#but maybe till is dense enough to only consider his own feelings on the matter and not her.........

[dapperrokyuu]

Recently reviewed the lyrics of Unknown (Till the End...) and I forgot how amusing it was that. Tills straight up calls Mizi a baby, isnt this your crush- Why are you insulting her, sjvkskcks-

#dee p thoughts #alien stage #alnst #vivinos #I actually considered changing the when I made translyrics I guess I wouldve made the line ''my baby'' because maybe till is presumptous or #that obsessed or convinced this will swoon mizi THAT BAD lol.but like theres such a difference in meaning between ''my'' and ''you'' in thi #maybe till was trying to uplift/cheer/incite mizi into living know her relationship with sua. somehow lol #Ive theorized and its pretty much confirmed that mizi was naive or bought into her indoctrination until the end of round 1 so theres #that to consider too. I dont think till is that mean tho thats just hitting mizi when shes just had her most traumatic moment adlbndaflkjjd #but maybe till is dense enough to only consider his own feelings on the matter and not her.........

[joel-millerr]

The Chase - One Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Rating: explicit

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You bet Mando you could last two hours on the run without him catching you. Reluctantly, he agrees to the bet.

Warnings: outdoor (rough & unprotected) sex, hunter and hunted type of vibe, mild choking, being gagged, size kink, mando talks a lot during sexy time, maybe slight dom/sub mentions?

A/N: this is just my take on the whole “bounty hunter and quarry” fantasy. also I basically wrote the smut and then added context around it. this is pretty much shameless smut  /// 

*Masterlist can be found here**

--

It started out as innocent banter.

“I definitely think I could last a couple days,” you told him, slouching in the passenger seat inside the cockpit.

The modulator scoffed at you. “No.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

He swiveled his chair around to face you. “That’s not it.”

“Then tell me what it is, Mando.”

Even though you weren’t able to see what his expression was, you could tell by his body language that he was getting annoyed. The way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way he leaned his body back in the chair—something he did every time you tried to rile him up about something. Despite the fact that he hid behind the beskar, he was generally easy to read whenever he was irritated.

“I bet I can last two days.”

“You wouldn’t last two hours, let alone two days.”

Now that was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from. Anytime someone told you that you couldn’t do something, it scratched that itch inside you to do that exact thing. Your incessant need to prove people wrong sometimes got the best of you, but Maker, the satisfaction you got from it was worth the consequences.

“I’ll take that bet,” you said to him, feeling your stomach stir.

“I wasn’t—”

“Too bad, Mando. You challenged me and I accept.”

--

And then the rest was history. All you had to do was last two hours without Mando tracking you down and then you could die happy knowing you evaded the best bounty hunter in the parsec, even if it were for a short period of time.

You’re not sure what planet Mando lands the Crest on but it’s definitely one of the quieter ones because he’s landed the ship in a large clearing with only woods as far as the eye can see. It’s not a problem for you, though. Growing up on Naboo meant you were always exposed to forests and clear landscape. In theory, this is the best place he could have chosen, not that you’d tell him that.

“There are some ground rules for this,” he begins to say, standing in the galley of the Crest.

“I’m all ears,” you answer back.

Mando lets out a chuff of air that crackles up through his vocoder, like he’s still considering calling this whole thing off, but after weeks of still not finding a Jedi for the kid, you both need a little distraction.

“First thing, no guns.”

“Okay, that’s understandable.”

“Secondly, you keep the commlink open at all times,” he orders.

“Not a problem,” lips curling into a smile, you already feel the adrenaline pump through your veins, body itching to get this whole bet started.

“Thirdly, if you somehow manage to last the day, we check in once it gets dark.”

“Ouch,” you take a step back, slightly offended at his jab. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I’m not the one overestimating my abilities,” he jests. Who knew Mando could be so snarky?

“Do we call it off at night and wait till dawn?”

“If you want to make to things easier.”

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play.

“All right, Mando. We don’t stop.”

“I don’t know how safe this planet it, but you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”

“Okay, yeah Mando, let’s do this,” you’re basically shaking from the thrill of all this. You can’t wait to show off your evading skills.

“I’ll give you an hour head start. Put as much distance between yourself and the Crest as you can.”

“Don’t worry, Mando. This isn’t my first time running away from someone,” you say with a smug smile.

“Fine,” his voice terse.

Your turn your back to him and face the open ramp. With your heart banging against your ribcage and your palms damp with sweat, this might be the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done.  

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon,” He says with a hint of mockery. He’s so confident in himself, it’s actually getting under your skin.  

Looking over your shoulder, you hit him with your own jab, “We’ll see about that,” and then you’re descending the ramp.

Once your feet hit the ground, you think of the best direction to head towards. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need to choose every single one of your movements very carefully because any slip up could end up hurting your chances to win.

You hear your named being called, so you turn around to look back at the Crest and see Mando standing at the top of the ramp.

“When I do find you, try to put up a fight.”

That sends heat right to the apex of your thighs. If you didn’t have enough incentive, that was the last nail in the coffin. You’ll make this as hard for Mando as you possibly can.

You shoot him one last devilish grin and disappear from sight, opting to go to your right. Once you reach the forest edge, you break off into a sprint, heading deeper and deeper into the foliage.

The forest isn’t too dense, but there are roots everywhere on the ground and you stumble on a couple of them, nearly falling flat on your face. The positive to having so many branches and roots in the ground means the chances of your footprints showing up in the mud are low but Mando’s got a heat tracker on his helmet, meaning he can still track your movements without actually seeing your prints.

The adrenaline keeps telling you to run, run as fast as you can, but the rational part of your brain realizes that no matter how much distance you put between you and Mando, it won’t matter unless you have a clear plan as to what tactics you’ll need to use in order to make sure he doesn’t find you.

Should you try to find the closest village?

Should you stay in the forest?

Think, think…

You continue to put some more distance between you two and when you feel as though you’ve made some progress, you check the clock on your commlink.

2:50PM.

In ten minutes, Mando will leave the Crest and begin tracking you. You’ll have to start making important decisions soon. When you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you tried to pinpoint a specific spot that might give you some kind of advantage. If your memory serves you correctly, you saw a small area that appeared to be some kind of canyon. Ideally, that might be the perfect spot to find some shelter. A hard surface means no footprints.

Now if you could only find out how far away you are from it…

As you take in your surroundings—which is basically just trees and more trees, you think about finding a high enough viewpoint for you to see where this possible haven could be. A few metres away you happen to see a tree that appears to be much larger than the rest of the ones around it. Its branches look sturdy enough for a human to climb and it doesn’t take you long before you’re heading straight for it. You haven’t climbed a tree in years but if there was a perfect moment to touch-up on your skills, it’s right now.

As you climb up the stump, the branches and leaves break apart, and the sky begins to get clearer and clearer. When you finally reach the very top, you’re so high up that you’re able to spot what you were looking for. It looks like it’s a couple more clicks away, but you were lucky enough to be already heading in that direction. The Maker must be on your side.

One more look at the clock.

3:01PM.

Shit, you have to start moving.

If you start to climb down the tree, you’ll end up losing precious time, allowing Mando to close some of the distance. It’s something you can’t risk. Eyes scanning the woodland between you and your hideout, you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to jump from tree to tree and pray you don’t fall and break any bones. It’s incredibly risky, and your inner self is warning you against it. If you do fall, you’re screwed, breaking a lot of the bones in your body. You’ll have to hope that these branches will be able to carry your weight.

Trying to balance yourself on one of tree’s larger arms, you crawl across it on your knees, knowing damn well if you stood up, you’d lose your balance and fall down, and it would be a pretty big fall. You’re easily fifteen feet off the ground, maybe more. Fuck, this might have been a horrible idea, but it’s frankly too late to turn back, you’ve made up your mind and you need to go through with it.

The jump from the branch you’re currently on to the adjacent one you’ll be jumping onto is about four feet, but it’s not the jump that concerns you. What concerns you is the sturdiness of that branch. Will the impact cause it to snap? Will it make too much noise, letting Mando hear it? All these questions are racing through your mind as you hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The longer you consider it, the more time you waste. You’ll just have to take the chance and hope everything works in your favor.

“Okay… I can do this,” you whisper, psyching yourself up.

As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs are buckling. You take one last look down, fully realizing that this idea is absolutely bonkers and jump.

When your body hits the branch, you latch your arms around it, landing on your stomach. To your surprise, the branch doesn’t break off, it barely even moves.

Success.

You continue to leap from branch to branch, until the rest of trees in your wake look too unstable for you to leap onto. Luckily, the tree you’re currently on isn’t too far from the ground, so you’re able to climb down it in under five minutes before reaching the ground. Keeping still for a moment, you wait to hear something.

A twig snap, leaves rustling, anything, but you don’t hear a single sound.

“Did you actually climb these trees?” You hear Mando’s voice through the commlink on your wrist, which startles you.

Is he already there? He’s already so close, how is he already so fucking close to you?

“Um, no?” You reply.

“That’s convincing,” he answers dryly.

If Mando’s already reached the tree you started climbing at, then he’s really not far behind. You’ll need to start sprinting again. Without trying to make noise, you begin to tiptoe around the forest, trying to be as quick and efficient as you can. It doesn’t take long until you see a break in the forest and somehow quicken your tread to the clearing.

Once you reach the wood's edge, you’re about to take a step into the clearing when you stop yourself.

Kriff, if you step into that open field, you’ll be sticking out like a sore thumb, which is a risk you cannot take. Instead, you’ll have to walk along the sides of the clearing, keeping to the trees and hoping you won’t be spotted.

“Are you really about to step into that glade?”

Your breathing hitches, everything inside you is burning up, adrenaline nearly making you shake uncontrollably.

He’s found you.

He sees you.

Keeping very still, you turn your head in every direction, desperately trying to see where Mando is but you can’t see a fucking thing. You consider making a break for it—which direction, though? Do you turn around and head back into the forest and hope that you’ll be able to lose him in the trees? Do you stick to your guns and continue to make for the mountains?

“Better make up your mind quickly, pretty girl. Time’s running out,” he’s fucking taunting you. Mando knows exactly where you are and is relishing in watching you struggle in deciding what to do next.

There’s something incredibly titillating knowing that he’s watching you, right now. Predator watching prey, observing your every move, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.

“What are the chances I outrun you?” You breathe into the speaker on your wrist, chest puffing in and out heavily.

Mando doesn’t answer right away, mulling over your question. “Very slim.”

“But not impossible?”

You’re sizing yourself up. You know damn well there isn’t a chance you lose him, not when he’s got eyes on you, but you have an advantage on him. Carrying all that armor on his body makes his movements more abrupt, meaning he’s less agile and relies more on his weapons to catch a bounty rather than his own speed. All you need to do is outrun him, make yourself impossible to catch and then maybe, just maybe, you can reach the other end of the forest without getting snatched.

“What are you planning?”

“’Put up a fight’,” you repeat the last words he said to you. “That’s what you said, right?”

“Yes?”

“Well… Come get me.”

And then you’re racing into the glade, your legs moving as fast as you possibly can. The air whipping passed the burning hot skin on your face, lungs feeling like they’re on fire, you’re running so much faster than you ever thought you could. Maker, you didn’t even know you could sprint this fast. Taking one quick look back over your shoulder, you see Mando break out from the forest edge, racing after you. He’s a couple metres behind you, but he seems to be closing the gap between you quicker than your efforts to gain distance.

Starting to panic, you make a sharp turn to the left, hoping he’ll be caught off guard, giving you just a few more seconds to stretch out the distance.

“I’ll give it to you, you’re much quicker than I thought,” he pants.

You’re so close to the forest, just a few more sprints. With your legs burning and getting tired, these last few metres are either going to make or break you, but with the determination to prove him wrong, you refuse to give up. You can almost taste freedom… just one more step—

And then you’re falling to the ground. Face slamming into the grass so hard, your vision goes fuzzy, and your head is pounding, hearing a faint ringing in your ears. When you turn over on your back, you look down at your legs and see your feet wrapped up in grappling line. Still in somewhat of a daze, you try to unravel the coil from your ankles with haste before Mando can close in on you. The tall grass shields your view, stopping you from seeing anything until it’s directly in your face, which mean he can be just a few feet away without you even knowing it. If you have any chance at slipping passed him, you need to move very fast.

Just as the cord untangles from your legs and you jump to your feet, you see Mando standing in front of you, just a little further than arm’s length away. Standing in place, you freeze up like a prey animal being spotted by its predator. Maker, he’s intimidating, carrying himself with such confidence and gusto that it could make even the more fearless predator cower in his presence and because you can’t see his expressions, you have no idea what he’s thinking under that bucket of his.

“Well, you managed to last two hours,” he notices after checking the time on his vambrace.

Relaxing your shoulders and readying yourself to break off into a sprint for the woods, you cock your head to side and chuckle. “Technically, you haven’t caught me yet.”

He tilts his head ever so slowly to the side, chest puffing out. With caution, he takes a step forward and in turn, you step back, maintaining the little distance between you two.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

“When have I ever made it easy for you?”

The visor’s locked on you. Both of you stand incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the first move.

“Don’t run,” he warns.

It’s impossible to ignore the stirring in your stomach. It’s time to face the facts, you’ve already been defeated. There’s not a chance in hell you can possibly win this. You fucked up, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t have started climbing trees, maybe you should have gone left instead of right. None of those things matter anymore. The only thing that matters how is what your next move is.

“Isn’t this what you really wanted?” His voice hitting low in the register.

Oh?

Does he mean what you think he means? Your pussy gushes, and you’re hit in the face with reality.

You would have to be a fool not to notice the way Mando looks at you on the Crest, and how you look at him. There’s clearly chemistry between you two, maybe even infatuation. It’s been three months since you started travelling with him which means there’s been three months’ worth of sexual tension. Both of you felt it, the electricity in the air whenever you were alone together. The air would get thick, your heartrate would quicken, and you’d wait for him to make a move, but he never did. Whenever you felt like that day was finally the day he���d let go of his devices and fuck you senseless on his ship, he’d retreat to the cockpit and lock himself up for hours, leaving you to take care of yourself in the fresher. It was enough to get the job done, but you wanted him, and you know he felt the same.

So, yeah, you’d be lying to yourself if that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. Getting him in his element, force him to come after you, and when you finally gave in or rather, when he found you, he’d be so caught up in the moment that all the sexual tension that had been building up for the last three months would climax at this very moment. What you couldn’t have anticipated was Mando figuring all of this out and actually calling you out on it.

Slacking your jaw, you lick your bottom lip, staring at the ‘T’ of his visor, realizing that this whole bet was just a façade—that the real reason you started this whole wager was to rile him up.

Mando body shifts, his fingers flexing at his sides.

“Been wanting it for three months, Mando,” you challenge.

He makes a guttural noise in his throat, and now you know you’ve got him. It’s taken three months to get you where you are now. Three months of walking around the Crest, swaying your hips purposely in hopes he’d look at you as you walked by. Three months of not so innocent touches on whatever part of him you could touch. Three months of soft moans and groans, trying to get his attention.

All your hard work is finally going to pay off.

Mando tries to close the gap between you, taking a step towards you. Being the brat you are, you step back.

“You’re really going to make this difficult?” He asks—very much a rhetorical question.

“Come get me, Mando,” the words slip off your tongue, once again trying to entice him.

A game of chicken.

Who’s going to make the first move? Is Mando going to charge for you? Do you let him? Do you turn and try to run away?

In a flash, Mando leaps forward and you’re just quick enough to dodge him, whipping your body towards the forest’s edge and taking large strides forward. You barely make it three feet before there’s more grappling line squeezing your ankles together. Once again, you land on your stomach with just barely enough time to cover your face with your hands.

Now, you know there’s no way you’d be able to get up in time and still somehow slip through his fingers, not that it was ever the point of this bet. You thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being on the run and having Mando chasing after you but you’re way more interested in what’ll happen next than actually winning.

It’s takes a few seconds for you to get your bearings, and as soon as you begin to push yourself upright, you’re being shoved back into the ground by Mando using his bodyweight against you. He straddles either side of your legs, pushing them together.

“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Mando’s voice suddenly whispers in your ear, pressing himself into your body. He bucks his hips against your ass, his erection nuzzled between your cheeks. Propping himself on his elbows so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight, one of his hands grab hold of your waist, digging into your flesh.

Trying to arch your back, you push your ass out to grind against his cock even more. Maker, you want him so fucking badly. Being fucked in an open field where anyone could see you, it’s daring and intoxicating.

Your hands fumble to your pants, trying to unbutton them and slide them down your thighs. Mando senses your urgency and swats your hands away and then his body leaves you momentarily, just long enough for him to tug your trousers down to your knees. It’s rushed, and you’re already panting underneath him, the anticipation eating you up from the inside.

A leather gloved hand grazes your lips, then he’s pushing two fingers in your mouth. The tastes of earth and salt lingering on your tongue.

“Bite,” he instructs.

You oblige and the glove comes off, discarded just inches away from your face. Without skipping a beat, his naked hand travels down your side, and with your ass in the air, he palms your stomach, keeping you in place and forcing you to arch your back even more. The pool of arousal in your stomach is making you squirm, getting more impatient as the seconds go by.

Mando takes his time trailing your lower belly, fingers barely grazing your skin. Your breathing is completely erratic, panting heavily into the ground. When he finally cups your sex, your breath hitches, a sharp inhale escapes your lips.

“Stars, you’re fucking soaked already,” he admires, and then two calloused fingertips are rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Writhing underneath him, you can barely keep still. The pleasure is overwhelming, something you’ve been waiting for for so long, you can’t believe this is really happening

Your hands grab at his waist with haste, trying to remove his pants but because you can’t see what you’re doing, you’re just aimlessly grabbing at him. He sees you struggling and lifts himself off of you. Hearing a small scuffle, he presses his body into your back again, and you feel his freed cock between your cheeks. Maker, he’s huge… is it possible for someone to feel this big when he hasn’t even stuck it in you yet?

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly, his own pants scratching low in his helmet.

“Y-y-yes, please,” you croak, your throat already bone dry.

Gathering as much of your slick on his hand as he can, you feel him smear it all over his length and with your ass still shoved up against him, he teases your entrance with his tip. Hands grabbing at his hips with urgency, he actually fucking chuckles and then starts burying himself inside you.

Stars, he’s fucking huge, it almost burns how much he’s stretching your walls. Your eyes wrench shut so hard; you’re seeing stars. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs, you can’t even make a sound as your jaw fucking drops. He buries himself deeper and deeper—kriff you’re not sure how much more you can take. Your body freezes once he’s fully inside you, teasing your cervix with his head.

“F-f-fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes out once he’s filled you to the hilt. Steadying himself on his palms, his cuirass leaves your back, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, giving you time to acclimate to his size. “I’ll try to be gentle—”

“No,” you say, cutting him off. “Please, j-just, fuck—do what you want,” you’re basically sobbing already, and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you.

He slowly pulls out and when you feel just the head still inside you, he slams into you so hard, you jerk forwards and cry out, your whole body stilling from being so full.

“You have to be quiet, someone might hear,” he tells you gently, pulling out again ever so slowly.

In an effort to stifle your moans, you bite down hard on your bottom lip, and when he bucks his hips and crashes into you again, you’re unable to stop the shriek that escapes you. Balancing himself on one arm, he grabs the discarded glove by your face and stuffs it into your mouth, gagging you with it and then begins really fucking you.

He drives his cock into you at a grueling speed, stopping his rhythm momentarily to roll his hips against your ass, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. Whatever pathetic noise tries to slip through your lips is muffled by leather and you’re grateful for it because your cries would echo through the field if not for the glove.

Mando drops his weight back on you, feeling his breastplate dig into your back. He lets his cock just sit there as his naked hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure with two fingers. He resumes his pace, jackhammering your pussy with so much force, his balls slapping against your skin echo through the clearing.

“Shit, this—this is what you wa-anted?” He hisses, never once relenting his rhythm.

You couldn’t have planned for how mind-blowing this is. The daydreams, the dreams while you slept, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Nothing in your imagination even comes close to the actual feeling of Mando fucking you senseless in the middle of an open area. You’re so close to your climax already, something no other person has even gotten close to doing. Mando knows how to fuck, how to reach the right spots inside you, how to drive you fucking insane.

“Yes, ah-shit, yes Mando, please, please, it feels so good,” you babble, your mind unable to come up with a coherent thought; instead, you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, they begin streaming down your face.

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he grits out between thrusts.

The grass is tickling your face, he pushes you deeper in the ground with every plunge, and then your orgasm rips through you, waves of white-hot pleasure crashing over you, electrifying your body from the inside out. Clawing at the ground and grabbing fistfuls of dirt, your body tenses and untenses at the same time, you can barely breathe. His hand is still pressing into your neck, making you dizzy from the limited air you can actually take in, as well as your climax punching out of you.

“Yes, fuck—ah shit—stars, you feel so fucking good.”

Mando doesn’t like to talk very much, only speaking when directly addressed, but now he’s a mess. He praises you, repeating words of admiration like it’s a prayer he tells himself at night and knowing you’re the reason for all this chatter just fills you up with pride.

He has incredible stamina, so he doesn’t need to pause in order to catch his breath very often. Mando continues to drill into you with such speed and force, you don’t know how much more you can take. It’s so much better than you thought it could be, you never could have predicted Mando to be so good at fucking you. He knows exactly how to treat your body, how to get the most pleasure out of you, it’s like he already knows you better than you know yourself. His cock rams that spot deep inside you that’s never been touched, nearly blinding you and causing your mind to go blank. You curse the Maker for making you wait this long. Both of you needed this, to take your frustrations and desires out on each other.

It’s primal, the way he thrusts inside you, feeling his cock pulse and twitch as your walls squeeze around him. Mando can barely shut up, if he’s not growling admirations in your ear, he’s keening into the helmet, his baritone hitting so low and rough, it only spurs you on.

The hand on your neck slacks, and then he’s pulling the glove out of your mouth. “Where d-do I—”

“Inside,” you manage to mewl, although your voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.”

“Ah—shit, you want me inside you? Fill your pretty little cunt with my come?”

You make a pathetic noise in your throat, the dryness of it too much for you to actually speak.

“Words, pretty girl. I need you to use your—fuck—words.”

You swallow hard, trying to get some dampness in your throat. “Y-yes.”

Mando growls contently and resumes his ruthless, hard pace. It’s no longer rushed, but with every thrust, he slams into your pussy so hard and hitting your cervix that your body jerks upwards, struggling to keep still. He grinds his hips a couple more times and then he reaches his own climax. You feel his cock throb inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“Fuck!” He snarls into the helmet, keeping it pressed against the side of your head.

You’re completely spent, you can barely move a muscle. Mando’s just fucked the life out of you, and you could lie here for the rest of your life, happy and satisfied. When you feel him start to pull out, with the little strength you gave—which is by no means a lot, you clench your walls around him, trying to keep him inside you.

“Don’t want me to leave?” He jokes.

“Want you inside all the time,” you mumble into the ground.

Mando hums, sheathing himself inside you once again.

“Pretty girl, I’m just getting started with you.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian smut #one-shot #pedrostories #fics

[ahkaraii]

tov drabble (1618 words)

“Good fight,” Don Whitehorse compliments. “Not good enough, though.”

Schwann knows when he’s lost. He resorts to a cool, helpless apathy in these moments: a trait characteristic to him since birth.

“Then kill me,” he says without inflection.

“You won’t beg for your life?” Don asks.

“I am already dead,” he says. “There is nothing to beg for.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Don then shrugs his massive shoulders, like saying, ‘what can you do?’. “Aw’right then. Hey! Boys! Give this kid a good Altoskian welcome, and escort him to a cell, will ya?”

Altoskian hospitality is not unlike the Empire’s, Schwann reflects. They knock him around, piss in his water bowl, and don’t give him any toilet paper to wipe his face or his ass during the whole damn stay. Then again, an assassination attempt against his Imperial Majesty would easily warrant a public beheading — here, it seems to equate with seven days of enforced meditation toe-deep in his own shit before being kicked to the curb like nothing ever happened.

“You’re letting me go?” Schwann asks, a faint tone of disbelief in his voice.

“You’re not the first to try to off the Boss, y’know,” the guard explains, “and you won’t be the last. It’s almost a right of passage at this point.”

Schwann must reevaluate the guild’s hierarchy. His intel was clearly missing some rather important information. “Did you also try to kill Don Whitehorse?” he asks, not even meaning it sarcastically.

“Sure,” the guard admits, like it’s nothing. “Though I tried to poison him, myself. Gave the Don a case of the runs and he put a bucket of it in my cell and that was enough to make me not try again.”

Schwann’s just spent a week stewing in his own filth and understands what a powerful motivator the stench of unceasing fecal matter and lack of hygiene can be to a man who once thought himself as dignified. “Huh,” is all he offers. Is that how Don Whitehorse inspires loyalty? By sparing his foes in such a contrived way?

“Now, I’d close my eyes if I were you. Ready? Splash!”

After Schwann’s been waterboarded into smelling a little less like a sewer, the guard escorts him out the door and onto the cobbled street some ways from the headquarter’s main entrance.

“That’s it?” Schwann repeats, still not quite believing it.

“That’s it,” the guard says. “Though if I were you, I’d get a proper wash and new duds. You fucking reek.”

A bed and shower at the inn requires gald he no longer has. And even the filthiest tavern won’t let him in wearing the shit-smelling rags he’s got tattered on by a thread. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and he’s really five seconds away from giving up and taking a nap right there in the street. Where even is he, anyway? Dahngrest is a fucking labyrinth with far too many dead ends.

“You need quick cash, son? I’ll pay you to suck my dick,” a strange man with a caved in nose offers in one such dead-end alley, idly smoking a pipe.

Schwann considers it for all of three seconds before he smoothly says, “I must decline,” and walks off in the opposite direction as fast as his tired calves will take him. It’s barely been a week and he will not fall to prostitution just to get a fucking bath. That guy probably had syphilis, anyway.

“Hey! New guy!”

Schwann would’ve started walking even faster if the pitch of the voice hadn’t distracted him — it belongs to a kid, prepubescently high, gender difficult to tell with the patchwork quilt of nonsense they’ve got on.

“Take this package to Saggitarus,” the kid says, and hurls something at him that Schwann catches out of reflex.

“What?” he asks, but the kid’s already disappeared. Fast little bugger—either that, or great at climbing walls. “What...?” he repeats, staring at the innocuous brown-paper-wrapped box in his hands. It’s about the weight of his pauldron, some two kilograms dense, and rattles like there’s something round inside it. A blastia, perhaps?

“Saggitarus,” he echoes. The tavern?

Is this a test?

Is the Don testing him?

For a moment, Schwann expands his senses, wondering if he’s being followed. He can immediately feel eyes on him, and detect the sounds of muffled laughter in the distance. Then again, that might just be paranoia. He has just spent seven days with no privacy and bored guards idly betting on when he’ll get thirsty enough to drink the piss-bucket. (Shamefully, he only got to two before he succumbed.)

If there’s a blastia in here, maybe he can sell it, or, hell, use it. If Schwann’s already presumed dead and his dignity gone with it, then maybe--

The thought crosses his mind and leaves it without much fanfare. There is a task he has been given, and he shall complete it. “Saggitarus,” he repeats, and twists his ankles in the direction of the last tavern he’d been to. Maybe he can ask for directions there.

“Saggitarus tavern? Heh...y'mean the Sagittarius Tavern? It’s that way, new guy,” says the bouncer stationed outside.

Hm. Does everyone know his task, then?

“Sagittarius, huh? It’s southeast,” another man offers, “follow the music.”

It’s starting to feel like a wild goose chase, and everyone’s in on it. There is no music but distant laughter.

“Naw, new guy, it’s north! Y’know, by the fountain? Surely you passed it already.”

On and on and on, each new direction being interrupted by some new person with eyes on his package and cruelty in their smiles. It’s clear they’re all in on it, and he’s the butt of the joke.

“You’re all fucking with me,” Schwann says monotonously. He’s really quite tired. Honestly, he doesn’t really need a weapon to kill things. If he goes outside the barrier, maybe he could just rip a couple of stray Filifolia monsters into lettuce for a salad and then sell the rest of it for gald enough to pay for hay to rest with the horses…

The thought tantalises him for three seconds before he focuses back to reality. Don Whitehorse has probably already forgotten him. His underlings are the cats playing with the new toy the Don has given them. He’s nothing but fresh meat quickly spoiling.

“You finally give up, new guy?”

It’s the kid who gave him the package. Schwann eyes them more carefully this time. Blond, grey-eyed, and oddly confident in their stance. For being such a pipsqueak, this kid has balls to poke an enemy of the Don while he’s down. Schwann’s dead tired and still quite capable of snapping the kid’s neck like he would a chicken.

“What happens if I say yes?” Schwann asks, lightly.

“I take the package back,” the kid says, and stretches out a small hand riddled with weapon-born calluses. “Hand it over, then.”

“Hm,” Schwann makes as if he’s thinking, and a part of him feels silly but delighted when the brat begins to look visibly impatient. Is this kid the one in charge of his punishment…? “I think not, then.”

“Ugh,” the kid says. “Then hurry up and make it!”

Schwann bows his head like he would to Princess Estellise. “Of course, young Master,” he says, and is rewarded by the kid looking proper startled. Bingo. “I’m afraid I am quite lost, though. Why don’t we both help each other and you get me there, for real this time? That way we can both finally take a break.”

The kid squints at him and then gives an explosive sigh and turns around and starts walking. Schwann follows them leisurely. They walk down faintly familiar streets and end up at the tavern right where Schwann started. The bouncer outside looks just as amused as he did the first time.

“Ah, I see now. Saggitarus is your name, isn’t it?” Schwann says, managing a sardonic smile.

“At your service,” the guy says, and stretches out his hand. “Did you ever find the Sagittarius tavern, then?”

“Your directions were one of a kind, but my sense of direction is quite another.” Schwann plops the brown box unceremoniously into the guy’s outstretched palm. “Here’s your package, Mister Saggitarus.”

“Here’s your payment, Mister New Guy,” Saggitarius says, and flicks him a single gald coin.

“Thanks,” Schwann says without a trace of sarcasm, and turns to the kid. “Y’know where a tired old man could get a bucket of clean water for a single gald?”

“Uh, try the fountain,” the kid says. “Duh.”

“Duh,” Schwann echoes, and can’t help but laugh a little. Duh, indeed. Children above, he’s so tired.

“Hey. New Guy. I’ll throw you enough for a meal if you give Pecan this package,” Saggitarus offers, clearly taking pity on him. “Pecan’s the third waiter on the right at the Sagittarius tavern. You know your way there now, right?”

Schwann’s everything aches, but he’s starting to get the hang of this place now, he thinks. “Sure,” he says. “Throw in an old tunic and I’ll deliver it as fast as these old legs can take me.”

“Do it without causing a ruckus and I’ll give you some new shoes, too,” Saggitarius says.

“You got yourself a deal,” Schwann says, and points his feet towards his goal. He can’t wait to feel a little cleaner and rest enough to regroup and decide his next course of action; if he doesn’t send an encoded message to Zaphias soon, Commandant Alexei’ll probably assume him dead or, worse, a traitor. Till then, it’s nice to have a mission with clear cut instructions.

“Third waiter from the right,” Schwann murmurs to himself, and sets off.

#karaii fic #tales of vesperia #spoilers #just trying to get a hand on writing ol' raven #i'm really fascinated by his first few months at altosk and how he gradually got everyone's trust despite like #yknow #trying to kill the don

[hintofcolor]

If I’m in pain you are gonna feel it (I never got to tell him I loved him and it’s your fault)

Tim yells at Clark because he’s sad and misses his best friend

It was quiet. Cassie and Tim stayed back, while everyone else went up to the house, sitting under the tree that gave shade to fresh turned dirt and concrete slab. The trunk of the tree wide enough that they could sit side by side and still lean back against it. 

“Conner Kent,” Cassie read aloud the name on the tombstone, “the fact that that’s the name they went with makes me want to break the ugly thing.” 

“Go for it,” Tim responded as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, willing the tears back in. He’s cried enough in front of people. “Maybe he’ll be offended enough that he comes back to tell you how rude it is to vandalize his grave.” 

Cassie chuckled, “If anyone would come back from the dead because of a hurt ego, it’d be Kon.” A small, soft smile settled on both of their faces.

They sat in comfortable silence just being in each other’s presence. They were the only two left. It hurt, but at least they had each other. It was nice, comforting, to just see the other. To watch each other’s chest rise and fall, to see their eyes flutter, tired and sad, glazed over with tears, but full of life. The sun turned a warm red and the sky lit up in vibrant colors. It was beautiful. It reminded Tim that Kon would never be able to keep the promise of showing Tim the sunsets in Hawaii

“You wouldn’t believe it man!” Kon beamed, “the sunsets and sunrises are unreal. It’s like they are fake. Like some one, I don’t know, painted them. I don’t know how to describe it.” Kon sat next to Tim on the water tower in smallville. Kon had flown up there, the whole ‘not being able to be himself’ thing weighing heavy. So they sat on the tower and Kon talked and Tim listened. When the sun started to set Tim smiled and made a remark about how beautiful it was and how he doesn’t see sunsets a lot because Gotham and pollution and such. Which in turn, made Kon start gushing about Hawaii. Tim turned to give Kon his full attention, while Kon sat with his arms resting on the barricade, his legs hanging over the edge, and his eyes glued to the sky. “You gotta see it I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“No I’m serious. I want you to see it for yourself. One day I’m going to take you to see a sunset in Hawaii. That’s a promise.”

 “I’ve got to head home.” Cassie’s voice breaking through the memories. “It’s been a long day, and it’s almost dark, I don’t want my mom to worry. Will you be okay? You can stay over at my place if you think your family will be to much.”

“Thanks Cass, but I’m okay.” Tim responded. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes settled in place. Like it belonged there. “I don’t think I’m through saying goodbye yet.”

Cassie simply smiled sympathetically. The look of his smile made her nauseous. She hurts too, so bad, but Tim has lost so many people already, she would give anything if she could just take his pain away. Seeing some one she loves in so much pain, knowing she can’t do anything about it, leaves her uneasy. As if she’s in pain for them. She wants to stay a little longer. Sit next to him, holding his hand, or resting her head on his shoulder, something to remind her that he’s still there, to remind him that she’s not going anywhere. She almost caved, sitting back down, staying with him till he was ready to go home. She even thought about going with him then too. Curling up in his too big bed, like how they all used to after a particularly difficult mission, leaving them feeling powerless and hopeless. All settled in one of their bedrooms, which ever was closest, just for the comfort of having other people around. They never talked, they just all silently got ready for bed and claimed a spot wherever was comfortable. However, she needed to get home to her mom, because as much as she loves Tim and wants to stick by his side, she really, really needs a hug from her mom right about now. To have her kiss Cassie’s head and tell her it’s okay, and that the pain just means that she cares.  

She flies off, refusing to go up to the old house. To many memories of the four of them are stored in that rickety barn and yellow home. She doesn’t want them tainted by grief. 

Tim watches her go. He leans his head back against the tree again. He was about to close his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. He stood, perfectly ready to give whoever it was some privacy with Kon. Until Clark comes into view. An anger Tim didn’t even know he was harboring for the Kryptonian came bubbling to surface. Fast and Hot.  He pushed against the tree to stand up right and tall. 

“Are you proud yet?” He asked, venom dripping from every word. Clark turned to look at the boy briefly. Tim could see the guilt hanging heavy in his eyes. “He saved the world. Died a hero. That enough to convince you that he isn’t Lex? That he could be more than his DNA?” 

“Tim-” 

“No. I talk, you listen.” Tim spit. Clark recoiled, but stayed quiet. “You did nothing but push him away for absolutely no valid reason. What makes you think you have a right to stand here and grieve? When you were the one who made his life hell. For years, years Clark, I had to sit and listen as he doubted himself, doubted who he was, whether or not he was good, whether he was his own person. I watched him drive himself insane over his stupid DNA. Because of you, Clark! Because you couldn’t for three seconds consider that maybe, just maybe Kon is his own person. He had a mind, a beating heart, a soul, Clark, and you reduced him to a science experiment. You don’t get to stand here and act like this isn’t exactly what you wanted. Not when that stupid shield drug him down more than you could ever imagine” 

“I tried-” 

“YOU TRIED!? God Clark you can’t be this dense. The Kon you knew wasn’t even Kon! GOD! He changed everything about himself so that maybe, just maybe you would accept him! He died being a person he didn’t even recognize in the mirror. The clothes, that stupid t shirt and jeans, the hair cut, the glasses, his obviously dialed down personality. I can’t count how many times I listened to the same thing over and over, about how much he hated everything he had become, how didn’t feel like himself, how it was driving him insane. And every time I would tell him that there was nothing wrong with who he used to be and every time, every single time, he would respond with ‘Clark would disagree.’ All you did was change him into another version of you. Your opinion meant so much to him and you hardly even spared him a second thought. You wanna know how I know you didn’t try, because if you spent even five minutes talking to Kon like he was more than a clone bred to fight, you would know how much he hated Smallville. LOOK WHERE WE ARE STANDING! He couldn’t wait to get out of this place, and because you didn’t want to go through the, what, hassle? Of coming up with a story as to why he would be buried in someplace he liked. Buried in Hawaii? He is the in the one place that him feel even less of a person forever. God, Clark do you know how pathetic that is? How so royally fucked up that is? Do you know how angry he would be if he knew he had to spend eternity here? And yet you have the audacity to stand here and actually mourn him?.”

“I-” 

“I’m not done talking. You don’t get to mourn some one you wished wasn’t alive in the first place. We both know the only reason it hurts you so much is because this perfectly crafted ‘knight on a white horse’ person you created just took a hit. God, I wish in everything that some one would knock you off of that damn high horse. I am so sorry your hero complex took a hit. I am so sorry that you have to be the villain for once. That you couldn’t save Kon, whether it was from prime or himself. I am so sorry that you worked so hard to make Kon into Clark 2.0 only to have him die. I am so, so sorry that you regret not getting to know him. But that’s on you and only you. And that guilt you’re feeling, the guilt of not being fast enough. Of not getting there in time. Of letting some one die. Of some one dying thinking that you hate them. I get it. Trust me, I get it. A hundred scenarios running through your mind about how it could have been different, how you could have saved him. How you could have done better. How you should have kept them closer. When you are laying there at night, your stomach curled in on itself, your blood ice cold. The hot tears pouring down your face as some cruel reminder that you can’t escape from this. The type of guilt that has you hunched over the toilet, choking on your vomit because you can’t stop sobbing long enough and you’re body won’t let you do both. You don’t panic, you think if I go I deserve it right? You put on the cape and become sloppy and reckless because if you make it out, if you are able to go home and take them off, the pain will set back in. That guilt that is all encompassing, that drags with you all day and all night. Cause no matter what, you can’t wake up. That guilt? I can tell you with a doubt is the worse feeling you will ever feel. And I truly mean it when I say that I hope you choke on it. I hope you scream for help and no one listens. I want you to know what it feels like to be in so much pain while surrounded by people who make a living helping people. I hope people you consider family ignore your suffering. I hope that pain seeps into your skin. I hope the sound of Kon hitting the ground rings in your ears. I hope the sound of his heart stopping replays on repeat.” Tim’s voice breaks, tears are flooding down his face he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t care. He is so angry that nothing else matters. His voice drops to barely a whisper “I wish Kon were here. I wish he could tell you this himself. I wish he could tell you himself how much it hurt to know that you would never love him.”

Tim walked off, up the dirt road that lead to Kent’s long driveway. He paused at the old worn mailbox, before deciding to just keep going. He trekked down the long dirt road, with no clue where he was going. He knew Bruce would come looking eventually. He found himself lying on the cold metal walkway of the old water tower. He just stared up at the stars, like he was waiting for Kon to appear out of  the sky. He closed his eyes, tears still streaming down steadily and whispered the same thing over and over again. Maybe if he said it enough Kon would hear it. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

#dc comics #conner kent #(also cassie punches him but at a different time) #tim drake #clark kent is a bad dad #he gets better tho #i just like the angst sometimes #cassie sandsmark #if cassie was still there clark would have been doomed #poor timmy #i hated this #so i had to fix it #so here is a edited version #still not quite what i want #but its defiantly better #i also didnt tag this timkon #i dont know why #so #timkon

[ererokii]

class 1-A waking up to find denki and his (gn) s/o in the living Area (they straddling him/sitting on his lap) (maybe w even them walking in on the makeingout?) and is just like U have a lOvE lifE?! and him getting possessive and jealous. (#1)

I absolutely love this idea and I hope I did it well! (Unedited)

Saturdays were far by your favorite. No school. No hero training and not being yelled at by your teacher for not trying enough. You were able to sleep in or wake up early with your boyfriend, Denki Kaminari and relish the peaceful moment you had with him.

The both of you were snuggled upon in the common room, both on the couch as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around you. His head and rested on top of yours.

These were the moments you cherished the most. No one was here to disturb both of you considering you woke up early rather than sleeping in which at the moment sounded so good. But being here with him in this position could put you to sleep in a matter of seconds.

“You know” you broke the silence as you shifted in his arms, fully facing him as your legs were draped on both sides of his legs, placing your hands on his chest. “You’re really quiet for someone who is normally loud”

“Oh is that bad?” He pouted with no feeling of hurt as he pinched your hip, emitting a squeak from your lips. “I can get loud and wake everyone else up if that’s what you want!”

You let out a laugh and shook your head. “No! Then the others will come and bother us! And then waking up early would have been for nothing Denki!”

Denki loved his classmates. He really did. He felt supported by them no matter what. But the both of you were still dating in secret. The downside of it was that everyone was close. Maybe a bit too close to his liking.

The worst of them were his groups of friends that he loved to call themselves as the Bakusquad. Those four or rather three minus Bakugo’s lack of friendship as Mina said, were always attached at the hip.

“Yeah I know” he muttered and leaned forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck, nipping the skin lightly.

You let out a small mewl as he pulled his head away, placing his hand on the nape of your neck as he pushed your head forward to have your lips meet him in the middle, your lips moving in sync.

Kissing Denki was an amazing feeling you never wanted to forget. His lips were soft, considering he was always applying chapstick. Before you got together, chapstick was something that Denki thought was useless. Now that you guys are together it seemed that he owned endless amounts.

You pulled away, your cheeks heated up as you leaned your forehead on his as his hands found their way onto your hips, digging his fingers into the skin as he brought you closer.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered breathlessly, his hot breath fanning on your face.

“Mm do you know?” You teased and kissed the tip of his nose, watching him scrunch it. “Course I do silly” was his reply before capturing your lips with his once more.

His hands wandered underneath your shirt as he gently rubbed your sides with the pads of his fingers, your body shivering from his touch.

His tongue slipped between your mouth as it explored the foreign area, a slight moan slipping through your mouth as your grip around his neck tightens.

He grunted as he moved you impossibly closer. A gasp from the background suddenly made you guys pull away from your locked lips.

There stood Iida and Midoryia, both watching the both of you with eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“Kaminari and Y/LN! This behavior should not be allowed on school grounds let alone the dorms! Have you no shame?! I simply do not allow this!” Iida yelled as he started waving his arm dramatically to get his point through.

“What’s with all the yelling?”

Oh no.

The rest of class 1-A proceeded into the room. “Wait no way!!” Sero yelled and pointed at the both of you, his eyes welling up with tears as he began to laugh. “No way you have a love life?! I can’t believe this!!”

“That’s so manly dude!! Congrats!” Kirishima cheered as he sent a thumbs up your way.

“Oh my god” you whispered in embarrassment as you quickly covered your face with your hands.

“You guys didn’t know?” Mina chimes in with a yawn as she checks her fingernails. “Thought it was super obvious. Maybe you males are just too dense.”

“What did you say raccoon eyes?! I dare you to say that shit again!”

“That makes sense then” Midoryia mumbled and he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. “That must explain why the both of them always leave around the same time when we watch movies..why the two of them always pair up during sparring and are always seen together at all times..”

“Yeah and so what?!” Denki yelled as he smashed your face against his chest, holding you there to shield you away from their eyes. “Yeah we are together and you guys are just jealous that we are!!”

Everyone seemed to silently communicate as Sero covered his mouth, holding back a snicker.

“Kaminari..how dare you?!” Mineta yelled as he grabbed a ball off his head, throwing it at the wall. “We made a pact that we wouldn’t date at all till I found a hot babe of a girlfriend and you just.. you did this behind my back?! You asshole!”

“Yeah well that sucks for you!” Denki yelled as he kissed the top of your head. “They’re all mine and no one else can have them!”

“Please stop yelling Mr.Aizawa will yell at us for being too loud in the morning! Everyone calm down!” Iida spoke up.

The rest of the class broke out into shouts and screams. You looked up at Denki who had a scowl on his face.

“What’s with the look?”

“Now that everyone knows we’re together they’re gonna want you! And I don’t like that!”

You let out a giggle as he looked down at you in shock. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Oh babe you’re so funny. I only love you and you only you!”

“..you promise?”

“Yes Denki I promise.”

#kaminari denki #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #xreader #xreader insert #reqeust #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[wornoutmouse]

Illumi x Poc Reader

I wrote this cause I don't see any Poc readers with hxh like I do mha😫 Also not sure if I'll make this into a story what do you think?

You weren't the strongest nen user in the world, hell you weren't even in the top 50. So if someone were to ask you why you were currently having dinner with the most feared family in Padokea you would have no choice but to just shrug your shoulders. You glanced around quietly eating your meal as your posture became stiff as a board the longer the silence became. You were not naive to the fact that there were many eyes on you both literally and figuratively.

Sitting across from you was a rather large man with long white hair calmly eating his food. He was almost a mirror image of the older man to his left. Although shorter in stature you could practically taste the power radiating from him.

'This must be Illumi's grandfather' you thought

Next to the old man was a large boy with shiny black hair similar to Illumi's noisily chewing while focusing with a mobile game in his right hand. Someone you deducted to be his sister sat next to him in a black and pink kimono quite similar to the one your were forced to wear before arriving, she ate her food quietly. Finally turning towards the lady of the house who's hard gaze you could feel on your face ever since you arrived.

Clearing your throat you opted for small talk trying to lessen the tension. "Who made dinner, it's delicious." The woman clapped her hands together in a gleeful manor, "Do you really think so? The new butler prepared it but I found it a bit dry so they were promptly fired!" She replied voice getting hard at the word fired. It was not hard to understand that fired was Zoldyck for killed. You stared down incredulously at the rice and beef on the table that was practically oozing in tenderness and moisture. "Oh really?" You respond lightly trying to keep a blank face as the woman snapped her silver spoon in half bellowing a obnoxious, 'Oh dear!'

You swallowed shallowly as you watched a servant immediately present her a new fork. You came to a decided conclusion that this woman was off her rocker. You opened your mouth to speak again before a quick sharp pain spread up your leg piercing through all the layers of your kimono. Tensed you pluck some beef into your mouth at the same time you plucked the object out of your flesh. Based on the thin length leading to a round end you shuddered glacing at Illumi who was now missing one of his needless from his vest. This was obviously a warning to stay quiet.

After the meal Illumi ushered you down the hall and up many stairs before shoving you into a dark room causing you to trip and almost fall. You huff angrily turning to your captor, "What is this about Illumi?" You ask flicking his needle towards his face marveling at how easily he caught it gently between his long slender fingers returning it to his place above his heart. "It was only to get you to stop speaking. It wouldn't have been long before my mother threw a fit and that would be rather annoying." He replied nonchalantly his dark eyes staring into yours before promptly turning and walking towards a linen closet.

You combed your hand through your disheveled afro that you were unable to fix after Illumi had made you open his heavy ass 'front door' you personally called bullshit on that one. But had no choice since you were immediately threatened if you refused.

"If you are unable to open at least one of the doors then you are not worth my time and will be disposed of."

Plopping down on the plush bed you gasp as you sank down a few inches grasping at the silk sheets. "What could I have possibly done to upset your mama? I opened 2 of your stupid doors and I put on this kimono just like you asked!" You asked exasperated as you tugged on the kimono that had clung to your round figure no matter how much you loosened the sash. Illumi closed the closet turning with two stacks of purple linen in his hands perfectly folded. "That is true. Infact she was estatic at your efforts at first. But that all changed of course when I told her that I was open to marrying you."

Your heart sunk into your stomach like your body in the bed at those words. You shuttered at the thought of marrying this deranged man and bearing his fish eyed offspring. His monotone voice and blank face only fueled your reasoning as he spoke about marriage as though he was shopping for bread. "What the hell do you mean marriage!?" The only reaction you received was a show blink, "You managed to intrigue me, anyone capable of that needs to be monitored closely and what better way to do that than marriage?" You roll your eyes and gestured universally, "How about, I don't know, literally ANYTHING! Be roommates you know, like normal people!" Illumi looked almost as though he was pondering on the idea before shaking his head

"No, besides it's about time I've settled down don't you think." You dead panned absolutely positive that your ideas of settling down where vastly different. "I'm sure your mother does not approve of you marrying someone you just met." Illumi's mouth twitched up hinting at a smirk, "No, things like that are common around here, her problem is about how weak you are." He paused for a moment waking towards making you mean away as he sets his long arms on either side of you, caging you between the bed and himself examining your features before continuing, "And she's not too keen on mixing different backgrounds into our pure Japanese heritage." Your blink slowly trying to calm your heart beat at the proximity before scoffing looking towards the window to your left so you wouldn't cry in fear, "Offend me why don't you?"

He leaned away plopping one of the purple stacks into your lap, "Let's go shower." He says heading to the bathroom stopping when he realized you weren't following. "Well, come along." You looked at him like he'd lost his damn mind, which he had apparently. "You got me messed up if you think I'm getting in the shower with you Playboy continue your journey and leave me alone." You say rolling into your side facing away from him in order for you not to go back on your choice in fear only to relax at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing.

FLASHBACK

You gasped in exhaustion as you ran as far as your legs would take you. Flying through the dense forest trying to keep a close ear on the sounds of twigs snapping at your right. 'I'm totally fucked' you thought as the sound easily caught up to you.

You didn't understand how you got into this situation. You were simply visiting your uncle at his new estate. You knew he got his wealth in greasy ways but not enough to put a hit on himself.

You propel yourself off of a branch trying to get higher into the trees. You wondered if your uncle was still alive. He was a more advanced nen user so if he doesn't survive you surely won't. You pushed yourself harder through the trees thinking back to seconds before the ambush.

Your uncle was giving you a saphire necklace that he had aquired through questionable means. The only thing that gave away something was wrong was the fact that the estate was completely silent with no sound of his rowdy partners celebrating through booze and marijuana. At that realization, he ushered you though the bedroom window just as his room door slammed open. All you saw before you jumped was long ebony hair and dull black eyes. You landed on the ground in a awkward way, spraining your ankle but wasted no time pushing through the pain; breifly recalling what your mother said when she sent you here.

"You just learned nen basics so you're not adept to protecting yourself. Your uncle Ricky messes around with dirty folk so if he tells you to run then run baby and don't look back."

So here you were, flying through the air just 2 months after your first nen training, putting everything you knew to the test. After long last, you burst through the trees finally able to see your surroundings illuminated with the moonlight.

You began bounding across the tops before something sharp stabbed through your sprained tendon, causing you to fall far and hard back into the forest.

You groaned, sitting up and blinking rapidly, you try to adjust your eyes to the change in scenery. Standing up shakily, you take a step forward before you feel a large weight land on your back, pushing you face down into dirt and dried leaves.

"There is no use resisting child. Stay still and I will consider making your death quick~" Came a silky voice above you. "Such wasted potential~" Before you could respond, everything went black signalling that your clone had met it's demise. You blinked yourself bringing your consiousness back into your real body. "Wow that nen trick really did work, maybe that old lady wasn't crazy." You mutter wincing at the ghost of pain you felt drumming through your ankle. Once you casted your nen on a pile of twigs, you quickly ran in the opposite direction. Only watching from it's own eyes so the movements would seem fluid.

"I should hurry it won't be long till they realise they were tricked."

You quickly ran into a small tourist town and headed to the nearest bar so you could ease your pain. Sliding onto the stool you wave over the bar keep. "A shot of vodka for the road!" You call out, already grimacing at the taste you'd have to force yourself through. The bartender looked at you and smirked before sliding you a root beer float.

You stared at the ice cream floating in your glass before looking at him like he was crazy. "Sorry sweety but your babysitter said to give you something light."

He gestures behind you, and you turn to look choking sightly as breath catches in your throat.

Right behind you were familiar dull black eyes pearing down at you. This man was tall, at least 6 feet plus with pale white skin, and long hair. He was dressed like a Christmas tree with gold bulbs adorning his green top. "Can I help you?" You ask trying to feign innocence. The man stiffly sat down in the stool next to you ignoring you for the time being. "Barkeep please give me what you gave her." He said point to your float. Once he received his, he looked at it for a while as the ice cream sunk into the root beer. The silence was terrifying but you found yourself getting lost in his sharp features and his calculating hands as they wrapped around the tall glass.

"How did you do your little trick?" He asked pulling you out of your trance. You blink slowly, "What trick?" You ask tensing as his head turns towards you looking into your eyes almost daring you to lie

"I told my colleague to rid the area of any strays in the area. He informed me that he was persueing the 'cute Cocoa girl with the curly hair." He faced his drink swiping the dripping cream and slowly licking it off his finger never breaking eye contact. "So you can imagine my surprise when I find my self persueing the same girl. So I want to know how you did it."

You fold your arms and began drinking your float indignant to the situation. "Sorry, family secret, I can't tell you." You suddenly feel something thin yet sharp pressing into yout neck as a sultry voice chuckled from behind you. "How sneaky of you my dear, tricking me into following a ploy."

The ebony haired man watched your face looking for a reaction and you looked back the best you could without provoking your neck being slit. With a sigh the man drunk some of his float licking the ice cream from his lips, "Stand down Hisoka, we don't want a repeat of last time." And you could only imagine what that meant. There was a chuckle, "Oh Illumi my dear your no fun~" the mystery person replied. But the force was removed from your neck.

#illumi #hxh #illumi zoldyck #x reader #poc reader #hisoka

[heliosthegriffin]

Establishing Dominance

“Fearless Leader! I challenge you over leadership of team JNPR, accept or forever be a nerd!” Nora shouts at Jaune from on top of the lunch table, standing on his lunch, absolutely ruining Jaune’s nuggies.

Murmurs overtook the cafeteria at her proclamation, it was bold challenge indeed and one if ignored would permanently label Jaune as a nerd. Many people looked at Jaune as if he would bolt from the cafeteria in fear or as if he would crack immediately and surrender the title of leader to Nora so that he may not face her wrath, not that many would blame him, Nora hits hard. But to their surprise, Jaune merely smirked at her challenge, a new wave of murmurs rippling outward.

Jaune had been anticipating it for weeks that Nora would challenge him for leadership of team JNPR, so he wasn’t surprised she had finally did so. He wasn’t surprised she wanted to be Leader, it could be pretty fun at times and he saw how much she wanted to be Queen of the team , he was also pretty sure she wanted that crown he made of twigs, twine and, duct tape he wore in his spare time.

“Very well Nora, consider your challenge accepted.” Jaune said with a warm, smooth confidence.

Nora rocked back as if struck, not expecting this level of nonchalance from her friend and leader. Sure, she knew he would accept her challenge, he had far too much pride not too. But, for him to smile and welcome it? It threw her off guard.

A beaming smile came easily though, this just made it all more exciting.

“Very well, soon to be Fearful of me Leader, I will await in the Emerald forest for you, be there or be square!”

“Count on, it Nora.” Between the eyes of the blond and the ginger, one could swear they saw lightning hopping between them.

Ren signed tiredly, and Pyrrha looked torn between blushing at Jaune’s sudden confidence, and smiling warmly at Nora’s antics.

Yang was watching intently on the two, Ruby looked anxious, Weiss looked on wondering how her life became so insane, and Blake was already writing in her notebook.

The challenge was a serious matter, one he wasn’t letting it go without a fight, he worked really hard on the Crown of Juniper and he’d be damned if some upstart took it from him! ... And, he was the only one with leadership skills out of the four of them, he guessed. There was also the matter of Nora getting bored by afternoon and hand the reigns back over to him, but that would still be most of a day with Nora in charge of team JNPR, and while he may love that insane girl he did not want to clean up the mess after letting her lead.

What did surprise him was the fact she had waited long enough for him to find his semblance before challenging him, that was kind of her. Too, bad he was all out of mercy today. The Crown was his and his alone!

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

Jaune and Nora stared at each other, standing twenty feet apart from each other in a dirt circle thirty feet in diameter. Surrounding them was a crowd of people who turned out to watch them.

Jaune stood tall and proudly with his hair moving in the faint breeze, with the way the sun hit his face he could have been confused for a warrior-prince of old. Though, it was to be noted, only thing covering his body was a baby blue robe.

Nora faced Jaune with her arms crossed somehow managing to look down on him despite nearly being a foot and half shorter. Her turquoise eyes glittering with mischief like a the old Trickster spirits of old. Interestingly enough, she too only wore a robe, hers a pretty cherry blossom pink.

Goodwitch, and Winter Schnee, stood facing the two juggernauts of personality that were her students.

“Strip!” The two yelled out unison.

With that the robes dropped, and the crowd went wild, as nothing could obscure their sight of the Nora and Jaunes naked bodies any longer.

Pyrrha, Velvet, Coco, Ruby, and so many others turned red in the face screaming in ecstasy. The level of excitement in the crowd could not be measured by mere words.

Ren was taking a nap in the dorm, Weiss was sleeping with him; White Lotus for life, Bitches!

Goodwitch and Winter then held up their hands silencing the crowd, and said together, “FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME!” Holding up a bottle of baby oil.

Goodwitch approached Jaune with a maniac look in her eyes and Winter Schnee did the same to Nora. Using their semblances they covered each and every inch of the two’s superhuman physiques! Making them glisten and glow in the sunlight, highlighting their beauty to a godly extent!

Many in the crowd could no longer take it and fainted on the spot, in fact so vast was the spell put on them, even those in Mistral, Atlas, and Vacuo trembled in ecstasy knowing something freaking hot was happening. Half the crowd then fainted, Pyrrha and Ruby were just one of the many casualties.

Winter and Glynda scurried quickly out of the arena to join the screaming masses as the Jaune and Nora began stretching, knowing their job done.

Nora rolled her shoulders, hopping in place. “Last chance to back out, Jaune. I won’t think any less of you.”

Jaune arched his back, his hands on his hips, stretching till he heard a gratifying pop. “Oh? Is that mercy from the queen, I hear? How rare. I’m afraid I have to refuse,” Jaunes eyes narrowed a Nora’s own. “A king never backs down.”

Nora’s smile could cut a man down. “Oh well, I tried.” And then she crushed two apple sized lightning dust crystals in her hands, lightning dancing across her body, eyes and hair which shot up like a middle finger to gravity, and she shivered in masochistic pleasure. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.” She cracks her neck. “When I win, I’m snorting that shit off your dick!”

Jaune stomps a foot down, a shock-wave sending dust flying away from him, as he squared up, his aura flaring as he amped up it up. “Don’t threaten me with a good time Nora, you’ll just make me fight harder~”

“Hehehe,” Then with a crack of thunder, the ground where Nora once stood crumpled, a series of foot prints broke the ground in a straight towards Jaune before Nora blurred into sight before Jaune throwing a right jab at his jaw!

Jaune however felt more than saw her, as his aura dangled a spider thin thread of awareness of where Nora was coming. Tilting his head to the side avoiding the jab, and then bringing up his left arm to block her left cross.

He put up his guard as she had him on the defensive, as Nora sent a avalanche of jabs to prod his defense. He felt her tiny, dense hands hit his aura clad arms like a automatic shotgun! Each blow sending him inching ever so slightly back.

But, his defense held, no matter the number of punches she could send, she couldn’t break his defense yet! So he waits and watched for her to over extend.

Nora felt a flash of danger in her aura sense, and jumped back over ten feet just as Jaune nearly grabbed her wrist, a move that would have left her at the mercy of his superior reach.

Jaune saw his chance and rushed Nora, sending his own valley of jabs, but keeping the superior range of his arms in account to send punches that put him a much lower risk than she was by staying out of her reach.

Nora chose to block the first set of jabs, and instantly regretted it, as Jaune may have been much slower than Nora sending out maybe one punch per five of her own, his superior range, mass, and aura amplification let him hit almost five times harder than her! Each of his hands glowing with primordial light, each hit releasing a shock wave of sheer force, each punch feeling like a artillery shell from an Atlas Warship, and they only grew harder to endure as she could feel Jaune’s aura amping higher and higher.

Nora made a tactical decison to keep herself in the fight, and let one punch hit her downward into the chest, just as she leaned back and jumped! She was launched across the arena, but that’s what she wanted, to get space.

She wiped out across the dirt, but soon regained control, and clawed her hands into the dirt and pulled herself into a crouch. She focused her electric power and her semblance, shifting her allocation of power from strength to speed, stamina, and reflexes. She just couldn’t hit hard enough to fight Jaune on equal ground without Magnihild, but weapons weren’t allowed in Leadership Challenges, but she could definitely out speed him and possibly, out last him, and if nothing else leverage her superior fighting experience to win.

Jaune felt more than saw her change in stance, as a gust of wind hit him and with it what felt like a thousand hits to his solar plexus. A gasp was forced out him, as his amped up danger sense could no longer keep track of Nora. He re-speced near instantly and put his perception into defense, he couldn’t keep track of Nora and defend against at the same time. He crouched and guarded letting her hit like a lightning.

But, so what if she was lightning? He’d be the earth that grounded her!

He could feel her chipping away at his aura, even as he amped its regeneration. He smiled with pride, but knew he couldn’t play defensive forever. She’d wear him down.

Nora hit him with everything she had, making sure to hit consecutively in the same spot so he’d really feel it. But, it didn’t feel like she was making a real dent in his reserves. Then she saw it, a slight tremble in his left calf.

She lunged forward and kick his tree trunk of leg a dozen-dozen times, then it went flying like she wanted. Jaune’s body leaving the earth, she smirked, didn’t matter how good your defense was, if you’re in the air you’re at gravity's mercy, and gravity is a bitch.

Nora got behind him and put her power into strength again and let him have it. Throwing him up sky high, Jaune disappearing like a twinkling star. That wasn’t the end of it thought, and Nora shattered the ground following him up.

Jaune never knew the Emerald forest was so pretty from a couple thousand feet up, but you learn something knew everyday. But, what he did know is that Nora would follow up that assault with something gruesome. So he re-amped his awareness, by twice, by tens times, by hundreds times, by a thousand! Then he felt it that the spider thread awareness widening into an almost prescience level of knowledge as he knew not saw where Nora was coming from.

He could laugh, that it was her throwing him up here that gave him the chance to actually track her. He followed the threads of awareness, and looked above as Nora tried to hit him with a spinning double axe kick to his head.

He caught her by the feet the moment gravity renewed her hold on the two, he gave her a wink, and as they fell he spun her by the feet faster and faster till he let her go, sending her down with a air shattering shock wave.

Nora hit the ground like a ginger meteor and she crumpled prone the last vestiges of semblance going out, her hair falling down, and a shock wave knocking over unfortunate watchers.

They wouldn’t get a chance to get back up soon, as Jaune landed on Nora with a shockwave as Jaune mounted her stomach, a hand cocked back.

“Still want to fight to be leader?” Jaune asked smiling, a glowing hand cocked.

“Nope!” Nora said cheerfully. “Maybe later~, but, that was the most fun I’ve had since I got here!”

“That’s great Nora!” Jaune said getting up. “Now is there anybody else that wants to fight me for leadership of team JNPR?”

“Yeah, I do!” Yang yelled out, striping out of her clothes, showing off two double DD’s.

“Me too!” Coco said stripping in tandem.

“Oh, whys that?” Jaune asks.

“Well you can’t strip naked, and fight, then leave! We came here to watch y’all fuck! Now you’re going to leave us blue balled! Oh, hell no!” Yang says, while Coco nods.

“Then come get some!” Jaune said still naked and glistening!

AN: I had fun writing this. The original idea was Jaune and Nora getting oiled up and a wrestling, but it somehow turned into this.

#Jaune Arc Crack #Nora Valkyrie.

[diavolodigitale]

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.3 Havarl

Oof, the chapters are getting longer as it always happens with me. This one, I think, is significantly better than the previous ones if we don’t consider the lame beginning ahahah

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, some philosophy? I really don’t know what to call that.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Vetra, Jaal

Rating: PG

Size: around 9 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

       The weather on Havarl was as foggy and gloomy as always. High humidity made it hot and stuffy, so at times Ryder found it hard to breathe, wearing his full set of armor and carrying around all the weapons. The squelching of wet leaves and grass could be heard behind him as his companions made their way forward.

       “I heard that Evrfa is now on Havarl as well,” mentioned Jaal, stepping over a peculiar looking mushroom.

       “I thought he never leaves his sanctuary. Hard to imagine him doing something else besides work,” commented Vetra and proceeded adjusted her rifle so that it didn’t impede her movements.

       Ryder coughed a few times. They were already a few steps away from the research facilities.

       “The Resistance operates on many planets. We need to control the Roekaar activity here, so regular investigations on Havarl are no exceptions,” said Jaal.

       Vetra sighed.

       “Isn’t it crazy how the Resistance grew?” she began somewhat excitedly. “I’ve heard rumors that it used to be just a bunch of small groups of angara fighting off kett. And now you have a complex and highly flexible organization controlling most of the galaxy!”

       “Indeed,” agreed Jaal. “What Evfra did to bring them all together is unimaginable. Even if his approach and methods aren’t unanimously accepted between the angara, his achievements are irrefutable.” Jaal stopped and took a long look at the cloudy dark sky.

       “You seem so fascinated by him and his work,” noted Ryder, giving Jaal a light pat on the back.

       “I respect him, yes. The decisions he has to make every day are a tough burden to carry on your own,”—Jaal took a deep breath, lowered his head and continued—“although, considering he thinks of me as his best soldier, he could have bestowed upon me an unrestricted freedom of choice in any situations.”

       “And a better rank?” asked Ryder, giving the angara a friendly understanding smile.

       “Undoubtedly,” agreed Jaal and nodded.

Vetra checked the time on her omni-tool and looked around to make sure they arrived at the right place.

       “Okay, I’ve got to leave you now. See you here exactly in three hours,” she said. “And no being late. Especially it applies to you, Ryder. Nobody will let us back on the ship without the Pathfinder,” she added strictly.

       “And here I started to think that you really worry about me,” replied Ryder in a sad voice.

       “My mothers always worry about you if that makes you feel better,” said Jaal in a sincere attempt to comfort him.

       “Yes, Jaal, this is exactly what I needed to hear.”

       Jaal headed to one of the local ships stationed on the landing area. He intended to visit his family since the vault on Havarl had just been activated, and the crew of the Tempest had some time to consider their subsequent steps in raising the viability of the planet. Besides, it was a good opportunity to just hang around and have some alone time since always being under pressure and not having enough time for themselves could lead to unwanted aftermath in terms of physical and psychological health, and nobody wanted that, especially being hundreds of years far from home.

      Vetra disappeared in the dense forests, heading in the unknown direction with the unknown purpose. She refused to let the Pathfinder know about her business on the planet, but he reckoned it had something to do with illegal shipments. Nothing special, your usual smuggler stuff.

      And Ryder… Well, he simply made up a reason to come. He had some data waiting to be transferred to the angaran scientist here on Havarl, but it surely wouldn’t take him three hours to do that. Usually, he tried to spend every free minute doing something productive and important, but after rescuing the whole planet it would be fair to give his team and himself a little rest. Unofficially, of course.  

       He decided to spend some time talking to the local researchers. The angaran history and culture was so foreign, yet seemed so captivating to him. Of course, humans already went through the phase of first contact with other races, but nobody had seemed so distant till this moment. Nothing here reminded him of familiar worlds, and it was simply riveting.

      Most of the scientists were happy to share what they knew and even more happy to listen to the information he could provide them with. Despite that, some still preferred to stay away from strangers like the Pathfinder. Their distrust could easily be explained by the strong influence of the Roekaar on this planet. Being here, Ryder was content simply with the fact that nobody tried to shoot him on sight only because of him being an alien.

       Having left the safety of the research station behind, he strolled into dense jungles that covered major part of the planet. He didn’t have any particular purpose in mind apart from exploring a bit while he still had the time.

      Due to the abundance of wildlife, it was practically impossible to take a good look around without being in constant fear for your life, so Ryder tried to approach his expedition with caution.

       “Pathfinder, I detect motion in the bushes in front of you. There appear to be two lifeforms engaged in a fight. Be vigilant,” warned him the voice in his head.

       Trusting SAM unconditionally, Ryder turned on tactical vision on his helmet and indeed saw two figures, one of which looked like an angara, and the other one reminded some kind of an animal, most likely a Challyrion, judging by the silhouette. Recalling reports about unnatural mutations which animals on Havarl had undergone, Ryder took out his shotgun, ready both for fight and flight.

With a sharp motion of his hand, he removed the leaves blocking his field of vision only to see Evfra holding a giant beast by its neck. Startled by Pathfinder’s sudden appearance, he got distracted from the animal, which indeed turned out to be a Challyrion, and it managed to break free and go invisible.  

       “Sorry?” mumbled Ryder, still standing with his shotgun drawn out.

       “Hide your weapon”—Evfra shook off bits of non-existent dust from his clothes—“or you might hurt yourself.”

       Ryder removed his weapon back to the holster and took off his helmet, panting. He rubbed his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat, but instead leaving a dark line from his dirty glove.

       “What are you d—”

       Evfra interrupted Ryder and made a gesture with his hand for the Pathfinder to follow him. “It is best if we don’t stand here. It may have fled now, but it will soon come back with all its pack.”

       “Seems like we meet awfully often lately,” commented Ryder, following Evfra.

       “Yes, unfortunately,” grunted Evfra.  

       “Really, what were the odds that I’d stumble upon you here when you are on another mission.”

       Ryder tried to keep up with Evfra’s pace, even though it was quite challenging for him. The heat made it hard to breathe and the fact that he didn’t know the surroundings didn’t help either. The Resistance leader, it seemed, knew every tree and every winding of the path, while Ryder stumbled and bumped into everything.

       “Actually, it is my day off,” stated Evfra indifferently.

       “Visiting your family?”

       “I have no family to visit,” without hesitation said the angara with voice still clear and unshaken.

       “Oh… I didn’t… I mean, Jaal came here to see his family, so I just assumed…” Ryder apologetically lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat.

       “You didn’t kidnap them, so you have nothing to be sorry for.”

       “Did kett do it?” asked Ryder carefully.

       “There was nobody else to do it. Angara are in no habit of harming their own kind.”

       “Is that why you decided to join the Resistance?” asked Ryder. Actually, this particular question was something that had interested him for a long time.

       “That is why I decided to lead it,” answered Evfra, without giving it a second thought.

       “Seems like we have something in common.”

       Evfra hemmed. He could not see a single thing they had in common.

       “Don’t be so skeptical,” said Ryder, noticing his reaction. “I lost my mom 600 years ago and my dad… Let’s just say, he was supposed to be the Pathfinder, not me.”

       “Jaal mentioned you have a sister.” Evfra began walking more slowly, trying to adjust to Ryder’s speed.

       “Yeah,” simply replied Ryder.

       “And where is she know?” continued Evfra, sensing something must be wrong with this topic.

      “Lying in the cryo pod on the Nexus, waiting until I find at least one place appropriate for a new beginning of a human race.” Ryder stopped in front of a massive tree with long crooked branches. He took off his glove to feel its gnarled desiccated texture. “You know, being in a coma, she now talks even less than you. Really doesn’t provide much moral support, huh?”

       Evfra watched the Pathfinder stand before the tree, illuminated by the bluish light emitted by plants endemic to this planet. The facial expression the Pathfinder had reminded him of that one James showed on Kadara when hearing his careless remark about other human Pathfinders.

      Unlike humans, angara not only expressed their emotions freely, but were also able to sense true feelings of others, even in spite of poor manifestation. Evfra mostly expressed anger, impatience and persistence, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know the other ones.

      Misery, despair, grief. He had seen it all long before.

      Not being a master of leading fruitful conversations, he tried to change the topic as best as he could.

      “Was it beautiful on Earth?” he asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

      Ryder made an effort to pull himself together, put on the glove, and turned his reddened face to Evfra.

      “It was. No matter where you went, all places were different. It took years to discover all things that inhabited it and to understand their purpose. I cannot really do justice describing life on Earth, because it is impossible to turn into words.”

      “It is hard to believe such a place existed.”

      “I hope it still does,” said Ryder, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “Being here, sometimes I like to imagine returning to Earth and seeing how everything has changed.”

      “You have already been to some “golden worlds”, as you call them, in our cluster. Did you like any of them?”

      “Well, most of them don’t look the way we expected…”—Ryder rubbed his nose clumsily and gave Evfra another barely noticeable smile—“but even if we imagine that they are habitable… I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ll ever see the place that’s able to make me feel the same way Earth did.”

      “Really?”—some kind of playful air appeared around Evfra; Ryder had never seen him like that before—“Follow me then.”

      James didn’t understand the sudden change, but decided to give in to this strange challenge. He followed Evfra closely, carefully stepping over weird plants and avoiding curious insects hitting him right into his face after approaching way too close. This time the tempo of their walk wasn’t as fast, so it was easier for him to follow.

      They didn’t say a word, but this silence was not at all burdening. Ryder listened to how the wilderness sounded, observed how the Havarl jungles lived and transformed in real time. They didn’t look like anything he had ever seen before yet felt so intimate and not at all threatening, even though they should have.

       Ryder was thinking about how he could prolong this moment and never come back to the Tempest, when they approached an enormous dark wall. It was part of the remnant construction, the likes of which were scattered all around the planet. The cracks in it were glowing with blue and turquoise light, adding to the gleam created by fluorescent plants and fungi.

       “Ready for a quick climb?” asked Evfra the dumbfounded Pathfinder.

       “Only if there’s a safe way down,” said Ryder, although intending to climb up there anyway. It wasn’t every day that he got the opportunity to experience something Evfra willingly wanted to share.

       Evfra started ascending first, showing where it was better to put a foot or a hand. Ryder watched attentively and repeated every step.

      The remnant constructs were as solid and firm as they could be, so there was almost no chance something would collapse under him. Getting used to the overall rhythm of their movements, he began finding his own way up, climbing differently from Evfra.

      Repetitive actions made him dive deep into his thoughts about the remnants and the role they played in the survival of this planet. He couldn’t grasp even the smallest impact they really had on the history and development of life here, and it scared him. Facing such a strong and incomprehensible force made him doubt his most significant success as well as the future of his endeavors.  

       Engulfed into his reflections, Ryder didn’t notice one piece of the construct that was about to fall out and grabbed it. His hand slipped, weighed down by the piece now detached from the wall.

As soon as Evfra heard rustling and swarming under him, he looked down only to see Ryder pathetically hanging on one hand.

       “There is no rest beside you,” he sighed and lowered himself to grab Ryder by his loose arm and pull him up.

       “Thanks,” mumbled the Pathfinder ablush. It really bugged him that whatever he did in front of Evfra led to him embarrassing himself.

       “We are not far, hold on for a little longer.” Evfra’s voice almost sounded comforting and Ryder though that it was unusual for him to be like that.

       After a few more minutes of climbing, they finally reached the top of the construct. Evfra made it up first and offered the Pathfinder his hand once again. Ryder did not attempt to refuse.

       “If you wanted to show me the view from above, we could have just used the Mithrava Ascent,” stated Ryder, overcoming the last obstacle while tightly gripping Evfra’s hand. Having to experience such a treacherous way up, he now wanted to complain a bit to feel better.

       “It is not quite the same. The fog at Mithrava makes it hard to see the real picture. Here the horizon is clear and… there is not a single soul.”

       Red and inhaling jerkily, Ryder got down on his knees to give some rest to his tired limbs and to catch his breath.

       “Take a look,” said Evfra, taking a seat beside Ryder.

       James gazed up slowly and got lost in the open skies. He saw hundreds of stars gleaming through semi-transparent clouds and a huge red Gas Giant taking up a great part of the horizon. It seemed like beyond those starts and clouds he could see other clusters, other galaxies yet unnamed and undiscovered. Beneath the skies lied a sea of trees, living and breathing, the leaves of which whispered in the wind. Dark and bottomless, it reflected the lights of the stars in the glistening surface of plants. From the height he was on, they reminded James of fireflies.

       A strong blow of wind cooled his heated face and made a mess of his short hair. He inhaled calmly, taking his time to fill the lungs with fresh night air, and exhaled. Now there was no place in his mind for the Tempest, for colonies, outposts, and diplomatic fuss. No place for exiles, kett, and all the people they have lost.

       “Here you can pray to your gods. Even if they stayed in your homeworld, they will still hearken,” uttered Evfra under his breath.

       James looked at the other remnant constructs and monoliths towering in the distance. He did not know whom to pray. Everything here was created by someone, but he was alien to this place. For him, there were no gods and no masters, only a vague purpose ahead, unshaped and remote. Far from home, he did not know what destiny awaited his people, but even though he would constantly carry the responsibility for his whole species, now it did not seem that arduous. Now it became an opportunity to outline his own future, intertwined with his people and many others who depended on him.

       “Is it close to how good you’ve felt on Earth?” asked Evfra, his voice still low and quiet.

       “Not even remotely,” said Ryder, smiling to himself. “It is much, much better.”

       He didn’t know for how long they continued to sit there. Frankly speaking, he did not care. He felt like being there at that moment was much more decisive than fighting off hordes of enemies or planning the next offensive.

       When they finally got down, the dreary overgrown forests of Havarl met them with the same apathetic attitude. Nothing altered down here, all the changes remained at the top of the construct and in Ryder’s mind.

       The leader of the Resistance and the Pathfinder exchanged a few words on their way back to the research station, but overall didn’t talk much. Ryder seemed more composed and reserved than ever.

       Being about fifty meters away from the place Ryder was supposed to meet his teammates at, Evfra looked at him one last time and said, “We are quite similar after all, Ryder,” before going his own way.

       “I already told you, my name is—”

       “I remember, no need to repeat,” he threw negligently over his shoulder without turning around.

       The Pathfinder quickly reached the point of destination and was greeted by peacefully snoring Jaal, who leaned on a nearby wall, and nervous Vetra frantically walking back and forth.

       “What. The hell. Is wrong with you?!” she yelled, approaching him and furiously waving her hand. “Three hours! We had to meet in three hours! Not six! That’s twice as much, Ryder, twice!”

       Jaal suddenly woke up because of Vetra’s wailing and rubbed his eyes.

       “Oh, Ryder, finally. Vetra already wanted to go look for you, but I assured her that if you’re lost in the Havarl jungle, there’s nothing she can do about it.”

       Being in high spirits, Ryder laughed off all the questions and inquiries and headed in the direction of the Tempest.

       “Come on, guys, let’s get going,” he appealed to his crewmembers. “The next time we’re in Vortex, drinks are on me.”

       “You are just unbearable, do you know that?” asked Vetra. She was still annoyed no matter what he said in his defense.

       “Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times.”

      “Ask Peebee to go with you when you plan on disappearing for a few hours, she definitely won’t worry about you being eaten by a giant Eiroch or kidnapped by the Roekaar. I am sick and tired, so don’t you even come crawling…”

#Mass Effect #Mass Effect Andromeda #Andromeda #Fiction #Fanfiction #Ryder #Evfra #Ryder/Evfra #Ryder x Evfra #Vetra #Jaal #HGTAG

[theshrubbery]

Here’s the link to my fake-dating snowbaz au! Alternatively, read the next chapter here :)

BAZ

The rest of the week passes in an uncomfortably fast blur, interspersed with Snow asking ridiculous questions that are setting my nerves on edge.

“But Baz, how do I act like your boyfriend?”

“Baz, do I have to hold your hand?”

“Do I have to kiss you?”

Christ above this was a mistake. Why I ever opened my fucking mouth in the first place and told my father what I did, I’ll never know. All I do know, is that I’m not sure I’ll actually survive this holiday knowing my family are going to be thinking Simon Snow is my bloody boyfriend. All I’ll be able to think is how much I wish he was. It feels like cruelty, to wave this in front of my face, to have Simon’s hand in mine and know it’s all for show. I don’t know how I’ll control myself.

I look over in the darkness at Simon’s bed. He’s sleeping, snoring so obnoxiously loudly I can almost pretend for a moment that I dowant to kill him, that I want to smother him out of existence with a pillow instead of smothering my lips against his. Snow does everything with flourish, with so much extra energy and I don’t even think it’s on purpose. It should irritate the shit out of me but I think it’s adorable. It’s adorable how his mouth is hanging open in sleep as he snores, how his golden hair is mussed up around his freckled face.

My chest aches with how badly I want to reach out and touch him. I probably could, if I really wanted to, if I shifted to the edge of the bed and just stretched my arm across, the beds are close enough together. I don’t though, I never have taken advantage of him. I didn’t intend to start either until this little fiasco.

I cannot believe I have to fake-date Simon Snow and somehow keep my feelings to myself, somehow pretend like I’m not touching the sun after all this time. I need to love him in public and hate him in private, it seems so backwards, the complete opposite of what I’ve been doing these past eight years.

I honestly don’t know how I’m getting out of this alive.

“Le’go o’ me you fuckin’…” Snow mumbles in his sleep. His words are garbled around the spit spilling down his face. Disgusting. I want to lick it. God, I’m so disturbed. I sigh, quietly, and roll over in bed. I’ve had enough of watching him sleep for one night, though I don’t know how he’s managing it considering tomorrow I’ll be driving him on his merry way to Hampshire to meet my family and begin this excruciating week of torment.

The next morning is the same as any other, and for a moment I have no idea why I ever imagined it could be different. Snow stretches obnoxiously, as usual, and pushes himself up in his bed, looking blearily around. I watch him in the reflection from where I stand before the mirror, fixing my tie. He looks at me but doesn’t make any sound of acknowledgement. Snow looks down at the bed, out of the window, then at his phone, as though he’s going through the motions and has no idea whether he’s actually awake or not.

“Are you going to get ready any time today?” I ask impatiently. We need to be on the road soon if we’re to make it to Hampshire for the lunch my father and step-mother wanted to prepare. “We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what? Class doesn’t start till nine, it’s only seven-forty,” Snow says in a way that’s so matter-of-fact I almost can’t believe his idiocy. I pause for a second, waiting to see if Simon’s joking, then I slowly turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What?” He asks, defensive.

“Are you actually as stupid as you look?” I ask him, watching as his cheeks heat up and his eyebrows knot together in frustration.

“Fuck off, Baz. Stop talking shit.”

“Uh, no. It’s you who’s talking shit,” I inform him, watching the confusion sweep across his features in a slow wave. It would be funny if he weren’t so infuriatingly dense. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”

Snow stares at me blankly, then a dull realisation drops his jaw.

“Wait…” Snow holds up a hand towards me, using the other to cover his eyes. “That’s today?”

“Yes?” I take a step towards him. “Did you seriously forget? No wonder you slept like a baby last night.” I realise in hindsight that I probably should have left that last part out. It makes it sounds like I was watching him. Which I was, but he doesn’t need to bloody know that.

“Fuck,” Snow says bluntly, pulling his hand away from his eyes and staring at me. My skin tingles. “Fuck, I thought that was next week!”

“Next week? Snow, do you not know what a calendar is? Do you not know the date?”

“Shut up, I wrote it down, I swear!” Snow fumbles with his phone, unlocking it on the fourth attempt and rushing to prove himself right. Except he doesn’t, I know that before he even opens his mouth. Snow’s eyes widen and his face reddens impressively. “Shit. My phone isn’t even set to the right year.”

I can’t help but burst out laughing at how ridiculously stupid Simon Snow is. The great Simon Snow, the scholarship student, the headmaster’s unofficial apprentice, is an absolute fucking prat. I love him for it.

“Christ, Snow, get yourself together,” I say when I’ve collected myself. I smirk at him in a way I know will get under his skin. “Pucker up, buttercup, it’s time to start pretending we’re deeply, deeply in love.”

“Like anyone would ever love you.” I turn around and try not to wince at the sting that leaves behind. Something tells me he doesn’t mean it, probably my hopeless subconscious, the back of my mind telling me maybe this won’t be so bad. But I’m not thick, I know this is going to be atrocious. The way Snow bristles as I pat his back as he walks past with his clothes in his arms is a great signal of how frustrating this next week is going to be.

SIMON

When we get into the car, we’re both silent. My mind is full and busy but for the life of me I can’t think of a way to properly start a conversation. There’s some old rock song playing through the car’s tinny speakers that Baz briefly murmurs belongs to his aunt, and that’s about as close as we get to speaking for the first half an hour or so.

I feel uncomfortable, like I’m being driven to my doom. Baz is dressed all in black, black trousers, black shirt, jacket, everything. He made me dress as presentable as possible before we left too, he said when we got to his house (although I’m expecting something grander than a house) there’d be a formal dinner with compulsory attendance. Compulsory makes it sound impersonal, like it’s less a family gathering and more a business meeting. I didn’t have any ‘formal’ clothes, not like the ones Baz is wearing, not outside of my school uniform, so Baz has lent me a grey turtleneck jumper. It’s soft and smells like something musky; it feels expensive. Apparently I can get away with wearing my school trousers, so I have.

“Stop fidgeting,” Baz says suddenly. It makes me jump a little in my seat, the seatbelt pinches my neck. I clear my throat and shift, tugging the belt away and settling it over my chest. I hadn’t even realised I was fidgeting and part of me suspects I hadn’t been and Baz just wanted an excuse to pick a fight. It wouldn’t surprise me.

I glance up at Baz and watch the tension in his jaw, clenching and unclenching, take in the whites of his knuckles against his smooth skin where they tighten around the wheel. He looks tense. I suppose I can’t really blame him considering the situation we’re in, can I?

“We need to lay down some ground rules,” Baz tells me, looking briefly away from the road to make eye contact, and then just as quickly away. I grimace and scratch the side of my head with my pointer finger if only for something to do other than face the fact I’m about to talk through the laws of mine and Baz’s fake relationship.

“What kind… of ground rules?” I say slowly, keeping my gaze fixed on the road. There’s not really much to see, just the grey of the motorway, the flitting of fields and trees to the left of the car.

“We need to make this believable,” Baz says. I see him swallow thickly out of my peripheral vision. “But not—we don’t need to do anything too hasty.” I think it’s one of the first times I’ve ever actually seen Baz genuinely lose his composure. He seems to be fighting for the right words, he’s agitated and scowling and I’m glad I’m not the only one uncomfortable with the situation. We aren’t even friends, let alone in the position to pretend to be boyfriends. I don’t even know if I’m gay.

“So what do we actually have to do? Are we going to have to kiss?”

“No.” Baz says immediately, before the last syllable has even left my lips. I look at him in surprise. “I mean. Maybe. If the situation calls for it. Obviously we just need to make sure we’re believable enough to fool my father and I can’t see why he’d expect us to kiss.”

I nod and look back out of the window. “What about hugging? Holding hands?”

“Just stand close to me and we should be fine. Don’t get trying anything, Snow.”

“Trying anything?” I parrot, incredulous. What kind of ideas does that prat have in his head? “Sorry, Baz, you’re handsome but you’re not that handsome. Fuck off.”

“Just do whatever you did with Wellbelove,” Baz says offhandedly. Then he realises what he’s just said and grimaces. “Actually, no. Just—you get the fucking idea, Snow, don’t you?”

“Righto, Baz,” I say, leaving a beat of silence whilst I consider the weight of my next words. “I’ll leave the fucking part out.” The car swerves sharply to the right as Baz splutters before he realises what he’s doing. His face is the most menacing shade of red I think I’ve ever seen and I can’t help but burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all.

“You did that?” Baz’s voice is strained, a thick vein bulges in the column of his flushed throat. I imagine I can see his pulse thrumming.

“No, I’m joking, calm your tits, Baz.” I wave a hand dismissively, pretending I don’t notice how Baz seems to sink back into his seat with relief. He was probably pissed that he thought I’d beaten him to it. “The most we did was a bit of groping.”

“Snow, I don’t want to know about whatever depraved antics you and Wellbelove got up to.”

“Are you sure you don’t care?” I retort. “Seeing as you’re the reason she left me and all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Baz says. He’s recovered himself from whatever the flying fuck thatemotional display was earlier, and now his smug smirk is plastered back on his face. The one that tells me he knows exactly what he’s saying and exactly what he’s doing to piss me off. “I never liked her anyways. She obviously just had enough of you.”

“You literally flirted with her!” I snap, recalling how I caught them in the woods behind the school at the end of last year. “I saw you both holding hands like a couple of fairies in fantasy land! Staring into each other’s eyes like you were about to break out into song and dance into the sunset!”

“Jesus Christ, Snow, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Baz flicks a curl of hair out of his face with a deft movement of his head. I want to take his hair and pull it straight out. “I promise you, nothing happened in those woods. Wellbelove thought I was into her and was trying to get me to go out with her. Obviously I didn’t. I have no interest in her. She left you of her own accord, thank you very much.”

“Fuck off, Baz,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say, and because I need to calm down if I’m going to make this whole fake dating debacle look even slightly real. Baz scoffs at me but I barely hear it, all I can think about is the way Baz had stared at Agatha whenever he saw us together. I don’t buy the shit he’s spouting, it’s obvious he wanted to come between me and Agatha, it was just another of his schemes. I need to remember throughout this that at the end of the day Baz is still my enemy, I can’t let my guard down too far or it’ll just come round to bite me in the ass.

BAZ

Simon Snow is a fucking imbecile. Of course I don’t have any feelings for Wellbelove. For starters she’s not a bloke, instantly off my radar. For seconds she’s not Snow, so I really couldn’t care less. This whole conversation has only served to remind me that Snow will probably never figure out why I do what I do, that I came between them for my own selfish reasons rather than for a shot at his girlfriend. I know it makes me a git, I know that it’s a pretty despicable thing to do, even to your proclaimed enemy, but still. Seeing them together was a special kind of death. They were an atrocious fit for one another anyways, Snow should be grateful. He can do so much better than her.

The rest of the drive is silence. Snow hums lowly to one of the songs at some point, as though he’s forgotten who it is that’s driving the car, then I see him jolt out the corner of his eye and he goes quiet again. Other than that there’s nothing but Aunt Fiona’s CDs filling the air. It’s thick with tension. Probably sexual tension on my part, but I doubt Snow picks up on that.

“We’re nearly there now,” I say as we approach the grand metal gates at the start of the road marking our private land. Snow had fallen into a kind of stupor, half dozing with his head against the window, not really paying attention to what was outside of the car. It was kind of adorable, I wanted to wrap him in a blanket and hold him close.

“Woah…” Snow perks up, pressing his hands into his seat either side of his legs as he leans forwards to get closer to the window. I roll down my own window and lean out, typing the passcode to open the gates and not hiding my smugness as how utterly bloody delighted Snow gets as they slowly creak open and we drive through. “You live here?”

“No, I live at Watford.” I reply bluntly, trying to get under Snow’s skin. He tuts at me, swears, and then passes over my aggression entirely.

“This is incredible,” Snow praises as the manor comes into view with its elaborate Victorian architecture lined with trees on either side, a large garden complete with hedges, flower beds, and a water fountain sitting before it. To me this was normal, it was home, what I’d grown up with, to Snow it was something out of a dream. “I never knew people actually lived like this.”

“My family is very prosperous,” I say offhandedly, ignoring the way my stomach is bubbling with the nerves of introducing Snow to my father and the adoration I feel for his stupid fucking face. “It makes sense.”

“Yeah, but this?” Snow is still gawping. He fumbles to unclip his seatbelt as soon as I stop the car in the driveway to the side of the main entrance without looking away from the building. I refrain from reaching out and doing it for him. I really want to. But instead I unclip my own and open the door to the car, barely smothering a laugh as Snow almost falls flat on his face in his haste to get out.

“Put your face right before a fly lays eggs in there,” I snap. Even I can tell it lacks my usual malice, though. “Come on you blithering idiot, we need to go and meet my father.” This sobers Snow right up. His mouth snaps closed and his eyes widen, as though he’d completely forgotten the whole reason we were even here in the first place. I hate to admit that I wouldn’t put it past him—not considering he’s the same fool who had his phone set to the wrong year and hadn’t ever noticed.

“I—Baz—” He grabs the sleeve of my arm as I walk past him, I could easily break free and keep going, but I don’t. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. His legs are spread where he stands, his knees slightly bent as though he’s considering legging it. I really hope he doesn’t. I don’t have a clue how I’d explain that one to my father. Not that he can get out anyways, the grounds are all fenced in and I don’t intend on telling Snow the passcode.

“Spit it out then,” I say, watching his cheeks flood with colour.

“I don’t know what to do,” Snow says earnestly. I don’t know what to tell him.

“Just pretend to be my boyfriend, easy.” It’s not easy.

“But what if your dad hates me?” I roll my eyes.

“Of course he’ll hate you. That’s the whole point of this exercise, idiot.” I pull my sleeve from his hand. “You’ll be fine, just come on. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” In place of my sleeve, I put my hand through his instead. It feels alien and unfamiliar as I tighten my fingers around his palm and he reflexively curls his around mine. His hand is warm and rough and not for the first time I wonder why I’m doing this to myself.

“Uh…” Snow looks down at our joined hands, looking like he’s short-circuited, but he doesn’t try to pull his hand back. My heart is thudding in my chest and I hope to God my hand doesn’t start sweating.

“We best start now,” I say before Snow has a chance to back out of it. I fix the collar of his (my) turtleneck with my free hand, as casually as I can manage through the thundering in my chest, and I quickly turn and start leading him to the doorway of the house to hide the hitch in my breath when my hand accidentally brushes against the skin of his neck.

And then, we’re standing, hand-in-hand, on the doorstep to my father’s manor, knowing that he’s on the other side. I look to Snow and Snow looks to me. I can’t work out how he’s feeling but his fingers twitch against the back of my hand. I hope he can’t read my face either. I push the door open and we step inside the polished interior towards the dining room where my father waits for us.

#snowbaz #simon snow #snowbaz fanfiction #snowbaz fic rec #snowbaz fic #baz #tyrannus basilton pitch #baz grimm pitch #basilton pitch #carry on #carry on fandom #carry on fanfiction #wayward son fanfic #wayward son #fanfiction #simon snow fanfiction #cibcty

[mskimkaty]

love song

MarkleexReader

wc: 2.8k

Mark lee hated the rain, but not today.

Mark lee hated the rain— though it was originally his fault that he would always leave his folding umbrella at home. It's too heavy, that's what he taught. His hair was already a little wet, same as the black jacket that he bought last week together with Jungwoo.

He was supposed to meet up with his cousin before their first subject started. Lee Donghyuck transferred universities and he was supposed to tour him a little bit on their first day— but here he was, a mess on his first day of the sophomore year near the university. He pulled out his phone and instantly Hyuck’s name lit on his phone's screen.

"Yo, I'm like— stuck in here at the bus stop. It's pouring mad in here." He says cutting the greeting part. "Hyung, you were supposed to tour me around." Haechan's voice boomed in his right ear, Lee Donghyuck was that brat— smart and cute but still a brat, nonetheless. He almost failed half of his subjects back at his old university, he's the kid who doesn't like sleep and just play his games all day long, even skipping classes because of his game tournaments— that his mom had enough of his bullshit and made him transfer to Mark's school. Which, what his cousin really wanted. Despite that, Donghyuck is smart and know his way around things, he can be annoying at times but nevertheless Mark considers him his best friend.

"Hey, I know. I'll make it up to you. I promise! but I don't think I can make it, I'll probably arrive on second period." Mark looked at his wristwatch, 15 minuter till their first-class start. He knew that if he ran he would make it on time, though, wet and sweaty— but he won't have any of that on his first day, the first day of classes tend to be introductions and explaining of syllabus and grading system, anyways.

He decided to walk a little bit ahead, taking shelter with his hoodie, he entered the coffee shop he frequented with Johnny and Jaehyun. He ordered his first cup of coffee for the day and settled down at their usual spot near the window— he would sometimes lose his self-thinking while looking at the ceiling where the shadow of the branches of the trees outside hovers above the ceiling, also it provides shadow especially when summer comes and rays of the sunlight were too hot and blinding for him. He specifically liked the spot.

the rain started pouring heavily, he put his backpack beside him and stares outside. He actually has another reason why he specifically liked this spot. He waited patiently, across the street he can visually see the blinking of the orange light on the stoplight with a person walking sign on it— blinking rapidly as if asking people to start crossing the street.

people started walking to cross the street and that's when his eyes started searching for that one particular person crossing the street every Monday morning, specifically when the clock strikes ten in the morning. Worry started to cross his face when he finally laid his eyes on you, running across the street. 10 seconds and the light would turn green, your jeans were already a little bit soaked as well, Mark started to panic when you ran to get inside the cafe.

His eyes always followed you, when you walked to the counter and ordered a hot latte for yourself.

"Mark?" was what you blurted when you saw him.

"oh y/n?” Mark asked back, obviously pretending that he didn't actually wait for you and saw you cross the street. Playing it cool that he didn't watch you walked inside the cafe.

"What? are you also late?" you asked as you settled down in front of him, you are Taeyong's younger sister, having the same age as Mark and the others in his brother's circle of friends made you go along well with him. "Yeah, the rain's a pain in the ass," he answered and you just giggled while shaking your head lightly, "tell me about it."

you started to gather your hair in your hands and put it in a messy bun, it was slightly wet and you were uncomfortable with it, the sleeves of your coat was a little bit damp due to the rain so you took it off and hang it on the chair beside you, your cheeks were slightly pink form all the work you’ve had done and Mark watched you silently despite you knowing. "We actually had the first subject together." you blurted as a matter of fact.

Mark actually knew about it. He had to buy your brother a new pair of sneakers just to get his hands on your schedule. So, you both practically have all your classes together this semester. Taeyong knew about his little crush on his sister, he would always tell Mark to man up and just confess, but Mark was always awkward around girls. He was a mess, a little bit shy but chaotic most of the times, he practically grew up with you together, as he always hangs out with your brother, or when Taeyong would bring you around because he can't really leave you alone in your own house. The boys don't really mind as they like having you around anyways.

He would sometimes send signals to you, but all efforts would go to vain. You are that dense. Almost all of your friends knew about it, and they take humor on Mark's sufferings but you are a woman who stood hard on your own grounds and Taeyong can't be bothered about it.

"Don't you have an umbrella?" Mark awkwardly asked to dodge your previous statement, his cheeks slightly turning another shade of red from remembering how his hyung and the others teased him— especially Johnny. Just to get his hands on your schedule. "What the? are you her stalker?" he remembered how Taeyong teased him slightly "man up, just confess! it's been a year already." the sound of Taeyong's voice while cracking up ranged inside his head till today, and he remembered how he almost grab Donghyuck's neck for saying his whipped for you.

"I actually do." you answered after taking a sip on your drink. "It's just a few steps from here to the bus stop, I got lazy taking it out, that's why I ran." you said explaining.

all he could do was shook his head in disagreement, mark pulled his handkerchief out and pass it to you,

and willingly took it.

"Do you want to walk with me to the school?" you asked. He nodded his head and gathered his belongs. You finally bought your umbrella out and handed it to Mark. "you hold this. I'm to lazy to do it." you said handling the folded umbrella to the later who took it without further a do.

You were always comfortable around Mark, and he doesn't know what to think of it, is it a good thing or a bad thing? being to comfortable to one another means that the other party could view you as someone who's close enough to be involve romantically or worse, as a sibling— and Mark Lee definitely don't want anything to the with the later part. No, he doesn't even think of you as a sister, he doesn't even want to be just friends with you.

maybe Donghyuck was right, he was indeed whipped for you.

He waited until you were was in the comforts of your coat, he glance down at you and open the umbrella putting it above your heads, he took a risky step closer at you and you instantly rapped your hands around his arms that was holding the umbrella. His breath hitched a little but he made no move and just stay still as your shoulders brush past each other.

Mark was thinking a lot of things and he's having mixed feelings inside, something about you seems to change. You suddenly lost the baby fats in your face and body, even just wearing jeans made your legs looked long with your honey thighs, the young girl he knew completely vanished towards his eyes.

He continued walking— ignoring what was running into his head, he could feel you strongly beside him, you both started the journey towards your campus gates and the rain suddenly started pouring heavily. He grab your shoulder and press your body towards his, bringing the umbrella more towards you so that you won’t be drenched.

"Ya, Lee Min-hyung." you looked back at him your face completely serious, suddenly scared that you might be mad for touching you without permission— Mark uttered a small and quick sorry. You pushed back his hands that was holding the umbrella back to its original place between you so that you both take shelter inside.

"What are you doing, your going to get drench." you said.

"Oh." he said, As you move closer to him while holding on to his waist so that both side of your bodies where pressed together.

Mark couldn't take it anymore, he doesn't like being touch by anyone, but you were an exception. The only person who could touch him was you, he'd let you do anything you wanted with him, and he would always let you.

his hands started to get sweaty, his heart was a mess that he could practically hear it beat all the way, the scent of sweet vanilla that radiates from you wasn't helping either.

you looked back at him again as you both go through the sidewalk, you study his face and saw how Mark came off looking annoyed to you. So, you give him a little space, removing your hands from his waist and taking a step away from him. Her right sleeves starts to get wet already and Mark notice the lack of contact.

"Ya, y/n. your getting wet. do you want to get sick?" he said, imitating what you said earlier.

"I thought you're annoyed with me."

"Where did that came from?" he asked, silence fall between the two of you, you both could hear the sound of rain falling from your umbrella, students walked fast past you as to avoid the rain and from getting drench as well but you both took their time from walking.

"You looked annoyed, I thought you're uncomfortable that I'm touching you." you answered truthfully, you both stopped from walking, your body automatically facing each other— Mark spotted a drop of water that trails down from your cheeks, unknowingly to him, he reached out and wiped his finger on it, his hands gliding to the smooth surface of your skin. you were taken aback by the gesture, you looked at him, questions filled your mind and is starting to build one by one.

You were never the type to beat around the bush, you were always frank and straight forward, but you know your limitations, you kept to yourself the opinions you knew that will be stepping boundaries towards the other person, and you’re matured despite your age. But without thinking through it— you blurted out "Do you like me?"

that was the only thing that you hates the most to your self, you sometimes can't control your mouth, and this was the perfect example of it. Moments come when you just want to suddenly transport from different places, when you want the ground to eat you, or when you where so embarrassed by your own self you just want to disappear.

Mark was indeed taken aback, he can't believe what was happing. He put his hands down, sliding it inside his pants pocket, his head hangs down—bitting on his lower lip from embarrassment, how can he touch you? suddenly? how can he lost his focus so much when it comes to you?

his chest where practically banging inside him, begging to be freed, he took a deep breath. fuck it.

"Yeah. I do."

Surprised was an understatement. You did not see that coming, specially from the Mark Lee, himself. You started doubting him, maybe he was pulling pranks on you, and so you studied him. you waited until he laughs and tells you that he was just messing around, but it never came.

There's no way that he would like you, Mark was quite famous in their University, and you were only known because you are the younger sister of Lee Taeyong, there's nothing really special when it comes to you— you were even down the lane of those whose considered average. Not even one attempted to flirt with you during your first year of college, you are that girl who live as her brother's shadow.

"Why?" you asked when Mark didn't say anything.

"Why not?" Mark asked back. You laughed at the situation and Mark felt slightly offended.

"That was quite offending, why are you laughing?" Mark asked back.

"I mean, why me? haven't you heard of the rumors in the campus?" you asked, his heart started to beat faster. "What rumors?" for a second, Mark's mood turned sour just thinking that the rumors might be you dating someone. Maybe he still hasn't made his self clear around those who wanted you for themselves. It was no secret that Lee Taeyong is a protective brother, but even his squad joined from being protective towards you, you don’t really mind— but Mark Lee was different. He actually put dibs on you, of course, you were dense, you don’t even think of it like that. A lot of students already knew of that fact.

"Kang Ji-eun? the pretty girl from the Architecture Department? she was all over the place about you."

Mark actually heard of her, Taeil teased him the other day about that Kang Ji-eun and the others followed suit taking turns on teasing him, saying that if things doesn't work out with you, he could always turn around and hit on the chick. He dismissed the idea before it even formed on his head.

"Yah, I just told you that I liked you, and you’re practically selling me off to some girl that I don't even give a single damn." He can't help but retort. You can't stop your self from smiling. "You're turning me down, at the same time you're practically offending me. Wow. Just how dense are you?" Mark can't help but joke around as he started to walk, leaving you behind.

You put your arms up to shield your face from the rain and catch up to him. "It's just doesn't make sense! ya! Lee Min-hyung, let's go together!" you shouted jogging to him again. Mark waited for you, they both looked at each other and laugh.

"You're so awkward from confessing, you know, not romantic at all." you joked. "I just can't bring myself from believing you, you always joke around with the others, pulling pranks on me, how can I believe it? you know?" you started to talk fast, mumbling to your self.

With the new found confidence, Mark pulled you back to him, crashing your body towards him— with a swift move, he circled his free hand around your waist and crashed his lips towards yours. He took his sweet time, didn't move until he felt you relax towards his touch. You lean towards him, your palms hovers in his chest as he pulls you more towards his body, leaving no space between you and as close as possible.

you tasted heavenly and Mark couldn't get enough of it, but he stopped anyway, he looked at your reaction— his chest felt full and suffocated at the same time, just by looking at your face, you started to feel mixed feelings again that you buried along time ago, your brows where furrowed as you opened your eyes. It was gleaming with so much joy.

"All this time?" you asked him.

"All this time." He answered as he looked lovingly at you. You both laughed at each other as you both start walking again.

"You can't be serious. Did you also liked me, all this time?" You laughed out loud as if to confirm his question. Mark couldn't believed it, for the first time in his life he loved the rain more that anything.

#marklee #mark #donghyuck #doyoung #haechan #johnny #jaehyun #taeyong #yuta #taeil #winwin #jungwoo #nct #nct127

[crazybutcutecatlady]

Hello! This is my first ff, so I hope you like it! It’s complete Jin fluff, maybe a bit of angst? If you squint really hard, you may see it. I did give it a title image, but the photograph itself is not mine. Also, any feedback would be welcome! Enjoy!

Jin x reader (Oneshot) Fluff 3K word count

   The chill of September had just started to settle in, leaves had begun to alter their hues just a week or two ago, and new winds blew the blazing canopies from their lofty perches. You had just got off work three hours ago. You washed away the day’s stress and changed into full fall cozy attire. A soft, dense burnt orange sweater, brown leggings and thick, fluffy fox socks to top it off. Indulging in the clean autumn vibes, you make yourself a cup of your favorite tea, grab your favorite book, and the most fitting blanket. You’ve barely settled in when you hear an unfamiliar engine roar outside.                        

    Typically, your neighborhood is very quiet, and most residents opt for public transportation rather than a vehicle of their own. Highly curious, you peek out of the window to peek at the machine. A G-Wagon was parked outside your door, its light pink paint being just as loud as the engine, highly contrasting the old, traditional Korean architecture that surrounds it.  A corresponding pink hat came bobbing out the car and towards your door. Rolling your eyes, you strode over to the door, opening it just before your star-eyed lover could knock on the door. His pink sweater paw hung in the air as he looked at you in slight bewilderment.

    “So, are you keeping things color-themed today?” You teased. He looked you up and down before cocking an eyebrow.

    “Yeah, but I’m not alone, “he playfully retorted. You chortled before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, giving him a little peck on his soft lips before sinking back down on your heels. You pulled back confused though, there were so many strange elements to this sudden event.

    “What brings you here, Jinnie? You didn’t call or anything. And what’s with-”

    “Surprise!” He exclaimed, “We’re going on a date! Go grab warmer clothes and as many blankets as you can, ok?”

    “Wait, wait, wait! What’s with the car? What happened to the Lamborghini?!?”

    “The Lamborghini wouldn’t work for what I’ve got planned, so I bought this.”

    “What?!? Jin, real-“

     “Yes, really. Trust me, it’ll be perfect. Perfect for my princess <3 Now go grab your stuff!” With that, he placed a warm kiss on your head and turned to the car. You stood there for a moment, in a daze, when you heard him call out, “Warm clothes! I mean it!”

       You turned with a huff, finding his extravagance annoying and amusing at the same time. But once he has his mind set on something, whether it’s a goal, an aesthetic, or anything, he’ll stop at nothing to see it executed perfectly. Sometimes the most you could do was shake your head and hang on for the ride. You slipped a pair of jeans over your leggings, grabbed a coat, grabbed several blankets, and put on a pair of boots. Considering the weather hasn’t reached full winter, you thought you might be overdressed, but then again, Jin warned you to dress warmly and he usually says exactly what he means. You poured your tea into a travel mug and waddled your way towards the door, the big load making you clumsier than ever. Getting impatient, Jin made his way back to the door and was greeted by the sight of you trying to balance several blankets, your coat, and a hot cup of tea. He broke out into a grin and leaned his tall frame on the doorway.

     “Need some help, love?” he taunted. You barely managed to give him a pout over the blankets in response. He laughed before taking several blankets from you, as well as a firm kiss.

     “This date better be damn good,” you huffed.

     “Trust me, my love, it’ll be worth it,” he promised, the look in his eye warming as he took in your bundled-up figure.

      You throw the blankets in the backseat and tried to peer around to see what he was up to. Before you could make out anything besides the massive pile of blankets and pillows he pulled you back by your waist with a tut. He threw the blankets past you and pulled you closer.

      “Don’t ruin the surprise, sweetie! Upfront you go!” He said as he steered you to the passenger side, landing a little smack on your butt. You turned at him indignantly, only to feel his lush lips crash into yours. He pressed you against the cool car door, his lips softening and deepening the kiss till your lungs burned for air. When he finally broke free he buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply. Pulling back, you could see a flame in his dark eyes as well as a satisfied smile on his flushed lips.

       “Been thinking of that all day,” he said with a dark chuckle. Walking away towards the driver’s side, leaving you stunned, you heard him call out,

       “Ah, aren’t you lucky?!? Having such a handsome and romantic man by your side?!?”

       You both climbed into the car, giggling. Just before you clicked your seatbelt in you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He poured out all his sweet affection as he gazed back at you.

       “I am so, so, lucky. I love you, my handsome man,” you admitted once more. No matter how many times you say it, you mean it fully every time. The raw tenderness of the moment thickened the air, till it was nearly suffocating.

      “You forgot “romantic”, love,” he prodded with a taunting smile, cutting the tension in half. You shoved him back, laughing. His smirk grew into a cheeky grin, wide and heartfelt. He settled into the driver’s seat and pulled the car out of park.

       “I can’t wait to show you what I have planned.”

         The drive stretched into the evening. The sun was lowering itself towards the horizon, staining the clouds overhead, and a sweet chill settled throughout the air. The ride was peaceful with gentle music and contentment filling up the car. You watched as the suburbs waned into rural areas, till finally, you were in the palms of nature. The road you had taken stretched up and over the expanse of the mountains. You understood why Jin wanted the G Wagon now. The Lamborghini wouldn’t have been able to handle these overgrown dirt roads.

        Despite the slight jarring of the road, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. Every turn had the sun shifting between the flushed crowns of the towering trees, casting a new perspective throughout the expansive woods. The road wound up and down, around and between the folds of the mountains. Eventually, the road passed between two peaks and descended into a deep valley, free from the touch of humanity. Still, Jin drove further before pulling off the main path. You were slightly alarmed but too curious to question him. Not far from the road was a small clearing, filled with tall grass and resistant flowers, encircled by a ring of fiery trees. Jin pulled the car around so that the back of the car was facing the clearing.

       “Stay right here, and no peeking!” Jin said as he began grabbing things and clamoring out of the car.

       “What happens if I peek?” you asked with feigned innocence. His head popped around the corner, his eyes were dark and ominous. Altogether, the image was an adorable collage of contradictions. His serious glare contrasting the tufts of dark hair that peaked out if his pink hat, his strong athletic figure hidden under a corresponding large pink hoodie, and the brightness of the pink against the dim and withering outdoors. He reached over grabbed your chin and pulled you towards him.

       “If you peek, I will not share the wine I bought for us,” he threatened in a low voice. Your eyes lit up.

       “You got us wine?!?” You exclaimed. Jin always knew where to find the best wine. Never once has his taste failed you! It seemed he always knew what you were craving and what paired with the meal best. He dropped his head with a sigh, mentally kicking himself for giving you too much information. But when he lifted his head and looked into your shimmering, anticipating eyes, he lost any sense of negativity.

        “Of course I got us wine! I’m the most romantic man in this country, if not the world! How could you forget my virtues so easily?” He whined. Laughing at his antics you asked, “Did you bring roses as well?” with a tease. He looked you dead in the eye before grabbing a rose bouquet from the back. With a cock of his eyebrow, he handed them to you as you stared back in delighted shock.

        “It would be unforgivable if I didn’t, beautiful. Can you even imagine it? Me? Forgetting to bring roses? Absurd! Did my princess forget who she’s with?” His rambling left you in a fit of laughter as you took the roses from him. He smiled softly before pinching your cheek. “It’ll be just a second, love.”

                     You sat back and listened to him positioning things and rustling around, fighting the increasing need to give just one backward glance. Instead, you finished off your tea and focused on the sickly-sweet scent of the roses. A minute or two later Jin opens your door and offers you his hand. You take it with a smile that causes his heart to flutter. Hopping out of the car, he guides you towards the trunk, presenting the most beautiful and endearing sight.

        The backseats had been removed, giving enough room to lounge comfortably together. The bed of the car had a thick pillow-like blanket over it, and the sides were lined with pillows. The trunk door hung over you with fairy light strewn all over it, reaching all around the upper interior of the car. An open picnic basket filled with hot food and thermostats sat in the middle with a bottle of your favorite wine placed strategically in front. You gasp, unable to close your mouth and unable to stop smiling. Tears welled up in your eyes as you drank it all in. Meanwhile, Jin was eagerly drinking in your reaction, heart-swelling at your glistening eyes. He turned you towards him by your waist, your eyes a little slower to follow. But once they’re on him the whole world seems to pale in comparison.  He leaned in and kissed you affectionately, engulfing your lips with his. His arms coiled tightly around the curve of your waist as you reached up and over his broad shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck. You both stayed like this for a minute, completely satisfied to just hold one another for a little while. When he pulled away you breathed out, “Jin this is perfect.”

       “Did you expect anything less from me, princess? “he said with a breathy laugh, “Go ahead. Get comfortable,” he said as he nudged you towards the trunk, following in close pursuit. He laughed as you excitedly hopped into the back like a child.

       Time streaked by as you two dined on Jin’s homemade dishes and slowly emptied the wine bottle. You talked in between bites, sharing secrets and small proclamations of love. The sun had all but entirely disappeared over the horizon before Jin pushed the basket away, grabbing a case of fresh cookies and thermostats of hot chocolate. The two of you snuggled, nibbled, and sipped as you watched the stars come out of hiding. Eventually, time was lost on you two. An endless sea of stars stretched overhead as you two discussed the wonders and possibilities of the universe.

        “Jin, do you think we knew each other in a past life?” You questioned dreamingly. He turned towards you, drinking in your image and your presence, wondering how he could’ve survived any life without you.

        “I’m not sure. If we did, I don’t think you could ever forget me” he said bluntly, causing you to scoff before he could finish, “I know I sure as hell could never forget you.”

        You froze slightly before looking up into his eyes, with your own resembling an owl. They bore down on you, dark, strong, intense, and completely certain. The next thing you knew, you were bound in his arms, seeing nothing but fireworks as he pressed his lips further than before. His tongue gently worked its way into your mouth, hypnotizing you completely as you melt into his arms. The make-out session intensifies, till you’re both tired and out of breath. Tipsy from the wine and each other, you both opt to snuggle close to each other for a cozy nap under the stars.

                     Hours had passed before the extreme cold woke both of your shivering figures. Jin sat up, wincing at the soreness over his body. You followed with a similar grimace, trying to comprehend your surroundings. You both had fallen asleep in each other embrace, but as the night stretched on and the temperatures dropped, not even your body heat could fight off the bitter cold. The blankets were stiff too. In fact, upon closer examination, you could plainly see the frost that coated the blankets and matted your hair as well as Jin’s.            

        Had the cold not turned you miserable, the scene would have been breathtaking. It was the first frost of the season, and it had certainly set a standard for the approaching winter. The frost had taken hold over the clearing, claiming the last few standing flowers and weighing down the tall grass. Your combined breath hung like clouds in the still air, the silvery full moon casting an ethereal glow over the motionless woods.

        Jin pulled himself out of the trunk with a mumbled curse. He unfolded his height and tried to stretch the stiffness from his muscles, earning and even deeper contortion of pain. He turned and pulled you out of the trunk, your muscles refusing to cooperate. Once you finally stood up, he shook out a blanket and wrapped it around you. He guided your sleepy figure towards the passenger seat and tucked you in. He made sure everything was packed up and then carefully drove out of the valley.

           You woke up in your bed with Jin snuggled close beside you. You could barely recall getting home. Your throat was tight, your head was throbbing, and your lungs were burning. Soon you began to notice that Jin’s breathing was uneven, and his skin was flaring. Sweat was clinging to the both of you, and your body trembled in protest as you made a slow effort to get up. You gingerly walked towards the kitchen, making a hot porridge and honey-heavy tea for both of you. When you came back, JIn was tossing and turning with his fever. You set the breakfast down, hurrying to grab a cold rag for him. As soon as you placed it on his head he began to calm down. You slowly ate your breakfast, trying not to push your stomach too far. The tea helped immensely.

          You were just about finished when Jin woke up. His breath grew shorter as he pulled himself up, looking around confusedly with the cool rag dropped into his lap. He was still horribly stiff and aching. You rushed over to him, gently cupping his cheeks. His frown deepening in your palms as he took in your own fevered expression.

          “Jinnie, baby, how are you feeling?” You asked worriedly. He lowered his face into your palms, hiding his face before mumbling, “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

          You looked at him confused. Your hands drifted to the back of his neck and over his thigh as you lowered your head, trying to catch his eye.

          “No, no, no, my love! Mi amore, how could you even think that?!?” You dotingly exclaimed. His head snapped up in an irate response.

          “I should’ve taken you home!” He said as loud as his raspy voice would allow. It caused you to flinch. Upon seeing that he lowered his head and voice again, “Instead, I let us sleep in the freezing cold. And now, you’re sick. Because of me.” He bemoaned. You tutted before pulling his large frame against you.

         “Jin, last night was perfect. I wouldn’t change one second of it,” you reassured him as you caressed his hair and rubbed out one of his shoulders, “We were both tired and tipsy. It’s ok,” before he could defend his guilt you added, “Plus, I’m already feeling better! Eat your breakfast and drink your tea, it’ll help. And when you’re ready, we’ll soak in the bath together, mmk?”

          A pair of deep dark puppy eyes looked up at you before a mumbled “ok” passed his swollen lips. You pressed a kiss to his head and squeezed his shoulder before getting up to draw your bath. In a couple of minutes, he had finished his breakfast, feeling better as promised, and you had a steaming aromatic bath ready for the both of you.

         He slowly entered the bathroom, guilt still evident on his face. You smiled at him lovingly, pretending to lean in for a kiss before pulling his shirt over his head. He became less tense with your antics and pressed you to the wall, reclaiming the kiss with a smile. You returned the smiley kiss with one hand pressed on his firm chest and the other sliding up to cup the nape of his neck. Your grin widened as he pulled back.

         “You know, even when sick you’re still my Mr. Worldwide Handsome.”

          “I thought I was the Dorito Man?” He said with a quirk of his eyebrow and a small crooked smile. You hummed with a gentle smile and gave a small nod.

           “Yeah, that too.” You said matter of fact-ly.

            He laughed softly before he began stripping you down. Before long, the bathroom floor was covered in scattered clothes. The two of you were snuggled against each other in the bath, tracing images on each other’s skin while exchanging jokes and kisses.

#jin #seokjin fluff #bts seokjin #bts fluff #oneshot #seokjin oneshot #seokjin boyfriend au #jin fluff #jin one shot #jin ff #seokjin ff #my fiction #my first fic ever #my first fanfic #my imagines #boyfriend au #3k words

[austinonymous]

After A Long Night Out

Title: After A Long Night Out

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Ship: Marc x Nathaniel

Characters: Marc, Nathaniel, Alix, Marinette

Prompt: First Date, from @nathmarcnovember

Word Count: 1,284

Summary: Just because you manage to ask your crush out and manage a successful date, doesn’t mean you don’t get after-date nerves. Luckily, best friends are there for you afterward.

AN: Full disclosure, I’m not really into Miraculous Ladybug show/fandom, but I adore Marc and his design, and I find the ship very cute. So enjoy some scribblings of mine.

"God, I was so awkward," Nathaniel groaned as he leaned back in his chair in his room, a loud and irritating squeak being drawn from its spring. Air escaped his lips and he began pressing his face into his hands as Alix chuckled next to him. It was a late night for the both of them, with school tomorrow morning; Nathaniel was beyond tired after a long day but he was numb to it right now. The wind whistled loudly outside, strong enough to send leaves and papers swirling around pedestrians legs and ruffling the hair of those walking. His mind wandered back for a moment to the messy black hair of his date and he felt his cheeks flush yet again, the heat creeping over them. God, he felt like he needed to slap himself a few times to get his mind back on track.

"Well, it was your first date ever if I remember correctly, you'll get better at it with time. Besides," Alix said with a smirk, "It only matters if both of you had fun with it right?" She leaned against his desk, looking over the panels of the latest comic Nathaniel and Marc had made together. Ladybug soared over the cityscape, fighting the most recent Akuma that had appeared in town. Nathaniel was especially proud of his coloring in this one and couldn't wait to show it to his writing partner when it was all done. They'd both improved quite a bit from the first comic they had made. Maybe they weren't quite ready to sell their comics as professionals (and they certainly didn't own the Ladybug image), but... well, those thoughts about life after graduating were best reserved for another day.

Meanwhile, the redhead focused back on his friend's words and shrugged, "I guess but- even our first kiss felt awkward Alix" Nathaniel said in somewhat-serious-horror. It hadn't been anything like he had imagined his first kiss with someone would be. It hadn't happened till the end of the date, as he was walking Marc home under the Parisian night sky. The chill of the night seeped through their hoodies and jackets and Marc had pressed up against him for warmth. Even the thought of what had led up to that quick and clumsy first kiss made Nathaniel blush in embarrassment.

"Well I don't know if you noticed Nathaniel, but you and Marc aren't the smoothest guys in the world, by any means. I don't think I need to remind you how your first day of knowing each other went?" Alix said, smirking softening. She tried not to bring up that day to them too often cause of how big of a mess it had been. But sometimes, both Nathaniel and Marc were much too dense for their own goods, "I think Marc was just happy you had asked and weren't messing with him."

That made Nathaniel frown a little bit; it always hurt to be reminded how low his friends (boyfriend's?) self-esteem was and how much of a nervous wreck Marc could be. Marc was too sweet and kind to deserve being burdened like that. If Nathaniel could do anything to help him believe in himself, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Anything for him. God, he was sappy tonight, "He shouldn't be happy with just that, but... yeah you're right." Nathaniel considered his phone, looking up at Alix, "Think I should message him?"

Alix rolled her eyes but grinned and nodded.

Nathaniel's fingers hadn't moved faster.

"I just, I was so awkward and terrible, I don't think he could've actually enjoyed himself- ah I'm going to need to move schools. Maybe if I'm not around for a while he'll forget how badly the date went-!" Marc stammered on, pulling his scarf and bright hoodie off as Marinette sighed and gave him an indulgent smile. The black-haired boy could pretty easily stir himself up into a nervous whirlwind when he got into it.

"Marc, I'm sure you're just overreacting. Did he seem like he was having fun?" She prodded him as she sat cross-legged on the futon in his room as he flung himself onto his bed, trying to calm his breath. Marinette watched him closely and practically burst out into giggles at the flush that arose under the boy's make-up. He really was just too predictable and cute. Marc for his part had gotten distracted by a stray thought of Nathaniel's smile, slipped to him as they walked under the lights of the city, squeezing through the tourists who hung around the city. Had Nathaniel had fun? That smile certainly made it seem like the world was brighter and that everything was okay- but no, that was his own brain trying to tell him that everything was fine. He'd probably screwed everything up again.

Marinette sighed and leaned forward, "C'mon Marc- you seemed so confident once we had your outfit picked out and what would work best for tonight. What happened to all that once you left for the date?" She asked softly. The black-haired boy sat up shyly.

"I... I know Marinette, I tried but... Its Nath, you know? Just looking at him when he gives me those smiles of his, I melt, just, just straight to the ground, you know? How am I supposed to be confident when that happens?" Marc babbled, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeves, jittery and unsure. Marinette was happy she had stuck around just to make sure Marc was good after the date was over. She knew it had taken a lot of Nathaniel to ask, and just as much for Marc to say yes.

"Well maybe you don't need to be confident, but... just, like tonight, just be yourself?" Marinette suggested, causing Marc to give her a look that made her giggle a bit. She knew that look all too well from having given it to Marc when he gave her advice about Adrien, "Okay, maybe that sounds a bit cliche, but didn't Nathaniel ask you out? Why would he have done that if he expected something besides the friend that he cares about?"

Marc seemed to be thinking of any rebuttal to that comment when his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Nathaniel's face to show he'd sent a text. He froze, staring at the screen terrified.

Marinette chuckled, breaking his paralysis and making Marc stare at her with panic as if screaming 'should I answer it'. She nodded to him, a small smile on her lips.

Marc's fingers had never moved faster.

-[Nathaniel]: Hey Marc, I hoped you enjoyed the date tonight. I'm sorry if I made you feel awkward.

-[Marc]: It's fine Nath! You were amazing tonight!

-[Marc]: Not that you ever aren't!

-[Marc]: I'm just sorry I was such an awkward and nervous mess >~<

-[Nathaniel]: Hey, it's alright Marc; you weren't the only person who was nervous tonight.

-[Nathaniel]: But, I would love to do this again. Would something next week work?

-[Marc]: Really? You would?

-[Marc]: Of course!

-[Marc]: Next week sounds great!

-[Marc]: Um, would getting lunch at this nice cafe I know work for you?

-[Marc]: Just, relaxing and hanging out?

-[Nathaniel]: That sounds perfect actually. What cafe did you have in mind?

-[Alix]: Did you suggest the cafe?

-[Marinette]: Of course! Marc looked like he was about to explode! How's Nathaniel?

-[Alix]: Doubting himself, but I sorted that out. Can't have all the effort it took to make this happen to go to waste.

-[Marinette]: Yep! Can't let Operation Boyfriends fail! Those two are too cute together!

-[Alix]: And both dense as bricks; good thing they have us here to help give them the little push they needed.

#nathmarcnovember #my writing #miraculous ladybug #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #alix kubdel #marinette dupain-cheng #my fic

[dat-town]

Destined to fall | scene iv.

Characters: Taehyung & You

Setting: fallen angel au, reincarnation au, historical au

Genre: angst

Warnings: attempted suicide, character death

Summary: Your love story is a tragedy written with blood throughout the centuries.

Words: 4.7k

Chapter index

SCENE IV. GARDEN OF EDEN London, Victorian era

Taehyung had long accepted that God indeed wanted to teach him something. Manners? Respect? Or how to be a good man? He never knew nor cared. He had been living his boring life sitting on a throne of guilt and regret, commanding to an army of powerful soldiers but he despised his own influence. What was it good for if he couldn’t save you? If he had to watch you wither away in every single life you had? He swore he wouldn’t torture you – but also himself - anymore, because after dozen failed attempts of breaking into heaven, bribing his way through its entrance, he realized he couldn’t face the Almighty just because he wanted to. He couldn't question him how long his punishment would last and how much more you would have to suffer. He didn’t give up but focused more on ruling his kingdom than battling in a war he couldn’t possible win against a faceless god.

“You never asked me to join you. Why?” Seokjin asked, the one creature in this wide world whom he considered the closest thing to a friend he knew and had.

The angel visited him from time to time, on neutral grounds in hazy times. His snow white suit made him outstanding in the grey crowd and his fluttering white wings only Taehyung could see, rested close to his back. The fluffy, soft feathers stirred a pang of jealousy even in Devil because he had missed his wings as black as his soul, but the fractured bones couldn’t sprout again leaving him with two identical scars on his back that ached constantly like a never-ending dull music in the background, constant reminders of what he was and what was taken away from him because of his rebellion.

“I have enough demons,” he shrugged thinking back of those prideful angels falling one by one and searching for a new, more liberal reign under his hands. They listened well, that was something God taught them well but saying no was now in their blood and the only thing that kept them in order was fear. They feared Taehyung, at least since one of them tried to snatch the throne from him and ended up on Hell’s torture table. “Everybody needs something to fall for. You have to decide it for yourself. That's the beauty of free will.”

Each of them, angels and humans made choices and carved their own fate. Even if it wasn’t a conscious decision that time, he didn’t regret falling for you. Loving you was the best thing that happened to him no matter how short-lived it was. He never knew when you would be taken away from him, so he liked to spend and cherish every possible moment with you but not in the possessive way he once did, he swore on that.

“What He gave us as a gift,” Seokjin reminded him kindly and it was something Taehyung couldn’t deny. God really gave them the right to choose.

“Yes and it may be his fatal mistake,” he nodded looking down at the mass of people below the building. Clueless, dense people running around in the haziness of life, sacrificing themselves in the process, losing their purpose setting a mindless treadwheel ahead of them. Angels, humans, all the same: their existence lost its meaning when there was nothing more to live for.

Decades passed in silence, Taehyung drifted with the flow. He laughed when people pointed at machines calling them devilish and inhumane, although it was only the evolution of their race. With the industrial revolution, came the new danger of getting caught because of his forever young looks if he stayed in one place for too long. But Taehyung was really good at fleeing and staying in the shadows if it was necessary, he changed his identity as often as those rich girls throw out their clothes.

A few years after Queen Victoria occupied the throne of England he settled down in the British capital as a foreign artist. In this life he was a painter called Vante, one who lived for art, beauty and self-fulfilment. He enjoyed 5pm tea afternoons, chatting with other artists in downtown pubs and drawing people. He took up art during his first years of loneliness as a way of coping and till this day, he couldn’t get rid of this urge of creating. It was in his nature despite the Devil was said to be able to destroy only. His talent wasn’t recognized until this century when it became popular among the wealthiest families to order portrays. Still, he didn’t do it for the easy money. He didn’t even need that since he had no desire for such human things. He took these jobs out of boredom and curiosity, for the sake of art.

He lived a lowkey life in which he had no intention of searching for you. He gave up on that in order to provide you with a normal life, finally, without bloodshed and pain and suffering. He didn’t care about the constant longing in his heart, the stinking pang in his chest, the thorn of his never-ending love that bled from inside. He told himself he didn’t deserve you and you would be better off without him anyway but jokes on him, fate had brought you together once again.

He should have said no when he was called into another rich British household. He should have because his cold heart just skipped the beat knowing you would be there waiting for him. But he couldn’t, oh how could he? You were the gravity he fell for, he stood no chance.

“Pleasure to have you here, Mr. Vante. We are all admirers of your works,” a man his age greeted the painter and he nodded in acknowledgement, a lump of anticipation choking him.

“Especially our dear daughter. She was the one who chatted our ears off about your works until we hired you,” the head of the family chimed in.

“But papa…” you protested with your cheeks dusted pink and cast your careful gaze down.

“It’s an honour that my questionable talent is recognized by you, Miss,” Taehyung bowed again with a smile playing on his lips because of your adorable shyness.

The fashion in this era made women wear gloves and high-collared dresses that covered as much skin as it could, so when you were introduced, it didn't matter that he took your hand to give it a kiss, the thin silk stopped you from remembering. Maybe it was better this way because on your fourth finger, over the glove you proudly wore a diamond engagement ring labelling you as another man’s fiancée...

Taehyung didn’t cry, nor did he throw a fit. He took defeat like a man with his chin high up. He loved you so much that he wanted nothing else for you but happiness. However, he wasn’t selfless, he wasn’t that kind of person. He thought it was unfair that God decided another man could have you right in front of his eyes. Yet, he knew better than to blame Him, it was better to think of it as a challenge, a test to see if you really loved him as you claimed in your earlier lives or it was merely your sense of duty all along after you remembered your time together. What if you regretted loving him after so many awful deaths? Didn’t you deserve a peaceful life?

He should have left, go far away but he couldn’t stay away. As Vante the artist, he had bi-weekly visits at your family’s mansion working on you and your future husband’s portray. It was for your wedding, you said once with a forced smile when the strict man you were engaged to stood beside you rigid in his pose, with a hand over your shoulders.

Since after spending decades without you, Taehyung only had two methods of passing time: killing and his newest hobby, art, he was pretty good at both. He loved to get lost in details, absorbing each tiny miniscule piece of reality into a painting. He was a precise artist but he kept making mistakes when it was about you. Sometimes the yous got mixed in his head, different faces but the same sparkling in the eyes and the same loving heart. Even though you had ginger curls brushed under a laced hat and eyes blue like hyacinths, he knew it was you, he could feel it like every other time. And it distracted him, remembering your times together while you had no recollection of it at all. Maybe that’s why your fiancé got bored of these painting sessions, the mistakes and he came by less and less often.

Sometimes you read a book in your lap giving the fallen angel the opportunity to stare as much as he wanted. Sometimes you asked him questions of Paris, the city he supposedly came from. Sometimes like now your gaze was fierce, your posture tense as you were sipping on a tea. Taehyung couldn’t help but wonder. Did you have an argument with your parents? With your fiancé perhaps? Is it about the wedding that fabricated arranged marriage he knew you never wanted? Or did you?

“Is everything alright?” he asked as a tentative approach and you pursued your lips shaking your head, fingers playing with each other.

“It’s nothing, just… complicated wedding preparations. George’s family is a little bit too enthusiastic and I…” you bit down on your tongue, hard, to stop yourself from saying more but you had already done the damage.

Taehyung’s gaze zoomed on your hand, your fourth finger in particular with that gorgeous diamond ring and he blurted out the most impolite question ever:

"Do you love him?"

A short pause. A hiss in the silence and you looked at him coldly, answering a bit belatedly. Too late to not be written off as hesitation.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't marry him otherwise," you scrunched your nose slightly offended.

It was a lie and you both knew.

Your fiancé was a busy man, he barely made time for painting sessions since he had more important things to do than standing there watching an artist work. So most times the two of you were alone in the study room of your family's impressive house. Vante with a brush between his fingers, you sitting on a sofa, your midnight blue dress falling to your legs in airy waves. Small talks came natural to you but anything else felt too intimate to share with a stranger, another man who wasn’t supposed to captivate you like the artist did.

There was something in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his muse that made you blush and uncharacteristically shy. Especially now when you had his intense gaze at you after such a blunt confession that shouldn't have happened. You wanted to change the topic immediately.

"The girls on your paintings..." The words stumbled out of your mouth slowly, without your consent but Vante didn’t stop you, he didn’t interrupt, so you kept the eye contact and asked it anyway before curiosity could have eaten you up: "Do you know them all?"

Ever since you fell in love with this mysterious artist’s paintings at an exhibition downtown, it intrigued you. There was only a handful of portrays he didn’t do for money and all of them had young, pretty women on them. They all looked like they were in love, eyes shining, mouth curved up in a mysterious smile but somehow there was also sadness in those orbs.

"Yes, I once knew them."

"They are beautiful,” you nodded as a slight pang of jealousy poisoned the blood in your veins. Ridiculous! You had a fiancé and yet you were jealous of past muses, perhaps-lovers of an artist you barely knew.

"So are you," he said easily like it was nothing, merely a fact like the Sun rising on the East. Given your family status, you weren’t used to genuine compliments. Still, it had you blush.

"Oh please, you only say that sir because my family pays your bills."

"I don't need your family’s money," the man answered very seriously, lightning in his eyes as he looked at you. There was it again, that something in his gaze that made you feel as if he was reading you like an open book.

You wanted to ask what he needed then but you didn’t dare and you lost your chance to say anything at all when the door opened and you mother busted in calling you into the salon for dress rehearsal. Excusing yourself early had never felt so wrong.

You fell in love slowly but too easily for a woman with an engagement ring on her finger. Meeting Vante brought those smiles and fluttery feelings you associated with love and it scared you. Being the only daughter of a newspaper firm’s owner gave you many benefits: piano and dance lessons, the prettiest dresses, treated like a princess among your acquaintances but for all that you owned your father something in exchange: to marry the man he chose, the man who would continue to build his empire and make it famous. George was a good man, he had always acted polite towards you and it was more than a lot of fiancées could tell about themselves. You got lucky but it wasn’t enough for you to love him and you couldn’t help but be doubtful about your future marriage.

When the painter appeared in your life he made you feel he was there all along. Like you came home to him… like he was home. Impossible, right? You had just met him! But he was so different from everybody you had the pleasure to meet: the way he asked about your days, complimented the way you dressed, dared to disagree with you on meanings of certain poems and discussed politics with you, a topic from everybody hushed women away. He was interested in every aspect of your life, in your opinion about everything and maybe it flattered you enough to say yes to his bold question.

“Will you walk with me?

Asking an engaged lady for a walk alone was just as immoral as agreeing to the said offer. But after weeks of tiptoeing around each other, stolen glances between four walls and whispered conversations, you felt your heart swelling with this exciting new feeling that filled your insides until you feared you would burst.

“I finished the painting,” Vante said quietly just as you passed by the fountain in the middle of Hyde Park. His voice carried a spoonful of bitter sadness and your throat closed up nervously. The pleas that were choking you lately came alive again scratching at the back of your throat.

“Does that mean I won’t see you anymore?” your made a clumsy attempt of masking your disappointment but you failed badly when sadness clearly stained your voice.

“Would you miss me?” the painter stopped in his tracks and looked at you bewildered. That foolish hope in his eyes made you reckless too. Now or never, you thought playing with the ruffles of your beautiful dress.

“I… I know it’s wrong in its every bit but… I can’t control my heart and I am terribly sorry, that I put you into such a bothersome situation,” you blurted out without thinking, letting the urge to speak your mind have control. You would never want to burden him with your company since you knew he was such a busy person, yet you hoped he wouldn't say goodbye forever.

“What do you mean, Miss?”

What do you mean? Such a great question. You have no idea what to wish for, what to hope with that diamond ring on your finger. Would you really leave your comfortable and stable life behind just to be with him and turn childish dreams of true love into reality? You had no idea but you wanted to get rid of the weight of this heavy confession that had suffocated you for weeks. You couldn't let him go until he didn’t know how you felt.

“I… I am a disgrace to my family," you stuttered and since you didn't bear to look into Vante's black tea eyes, you rather marvelled at the way the sunshine hit on his beret in the rainy afternoon weather. “An engaged girl who caught feelings for an artist. A shame, they would call it but yes, it’s true. I have feelings for you.”

The man looked a bit shaken, the lazy curve of his mouth trembling as he asked: “Are you sure?”

“Yes… But please do not feel obligated to reciprocate anything. You are free to reject my indecent confession. It’s absolutely not fair on you, I know,” you were quick to answer and reassure him that no matter his answer, you wouldn't hold anything against him.

“How could I ever reject you?” It's a rhetorical question because he didn't need to ask twice to know he had you for a while now. “I have loved you in every life you had and I will love you in every following one. I love you more than anything.”

“It’s blasphemous to say such things,” you gasped.

As a Catholic you were taught that God was supposed to be the one you love the most. But it didn’t stop your heart from feeling things it shouldn't, like happiness for being loved back by a man who wasn’t your fiancé.

“What now...?” you whispered and your touch was so light he barely felt it: your bare fingertips brushing against his knuckles.

Realization only hit him when he locked eyes with you and saw that look. The look of those who had lived long enough to know what pain feels like. Your eyes were suddenly swimming in tears, rosy lips trembling. Hastily, you pulled your hand back so you could clench onto your chest with your panicked gaze turned away. Contrary to before, any other times when you remembered, now you had your responsibilities, a promise you made to a man who wasn’t Vante, who wasn’t Taehyung, your fallen angel you had never stopped loving.

“How many did you kill?”

The sudden question birthed silence. Taehyung took a deep breath.

“Thousands.”

It was the truth. There was no point in denying it.

You had loved him before. Fiercely even though you knew he was a killer. You had loved him before despite status and sins and how much of a monster he was. But now, now you stood up and turned your back on him ready to leave.

Taehyung didn’t think or calculate odds, he grabbed on your hand halting you, in need of answers and explanations.

“Love...” he called you desperately clinging onto your non-gloved fingers searching for your eyes, those traitors but you avoided his gaze at any cost.

“Please no...” you hissed at the pet name and flinched like he burnt you.

“But you said yourself… You fell in love with me even if you didn’t remember our pasts. What changed?”

You did, he was right. You fell in love with the painter just like you had fallen in love with the rich merchant, the royal advisor and the second-in-command. You had fallen deep and deeper you got with each day. It was a well too deep for you to get out, an ocean too vast to struggle to swim to the surface, because not loving him didn’t seem like an option. You were meant to be, like you were made to be the yin to his yang and for that reason you never felt whole until you met him.

“I can’t do this,” you kept shaking your head because it was too much, too painful. All the memories, the pain you endured and the unfortunate fates you had.

“Do what? Why?” The fallen leaned closer and gently cupped your face wiping away the tears you shed. They couldn’t help but fall.

“I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much,” you cried grabbing at the fabric of your dress implying to the place in your chest where your heart burnt, ached. “Maybe it’s really a punishment. For you and for me for all the sins I have done and for the ones I will commit. Maybe we both deserve it: to love until it hurts, until our heart bleeds. Maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

“You don’t mean that. You can’t,” Taehyung begged, his heart breaking into tiny pieces. If you couldn’t be his, he was happy with you being his muse and nothing more but knowing you loved him and remembered him, it was unthinkable for him.

“I’m sorry,” you barely managed to force the words out because you were sobbing so hard. There were knives at your throat and poisoned arrows piercing right through your heart. It was a torture to look him in the eye, yet you still killed yourself slowly. “Please… Just let me be. Leave me alone.”

The words burnt like you slapped him, hard, across his face, it left an uncomfortable tingling and a wound deeper than the scars on his back where once his wings were. He thought he knew what pain and suffering meant, to drown while everybody was watching but this, this was worse than all punishments of Hell.

Quite a few demons had tried to kill Taehyung over the time. Rebellions against his rule weren’t rare but he was too powerful to die because of these weak attempts. However, he never tried to end his own life and standing on the edge of the hundred years old Westminster Bridge he wondered if God had let him die if he wanted to. He was finally ready to test the theory.

It had been almost two weeks since you left him behind in Hyde Park. He respected your demand and stayed away but today, he couldn’t. Even if he could only watch you from afar, he had to come here mixing into the crowd of guests of London’s elites. He saw you getting off a flowery, white horse carriage in front of the Cathedral and you looked so beautiful, so gorgeous in your snow white dress, the pearls around your neck and white petals in your hair. You looked like the princess you deserved to be and in your earlier lives, he would have given everything to make this possible. It was worth living just to see you like this, Taehyung concluded, but his heart ached so bad imagining you by another man’s side. Smiling at him, kissing him, making love to him. He couldn’t handle that, he just couldn’t bear that thought.

Dying because of a human girl, such a pity, others would have said, would have called him weak. He had everything after all: wealth, a handsome face, immortality and an empire to rule. But what did all this mean if he had nobody to share with? If he was all alone?

He took a step closer to the edge. Nobody cared. London rushed through around him as the busy commercial market it was and the Cathedral’s bells sounded magical as its clock hit seven o’clock. It was long overdue, to say goodbye. He should have died a long time ago anyway...

“Taehyung…” your lovely voice echoed in the dark, coming from afar and the once angel laughed sarcastically. He had hallucinated already, great. God must have found it appropriate to torture him till the end.

“Taehyung!” the sound of his name resonated louder this time, closer, not so dulled by the waves of Thames and the more he tried to ignore the chanting the more pragmatic, more frantic it became. He felt the pull on his coat as somebody yanked him backwards. At first, he suspected the always so nosy Seokjin, the angel who acted like his guardian but when he turned around he saw a different kind of celestial being. You.

You panted, holding your skirt with one hand, hair a mess, eyes frightened. It seemed too good to be true. Maybe he really was dreaming. Or dead already.

“You ran away? From the church? Why?” he deadpanned and raised his hand eye-level, uncertain whether he was allowed to touch.

“Because I realized I can't let God bind me to someone I don't love,” you said loud and clear taking his hand in yours and leaning into his touch. Oh, gods, you had missed this so much.

“But what if you were? What if once I will be too late? And you will love them?” Taehyung asked, still perplexed, holding you like he once did, like you were something fragile or simply a dream that can dissolve into nothing if he let down his guards.

“That won't happen. Because I'll always love you more,” you protested shaking your head that had your ginger curls fall into your face, framing your ocean blue eyes. You didn’t hesitate, you pushed yourself up to your toes and kissed the love of your life and your entire existence like you meant it because you really did. For a moment, he stilled, still processing what just happened but then he kissed you back deeply with all the desperation in his heart. The barrier made of stone dug into your back ruining your pure white dress but you couldn’t care less. Even the indignant shouting of your relatives coming from the Cathedral seemed dull.

“Let’s get married. Not in a church, of course. But let’s make a promise. I want to be with you forever,” you whispered pulling away and little did you know, your wish would come true this time around.

Taehyung had long stopped believing in Mercy but you were religious in this life and you had a different view on current event. You thought this wasn’t about God taking you away from your love but keep giving you back to him. You still prayed for his soul every day. Taehyung claimed it was naive and useless but it kept you alive. For the first time in forever you had things like wrinkle to worry about and you whined about being too old for a twenty something looking guy despite him being immortal and thousand years old. Miraculously you grew old with Taehyung and a bunch of dogs by your side. You weren’t ready to have kids after what happened last time and now you were happy with what you had. It was nice, growing old and experiencing things you couldn’t before. Taehyung showed you the wonders of the world, you travelled a lot and you loved deeply. You celebrated every anniversary like it was the first and appreciated each moment like it could be the last. You spent together decade after decade arguing more and more over the time because you thought he should move on, leaving you alone to grow old but he wasn’t willing. Never, when his soul was older than a millennium and he loved you even with your hair grey and winkles.

Even a heart attack couldn’t take you away but it landed you in a health care centre. Whenever you heard nurses talking about your handsome “grandson”, you chuckled. You weren’t jealous, not anymore because you wanted Taehyung to be happy more than anything. And lately, you had seen sadness in those mesmerizing eyes of his as if he was preparing himself to say goodbye.

“Why don’t you go find another love? You have plenty of time and there are so many people out there. You shouldn’t wait for me,” you told him who sat on the edge of your bed dutifully, not leaving your side if he didn’t have to. He signalled no with his head. At first, you thought he was about to scold you for talking about your own death again because he hated to hear about the inevitable.

“For me, there’s nobody else but you,” he replied and squeezed your hand like he never wanted to let go.

With your wrinkled hands in his forever young ones, death took you away in your sleep but this time, you left with no regrets and Taehyung cried because he had nobody to blame but himself.

Next chapter

#angstykpopnet #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #bts writing squad #stories #series: destined to fall #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung scenarios #bts v angst #fallen angel au #reincarnation au

[luwucas04]

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

Personally, every day I grow more and more disappointed with the masses of humanity and people with a large portion of power within society. More than ever it’s become so prominent just how people putting financial gain ahead of the well-being of others during the current global crisis we are currently living through is so utterly, disgustingly evil. I’ve noticed that how the world runs and the lack of attention to grave issues regarding the prosperity of nature and humans in general is very unfortunately dominated by billionaires and other capitalists, all with disgustingly little regard for any decency pertaining to morality or the greater good. If they can’t gain from it, they simply don’t care. They are more concerned about their economic status, gain, and the economy itself than the things that have real value when it comes to the betterment of our Earth and its people.

To be specific, right off the bat we have Jeff Bezos. He is THE richest man on the planet. The average person spending one measly dollar is equivalent to Jeff Bezos spending 1.2 million dollars. Adding to this, he roughly makes well over $2,000 every second. He is 36% richer than the entire British Monarchy (or than at least what we know the British Monarchy has). And what does he do with this tremendous amount of wealth? The absolute bare minimum. The only thing he himself has recently done was contribute a small donation of $100 million toward US food banks. Of course, any donation counts, but in this man’s case that’s just like a regular person donating less than 90 dollars: easy and not impressive considering just how wealthy he really is. What’s more, amidst the vast struggling within anyone below upper-class, him along with countless other selfish men are profiting from this. Just within the last couple MONTHS Jeff Bezos has gained 24 billion dollars. Yet, funding issues still remain, healthcare is overflowing, and the working class is suffering. And guess what! Just a few days ago he was announced to be well on his way to becoming the world’s first ever TRILLIONAIRE. I don’t know about you, but trillionaires should absolutely not exist on this planet whatsoever. There are too many injustices to be able to hoard that much money for yourself.

Rich people and even governments are fighting to reopen businesses and the conventional running of day-to-day life solely for the sake of ‘saving the economy’ and their profits. They don’t care about the well-being and safety of others. Minorities and the most vulnerable within society aren’t profitable to them, therefore they don’t exist as something that requires their attention or consideration. They have the privilege to do such incredible things with the wealth they have acquired—but they don’t. They stand by inhumane working conditions within their own companies. They silently watch people struggle and die within the situations they help to ensure. They choose to use their positions of power to prey on and assault others and get away with it. These figures of ‘authority’ do all they can to make it look like workers are being brave for stepping up during these times but do absolutely nothing to ease their material conditions. Oh, wait, the minimum wage was just upped by four whole dollars. That’s definitely going to help protect them from the novel coronavirus and put more food on the table, that’s so kind of them for their generous consideration.

Sorry for the heavy tangent on capitalism, but as of late rich people have been exceedingly getting on my nerves in ways I genuinely cannot describe.

However that aside, I’ve ALSO noticed changes in how humanity tries to bring itself together in a way! In my case, a lot of the bands I like have been providing (pre-recorded from past performances) concerts available to livestream on YouTube and various other insider-personal takes on their music. Those have been really fun; it’s usually on designated Thursdays and Fridays and I have to be awake for 10 am when a concert starts, we (me by myself) go to town for like 3 hours, then I go downstairs to have lunch. Or, a few weeks ago this other group had a 3-day-long (again, pre-recorded) livestream (that started at 11 pm this time) and I ended up staying up till around 3 am with my friend. I had a light stick from when I actually went to their concert in 2018, I was able to sync it up through their app and it probably looked like a low-key rave was going on from the cars passing by. Very good times.

From a non-personal standpoint, I recall seeing videos of people on their balconies in Italy coming out and singing and playing instruments together as a neighbourhood. That was very nice to see, but it’s also worth keeping in mind that is one of the best-case scenario situations and those people were lucky enough to indulge in something like that so nonchalantly. Not to say enjoying yourself isn’t allowed, but it should be acknowledged that just looking at lockdown like that is romanticizing the whole of what’s really going on, as it’s not that glamourous for everybody.

It’s been interesting seeing how people interact with others during their adjusted daily lives, too. I’ll go on walks sometimes and me and my friends will take turns sitting at the end of each other’s driveways and ‘hang out’ like we (well not really) would before. Adding on to human interaction, I’ve seen videos of people handing out packages of things like masks and hand sanitizer to people on the street, or leaving things out for delivery people, quite thoughtful, and maybe one could say even creative, things.

Living the life as you can see (I’m sitting on the grass)

Overall, when all is said and done, in my opinion, I think everything would be much better if the people who are in charge and dictate things A) weren’t painstakingly dense and simple minded—Angela Merkel and her policies would be a great example for countries like England and the US to take notes from; B) genuinely cared about their citizens and not just money and themselves; and C) properly absorbed science and legitimate medical advice and guidelines. Sadly, a lot of people, as you may be able to have tell, are very easily influenced and follow quite blindly *cough* ingesting cleaning products *cough*. But, fortunately that’s only a small portion of the population.

Conversely, this also goes to show other like-minded regular people, in a better light, become closer and stand in solidarity for what they know is best for them and the well-beings of others. Because the majority of us are all in the exact same situation doing the exact same thing, I feel like we can gain a better understanding and deeper familiarity with those around us. And this is really specific, but I think it’s cool how we now get to see some ‘famous people’ (right off the top of my head Doja Cat, Bernie Sanders and Taylor Swift are some examples) just livestreaming or posting themselves existing in their homes and generally having a good time. You wouldn’t get to see that part of their lives too much before. I think I’ve mentioned them over 50,000 times on this blog already, but the other day the band One Ok Rock (whose song I did on the guitar) released an upload of them recreating one of their old music videos while all the members are individually self-isolating.

(Joke explained, the original title of the song is 「完全感覚Dreamer」 (Kanzen Kankaku Dreamer), but they changed it to「完全在宅Dreamer」 (Kanzen Zaitaku Dreamer); the original kankaku means ‘feeling’ or ‘intuition’, and the new zaitaku means ‘staying at home’.)

Above all, it’s difficult to decide whether this has either brought out the best or worst of humanity. I think it’s really subjective to your status and mindset that you had in the first place and what you were dealing with before all this. Adding onto that, we know how the news likes to focus on the negative the most. There are good people in this world, and grouping them together with those who think haircuts are a human right and aggressively protesting in large crowds is a good idea isn’t really fair to them.

As for myself, I haven’t noticed anything prominent come out of myself. The best I can do and what I’ve been doing right now is just following official medical guidelines, keeping distance and not go into super crowded areas, and simply wait for what happens next while staying informed. Nothing outstanding.

Here’s someone’s hot take on the subject matter as well, as much as this is 100% valid I strongly believe it’s worth acknowledging even the smallest good things happening from this too.

[yandereshit]

vampire!Vanderwood x Reader: so naive.

Vanderweek: Day 2 [02/07/2017] Theme: Alternates Subthemes: Vanderwood route, AU Warnings: alcohol/drugs mention/use

Vanderweek is organized by @vanderweek. Bless them!

˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

„Hey, aren’t you going to help me…?” Seven whined, glancing at all his work.

“You’ve been doing literally nothing for the past few days. A few hours of working alone won’t kill you.”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I was procrastinating.”

Vanderwood’s eyes glistened dangerously and the boy laughed sheepishly, getting to his work in an instant.

As long as he was at least a bit useful, Vanderwood didn’t consider punishing him for his actions.

But the boy was fully aware that the threat was real and – if anything happened – his associate wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Where are you even going?”

“…Dinner.”

Seven glanced at him, unwillingly shivering at the word itself, as if its hidden meaning was engraved deep in his subconsciousness.

“Be careful” he said rather quietly, but the door already closed behind the man.

It was a windy Friday evening. The sky was covered with dark clouds, the smell of upcoming rain was already hovering in the air.

The first few drops of water fell onto the ground and he entered a club located by the main street. No one even noticed as he walked into the hall and leaned against the wall for a few seconds, having a quick glance at the people inside.

Drunkards. Less drunk, covered with sweat dancers. Women and girls keeping together no matter what. Some men trying to talk to them. A few kids who surely shouldn’t have been let in.

People by the bar were usually the easiest targets. It was obvious whether they’re alone or not. They were usually drunk, so it was not a big deal to make them follow him. He’d usually talk to them a bit to find out whether they’d go with him or not. He would never pry. He would never take them against their will.

But he never denied the fact that he was the only one responsible for what happened to them later.

There was a woman sitting by the bar. She was definitely drunk.

…But he doubted she’d be able to even stand up on her own, let alone go anywhere with him.

A young boy was sitting a few seats later.

But he could see a small plastic bag sticking out from his pocket. Way too irresponsibly. He didn’t want to have to deal with druggies. Their blood smelt of rot.

By the end of the long counter though, there was a girl sitting. She didn’t look too drunk, but she was alone and her eyes glistened with slight fear.

It made him a bit interested and he creeped closer, sitting on the bar chair next to her.

The girl glanced at him, but he didn’t look back, ordering something alcohol-free. She tilted her head to the side, but didn’t say anything.

She smelt nice. Of some herbals, only slightly mixed with alcohol.

But she wasn’t drunk. The alcohol was on her shirt. It already dried off, but the substance was still hovering in it. Someone must have spilled a drink onto her.

He rested his chin on his hand, sighing tiredly.

“Are you okay, sir?”

He looked at her. There was concern in her eyes.

“Why asking?”

“You look really pale…”

…I wonder, why.

“It was a long day” he admitted, smiling slightly.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself” she said. “And I think you should rather go home and take a nap instead of coming to a place like this. It’s very loud. You’ll get a headache.”

“…”

He didn’t expect her being genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

“And you? Are you okay?” he asked, observing her closely. A single bond of sweat ran down her throat and he had to remind himself not to lick over his lips, as he instinctively wanted to. Her heart skipped a bit and he couldn’t help but wheeze soundlessly in satisfaction. The sound was nice in his ears. His senses were so sharp right now, yet the music didn’t distract him. He was fully focused on her.

“I-I’m fine, I guess… But also tired.”

“Long day?”

“…I wouldn’t say. More like, a few bad moments.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” he stated calmly, chugging down his drink.

She mumbled quietly, resting her elbows on the counter.

“My boyfriend was drunk and he couldn’t… well, control himself. But it’s fine now, I guess.”

“Is it?”

“I bluntly told him to fuck off. Like, forever.”

“So it is.”

“But I’m alone here now and too scared to go back home on my own.”

“…Not that fine anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” She sobbed dramatically, but quickly smiled, as if it didn’t matter anymore. “I’ll just wait till the morning.”

“Is it safe though?” He tilted his head to the side, showing concern. “There may be a lot of people you… probably wouldn’t want to meet. It’s evening yet, but it’ll get worse after midnight…”

Was he actually concerned? Maybe a bit. Acting like a nice and caring person was unnatural. But necessary to gain her trust.

She frowned and sighed.

“I’m aware. But I can’t do anything with that.”

“You can buy a drink.”

“…It’s probably the best advice for now.”

She smiled and he smiled back. The bartender was just passing by, so she caught his sleeve. And asked for vodka.

Vodka.

As for someone who looked like they don’t drink often… he was sure that three strong shots will be enough to make her go with him without a hesitation.

That would be all in the case of “not forcing anyone”. He indeed wasn’t forcing anyone. He just waited for them to be unable to resist.

“…I shouldn’t drink” she admitted suddenly, right after finishing two shots at once.

“Are you underage?”

“…Do I look like one?”

“It’s a bit too dark here to judge.”

“Right… No, I’m… technically an adult.” Her voice broke down and it took her a good few minutes to retreat. “Technically… I can’t even cook a damn dinner… I broke a toaster lately, like, it suddenly started to smoke… I only tried to make a damn breakfast…” Her eyes glistened with tears.

IT’S BEEN ONLY TWO SHOTS OF VODKA.

“There, there” he said, patting her shoulder, a bit unsure what else could he do now. But it was good. He could get closer to her like this. She didn’t oppose.

“A-and… I plugged it off but… it was too late, I had to use the estinshiguer…”

“You mean, extinguisher…?”

“ESTINSHIGUER…”

“Okay…”

HOW DID SHE EVEN SET A TOASTER ON FIRE.

“And the toasts were ruined…” Her voice broke down again. “I couldn’t eat them… And those were the last slices of bread… Can you understand it…? I’ve been so hungry… And exhausted… I wanted to die…!” She sobbed quietly and looked up at the bartender who was anything but interested in her talking. “…Can I…?” she slid the glasses towards him.

The bartender indifferently filled them up again.

Vanderwood groaned as she chugged them both down right away.

“But I don’t even like toasts that much… You know, it’s only bread, a burned bread… And bread, you know… it’s not too complicated… Have you ever baked a bread?”

“Yeah, I cook pretty often…”

She gasped.

“Like a… a magician…!” She swayed a bit and almost fell from the chair. He held her tightly in place.

“…”

She suddenly sobbed again.

“Hug me…” she mumbled, wrapping arms around him and nuzzling head in his chest.

Never in his life had he felt so awkward.

Never in his life has he met someone who would be as drunk as a skunk after four shots! He wanted her to be only a bit torpid…

…But he forced himself to stay still.

Even when her hair tickled his nose, along with the sweet scent of her body. He could hear her breath against his neck. It was pleasantly warm. Her heartbeat was calm now, the blood flowing through her veins – even hotter than before.

It took her a moment to retreat and pull away.

“…I can’t even… cook a dinner…” she mumbled childishly and he stroked her chin with his gloved hand in a calming, affectionate motion she seemed to like right away.

“It’s nothing bad. Really” he said, looking deep into her eyes. They were a bit red from crying and unfocused. She was already drunk enough for the things around her to blur.

“…I need another shot” she decided, shuffling towards the bartender.

“No. You’re not drinking anymore” he stated with slight annoyance. “You’re going home.”

“Make me” she dared, reaching towards the bottle of alcohol standing behind the bar.

He grasped her wrist.

“NO.”

Her face twisted in sadness.

“There, there… I’ll take you home” he said, wrapping arm around her waist and helping her up. The girl stumbled, but his grip was firm enough to help her steady.

He paid for her shots and leaded her to the exit. The bartender glanced at them briefly, but quickly returned to his own business.

The rain was heavy at this point. The rustling of trees being played with by the strong wind, the dense drops of water hitting against the streets, making a soft fog raise low above them. The street lights brightened everything around, but the buildings seemed as if they were empty.

The weather was their only observer.

Vanderwood took off his coat and wrapped it around the girl’s form. She was shivering from the cold. After a few minutes, they were both soaking wet.

“Where do you live?” he asked as they reached a small bus stop. They hid under the shed.

“…Far away…” she mumbled, closing eyes and leaning against him.

He could feel the alcohol slowly leaving her body, but she still stayed close.

So trustful.

So naive.

“Which bus?” he asked, glancing at the timetable glued to the wall of the shed.

“None.”

“How come?”

“My ex took me here by his car…” she whispered. She looked as if she could fall asleep like this.

He sighed.

“I’ll take you to my place” he decided and she didn’t oppose.

It was easy. Easier than he’d expect.

The small flat he rented for the time being was only a few hundred meters away. They passed through the widest street, then entered one of narrower ones. A thunder must have hit somewhere close, because the loud thud echoed around them along with the white light blinding them for a few seconds. The storm was getting worse.

He opened the door to the block and let her in. Then, into the lift. Silence surrounded them for a few seconds, before they went out of the lift and the thunder hit again.

“Aren’t you afraid of the lightnings?” she asked suddenly.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The next thunder, louder than before, made her jump in surprise.

“…You’re probably right.”

They entered the flat.

The thunderstorm could still be heard, but it was rather quiet here. With every thunder, all the glass would shake. But it was calm. Weak gleams of street lamps entered the space, lightening it a little.

“I’ll get you something to change into. Towels are in the drawer. Dry yourself” he said, pointing at the bathroom.

She only nodded sleepily, going inside without a word.

And he couldn’t help, but wonder.

Would she wake up tomorrow and sneeze because of the cold she caught? Complain about the stuffed nose and headache? Call her friends and say that she won’t visit them today because she’s sick? Spill hot tea onto her work?

Would she… ever wake up again after tonight?

He knocked to the door.

“I’m leaving the clothes on the floor. Put yours into the drier. Come to the kitchen when you’re done.”

He took off his own clothes, letting them soil his bedroom’s floor. He’d tidy it up later. His apparel was thicker so he wasn’t that wet. He changed into something else.

From the counter beside his bed, he took out a new pair of gloves and went into the kitchen.

The small fire on the stove contrasted with the darkness. He didn’t need any source of light to see everything well enough. He took out two cups and teabags. Sugar was always standing on the counter.

From the drawer, he took out a little bag with white powder inside and poured a bit less than half of it into one of the cups along with the water as it started to boil.

The floor creaked slightly as the girl went out of the bathroom and entered the kitchen, looking way better than before. Her hair was still a bit wet, but at least not as messy from the rain and wind as when he’s seen her previously. She probably used his own brush. His big shirt was sticking to her back, where she didn’t reach with the towel. Walking, she tripped over the hem of his sweatpants, way too big for her.

Adorably pathetic.

She sat on one of the chairs and mumbled something.

“Did you say something?” he asked, setting the cup of tea in front of her and leaning against the windowsill with his arms crossed.

“Thank you” she said, a bit louder. “You’re a really nice person…” she added, reaching the sugar.

He watched her for a moment, his face indifferent.

“You’re so gullible.”

She raised her head and smiled softly.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not stupid, if that’s what you think.”

“Aren’t you?”

She chuckled, raising the cup to her lips.

He watched.

“I just… don’t see the point of not trusting people.”

“What about your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice calm, but sincerely showing his curiosity.

“He… did a stupid thing. I can’t just forget it. But he’s not a bad person…”

“I see.”

“The tea is really good” she said with a smile, enjoying the taste.

He only nodded.

For a long moment, there was a soothing silence between the two of them. The thunderstorm went away, but the rain still pouring from the sky, rather quietly meeting with the ground.

“You shouldn’t do what strangers tell you to. You never know who you meet.”

“You’re probably right… But I just had that feeling.” She set the empty cup back on the table. “That you’re a good person.”

“…”

He looked away.

“Is that so.”

Her head must have spun, because she swayed on the chair, leaning against the table to keep steady. The drug must have started to kick in.

“…”

She slowly stood up.

“I’m a bit dizzy…” she admitted.

“I know” he responded quietly, not moving from his spot. His eyes must have shone with red, because she stared at them in awe for a few seconds, her own widening in shock.

That’s how the hunger showed itself like.

The fangs in his mouth stung, yearning to bite into the soft flesh.

His vision was focused on her, his mind filled with the imagination of her blood streaming down his throat.

His fingers dug into his shoulders, his body tense, his breathing – way faster than normally.

He pushed himself off the windowsill. In a second, he was hovering over her, his fangs bared and ready to bite in.

But she didn’t even blink, staring at him bluntly. Her own eyes gleamed with curiosity as she reached up to bravely touch his pale face.

But he didn’t let her, wrapping fingers around her wrist before she managed to. She flinched at the movement and he loosened the grip.

She looked so calm, yet her heart was racing. The smell of her blood reached his nostrils again, more intense than before.

“…”

He sighed deeply, letting go of her wrist. She didn’t back away, only kept staring.

“…”

“The bedroom is to the left. When you wake up, you’ll feel fine. Go back home as soon as you can.”

Not sparing her a single glance, he shoved her aside, passing by and straight to the door, taking the jacket off the hanger and putting it on in a hurry.

Without a word, he just left.

A single thunder echoed somewhere far away and the rain finally stopped.

˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

Remember, children. Don’t drink alcohol if you’re underage and don’t fuckin drink the tea a stranger gives you. Just… don’t talk to strangers! They’re creepy af!

Vanderweek: Day 1

Masterlist

#vanderweek #day 2 #vampire au #vanderwood #mystic messenger #mysme #mm

[ephesus-the-cornish-poet]

Brendan’s New Groove - for xFlowGrattix

Commissioner: xFlowGrattix

Contact: Discord

Order: a gift for one of my friends, moving from one side of the country (Australia) to another. (...) a somewhat cliché/stereotypical story about the bird leaving the nest to explore the world on their own. The bird venturing to settle down with a nest of their own and finding something to work on.  It's more of a parody (he's 25 after all). (...) you can use the Kookaburra. He's a very calm man - an introvert in need of an exciting twist in his life.  He does have a strong relationship with his parents, working in their business for a few years, moving multiple times in those years.

Desired word count: ~1600

Final word count: 1744

NOTE: this story's protagonist has been stereotyped and exaggerated for comedic purposes.

Brendan’s New Groove

I'm leaving the nest now. Finally.

Hey, just because Dad called me "Bren-down" after my first lone flight attempt, doesn't mean I'm doomed to follow him all my life. If anything, I'm totally Bren-done with these bland, plain-looking nests he makes us live in!

Okay, credit where it's due - he and Mom put some effort into making our homes, well, homely. Putting sticks across the hole where we may tumble out, jabbing straws through the gaps, adding leaves for cushioning until we've shedded some. Still not enough to make us forget we'll be moving again for business, but enough to keep us little cunts comfy in the meantime.

Those two old-timers climbed the social ladder real good, too. From mopping floors and cleanin up tables, they went to owning a fishin business togetha. Swept themselves roight off the dirt into the skies above, with just each other and elbow grease.

Still, a bird's gotta move out eventually, ya know? I grew comfortable with adult language; I should get used to doing other adult stuff, the good kind of stuff. I mean housing and pay cheques, of course - get your pervy minds outta the guttah!

Sure, flying all the way across the bloody country, for good this time, is no small business; but I'm not the first kookaburra to do it. Probably not, at least. Actually, I don't know of any other kookaburras who moved to the west coast. I mean, it's gotta happen... roight? and those other blokes gotta know something, if they fly 3000 kilometers just to get there, and stay. Granted they ride planes, but that doesn't really put it closer to here - if anything, it's even more of a hassle than flying on their own wings. At least I got my big bro Kurt to rely on while I look for my own thing, and I'm sure he'll have my back in case of trouble.

Plus, kookaburra social expectations are a bitch to meet - I mean, croikey... Do we really need to cackle and laugh out loud, all mornin and evenin, every single day; just to remind everyone we're still here? Or are Mom and Dad trying to compensate for my smaller bill size, bless their misled hearts? Really ruffles my feathers, ya know.

So I'm moving, too. Not my first time, since we've been all over the place as a family; nor even last, cause I'll stay with Kurt till I find a place to nest on my own. But it's the furthest I'll probably evah have moved, and the first step to livin alone.

Even if it took me five fuckin minutes of hyperventilation to brace myself for a phone caw to the airline. Not cause of anxiety, but they're just that much of a hassle to deal with; never had any problems this big with anyone else. They don't even accept scree-mail reservations for national flights, even though we are now Premium clients. Well then, I'll just wing it and book from another company. Take that, ya cheeky little shits.

When packing up my stuff into castorbean leaves, Mom gave me a walnut shell full of grubs and other wrigglers to eat on the fly. I remember she and Dad once argued the ethics of eating baby insects, it bugged me that he was against it for some obscure reason. That's a can of worms I'd rather not open, but what's a young adult bird to do? I took the buggers and thanked her, then stuffed it into my straw travel bag before Dad could see.

Just as I'm about to leave, Dad shows up with a lunchbox of his own for me, perch meat wrapped in a eucalyptus leaf. I'm not saying this cause he's my father, or cause he's a kookaburra; but he's king at fishing. His Murray cod, in particular, is considered a delicacy in local seafood restaurants. Though he's clumsy with certain fish, like how he tends to drop his bass mid-flight. Attempts to catch needlefish also fall flat, despite all the pointers and tips he receives, dulling his enthusiasm.

So anyway, after that hassle, I'm a bit too tired to swear so I decide to tone it down a bit. I also need to recha'ge my energy, and don't particularly feel like talking to even more folks. But with such a faraway journey in soight, I figure it would be noice to check on my other big bro, so I head for Adam's nest.

Lo and behold, our lil one Abid is there with him, plus a ton of our closest mates - even my good friend Flow has showed up. Turns out they decided to get togethah and ambush me into an impromptu party! It's lunchtoime too, but somehow Adam waited a bit too long to take the food outta the fridge. I have a couple-hour margin before I gotta head off, so I hang around as he puts those chef studies to use on the needlefish. I stay sharp and take the opportunity to ask him for pointers for when I'll be living alone; the moment my hand touches the pan though, Flow goes: "Oh shet, guys - food's turned Lebanese now." Know how some people make you wanna hug 'em as toight as ethically possible, but also kinda wanna beat the livin loights outta them? Yeah, that's how it feels to have brothers and best friends.

Anyway, I hug em one last time before I head for the airport, and no matter how much we try to be big boys, things still get a little sappy (okay, VERY sappy). So we stop tryin to hold back tears and bawl our beady little eyes out, until I really REALLY gotta head off to the airport.

Well, I shoulda remembered there was a reason I gave myself two hours of margin. Now, you don't just burst into a terminal and mosey on to the gates, roight? There are security checks to go through, and other lines to queue at, before boardin your plane.

Then there's me, burnin through all of that time, the sentimental twat that I just had to be. So watch me speed my way through all the checkpoints, almost forgetting to send my heavy travel bag off to the luggage area. Luckily by the time I reached the gate, the boarding line was still there so I could catch my breath before boarding. That was after five suitcase bumps to my shin, almost tripping on the escalators twice, and a family arguing against my attempts to cut in front of them.

Not a lot to say about the floight itself - airline food is mediocre at best and the passengers are worse, as always. There is the usual 'Big guy who takes up an extra half-seat with his girthy shoulders' (thankfully not next to me), the 'Creepy staring child' (sadly roight in front of me), and other all-too-familiar types. Icing on the cake, a half-dozen screamin kids; and I can swear the little shits squeal louder near me to avenge that other family I tried to cut off at the airport. At least I know my oldest bro will pick me up once we land, so I take comfort in that and rest my mind a little.

After a century waitin for the plane to taxi to the terminal, and another eon bein squished 'tween cranky, sweaty strangers next to the luggage conveyor, I hop out to the arrivals area. Sure enough there is Kurt, flutterin up to me with a big grin stretched across his smug bill, to hug me toight and chatter loudly. He even grabs my travel bag, while I stretch my cramped-up limbs troyin to urge the blood to flow normally again. After that he flaps away from the airport, the bag gripped in his talons, looking back regularly to make sure I didn't lose him even though I've been here before.

As I follow him, I recognize the city isn't all that different from what I remember of my previous visits, which is a relief. Means I'll have some level of home ground advantage, whoilst bein unfamiliar enough with the finer details for it to be challengin.

Then it dawns on me why Kurt keeps checkin on me - he's takin a wide detour to show me the most recent food places on the way home. That sounds tiring, and it is for a while; but in the end, I'm grateful for the exercise and new knowledge. There's a pond full of koi, which we've seen before but he's only tried it recently, and it's pretty good he says. We then fly through a dense forest, and he points out a fast-food joint - that is, a bent tree full of leaping bugs on its joint. Just as we're looking, a kingfisher (not a kookaburra, she has blue extremities) makes a dive, but the grasshopper she was aiming for jumps away; that food is too fast. Further away, some sheep are grazing on a relatively flat, green hill. Another bird (a dollarbird, Kurt says) tries to hunt for fleas on them, but the fleas flee; his gaze flicks to the last flea, but that flea flees too! Complaining that he's being fleeced, he flies off the fluffy fleece, flipping the bird at the sheep, who looks annoyed but mildly amused.

It feels great to finally reach the familiar marri tree, seein it blossomin and a toiny bit grown since I last saw it. As I touch down on the northeast branch, the widest, I take a moment to enjoy the scrape of its brownish bark against my scaly foot.

"Make yo'self at home, but not too much!" teases Kurt, even as he drags the travel back to my favorite fork of the tree.

I smile, feelin electrified. From seein my bro in a more relaxed place, knowing he's got my back in case shit goes wrong, and lookin forward to a brand new loife. Or maybe from the loight of hot embers in pinecones all ovah the place, hot coals undah the water collector... He's an engineer specializin in that kinda setup, which adds a bit of a zap to any kingfisher's loife. As if the whole tree were rootin for me to branch out to new experiences; I could bark in excitement, I'm on a hair twig-ger - and a bit sappy.

And it dawns on me again, I am an adult. West coast, bettah prepare yo'self.

Fuck yeh!

#story #prose #literature