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donutloverxo · 3 years

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A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

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thisbrokenmask · 3 years

Text

Matching Pair

pairing: female reader x Kim Namjoon

genre: fluff, very light angst

word count: 2,266

warnings: brief mentions of struggling to conceive, hella fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re for our baby.”

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

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mmilkbreadd · 3 years

Text

the colors of spring

|| Miya Atsumu ||

Prompt: “Aren't the flowers beautiful?” “Yes, but they're not quite what I'm looking at.”

Genre: florist au; fluff; kinda angst.

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist || Network Event

Miya Atsumu was a pretty simple person. A simple gray color among the rainbow of colors that spread throughout the world. Although they normally considered his brother that way, because of his hair more than anything, Atsumu believed that the color gray was what represented him the most.

And in spring, it was where it was most prominent.

Miya Atsumu hated spring and became a completely different person during those three months that the 'horrible' season lasted: annoying, grumpy, and with a completely red nose.

He was allergic to spring. Well, flowers really.

Could that be the reason for his simple, dark color?

So when a new flower shop was established right next to his volleyball team's training venue, MSBY Black Jackals, he thought his allergy would get worse… But maybe that wasn't entirely true after all.

The first day of spring was sunny, the birds sang, and cherry trees swayed from side to side on the sidewalk where Atsumu walked. Next to him, the colors that surrounded him, were shining, making him even smaller in his own greyness. His steps were slow and his back was arched forward. Also now and then, the sleeve of his jacket brushed his nose.

Anyone who saw him walking like that, would think he was spending a lot of time with his former teammate, Suna Rintaro; who was distinguished by having a rather particular posture.

A few meters before reaching the entrance of the building where he had to train, someone got in his way. And then Atsumu sneezed loudly.

“Do you want a flower?” asked the figure in front of him. “It's free, I just opened this place so new clients are welcome, but for now, it's just a taste of my great pieces of art!”

Atsumu looked up after trying to stop a second sneeze with his forearm.

'Sakusa won't want my sets now' he thought as he examined the flower that caused his major allergy.

The vibrant pink color that could be attractive to many, and that only made Atsumu want to run away (and sneeze over and over again), sat on both hands that came closer and closer to his face. A big smile was hidden behind that present, which he did not even dare to inspect, and eyes full of hope and dreams looked at every move he made.

“Sorry, but no. Thanks though,” he replied after a few seconds and continued walking. Behind him, a discouraged sigh was heard, but Miya didn't turn around.

He hadn't even seen the face of the person who had offered him the flower; not that he was very interested in it. The thing is, that was the first time you two met, and unlike him, you memorized his face; hoping to meet him once again. He would get one of your precious flowers, whatever it took you.

There was something about Atsumu that caught your attention. It could be from his sneeze caused by the flower. Or also that in some way, he resembled one as well.

Finally, and just as Atsumu had predicted, his teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi, did not approach him for the entire practice.

The next day, the colors were the same. And Atsumu, gray as always. Unexpectedly, the same situation happened: a person with a flower approached him, Atsumu sneezed, apologized, and continued his way. This time, though, he looked at their face; and to his surprise, he saw a big smile. Your smile.

Even if he had rejected one of yours 'great pieces of art’ just as he had before, you wanted to show him that even when you were repudiated, you still hoped that he would accept sometime.

Atsumu was the one who memorized your face this time. You didn't look gray like him, you were pretty as a flower. Well, how a flower was supposed to be. Not just a source of allergies and a bad mood, but something beautiful that was loved by all.

Something full of color.

'Maybe spring isn't so bad after all' thought Atsumu before sneezing for the eighth time after his second time meeting you, regretting his thought.

The whole week was the same: a gray Atsumu, a pink flower, and a big smile from you. He denied, apologized, and walked.

As the days progressed, a smile appeared on his face, but on yours, it disappeared. Maybe he wasn't interested in your flowers after all. What you thought was just a 'game' for you to keep insisting, it might not be one. Maybe it was time to stop; although Atsumu was already planning to ask for your name.

So today you both had different plans. For the first time Atsumu stopped his walk solo, no one had intercepted his way. Startled, he looked at the ground, where he found a small flower, very similar to the one you had offered him the previous days.

The flower was almost destroyed. It had been stepped on several times and some petals lay beside the stem; which still remained with some of them. Its pink color looked grayish. But still broken and discolored, her beauty still existed.

“Maybe the owner dropped it?” he asked aloud, not waiting for an answer, of course.

Atsumu panicked. It was just a simple flower, as simple as he was, so why bother? His allergy was far more important. But on the other hand, he was just a few steps from the flower shop, just a few steps from you.

Knowing your name was more important than his allergy, right?

Atsumu zipped up his jacket to cover his mouth and nose and then covered his hands with the sleeves. He later bent down and took the flower. Miya tried to breathe as little as possible, but as soon as he got up, he sneezed.

Atsumu watched as the flower fell from his gray hands, only to be picked up again by someone

“Poor thing, it didn't deserve this terrible fate,” you said, looking at the flower with a melancholic smile. “Of course it's not your fault though, you tried to save her from imminent death. Tragic, but imminent. I can tell that you like flowers, even if your body tries otherwise. Thank you anyway.”

Atsumu widened his eyes. Again you had stood in his way, only this time, to save the little flower even more destroyed after his sneeze.

“You don't have to thank me, I did absolutely nothing. I couldn't even lift her off the ground! ” Atsumu said, without letting his nose be uncovered.

“Oh do not worry! Even crushed and gray it's pretty, don't you think?” you asked, and then noticed that not only he was watching the one you had in your hands but all those that were in the ornaments at the entrance of the flower shop. “Well, actually, aren't the flowers beautiful? In general, I mean.”

Atsumu returned his gaze to your bright eyes, remembering your words: 'Even crushed and gray it’s pretty…’

Gray… just like him.

When Atsumu realized it, he felt like a fool. How could have he missed it? The flower was simple and gray, just like him! But it didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful!

It didn’t mean Atsumu wasn’t important or that he didn’t matter.

Maybe the color gray didn't feel so simple anymore.

And you were the one who made him realize that.

“The flowers…? Yes, but they're not quite what I'm looking at.”

The colors of spring were always part of Atsumu's life.

He just didn’t know that before.

#atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq boys #hq x reader #spring event #rintaro suna #sakusa #osamu #hqhangoutnet

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haikyuu-sickfics · 3 years

Note

Akaashi sickfic where he’s rlly nauseous and there’s a lot of build up. He’s trying to keep it down as long as possibly but eventually loses its

> Maybe Akashi and Bokuto are at an amusement park and Keiji throws up there? You can choose why he does.

Glowing yellow reflected off the various metal surfaces at the amusement park, their bright shine blinding those without adequate eye protection. Keiji and Koutarou both fell into the unfortunate group with melting eyes, the former squinting while the latter looked ahead without twinge.

"What should we ride first?" Koutarou wondered outloud, his eyes shimmering with glee.

Keiji thought to himself for a moment, deciding which ride would be the best on his nervous stomach. A feeling akin to anxiety nestled deep into Keiji's core, it's root remained unknown. There were no triggers present, the crowd was light and and calm, the high tempo music providing the perfect upbeat atmosphere. Additonally, Keiji was not one to be afraid of roller coasters.

So why did his stomach flip every time he thought of riding one?

"Maybe the carousel," Keiji offered quietly, subconciously gravitating closer to Koutarou.

"Sounds good to me!" Koutarou grabbed Keiji's wrist and practically dragged him closer to their day of immature fun.

---

A cold breeze fluttered the area as the sun set over the horizon, gentle pink and orange hues blanketing the atmosphere of the park. Abandonded litter skittered the asphalt, the walkways significantly less crowded as guardians carried their sleeping kids out of the park. Keiji couldn't help but feel envious for those kids, their arms stretched lazily towards the grounds as they struggled to keep their eyes open.

Truth be told, Keiji felt drained. The awful feeling in his stomach had remained promiment, if not more so after a small greasy lunch. But he was almost done. He had made it through the day and Koutarou seemed to still be in high cheers.

"Akaashi!" Koutarou dragged out the 'a' in Keiji's surname, "can we please ride the ferris wheel?"

Keiji frowned, his right hand instinctively traveling towards his stomach.

"You said the last ride would be the last one. I'm tired and ready to go home."

"I only said that cause I wanted to get you to ride it! Plus," his voice got softer, "I really want to see the sunset from that high with you."

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Keiji turned towards the direction of the attraction. Koutarou's excitement was contagious, an aura of happiness radiated off his body as though he was the sun. Keiji liked being around him for this reason. Fueling the happiness was one of the most rewarding activities in the world-- and Keiji would do anything for the familiar splash of yellow to infect his grey world.

"Let's go," Keiji conceded softly, walking towards the queue enterance.

Koutarou smiled widely to himself before reclaiming his spot at Keiji's side. The latter bit back a frown. Anxiety gnawed away at their midsection, with more strength and warning than normal. Going on this last ride was a bad idea. But who could say no to the charming team captain?

Well, a lot of people- predominantly Keiji- but something about being away from their responsibilities made him want to shrug off his sensible side for a day. Take a walk on the wild side, so to speak.

Or maybe Koutarou's sheer volume of dumbass-ery was finally rubbing off on him.

No matter the cause, here the two sat. Across each other in a plastic car, still warm from the previous passengers, slowly rising into the daunting evening.

The movement, though far slower than the previous attractions, affected Keiji in an overpowering way. Perhaps it wasn't the movement at all. Maybe his luck had simply run out, leaving him white knuckling the edge of his seat and practically glaring ahead.

"Are you mad that I made you come on to this last ride?" Koutarou asked, guilt seeping into his tone.

Keiji shook his head.

"I don't..." Should Keiji be honest with his upperclassmen? Lying wouldn't get him far in this situation... But maybe he could will out for a few more minutes.

His stomach turned

Scratch that. There was no willing this out, "I haven't really been feeling that good today."

"Really? Why didn't you tell me? I mean- you did look kinda constipated all day but you usually have that stoic expression so I didn't think much of it. No offense. Well I just said that you look constipated all the time there's not really a way to not take offense to that but I didn't mean it in a bad way, you pull it off. Well that sounded weird, but I meant that in a totally normal way, in a 'you always look good' way not a 'I like it when you look constipated way'; because that would be weird wouldn't it? Or maybe I'm just overthinking it. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much I think. It's like. Woah. I've been holding this in my brain without even realizing it and boom it's all coming out at once. Did you know that competive art used to be in the olympics? What did they do? Isn't art relative based off perception? How could they judge what someone elses mind created? That's why I like volleyball. It's set in stone. I'm gonna be in the olympics, you know that? I dunno when but it will happen. And everyone will look on their screens and see how awesome I am and you'll be in the stands because you don't want to continue your carreer for SOME reason. But that's besides the point. Hey, are you listening?"

Keiji had his eyes closed. The nausea was becoming overwhelming. There was too much happening at once.

The smell of food, perfume and trash.

The jerking movement of the cart.

The incessant rambling of the person seated across from him.

Everything surrounding Keiji took on microscopic form and roiled ruthelessly inside his gut. His shoulders occasionally lurched with queasy hiccups- threatening to send everything overboard.

Why now?

Of all places why did Keiji's stomach chose to revolt at the very top of a ferris wheel, the setting sun casting a blindingly painful glare into his eyes.

Did he have a migraine? Maybe. He couldn't tell at this point. Keiji couldn't keep into account everything going wrong in his body at this point. The only thing he was concerned about was finding a way to leave this ride with as little mess as possible.

"Do you have a bag, Bokuto-san."

"A bug?"

"A bag."

"A rag?"

"A. Bag."

"A hag?"

Keiji muttered curses under his breath at the futility of trying to properly communicate with Koutarou.

"This is time sensitive," he took a deep breath, swallowing a bubble of air traveling up his throat, "I don't believe I'm going to make it off this ride without being sick. So I ask you once more. Do you have a B-A-G."

Koutarou's eyes widened as he began patting his shorts in search of a valid recepticle. There was a fish net (who knows why) but that wouldn't work for obvious reasons. The only other thing which came to mind to be of use was the suveneer sinsola hat he had purchased earlier in the day to protect his neck.

Hastily, he pulled the hat off his head- having a bit of struggle with the strings and his ears, but handing it to Keiji top-down in record time.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Keji squinted his eyes at Koutarou.

"It's that or your lap."

"I'm not going to-"

Get sick in a hat- is what he was planning on saying. But the first gag took over his body before he had a chance to vocalize the rest of his sentence.

"Not going to... what?" Koutarou smirked, finding humor in the situation.

Keiji hiccuped over the hat, averting his eyes from Koutarou and clenching his jaw in embarrassment and annoyance.

Just as their cart jerked to a top at the peak of the ride, Keiji's stomach squeezed. It was a sensation stronger than the tugs he had felt throughout the day. This time, a hot sense of urgency burned the back of his mouth and gripped his esophogus.

Coughing, his body instinctually tried to dislodge the psycological ball in his throat. In response, his stomach contents finally pushed it's way up and out of his mouth in one large wave.

A strange sense of relief came with the awful act- as if the tension which had been slowly building up finally broke. He closed his eyes and allowed the conflicting feeling to overcome him.

Spitting residue acidic spit from his mouth, Keiji leaned back against the seat rest. Drying tears cooled around his eyes, which felt achingly tired. His thighs felt warm where he allowed hat to rest, lacking the energy to lift it fully up.

He barely registered the warm body sitting next to him, let alone the hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"You okay now?" Koutarou asked gently, his breathy voice warming Keiji's ear.

"Mn-mn," Keiji slowly shook his head no, his eyes remaining shut and face tilted toward the sky.

"And you call ME reckless and stupid, how the turn tables twisted. Why didn't you say anything? Or like, I dunno, stayed home? I would've understood... Maybe."

"Please just be quiet," Keiji mumbled, "and keep rubbing my shoulder... It feels nice."

"I'll rub it until we get you in bed," Koutarou assured, adding his right hand to Keiji's right shoulder.

"Mm, thanks."

Keiji paused.

"And sorry about the hat."

#sick akaashi keiji #tw vomit #vomit tw #haikyuu sickfic

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snappedsky · 3 years

Text

Fanatics 87.3

Awkwardness abounds as Squee and Johnny and Devi spend time with their younger selves.

AU is Johnny the Recovering Maniac by the marvellous @devnny Check them out!

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Lost in the Multiverse Part 3

Squee scrambles backwards, tripping over the edge of the crater he created when he crashed into the ground. As his head hits the dirt, he spots the large, purple rift hanging in the sky and stares at it with surprise.

“Okay,” he breathes and sits up. The young Todd Casil stands on the other side of the crater, clutching his Shmee and staring at Squee with wide eyes.

“O…kay…” Squee grunts and stands up, looking around. He’s on Grave Road. If it wasn’t for his younger self standing a couple feet away, he would almost believe he didn’t go anywhere. But he starts spotting small differences. Johnny’s house doesn’t have any glass in the boarded windows; the house that Colton’s family would be living in doesn’t have any of the flowers his mother plants. Instead it would be Todd’s family there now.

“Okay,” Squee says a third time. “So I’m in…the past? But where is everyone else?”

He looks at Johnny’s house. It looks dark and quiet and his car isn’t parked on the street. He hesitates for a second before crossing the yards and knocking on the front door. There’s no answer.

“Hm,” Squee hums and scratches his head, wondering what he should do, when a shiver runs up his spine. He looks up at the rift in the sky just in time to see a bunch of figures flying out. Two of them head right for him.

A pair of demons land on the ground between Squee and Todd. Their bodies are mostly human, but they have wings, tails, horns, and claws. They chortle excitedly as they glare at Squee and he flinches back.

Todd squeaks fearfully and one of the demons turns towards him, licking his fangs. Squee scowls and draws his knives.

He strikes first, startling the other demon as he charges. He barely dodges Squee’s swinging knife, the blade just grazing his nose.

The first demon turns his attention away from Todd as his partner stumbles back. But before he can react, Squee drives his knife into the demon’s ribs.

The demon roars in pain and tries to swipe at Squee with his claws. He lets go of his knife, leaving it in the demon’s chest, and jumps back to dodge.

The other demon charges in and swings at Squee. He sidesteps it and swings his other knife, slicing the demon straight up the chest. As his blood sprays out, the demon chokes and falls backwards.

The first demon rushes Squee and swings at him furiously with both claws. Squee dodges each strike and lifts his knife. The demon slices his hand on the blade, ceasing his attack, then Squee swings and slices open his throat. The demon collapses next to his partner.

Squee pants as he removes his other knife from the demon’s chest, then wipes both blades off on their clothes. As he sheathes them, he spots Todd staring at him with a mix of fear and awe, and he suddenly feels very bashful.

“Um,” he croaks, rubbing the back of his head, then clears his throat. “Are you…okay?”

Todd nods wordlessly.

“Good,” Squee nods and glances at Johnny’s house. “Um…where’s your neighbor?”

“He…moved away,” Todd replies.

“He did?”

“I think so? At least for a little while. He said he’s staying with a friend; a girl, with purple pigtails.”

“Devi?” Squee questions. “They’re living together? That’s…different. I wonder if she’s in the same place.”

“Um…” Todd squeaks and carefully approaches Squee. “Are you…me?”

Squee smiles awkwardly. “I think so.”

He stares up at him with wonderstruck eyes and Squee looks away uncomfortably.

“Um, I gotta go,” he says as he steps back and nearly trips on one of the demon’s bodies. He looks at them, then the rift in the sky, then back at Todd. “Uh…do you…wanna come?”

Todd looks at the demon bodies, then at Shmee, then back at Squee and nods. “Shmee says you’re safe.”

“He does, huh?” Squee grins and pats the bear’s head. Physically, he looks like a smiling teddy bear. But he can feel Shmee’s presence inside. And he smiles. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Where’s your Shmee?” Todd asks as they walk down the street.

“He’s back home,” Squee replies, “at least, I think he is. I’m not really sure. But I hope he’s enjoying himself.”

“So where are we going?”

“To find my friends. I think I know where to look.”

Meanwhile, Johnny and Devi make their way through younger!Devi’s apartment building, younger!Devi, younger!Tenna, and younger!Johnny at their heels. As they go up the stairs, Johnny glances back at them, unnerved.

“So, this can’t be like our direct past, right?” he questions, “cause I’m like eighty percent certain we never lived together. Also, there’s no fucking way I’d let you put a leash on me.”

“Hey! It’s for his own good!” younger!Devi snaps, tugging on the leash that she has around younger!Johnny’s neck as he looks at her awkwardly. Johnny just scowls with discomfort.

“I don’t know,” Devi replies, “are there like multiple pasts?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Johnny grunts.

They arrive at younger!Devi’s apartment and she lets them all in. It looks about the same as Devi’s apartment, but with more drawing stuff cluttering the coffee table and couch.

Younger!Devi removes younger!Johnny’s leash and heads deeper into the apartment. As Devi and Johnny look around, they find themselves standing next to younger!Johnny. Both Johnnys flinch away from each other in disgust and younger!Johnny follows younger!Devi while Johnny moves over to the other side of Devi.

“I hate this,” he growls, “I had a hard enough time learning to tolerate my physical being. Now there’s another one and on top of being another me, he’s a younger version, which just serves as a reminder of my…worser days.”

“He seems to be doing okay,” Devi remarks as she watches younger!Johnny hang around younger!Devi in the kitchen. “Kinda…clingy though.”

“And how are you doing?” Johnny asks.

“Huh? Oh, well, you know, I mean…” she stammers awkwardly. “It’s…definitely weird. But I’m okay. I mean, who cares that she’s a few years younger than me and I clearly haven’t progressed at all in my art career. I’m still working at it. And that takes time, right? So…so yeah. I’m okay.”

Johnny watches her worriedly as she looks away, rubbing the back of her neck.

“My hair looks good though,” she comments.

Johnny cracks a grin. “Yeah, it does.” “Thanks.”

On top of just looking a bit older, there a few more differences between the two pairs of Johnny and Devi. Devi’s hair is the most noticeable. Younger!Devi still has purple pigtails, while the older Devi has her natural black colour and wears it down, with one side cut shorter than the other. Johnny’s hair is scruffier than younger!Johnny’s and he seems less volatile but somehow more grumpy.

The biggest difference however is how the two of them act together. While younger!Devi and younger!Johnny are comfortable around each other, they still seem very aware of each other’s presences. For Johnny and Devi, it’s the exact opposite. They’re standing much closer together, in each other’s space and brushing up against each other without even noticing.

These are all things younger!Tenna notices as she observes the older pair from the couch.

“Are you two dating?” she asks.

“What!” Johnny and Devi exclaim in shock.

“I just thought because it looks like you spend a lot of time together,” she clarifies.

“Well…we do…but we’re not-we never-it’s not like that-,” they both stammer awkwardly. Then they stop as they realize how close they’re standing, and they step apart.

“Um, okay,” younger!Devi says, mercifully interrupting the awkward situation as she walks in carrying a plate of crackers and cheese and a bag of chips while younger!Johnny carries two glasses of soda. They rest them on the coffee table. “I don’t have much food to offer but uh help yourself.”

“Wow, younger!Devi’s a better host than you are,” Johnny comments as he sits on the floor by the table and takes a glass.

“Fuck off,” Devi grunts as she follows suit.

They also bicker like siblings or an old married couple, younger!Tenna observes.

“So,” younger!Johnny says as he and younger!Devi sit on the couch. “Are you two just gonna…stay here…?”

Johnny and Devi glance at him then look at each other questionably.

“You’re the one who wanted to guard them,” Johnny points out.

“Yeah, because it wouldn’t be fair if those demon fucks killed them because they’re after us,” Devi retorts, “but, I don’t know. I don’t know where the others are. Should we look for them?”

“Where would we start?” Johnny shrugs.

“Then maybe it would be better if we stayed here, at least for the night,” she muses, “maybe they’ll come looking for us. Then it’d be better to stay in one place.”

“So you’re gonna stay the night?” younger!Johnny asks with obvious disgust.

“I mean, if that’s okay,” Devi adds.

“Well, you did save us,” younger!Devi says, “and I guess I can’t just kick you out since you’re…me. But I don’t know where you’ll sleep.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Johnny states.

“Where do you sleep?” Devi asks younger!Johnny.

“On the rare occasion I do, the couch,” he replies, “but you can have it.”

“Thanks,” she smiles and younger!Johnny feels his cheeks flush.

“So you two really live together?” Johnny questions.

“It’s temporary,” younger!Devi replies.

“How did that happen?”

“I’m helping him recover.”

“Huh. So kinda like what Squee did for me,” Johnny muses, “I’m surprised though that you’re so…forgiving.”

“Yeah,” younger!Devi says, “it took a while for me to…get past all that. To be honest, I’m still not sure if I’m completely past it. But he did apologize.” She looks at younger!Johnny and smiles. “Which I appreciate.”

Younger!Johnny smiles awkwardly and fidgets in his seat.

“Hm,” Johnny grunts thoughtfully and glances at Devi. “Did I ever…apologize to you?”

“Not in so many words,” she replies.

He looks away, rubbing his head. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you.” Devi smiles warmly and leans into him so their shoulders touch. “I know.” Tenna glances between the pairs of Johnny and Devi. “Wow, I’ve never been a fifth wheel before.”

Both pairs quickly look away and move away from each other, feeling very uncomfortable and aware. Awkwardness fills the air and Johnny grumbles, “I hate this.”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myocs #myart

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ecofinisher · 3 years

Text

Lady Frost and the Fire King - A familiar partnership - Chap 11

Chapter 11

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31330631/chapters/77469461

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886468/11/Lady-Frost-and-the-Fire-King-A-familiar-partnership

https://www.wattpad.com/1081907828-lady-frost-and-the-fire-king-a-familiar

(Chapter is about 5000 words long. I recommend to read inside the previous fanfic links)

Kai and Alfida stood together in front of a library and looked at the description at the entrance about the opening time.

„Okay, this must be it,“ Alfida commented. „Shall we go in?“

Kai nodded, then opened the door to enter along with the girl into the library and looked around the place. Alfida showed Kai the reception, where a woman sat using the computer and the two went to encounter the woman.

„Good morning. We‘d like to know if it‘s possible for someone here to help us look for flight tickets to Paris,“ Kai spoke. „Our grandfather told us this was the only way he knew how to obtain and get information about,“ Kai asked earning a nod from the librarian.

„For your grandfather or for you two?“ Asked the librarian.

„Us two,“ Responded Kai.

„Age?“

„I‘m 15 and she‘s 16,“ Responded Kai.

„17,“ Corrected Alfida making Kai grin embarrassed.

„Okay and does it have to be a non-stop flight or a connecting flight?“

„If possible, the cheapest one,“ Added Alfida. „We gotta pay this on our own, eventually,“

„Alright I‘m looking for you two on Brian Airlines, a low-cost airline if you‘re okay with it,“ Stated the woman making the teens nod.

„There are no available low-cost flights to Paris. You would need to choose another destination and see from there, how you could go there to Paris,“ Responded the librarian.

„Well what more can you want, we‘re at the moment out of money and need to go there to get my sister back,“ Explained Kai earning a nod from the librarian.

„How did you get here, if I may ask?“

„It‘s a long story. We‘re really thankful for your help ma‘am,“

„We really are and I don‘t want to be rude or anything, but what are the prices of the available destinations? Are there close to Paris a bit?“ Asked the raven-haired girl the woman, which used her mouse to open the offers.

„60 Norwegian Kroner is if you fly to Vienna, in Austria. Wroclaw in Poland costs 50 Kroner and to Basle in Switzerland 60,“ Mentioned the librarian looking at the two teens.

„For two persons it‘s actually cheap,“ Kai mentioned glad making his crush nod.

„Oh, that‘s for each person,“ Corrected the librarian. „Each of you pays 50 or 60 bucks. So 100 or 120,“

„Oh…..okay, so looks like we have to stay here for a while and find a way to make some money for our flight,“ Kai mentioned making Alfida nod.

„Yeah, we better start to look for a way to obtain money. Maybe Hendrick has an idea and helps us out,“ Commented Alfida.

„I know I can make money with art, I just need to get myself a painting easel and colors. The issue is I will need money for that as well,“

„I‘m thinking about going to Orm and Hendrick and tell what‘s up. Hendrick mostly, he knows this world at the moment better than us,“

„I think you‘ve got a point,“ Kai agreed, then Alfida thanked the woman and walked along with the boy to the outside of the library. „Hey, should we head back to the troll kingdom and see, if we can unfreeze the others?“ Questioned Kai making Alfida shrug her shoulders.

„We could go and try, yeah,“ Replied the raven-haired. „Let‘s get out of here,“ Called Alfida walking the street up with the short boy.

As the school had ended Rollan was alone in the locker room looking at a small book he has as his agenda to see the homework he had noticed down for the week and stored the books we wouldn‘t need for now inside his locker.

„Ay, it‘s been a long time since I‘ve ever done homework. That looks like a lot than usual,“ Spoke Rollan, then stored his agenda inside his bag and got up to close his locker, then noticed his belt he encountered a few days ago. Rollan took the belt out to look at his initial letter and unlocked the aperture under it and tried to adjust it around his waist. „I…..almost got it,“ Commented Rollan trying to squeeze the thick textile through the bands of his pants. Rollan made it and closed his belt, then noticed the old-goldish tune of his symbol get lighter, making him furrow his left eyebrow and in front of him appeared a stone-creature in the air, then it dropped on the ground and it got split into two and both got up scratching their heads.

„Whoa,“ Rollan commented surprised as seeing the two creatures, then got down at the two. „What kind of creatures are you?“ Asked Rollan about to pat the slink creature, then yelped as he burnt his finger on it.

„Hey, hey, hey. Didn‘t you notice the magma on my head?“ Asked the slink stone creature watching Rollan shove his finger in his mouth. „It‘s hotter, than a day at the beach,“

„I‘m sorry,“ Apologized Rollan. „I was kinda astonished by seeing you two,“

„I‘m glad you‘re thinking that way,“ Commented the round creature. „Hey haven‘t we seen each other once? You‘re pretty familiar to me,“

„Not that I know,“ Responded Rollan. „Why?“

„I felt like I‘ve known you somehow,“ Responded the large stone-creature. „I‘m Coal by the way. You‘ve got a name as well?“

„Of course he does, Coal,“ Commented the slink stone creature, making Coal frown and punch him on his face making him fall down on the ground to split into two, now the third creature was much smaller than the slinker one.

„I‘m Rollan,“ Responded Rollan looking at the third creature, which got up along with the slinky one.

„If we‘re going to be together for the next amount of time. I would really love if I could walk on the ground on my own or be carried by you. Anytime I‘m hit or fall down, I split in two and if they fall as well, you‘ll have it worse than in a rabbit burrow,“ Coal commented seeing Rollan sit down on the bench looking at the trio,

„Can I at least know, why I am here talking to you three? What were you doing in my belt?“

„That‘s an excellent question, for some reason a foreign man mixed my powers into this belt, so I assume this would be a way to have the wielder be able to use the powers,“

„Powers?“ Asked Rollan curious. „What kind of powers?“ Asked Rollan, then he heard a loud noise on the outside of the building and ran at the window to look out and see the feet of a large robot stand there blocking the way to the buildings behind it. „Coal?!?“

„The power of fire“ Responded Coal. „You‘re able to create fire and use it,“

„Really? How can I do so?“ Asked the raven-haired boy. „Do I have to say anything?“

„You‘ll get the hand of it. You just have to transform and you‘ll be able to use the powers,“ Responded Coal watching Rollan look out of the window and hear someone scream, then the robot moved back and Rollan dropped his mouth knowing someone might be in trouble right now.

„Does this make me one of the good people if I use the firepower?“ Asked Rollan making the stone-creature shrug his shoulders.

„I‘m just here to follow your orders. Whatever path you chose, is up to you,“ Responded Coal watching Rollan look out of the window and frown.

„They need a hero? They will get one!“ Announced Rollan earning applause from the three stone-creatures.

„Then all you need to do is say, Coal, I‘m fired up,“ Stated the stone-creature.

„Coal, I‘m fired up! Ah ha, ha!“ Shouted Rollan opening up his arms and have his clothing get replaced by brown boots, pants, that were marked with fire-themed symbols resembling an engravure. On his body he wore a dark-brown pullover with small streaks, forming lava running down the clothing. Above the pullover, he wore a gray vest with similar patterns to the ones from the pants, and his belt, which now works as a miraculous was dark-red and the cover with Rollan‘s initial got brighter. His skin got darker along with his eyes and his hairstyle became fixed up resembling a fire flame with its colorings as well starting on the ground with dark brown, leading to red up to the end, which was orange and yellow.

„Wow!“ Commented Rollan astonished looking at his appearance, then ran at the exit and shrieked as the door got smacked back to encounter students from the fencing class run into the locker room accompanied by their class teacher.

„There‘s fire!“ Shouted a girl pointing at Rollan‘s superhero form, which looked around to spot the empty room.

„Where?“ Asked Rollan watching the disappear behind the locker while the rest of the team looked at the superhero. „Why is everyone looking at me as if my head was on fire?“ Asked Rollan and Mr. D‘Argencourt took out his smartphone to show Rollan his looks as a superhero and he got surprised as he saw himself as a superhero and his hair was burning at that exact moment. „Oh that‘s what you meant,“

„Get in here!“ Shouted a red-dressed fencing student, which stood at the entrance waiting for other students to leave the court and Rollan ran out heading to the field passing by a few students encountering Kim Chien Le, who he met on his first school day.

„Hey, Kim! Where‘s the danger?“ Asked Rollan watching Kim point at the outside, making Rollan nod and ran at the outside of the court to spot, a large, dark-blue car robot with two white stripes on its legs and arms holding with its left hand a police car with an agent in it. Rollan spotted on the ground Sabrina Raincomprix, which watched in shock the Roboter threatening her father.

„Papa!“ Shouted the redhead, making Rollan swallow hard.

At another part of the schoolhouse, Gerda was in the restroom washing her hands and moved to the side seeing there was no handpaper available, but a strange, electronic device, which had an etiquette with instruction on how to dry her hands in there. Gerda looked at her hands and slowly put them inside the device, which began to blow wind at Gerda‘s hands to dry them and the side of the device had a small display counting from ten down until it would stop drying. As it stopped Gerda took out her hands, then smiled at seeing it made its job good. Gerda picked up from the floor her bag, then walked out of the restroom out a the library opening up the bag to check her material, she had in it and noticed the wreath Rollan told to have found. Therefore the blonde removed the wreath from her bag, then looked at the reflection of a large metal cart and observed herself inserting the wreath on top of her head. As she‘s done that, a blue spirit appeared beside Gerda floating over the lavatory, shrieking at the girl at the sudden appearance of the small creature.

„Hello. I‘m Snowflake,“ Greeted the spirit. „I‘m coming in peace, don‘t worry. I‘m able to grant you powers...the power of ice,“ Explained Snowflake watching Gerda, which had gotten calmer. „With me, you‘ll be able to use ice. You‘ll be able to freeze things, create things, destroy things. A lot is possible if you learn to figure it out,“ „Like the….Snow Queen?“ Asked Gerda curious making the spirit nod, then she spotted someone and hid inside Gerda‘s backpack. „Hey!“ Shouted Gerda opening the backpack. „Get out of here, I need to talk to you,“ Gerda ordered, then she noticed at the end of the library a student, which was wearing a red hoodie and black pants staring at her confused. „I…..can‘t find my phone in there, but I‘m able to talk like this on it. That‘s pretty cool, isn‘t it?“ Asked Gerda faking a grin at the student.

„Uh…..we gotta hide, there‘s another akuma out there terrorizing the city,“ Stated the student making Gerda nod.

„I will come, don‘t worry,“ Responded Gerda watching the boy move on, then from Gerda‘s pocket came out the spirit, making her frown. „Why didn‘t you show up?“

„You‘re my new holder, right?“ Asked the spirit making Gerda shrug her shoulders.

„I don‘t know. You just appeared at the time I‘ve set this on my head,“ Commented Gerda making Snowflake nod.

„Then I assume you are if the wreath is supposed to go to you,“

„Maybe,“ Commented Gerda, then Snowflake floated forward and Gerda followed the spirit to see above the top of the room two TV screens hanging with the news of the akuma alert.

„Shadow Moth akumatized another citizen, which turned into an Autobot and is causing trouble in Paris,“ Explained the purple-haired moderator on TV.

„Oh oh, that‘s right here at our school,“ Commented Gerda earning a nod from the spirit.

„So what do you think? Do you want to give it a chance and use your powers to take down that monster over there?“ Questioned Snowflake. „I think the superheroes would love to have another helping hand. What do you think?“

„I‘ve never done this before. I don‘t know if I can even pull this off,“

„You can do that. You‘ve got me and my powers. You don‘t have to get worried about being hurt or killed. You're sheltered pretty well as long as you have me activated,“

„Okay I could give it a try,“ Gerda answered. „I‘ve defeated the Snow Queen once when I was younger. This will be easier…..I hope at least,“ Gerda commented, then Snowflake patted Gerda on her shoulder.

„Don‘t worry Gerda. You will do just fine. Say, Snowflake freeze and you‘ll transform,“ Added the creature making Gerda nod.

„Snowflake, Freeze!“ Shouted Gerda having her entire look exchanged. Her clothings had vanished and her entire body was covered in a long, blue winter coat with big snowflake patterns spread around the outfit. The wreath got the similar colors of the outfit, the hair had gotten lighter along with the skin, and around her eyes, up to the side of her ears, she wore a mix of ice-white and blue make-up powder with smaller dots and snowflake spread over it along a part of her cheek.

„Woah I look like a….a mini Snow Queen,“ Gerda commented. „Or no this looks like a regular winter cloak,“ Spoke Gerda, then heard the door of the library get kicked back by Kim Chien Le and Ethan, the student he played basketball with holding up the doors, so a few students ran in for safety. Gerda looked from the second floor at the two, then she had an idea and looked at the stairs beside her and looked at her hands, then held them open wide and shoot ice from her hands and she approached the stairs, so she would freeze them. Gerda smiled, then jumped on it sliding down at the first floor, then Gerda shrieked and pushed down a redheaded student and flenched her teeth in shock.

„I‘m sorry Nathaniel,“ Commented Gerda looking at the redhead scratch his head and look up at the girl bewildered from knowing his name. Gerda saw him not caring about what happened, then she ran out of the library and a few students got at the door to see the mysterious person, that had just run out of the library.

„I feel like I‘ve seen her before,“ Commented Kim making the blonde student shrug his shoulders watching the superheroine freeze the long stairs, to slide down on her back.

Rollan stood at the exit looking at the robot, which held the police car in his hands, then he whistled to catch the robot‘s attention.

„Hey! You have to pick someone who‘s worth your level!“ Shouted Rollan‘s alter ego, then he heard a whooshing sound and turned his head back to see the ice-themed superheroine come along. She had made herself a path to the exit with ice, where she was trying to slide on, but she ended up falling down on her front. Rollan got down on the ground to offer her his hand. She took his hand to get up, then tripped over the ice and hit her forehead on his nose, causing him to shake his head surprised at the mishap.

„Are you okay?“ Asked Rollan raising up the girl carefully, then looked into her blue eyes and got lost in them. „Que Hermosísimo...“ Commented Rollan making Gerda grin embarrassed at her slipping, then both turned around as they heard Sabrina cry about her father in danger.

„Have you got any idea?“ Asked Rollan. „I don‘t know, how I can get up there,“

„Maybe we should attack him from here,“ Suggested Gerda, then Rollan nodded and ran towards the supervillain, making Gerda drop her mouth. „What are you going to do?“ Asked Gerda watching the superhero move his arms back causing two fireballs on the hands, then jumped up and hit with them the feet of the supervillain, causing the metal of the feet to melt a little. Rollan looked up at the robot, which moved his feet hard yeeting Rollan across the air, so he would crash with his back against the wall of the school. Gerda ran at the superhero to check for him, then helped him sat up.

„Are you okay?“ Asked Gerda making him nod.

„Yah,“ Replied the brunette. „My fire isn‘t powerful enough to harm him,“

„I saw,“ Responded Gerda and looked at the supervillain, which used his other hand to open the door of the police car, then stopped as the policeman began to shot with his gun at him.

„I think I have an idea,“ Gerda said running at the robot then used her ice power to build around the feet of the robot ice and Rollan sat up observing her doing that. Rollan looked up at the robot, then at the schoolhouse, and had an idea, then run into the school building leaving Gerda alone trying to stop the villain with her ice power.

For a long while, Gerda continued using her ice power seeing she made it to froze the feet of the robot in it, then smiled as he didn‘t move his feet in it. Gerda raised her hand in victory, then the robot tried to pull out his right leg, making pressure on the ice, which began to decay, making Gerda wide her eyes as her plan didn‘t quite work well.

From above the schoolhouse, Gerda spotted Rena Rouge fly against the car, then catapult herself away from it, while pushing Roger Raincomprix out of the vehicle and she landed on the ground, followed by catching the heavy man almost bringing the heroine down on the ground.

„Gosh! Are you heavy!“ Complained Rena Rouge, then the supervillain broke out off the ice and Gerda ran in Rena‘s direction throwing ice at the supervillain to stop him, unsuccessfully.

„Sorry, we‘re new here,“ Gerda commented watching Rena Rouge drop the policeman on the ground, which ran to his daughter and shrieked as the robot dropped the police car over the two.

„Watch out!“ Shouted Rena Rouge then Gerda used her ice power causing a long bridge to appear over the Raincomprix‘s and it hit the bridge, causing it to break, making Gerda scream and before it fell on top of the family Ladybug showed up, coming from the school and used her yo-yo to pull them away, before getting hurt.

„Well done, Ladybug!“ Chanted Rena Rouge, then Ladybug pointed at the school court, where the two members ran into and Ladybug noticed the foreign girl and figured out, that she was wearing the ice miraculous.

„Where did you find that miraculous?“ Asked Ladybug pointing at the wreath.

„It‘s actually mine,“ Gerda responded. „Or it‘s very identical to the wreath I lost,“

„Look….“Ladybug commented, then she heard the shatter of a window, then looked up along with Gerda to see the fire-themed superhero jump out off the window against the supervillain, landing on the middle of his leg, then he used both hands to create a fireball and grabbed the iron of his leg to melt it.

Ladybug facepalmed, then watched Gerda use her ice power to freeze the leg of the villain, then she stopped as she saw the robot push Rollan off his leg into his doom, then Gerda quickly used her ice to freeze the villain‘s foot and Rollan landed on the ice, slipping against Gerda's arms, which caught him. The boy grinned abashedly, then got dropped to the ground as Ladybug approached the duo.

„I see both of you are new. Per coincidence, I already defeated this villain once. The main goal is getting into the head of the villain and destroy the car keys,“ Stated Ladybug, then she heard Cat Noir‘s staff and looked from above the houses behind the bakery to see the cat-themed superhero come along and land on the head of the supervillain, then he knocked on the head of the supervillain.

„Cou cou!“ Greeted Cat Noir gazing upside down into the cabin of the car to see the human, that was akumatized and used his staff to break the windshield, then the robot moved with his upper body hastily causing Cat Noir to fall off, then grab himself on the waist of the robot.

„How shall we get up without any help?“ Asked Gerda looking at Ladybug, then Rena Rouge had an idea and grabbed the girl on her shoulder.

„Follow me you two,“ Asked Rena Rouge switching from Gerda to Rollan, then both followed the fox-themed superheroine and Ladybug looked at her yo-yo, then threw it up to activate her lucky charm.

„Lucky charm!“ Shouted the heroine, then received a large ladder and chuckled about it. „Wow this is actually useful….in a way,“ Commented the spotted heroine, then looked around the place and noticed the car of the police agent lie broken in front of the stairs, then she had an idea and ran at the car to place the ladder over the car. Ladybug watched Cat Noir jump off the Autobot, landing on the ground, and observed the Autobot hit himself on the leg, making Cat Noir grin.

„You‘ve got a plan, bugaboo?“ Asked Cat Noir, then Ladybug pointed at the ladder.

„I had expected you to remain up on Apace there for a little longer and jump down at the ladder, but now I think you‘ve gotta do it in another way,“

„From above the school?“ Suggested Cat Noir, then heard the window of the school getting broken, then both looked up to see Rollan‘s superhero form fly towards the supervillain, getting closer to his head, beginning to distract him. „I wasn‘t aware he could do that,“ Cat Noir commented surprised making Ladybug chuckle.

„Rena is quite imaginative, isn‘t she?“ Asked Ladybug looking at Cat Noir, which then understood, Ladybug had already figured out it was an illusion. Rollan‘s alter ego jumped out off the window and Cat Noir jumped at the middle of the ladder and got on the top of it, making the ladder swank down and Rollan‘s landing on the other side catapulted Cat Noir up at the driver cabin, thereafter Cat Noir broke with his staff the side of the window, then blocked with it the driver and activated his cataclysm to destroy his car keys to reveal the akuma.

„Bingo!“ Cat Noir chanted, then the villain packed Cat Noir on his head, trying to hold him down, and moved his hand close to Cat Noir‘s hand.

„Why is it taking so long?“ Asked Rollan looking at Ladybug, which noticed Cat Noir‘s odd movements from down, then she looked up at the roof to see Rena Rouge and Gerda‘s alter ego.

„Hey, snowgirl! Jump down and help the fire guy up at the robot head to help Cat Noir out!“ Ordered Ladybug, then Gerda looked down at Rollan‘s alter ego, which waited for her to jump down. „Don‘t worry,“

„Come on, you‘ll do just fine. I trust you,“ Rollan said loud, then Gerda jumped down landing with her feet on the end of the ladder catapulting Rollan up on the robot, then he landed on top of Cat Noir and grabbed the hands of the villain to prevent him to remove the ring off Cat Noir‘s hands.

„What‘s the next plan?“ Asked Rollan, then Cat Noir moved his head to look at the villain trying to find another place, where an amok could be located eventually.

„Do you see here anything loose?“ Asked Cat Noir, then Rollan looked around noticing on the rearview mirror a religious necklace hanging on it. He then kept looking around the vehicle and glanced back at the mirror.

„What about the necklace on the mirror?“ Asked Rollan making the superhero nod.

„That must it be, destroy it,“ Ordered Cat Noir, then Rollan picked the necklace and pressed it tight together causing fire with his hands, so it would get pulverized by him, then a blue feather flew out off the broken windshield making Cat Noir smile. „Well done,“ Complimented Cat Noir and Rollan watched the feather fly out, then they heard Ladybug activate her healing light to restore everything back to normal and around the robot passed by her light and removed the robot, dropping the two superheroes on the ground. Rollan got confused, afterward looked around himself to see, what had happened and looked at Cat Noir.

"Is your hair really burning?" Asked Cat Noir looking at the rookie, which was checking the surroundings wondering, where the robot had gone.

„Where did the robot go?“ Asked Rollan. Cat Noir spotted the citizen, that had been de-akumatized appear on the ground and beside him stood a blue, American muscle car. Cat Noir got up and went down on his knees to check on the man.

„Did you get caught on another illegal race, Anthony?“ Asked Cat Noir making the man shake his head.

„Not really, but I broke the speed limit and got my license taken away. I actually deserved it anyway, but I have let the anger take over me,“ Explained the driver, then Rollan looked into the car to see the necklace on the mirror, then got down to the man as well.

„That necklace in there, I used to have one from my mother, but I‘ve lost it,“ Commented Rollan.

„I‘ve got it there as a lucky charm,“ Stated the driver. „But I should really keep the velocity down. Not because of my life, I could bring someone else in danger or even erase someone‘s life, who‘s most likely to be innocent,“

„We never know,“ Commented Cat Noir, then Rollan got up to approach Ladybug, Rena Rouge and Gerda‘s alter ego, then smiled at the girls.

„We‘re not quite the skilled heroes here,“ Commented Rollan. „I‘m not sure, how we got to be them or if we deserve it,“

„Actually I‘ve lost your two‘s miraculouses during my last fight and I needed to retrieve it, but you two were fighting without any hesitation and trying to help. I think I‘ll let you keep them. Now that Shadow Moth is stronger than before it would be really good to have more team members. This was your first time, you two will gain skills with the time,“

„Yes,“ Agreed Gerda looking at Rollan‘s alter ego, which smiled at her and bowed down at the girl.

„Have you two actually a name?“ Asked Rena. „You know a superhero one?“

„Exactly, no one has to know who our identity is. No one. This is most important, cause if Hawk Moth knows about our other identity, we and our family and friends will be in danger,“

„Sure,“ Responded Rollan.

„I promise,“ Gerda added.

„So, what‘s your hero name?“ Asked Ladybug. „Paris needs to know, who these two newbies are,“

„Well I would need to think about how I should call myself...something feminine,“ Stated Gerda while Rollan pondered about it.

„Fire King, I‘m Fire King,“ Stated Rollan making Ladybug smile.

„It does‘t have to be complicated. Something very simple like uhm….Ice Queen“ Suggested Ladybug making Rena chuckle.

„Or Frosty, Frosty-girl, Queen Frost…….Ice Frost….“ Suggested the Fire King making Gerda chuckle, then she figured out a name she could use.

„Hey, I think I‘ve got one…...What about, Lady Frost?“

„It‘s up to you, if you like it,“ Mentioned Ladybug earning a nod from Rena Rouge.

„I like it,“ Rena commented making Gerda smile.

„I find it suits you,“ Added Fire King earning a nod from the light blonde girl, then Ladybug lifted her fist up in the middle, then watched Cat Noir and Rena Rouge get beside the two and look at the two newbies. Rena Rouge moved her eyes calling the attention of the two rookies, which smiled and placed their one hand in the middle to do a group fist bump.

„Pound it!“ Said the group together, seconds later Fire King and Lady Frost repeated their sentence, then saw Cat Noir‘s ring beep.

„Oh excuse me, I gotta go, see you another time,“ Cat Noir said waving at the group.

„How long have you been superheroes if I may ask?“ Questioned Lady Frost watching Ladybug think about it.

„I think about two years, almost,“ Replied the blue-haired girl. „I‘ve got a lot of experience on my back. You two are new, inexperienced, and are probably new to us all. Eventually to each other as well. The more we work together in the future, the better you two get,“

„Thank you for your confidence, Ladybug,“ Commented Lady Frost giving the heroine her hand to shake, then saw Ladybug‘s earring beep.

„Oh I gotta go as well, before I transform back,“ Warned Ladybug earning a nod from Rena Rouge, which saluted at the duo and ran away. Ladybug used her yo-yo and swung away, disappearing behind the building and Fire King and Lady Frost looked at each other.

„Do we know each other?“ Asked Fire King making the ice-themed heroine shake her head.

„Probably not. I don‘t seem to recognize you,“ Responded Lady Frost making the brunette nod.

„I felt like I‘ve seen you before,“ Commented Fire King. „I don‘t know, maybe your eyes made me feel like I‘ve seen them before,“

Lady Frost chuckled, then patted the superhero on the shoulder.

„Probably just a coincidence. There are more people with blue eyes. Might just be a coincidence,“ Explained Lady Frost. „I have to go. We will see each other next time,“ Mentioned the blonde making the fire-themed superhero nod and watch the heroine ran into the school court. Fire King smiled enchanted as the heroine went upstairs and leaned his back against the railing of the school sighing.

#11 chapters until they met wow #ecofinisher #ecofinisherfanfics #miraculous #miraculous au #crossover #snowqueen #Снежная Королева #снежная королева герда и роллан #снежная королева герда #герда и роллан #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #ao3 #archieve of our own #updated #ficupdate #fanfic update

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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DM questions, a new round.

"i am very curious for the vids on amara right now, because I feel like I did not understand a lot of the underlying text from her plotline."

My Amara heavy vids are Reflection (S14 orig)/Destiny's Reflection(S15 update), End of the Line, and Xanthosis. However they're more how she interplays to the storyline for the mains rather than a breakdown of the mythological significance at large. I'd say check my talk on Absence. Somewhere I do have a cosmogeny post from like S13, where I break down the Qabbalah on this but I can’t seem to find it at the moment and would be a bit extra. Almost overcomplicate things right now since it went into the tree of life and pillars, even if that’s quite predictively mapping out our path right now episode by episode.

I will say: not all mentions of “absence” on my blog are specifically in regards to Amara, but rather, to a collective mindset. The fandom -- frankly, humans in general -- tend to think in dualities. A subtle point in the subtext of this all is that dualities are often more a matter of being and unbeing. Darkness isn’t a thing, it is an absence of light. Death isn’t a thing, it is an absence of life. Evil isn’t a thing, it is an absence of good. It wasn’t by magic that I pre-quoted Cas in well...Absence once I saw the episode title while dealing with Jack being soulless. (x) This is something to learn moving forward-- or uh unlearn. Be absent of former dichotomous coding. This is critical in other things like The Absence of Life which is going to be incredibly crucial to grasp coming up. (x)

Many authors talk about the Absence of Cas as a narrative tool, and while this is very valid, I find it’s almost too targeted. It’s a valid tool to start thinking about empty space: absence of Cas in AUs, the loss of Cas in the alternate future, and more--you’ll find me showing how Amara’s exit itself paralleled Cas and both handled Absence. But this is a very large scale idea that also impacts the sum of our cosmogeny really. You don’t think of it being “Cas” and “negaCas”, it’s just... absence. Something that isn’t there. Now expand that on these ideas.

I once etched this out on paint to try to streamline it when it comes to our Alpha and Omega (11.23), aka our Form and our Void (11.2).

"For the graphic, i just watched a few vids on alchemy and the 'souls' 'occultum' and 'eden' stand for 'soul' 'mind/spirit' and 'body' respectively right? But I am a bit confused about the end of the second paragraph, because from one of your posts I gathered that the souls are collected/destroyed/taken by amara and then "returned" to the empty. But in the graphic you seem to be implying the exact opposite? I think? Anyways it was very helpful to put all the different info into context thanx!”

They're pulled out into Absence, Absence is the lack of Being, Being is the created world. Beyond the created world there is the Empty. In the Empty there is only the Shadow.

And you're kinda close on the soul stuff. I'm at work so pardon if I'm going to be brief, I have a boss in my ear on a conference call but the long and short of it is... soul, mind/grace, body. But body is also the physical world. As above, so below. Everything, and I do mean everything, ties into this. Souls, heaven, how reality is structured -- if you haven’t yet, check my heaven meta as it tries to communicate this but also make sure to read through the rest here. (x)

The soul is the foundation of all things, the mind reflects the soul and identities grown of it from the creative collective, body/earth is the perception of the world and vessel in which we grow.

VISITA TERRAE RECTIFICANDO INVENIES OCCULTUM LAPIDEM

Visit the interior parts of the earth; by rectification thou shalt find the hidden stone.

Or, “loosely translated,” In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.

The alchemists often referred to this as the “Marriage of the Sun and Moon,” which symbolized the two opposing ways of knowing or experiencing the world. After this Marriage of the Mind, the initiate experiences an increase in intuitive insight and the birth of Intelligence of the Heart. This newly found faculty produces a sense of reality superior to either Thought (Mind/Grace), or Feeling (Soul), alone.

The soul lights and powers the mind, the mind perceives the body, the body is vessel of the world and gives meaning and form for the soul for the mind to receive, relive and understand, as opposed to the unformed and seeking Shadow in oblivion wondering if it even exists that just wants to sleep. This is also not so different from the world orbiting around the sun despite previous confusion, if sun = soul, but the moon reflects the sun’s life and is a key catalyst for making life achievable on earth in many ways. Wherein moon = mind. Hmmm what was it that led Cas right to the occultum before it passed in the same order as the last sphere this year?

"Yes! I believe I actually understood everything you just said perfectly fine! (Three hours ago this basically just would have been gibberish to me, for real!) but for real, tysm for explaining, you really have a way to get everything down short and precise, even if i have to read a few things double. Just one more question, you saying they are pulled out into absence, and then the circle gif: does this mean in the grand scheme of things that the circle is finished by the time "a soul goes back to the empty" (very loosely described). Or is the circle a bigger one where it began with "the empty" / "the ink man(was one of 'his' names I think)" waking up -> everything forming out of nothing. And will end at some point with everything returning to nothing. Just to start anew - and therefore cause another unrelated circle? Sorry I this makes absolutely no sence at all "Waking up" referencing the big bang of course - "everything returning to nothing" meaning the collapse of the universe - and the "start of another circle" meaning a second big bang"

There's actually two takes on this! Very good question! Ironically, most gnostic branches believe the ascent does return you to the formless shadow, and it's called a Nihilistic view. Basically you return to the source of the machine as the one. On the other hand, more hermetic structures are called Optimistic, in that the machine is self-created by us to learn and master ourselves through and achieve enlightenment by returning to a *reflection* of the core. In supernatural, this would be the Garden, where the unconscious shadow being built over in creation reaches down as the subconscious serpent and asks who you are-- man returning to the garden.

In fact, Jack’s role in this (including the Luciferian parts I’ll talk below) in being the one TO return to the garden corresponds with phanes and the orphic egg, the (remastered) being that CAUSES that big bounce. (x) Why yes, I AM going to just keep throwing season 14 posts at you because this structure is a few years building at this point.

The Shadow may be the source but a still raw and unformed one, it's the fish before it crawled out of the cosmic water if you will.

Whereas the question of Being or Unbeing, first sourced in ideas like Chuck and Amara, came as thought. Thought and Mind made the world in Being.

So Chuck Had A Dream, and built it, but off the back of a primordial Shadow soup that already existed before him.

So the Thing that wonders why, or even if it exists, does exist as a formative Prima Materia, first material, on which the mind itself was made, but in reaching into the created world also has a new form. There, the crossroads of man and divinity, the Garden, where Jack reclaimed his soul.

Chuck is the first Mind to create by Grace and the Word (Logos, notice the book between Dean and Castiel) and half of the first question. Abraxas: Abrahadabra: I speak, therefore I am.

Chuck would thus be (half of) the Shadow's mind in its first form, but lacks the actual essence that defines the Shadow, and the Soul. Some schools of gnostic thought believe that humans were originally created, their body forms, by the Demiurge (Chuck), but they had no souls. So the Shadow descended as a serpent, sometimes Lucifer sometimes not (I don't think SPN is doing that part--or more, as above, is using Jack, the orphic child, as Phanes), to teach them the difference between good and evil, but that forbidden fruit wasn't an apple or whatever, it was giving them a soul, because the soul is the one true good and foundation of it all.

There is no evil, there is only the absence of good.

But the acquisition of that made them more than Chuck's dream, but able to have their own.

Hope, art, dreams. Those are human things.

Yes, they are.

The soul breeds the mind, the mind perceives the body, the body shapes the experience OF the soul as perceived by the mind, and these things make our heavenly thrones, thought boxes if you will

Supernatural is actually asking the audience to ponder the meaning of life.

What about all of this is real? Is it our circumstances?

No. The where isn't significant as much as what we do with it.

What about all of our Lives is real?

People, families. We are.

This is real.

Why do we exist? What is the meaning of it all?

The meaning is what we make between each other.

Who are we when we are first born? Are we as an infant who we become? Would I be a completely different person if I lived a different chain of circumstances and knew completely different people? How many lives must I live to find my way?

Chuck wants them to believe that the Gold they have made in this world and their interpersonal relationships cannot stay. Perhaps in his world that may be true. But man and his soul and his mind is a mortal beyond the body of this world

If they break Heaven from the chains he put around it then he has no power over man. It's the same reason he sealed Amara away. He knew they were equals and he couldn't stand it.

Man has the same right to the throne that Chuck has. Only his propaganda machine and keeping people in the ecosystem of his boxes is what gives him Authority. But as Fortuna says, don't play his game. Make him play yours.

As Dean said when he threw Michael in the Box.

My mind, my rules.

In that box, Dean was God. Everyone else was just All The Same. Michael couldn't snap his fingers and nuke them all, he didn't have Chuck's given right of being a wavelength of intent across the realm.

"In this place, I'm God!" cried the mayor in Peace of Mind.

Each and every heaven box is a potential world made by man, a timeless place shuffling their greatest memories and ideas, but left empty by the lack of other souls in it. The souls remain the one true thing and he who has the most souls is god.

Man is god, end of story, Chuck's just... an architect.

And every human can be one.

Perhaps my greatest frustration in this fandom is trying to slam out post after post explaining how wall to wall this incredibly deep philosophy is, to try to point out its resounding and powerful message to an entire audience, only to be met by resistance over silly fan warring about wanting or not wanting a ship like. Honestly, I don’t care if someone doesn’t like ~Destiel~ like. Get over it. You can see it as a long series (15.09, 15.13, etc) of platonic bro marriages of the platonic bro mind for their cosmic taxes to get a discount on the loan for their galactic fucking refrigerator at this point, but you are fundamentally doing yourself an entire assed disservice on the very moral bone structure of this show to not be willing to absorb this, much less prepare for how this will usher out our ending.

I don’t care if you ship Dean with Anna or Lisa or some other ancient shit, I don’t CARE if you prefer some Cas ship from 1492, tuck all that away. Please, for the love of everything holy, try to understand these lessons that the writing crew are even using to try to help counsel everyone through the ending of a show that took up much of our lives and, beyond that, learn how to carry these lessons into the real world in a way that just might maybe make you a better person who is able to have a better experience in their life.

#supernatural #spn #meta #my meta #pagan life #amaah #amara #death #darkness #absence #dichotomy #souls #cosmogenesis #vitriol #occultum

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excelsi-or · 3 years

Text

just a little sweeter (pt. 10)

HELLLLOOOOOOOO~~ are you guys still there? LOL, it’s been like a month and a half since I last posted on here. The end of the semester just really got intense with projects, presentations, and finals. But I’m here and back for at least two weeks. I wanna see if I can bosh out the rest of this series before I move onto another one.

I hope you’re all well. If you wanna update me on what’s new with you all, I’d love to know. I applied to grad school. I have one more semester left before graduation. Vaccinations have started in my area of the world. I started playing Hollow Knight (if anyone wants to talk about THIS GAME, please do. I love it.) Think that’s kinda it.

BIPOC reeeeeccccc: N. K. Jemisin’s The City We Became is EXCELLENT. Diversity, racism, feminism, LGBTQ representation. I love it so much. One of my favourite books of the year, hands down. Nicole Crowder on IG does like upholstery and interior DIYs and content. I’ve been wanting to upholster these two chairs in my home and she put up a whole 2 min tutorial on how to do it.

w.c. 3k (lol, it got really long oops! fluff and mature content, not quite smut, but it was definitely getting there. The first draft of this part was basically just smut, so I chopped and fixed it LOL. hope you guys still like it.)

pt.1; pt.2; pt.3; pt.4; pt.5; pt.6; pt.7; pt.8; pt. 9

“What do you mean you haven’t had sex with him yet?”

She rolls her eyes and sets a bowl in front of her previous roommate. Soobin had moved out months ago, shortly after she’d met Jihoon.

“It’s going really slow.” She slips into the seat across the table. “We haven’t really said I love you yet either.”

“What do you mean ‘haven’t really said’? What? Just ‘cause Woozi’s an idol he doesn’t know how to treat you right?”

She motions for Soobin to tuck into the food. “Jihoon is treating me wonderfully, thank you very much.” She pauses, her chopsticks hovering in the air. “It’s just… slow.”

“He has a whole child!” Soobin chews her noodles as she continues. “You’ve already passed the point of going slow.”

“It’s not as if Eunha is my child.”

“The kid spends more time here than any of our friends or your family.”

“Jihoon’s been busy.” She shrugs. “It’s easier for him to leave Eunha here than take her with him. Plus, you know the Terror likes her.”

Soobin chuckles. “That little horror of a brother of yours likes everyone.”

She smirks. “Okay, fair.” Then she waves her chopsticks between them. “But Eunha’s probably the reason why he’s going slow. We need to see if we’re compatible.” She meets Soobin’s gaze. “The man has a child.”

“It’s been months!” Soobin quickly cuts in before any interruptions. “Seven months to be exact. You would think that the next step at analyzing compatibility is whether you guys vibe in bed.”

She hums. She doesn’t want to admit out loud that yeah, she’s been having fantasies about Jihoon. However, she hasn’t gotten any clear signals from Jihoon that he wants to pursue anything further than making out on her couch after a date. And before she can broach the topic, he’s off to go get Eunha. If Jihoon never wanted to have sex with her, she wonders if that would be a deal breaker. But she really has no idea.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Sex? No.”

“So, what do you guys talk about?”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “You say that as if the only thing you and Jae talk about is sex.”

“Well, it came up a lot when we first started dating.”

“That’s because you guys started off having sex.” She sighs, turning her noodles with the tips of her chopsticks. “This relationship is really different. I don’t know how to gauge it.”

“Do you love him?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“But you do.”

“Yeah.”

“And does Eunha put you off wanting to be with him?”

She rests her cheek in her palm. “I honestly thought she would, but she only makes me love him more.”

“Then talking about sex, even if you’re not having it, is the next step.” Soobin gauges her friend’s reaction. “Even if Jihoon is the type not to want it. You should at least know that. He’s obviously done it at one point.”

There’s a pause before they both say, “The child.”

She nods. “You’re right though. We should talk about it.”

Seungcheol knocks on the studio door. “Hey. You needed me?”

Jihoon turns in his chair and nods. “Yeah. I need a second set of ears on this song. Bumzu hyung and Soonyoung are busy.”

Seungcheol nods and falls into the seat next to Jihoon. He notices the book on the desk. It’s been sitting there for a while. “You finish it?”

Jihoon glances at the book. “Oh.” Then, he resumes clicking through the excessive number of files open on his screen. “Yeah.”

And you haven’t returned it?”

“She reads it when she comes over.” Jihoon hands over the headphones and finally catches Seungcheol’s expression. “What? Is there some big meaning behind that too?”

Ever since he started dating, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and basically everyone in the building has found various meanings in his songs and life that allude to how ‘in love’ he is. He’s not about to tell everyone he’s in love—she doesn’t even know that yet—but not everything going on is about his relationship.

Seungcheol shrugs as he adjusts the headphones on his ears. “You seem to think there isn’t.”

“God.” Jihoon sighs and turns in his chair. He drops his cheek into his palm. “Enlighten me.”

“She’s a big reader and doesn’t like to leave books unfinished. If she’s letting you hold onto it for her, for when she comes over here, that says something.”

“So does leaving my daughter in her care, but we all have something we need taken care of.” He turns back to the screen. “Now, listen to this hook for me.”

Seungcheol settles back into the seat. He bops his head along to the melody until the lyrics play clear in his ears. Wide eyed, he turns to Jihoon and pushes one headphone off his ear. “We’re not putting this on the album, are we?”

Jihoon looks over at him with an eyebrow lifted. “Why not?”

“This is such a… a bedroom… sex song.” Seungcheol shakes his head. “We can’t put this on there.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?” He looks at the file name and feels his cheeks heat up. “Whoa. Not that one.” He quickly closes the file and makes sure that it’s closed. But his checking gives Seungcheol time to see a folder with her name. There’s one for Eunha that none of the boys want to ask about, but his girlfriend? She’s fair game.

“You have a folder of songs for her?” He acts horrified. “And that was one of them?”

Jihoon tries to think of any way out of this conversation and realizes that due to his carelessness, he can’t. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“How many songs are in there? Do they all sound like that?”

“I refuse to answer those questions knowing that everyone is going to know by tomorrow and it’s already embarrassing that you know about one of them.”

“Hey.” Seungcheol’s voice goes soft. He likes to tease, but he recognizes touchy subjects when he broaches them. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Jihoon side eyes him. “I don’t want to admit how I feel about her to you when she hasn’t even heard all the songs on there.”

“What’s the folder for?”

“Just… inspiration.” Jihoon leans back further in his chair. “The songs on the upcoming album have come out of there. At least the less… perverted ones did.”

“There are other songs like that.” Seungcheol tries not to sound too surprised.

Jihoon’s cheeks are so warm that he takes a sip of his iced coffee. “Lately… yeah.”

“Have you…” Seungcheol shakes his head. “No. How could you? You always come home for Eunha.”

At this, Jihoon looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… just that if you guys were having sex, you wouldn’t come straight home to your daughter, would you? Not when all of us would know.” Seungcheol narrows his eyes. “Right?”

Jihoon doesn’t even know how to respond to that except with the truth. “Fine. No. We haven’t yet.”

“Because of her or because of you.”

“Things are going slow. I don’t know… how to broach the topic.”

“Why can’t showing up to her door with passionate kisses be enough?”

“And what? Leave Eunha with you guys overnight?”

“Yeah, why not?”

So, Jihoon does just that and it turns out so much better than he expected.

“Why does this shirt,” he mutters between kisses, “have so many buttons?”

She giggles against his lips and steadies his hands in hers. “You’re excited. Like a child. Calm down.”

Jihoon hums, obsessed with the taste of her lips and her hands around his. She guides him through the motion of unbuttoning her shirt. Once they’re undone, he pulls away slightly. She tips her head. Jihoon is gentle with her shirt, sliding it off her shoulders. Her eyes watch him the entire time, watch him admire her body as the fabric falls to the floor. His hands start from the sides of her thighs up her body, skimming over her underwear, and holding her under the arms, hands right by her breasts.

“You’re really gonna tease,” she chuckles. She closes the distance between them, kissing him and fumbling with his shirt. His shirt is easy, his sweatpants he practically steps out of. It’s once they’re both just standing in their underwear that she stops him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jihoon kisses her shoulder and up her neck to the base of her jaw. “Why would I want to stop?”

“Eunha?” she hums. The child’s face is prominent in her mind, but becomes hazy every time Jihoon sucks a spot on her neck.

“She adores you. Which gives me permission to also adore you.”

She smirks, arms wrapping around Jihoon’s neck to force him back to her lips. “I’m glad I pass the test.”

Jihoon scoops her up and carries her to the couch. She gasps in surprise, which forces him away again. Spread along the couch are a lot of her art supplies. When she turns back to him, there’s a grin on her face.

“I wasn’t expecting you to jump me tonight. I was planning to paint, so…”

“Do you want to clean first?” he chuckles.

She shrugs.

Jihoon snorts and picks her shirt up off the floor and hands it to her. As much as he wants to sleep with her, it seems tonight may not be the night. He finds his sweatpants and pulls them on then helps her move her art stuff. He sits on the coffee table while she manoeuvres her piece from the floor to the desk.

“Do you want to paint?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I want to spend time with you.” She moves some stuff to make space for her piece.

“Do you want to teach me to paint?”

She peers over her shoulder at him. “Really?”

“Well, I’m impossible to teach, but I don’t want to leave yet.” Jihoon glances at her bare torso, as she hasn’t bothered to button the top. “And I like the view.”

She rolls her eyes, an amused smile on her face. “Are idols allowed to say stuff like that?”

Jihoon looks around her home. “Unless you have a listening device and turn me in, I’m confident to say how I feel about you.”

A smile blooms on her face at hearing that. She pulls one of her watercolour pads off the desk and motions for him to join her on the floor. She flips past the first two pages, but Jihoon still catches glimpses of them.

He grabs her wrist to stop her. “Were those of Eunha and me?”

“Oh.” She tilts her head and flips back. “Yeah.” The first page is from the night he had come over to learn to cook. The second was their first date.

Jihoon looks to her expectantly and she can only shrug.

“I draw what I like.”

Jihoon doesn’t know why he finds that embarrassing, but his ears feel warm.

She tips her head back in a laugh. “Of everything that’s happened tonight, Jihoonie, I don’t think you need to be embarrassed to hear that I like you.” She returns to the one with Eunha on it and pulls the sheet. “I wanted to give it to you, but I thought maybe it would be creepy if you knew I was painting you and your daughter from memory.”

Jihoon stares at the paintings. He can see Eunha’s expression in them; how happy she had been with the meal and the dessert. If this is what he’d look like that night, he had been extremely relaxed. His finger traces over the skin, amazed at how seamless it appears.

When his eyes lift to meet hers, she seems surprised to see tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Nothing.”

She slides closer to him and her thumb brushes his tears away. “You’re crying.”

Jihoon sighs and his head tips back, as he tries to keep the tears in. “I… it’s just that…” Jihoon’s gaze rests on her again. “No one else has seen Eunha like this. The members do, but they helped me raise her. Which is why sometimes she’s an absolute menace.”

She smiles.

“But…” Jihoon studies the painting, at his baby so beautifully depicted. “I don’t know. This kind of reminds me that maybe I’m doing okay if she looks like this.”

“Jihoon, you’re doing great. She’s happy and she loves you.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m failing her all the time, and…” The tears appear again. “And I feel like I lost some of who I am, because I had her.”

She eases the sheet of paper out of his hands. Jihoon uncrosses his legs so she can move between them, draping her legs over his thighs. Her hands plant on the floor between them as she leans forward to press kisses to his face. His eyes close at the sensation. “Jihoon, she is all you. Your music is who you are. You live and breathe Seventeen. Just because you became a father doesn’t mean you lost any piece of the Jihoon that was there before she existed.”

Jihoon lifts a hand to the back of her neck to pull her closer. Painting is put on the back burner, as they get lost in the feeling of kissing each other. Jihoon’s legs curl behind her to prevent her from moving away. His free hand slips inside her shirt and finds home on her hip. His thumb moves back and forth across the skin there.

Meanwhile, her hands have pulled him as close she can get him, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she gives the hair at the base of his neck a small tug, he groans. This lets her slip her tongue into his mouth. He tastes like her coffee, unsurprisingly enough. And she has to admit, it tastes better on his tongue than in the cup.

She can feel his growing hard on through his sweatpants. When she pulls away to breathe, she asks, “So we’re not painting then?”

Jihoon hums something incoherent, because she latches her lips against his neck.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She slows her assault on his neck, but doesn’t stop.

“No hickies.”

“Simple enough,” she breathes against his skin.

Jihoon finds himself falling back onto the floor as her kisses trail all over his body. Her hands explore every muscle and memorize them. Jihoon enjoys the treatment, his eyes closing while he lets his other sense take over. She wiggles him out of his sweatpants again and then returns to his lips.

“Bed?” She adjusts her body over his, putting pressure against him, which makes it impossible for him to reply.

Jihoon looks up at her and his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. She sucks a spot on the soft skin near his jaw, but stops before it can leave a mark. He manages to roll them over.

“You’re making it really hard to think.”

She slides a leg between his, which seems just enough friction for him to grimace. “You’re thinking with something else.”

“Where’s your bed?”

Her eyes dart to her left. He helps her to standing and then lifts her. Her legs wrap around his waist. If there had been other objects in the way, he would have knocked into all of them, because she starts kissing him again. And it seems like his brain shuts off as soon as she does that. He presses her against her bedroom wall and when he ruts against her, her breath catches.

“So, you are needy.”

“Lee Jihoon, you are literally between my legs,” she manages between kisses. “Yes, I’m needy.”

Jihoon pulls away for a moment. “But you’ve seemed so calm and collected tonight.”

She rolls her eyes and gently kisses his cheeks before saying, “If I was ready to pounce on you when you walked in here, would you have wanted to fuck me?”

Jihoon jumps at the blatant term, but he pivots so that he can lay her on the bed. One of his hand sneaks between her legs, his other arm propping his body over hers, and drags his fingers over the fabric. When she squirms beneath his touch, he says, “Maybe not. But… I’ve wanted this a while.” He meets her gaze. “So I don’t think too much have scared me away tonight.”

Her head tilts back as he begins to rub his fingers in circles. He watches her carefully.

“Stop staring,” her breath hitches, “and kiss me.”

Jihoon smirks. “Make me.”

She snakes a hand behind his head to pull him down towards her. Her kisses stutter depending on the speed of his fingers. His kisses trail down to her neck and nibbles the soft skin on her collar bone. She presses her hands into his shoulders to try to keep her bearings. When he kisses back up her neck and sucks the soft spot of her jaw and she moans something beautiful, he knows that’s a sound he’s going to have in his mind long after this is over.

He slows his fingers down. “How close are you?”

Her breath is heavy; she can’t even answer him. Her rut up into his hand is good indication though.

Two of her orgasms and one of his later, he returns from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently cleans her off. Then he lies on top of her again, her hands go to massage his temples.

“So, you’re going to tell your daughter we… coloured when you came over today?” she teases.

Jihoon rests his cheek against her chest, listening to her heartbeat slowing down after the exertion. “I told her she was staying with the members because I was coming over here for a play date.”

She laughs. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

Jihoon can’t help but smile as he falls asleep.

#woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #lee jihoon scenarios #Lee Jihoon #seventeen scenarios #Seventeen #seventeen imagines #Svt

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sango-blep · 4 years

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Hi Sango!!!! I saw your post on arts tut or asks and bring my courage to ask you. I love the way you draw poses of the each characters in the drawing and they seems so neutral. How do you practice that? Do you have any tips or suggestions for learning good poses??? I have tried to copy magazine and bought bunch of art anatomy book but I just can't learn. If there is any tips, I will be ever grateful. Thank you. 😊😊

You can check out my previous post where I already talked a bit how I basically get from first idea, to putting it down for a drawing/comic.

I've already talked about this in previous posts, but gesture and figure drawing is the key! you can browse my ""tutorial" tag for the other posts.

There are plenty good videos about how to get started with figure drawing on yt, proko always has good content! Learning the difference between contouring and actually gesture/figure drawing is important here.

The first gif is how I may have approached drawing a figure from a ref years ago,no real idea yet how gesture and figure drawing works, so you're just focusing on the lines and trying to copy those aka, contouring, instead of actually building a figure.

Second gif is a very quick example how I would approach something like this today,notice how I go for the torso first,putting down which way it 's pointing and twisting is really important, I also drew in a line of action for you all, it shows the general energy/movement of a figure. Anatomy is really not important yet and is something you can start defining once you got your basic figure!

Ignoring figure drawing and trying to go straight for anatomy or getting too focused on contouring instead of drawing a figure is how you end up with those dreaded way too stiff poses.

1. the “how not to” draw a figure, aka contour.

2. gesture (whe you make a long ass post and then tumblr doesnt let you include the gifs...I hope the links work)

putting the rest of the post under a cut!

This stuff can look kinda vague and confusing at the beginning, but stick to it! I could’ve probably also put the line of action on the dude the other way around, so it shows the curve of his torso going into his right leg instead of the arm. Or you could even put down two! Now to a more hands on exampe from one of my actual drawings. This is why I keep sketches fairly simple most of the time,my main focus is on getting the gesture and the energy down, detail can come later! You can see that I didn’t bother with properly drawing the faces, especially in a bigger picture like that, the faces really aren’t that important compared to a portrait. Having good dynamic poses and body language is my priority here.

I guess all of this is what also helps me to stay consistent! That and already having drawn those characters many times and just being familiar with their features. To get back a bit more to the how do I start an idea and refence question. I highly HIGHLY recommend everyone to check out the program pureref for pc and vizref for ipad. Essentially it’s an infinite canvas that let’s you import or even just drag and drop pictures into it and create a reference board!

Using reference is so important and those programs are so incredibly helpful, especially when you’re working on bigger projects. You can throw all of your refs into ONE file, and when you continue working you just gotta open that one file instead of opening all those individual pictures and sites you saved. They let you mirror,rotate, crop and much more inside of the program making this so so so helpful.

I’m literally begging y’all at this point to give pureref a shot, it’s free. Vizref costs about 4,50 but is still a steal considering the value you get out of it.

Here’s an example of the ref board I put together for the zine piece I drew last year!

Reference is a big topic by itself and I don’t wanna make this too long. If anyone wants to know more about reference and the different way you can use it and how I use it just let me know and I can put together another post!

#tutorial #how i art

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aj-anime-blog · 3 years

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To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts - Review!

First review here we go!!

So, after being completely and utterly obsessed with Jujutsu Kaisen and AOT season 4, I decided to check out MAPPA studios and watch a bunch of stuff from their roster. My so-called "MAPPA binge" included this strange and unknown piece: Katsute Kami Datta Kemono-tachi e, or in English, To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts. An adaption of a manga originally released in Bessatsu Shounen (you might recognize this as the magazine that released Attack on Titan!), it looked pretty promising. I do have to admit that I didn't read a page of this anime's manga, though the art style on it looks gorgeous!!

The concept behind the show: A war has torn two halves of a nation apart, split into the North and the South. The Northerners, who were previously greatly outnumbered in battle, created a half-human, half-beast species known as "Incarnates" because of their God-like abilities. But the Incarnates begin having some issues when their beast forms take over their bodies, turning them into monsters. When the war ends, our protagonist, Hugh Hank, an Incarnate and previous captain of the Incarnate squad, swears to kill all of his mutating Incarnate buddies before they can destroy the world.

This review will not contain spoilers until the labeled "Spoiler" section at the bottom.

In general, what do I think?: 4/10, this show kinda sucked. Ouch! I hate being that blunt! Especially on my first review here! But To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts (let's call it TTASB from here on out!) had glaring flaws that, while it did hold up as a show, made it uninteresting and hard to love. Not only were the characters mediocre and boring, but the show seemed to contradict itself and its own opinion of the Incarnates all the time! Are they bloodthirsty monsters that need to be killed? Are they misunderstood humans who should be given peace? I don't know! Our main characters don't seem to either! Other than the "war bad" motif that gets shoved down your throat from episode one, the show felt stagnant in what it was trying to make the audience feel.

I hate being so cynical about it, though, because it does still earn those 4 points! Even though a lot of it falls flat, as a whole, it's still an ok show! Hank and Schaal have good concepts and their dilemmas are interesting in certain parts when the writers manage to nail pits and pieces of their development! The fight scenes were cool and I think that the concept for the world was neat! And the show does have a pretty cool title. Let's be honest, To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts sounds super metal.

So what about those characters?: 5/10! Hugh Hank and Schaal are our two main protags for the show, and they both have pretty interesting concepts! Hank is an Incarnate, he used to be the leader of the other Incarnates, and he made a vow with them that when they lost their minds, he would kill them himself. Schaal is the daughter of one of these Incarnates that fought under Hank. Interesting, right?! How could these two opposing characters get along with one another?

TTASB tries to give the two of them a sort of grumpy-old-mentor-teaches-a-cheery-youngster relationship (which, admittedly, is one of my favorite tropes) and manages to forget everything good about having this kind of relationship. To start, it feels like Schaal has next to no reason to be tolerating Hank, and vice versa. She follows him around because *insert some excuse about understanding the Incarnates?* and Hank lets her because *insert I really don't know*. It really feels like Schaal doesn't need to be there, and she's just a plot device to move along Hank's character development.

Then, the two of them never really interact in ways that really moved me. It never felt like they made a deeper connection that meant something to the plot. They interacted, sure. They spoke about their issues, yeah. But it never felt like Hank needed Schaal, or that Schaal was emotionally tied to Hank, until the show spoonfed it to you that they were.

In the end, neither of their developments felt compelling or interesting. There were a few scenes that maybe, if you squinted, hinted towards them growing as people, but for a 12 episode anime, it was very menial. It also felt like said scenes were fairly forced, with their development not really leading them to the point that they ended up at. Again, TTASB has a bit of an issue with contradicting itself.

The villain was so meh. He has a motive, yeah. It's pretty lame. He's not compelling at all. Nothing about him is interesting or kept me hooked on him. The show probably could've existed without him, to be entirely honest. I don't really have much else to say about him! I just did not really care about him at all.

The best characters in the show are hands-down the supporting cast of Incarnates. Each one has fairly interesting motivations, and even though they're only given an episode or so to tell their stories, they feel the most genuine. My biggest qualm with them is that the show doesn't build their connection to Hugh Hank at all, so when he gets emotional over them, you're kind of like "uhhh u know this guy??". More about this down in our spoilers section, as I'll go over a scene where this is prominent.

So characters were meh, but what about the story itself?: 4/10, just as meh. Again, very interesting! Lots of potential! But it fell flat where it mattered. To be clear, just before we dig deeper: the 12 episodes of TTASB isn't the entire story. It's clearly intended to be continued, though, as of writing this, I haven't been able to dig up any news about a potential season 2.

I don't really mind if animes aren't completely original, as long as they're fun, but TTASB didn't really do that. A lot of the episodes felt boring and reused like it was a watered-down copy-paste of other material. Some episodes were repetitive and seemed to be trying to hammer in the same themes, only to be later contradicted by other episodes. TTASB will spend a few episodes showing you how misunderstood and sweet the Incarnates are and then have an episode where an Incarnate murders a bunch of people. I would love it if it was, in any way, shape, or form, sarcastic, but it is not. TTASB just thinks it can get away with the blatant disregarding of its own morals. It only ends up feeling disconnecting and frustrating.

It follows an almost monster-of-the-week style format for introducing the Incarnates, which does them a bit of a disservice, in my opinion. I really would have liked it if there was a bit more overlap between the Incarnates and their stories! We know that they're all very close (or, at least, the show tells us that they are without really showing us) so seeing them interact with one another outside of their respective episode would've been fun!

The story tries to be darker and grimier than it actually is. I didn't end up caring much for the nation itself and much of the politics that the show tried to utilize felt boring and, again, watered-down. It felt like the show wanted to make it a political drama about war and human rights and only ended up shying away from what makes those genres impactful. Again, this isn't to say that TTASB's story is bad, it's just not as good as it could've been.

But it's MAPPA, so the art has to be good, right?: Yeah! Art was cool! Nothing golden, like MAPPA's newer stuff, but a solid 7/10! The fight scenes were nice, and even though a lot of them felt redundant to watch, they were still smooth! I have some qualms about a few of the Incarnates' beast forms (especially Hank's) looking like they belong back in 2001, but they still looked cool nonetheless.

I don't really have much to say on this front! Nothing really blew me away, but I never looked at the screen and winced away.

Ok and finally, pacing!: 4/10. 12 episode animes always have tricky pacing to them. I like to think about the show being pretty much only 5 hours long, which isn't that much time to cram in as much story and plot as they might want to. Overall, TTASB actually had pretty decent pacing, with a long enough build-up that led to a final showdown. If you ask me, I do think there was a pacing problem in the second half, as it felt far too stretched out, but that could've just been my perception of it.

My biggest issue with pacing loops back to the characters again. They're never really given time to explore or build up relationships. Especially not Hank and his prior team of Incarnates. I think that there should've been more screen time dedicated to their time in the army, to better explain the emotional distress that he's going through as he's forced to hunt them down. Instead, TTASB relies on a throwaway line or scene to deliver this emotional blow, and it nearly always falls flat.

Music!!!!: 6/10, The soundtrack in this anime really wasn't memorable and I don't remember much from it. Whoops!

I did like the opening a bit! It was done by Mafumafu, who I think has done a Pokemon intro song? Either way, it was energetic and fit the theme of the show well! The ending is also a bop, now that I'm thinking about it! It manages to be nostalgic and sad without being too slow! So good music on both fronts!!

OK, now we're in spoiler territory! Be warned!

I don't have too much to say regarding spoilers. Nothing in the show really feels important enough that I have to mention it under a spoiler tag. A few small notes, I suppose.

The show treats Hank like the more important character but then throws him away in his "death" to focus on Schaal, which was a very frustrating episode. Schaal felt so bland and useless in it, even when she faced her father again. Bringing him back to life felt like a sad excuse to force her into character development. I did like it when she found the courage to shoot him, but I also thought that it wasn't really as emotional as the show wanted it to be.

Hank's connection with Schaal, particularly in the second half, feels completely unnatural and forced. When she gets kidnapped, he has some sort of mental breakdown over her and it, if anything, felt creepy. It was undeserved and was forced down your throat rather than built.

Beatrice was the best character in the show and I think that if they stuck to ideas like hers (misunderstood creatures who just want to go back to their old lives), the story would have been much better. Instead, you switch to characters like the Gargoyle Incarnate, who just goes on a murder spree, and it ruins a lot of the development that Beatrice brought to the table.

& our deep deep look at one part: Forgive me if I get this screwed up a bit, it's been a weekish since I finished the show and my brain dumped out all details of it already.

Hugh Hank goes to the mountains and fights the Garmr Incarnate, Rex (Roy? I'm a bit confused on his name), in an epic show-down. Obviously, at the end of it, Hank wins, killing Rex. Now, if you're like me, you sat there for most of the fight going "who tf is Rex and why is this battle important?" and only at the very END, when he's dying, do you see a clip that you might remember from the very beginning of the anime, with Rex talking about Schaal. You go "oohhh I know who he is!" but you wished that you remembered this ten minutes ago when the fight started because it would've been so much more impactful. The show didn't remind you of this scene. It didn't tell you that Rex was this same person that you already met. It expected you to remember, and I didn't. This scene sums up a lot of the character problems with the show, where even if something does have emotional weight, the show doesn't act on it.

Now we're done!: Sorry if this was harsh, but that's my full review on To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts! I'd love to hear if you agree with me or think that I'm totally wrong! If you've read the manga, tell me if it's better or worth a read! And thanks for reading!

(The crossed-out "Hugh"s are all of the times that I got Hank's name wrong! I'm not super great with character names, but I always take it as a bad sign when I screw up the name. )

#anime #mappa #studio mappa #to the abandoned sacred beasts #to the abandoned sacred beasts anime #review #anime review

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harcourtholmesii · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Fog

Tumblr Request by: Der-Mottenmann

Request: Ok so can I kinda request a Jason Todd and Cheryl mason pair up. Like Jason goes in the entitiy realm and there they meet?

Notes: Admittedly, I was not expecting a crossover as my first request, but I was excited to give this one a shot. Not once has it ever come to my head to write a DC x Dead by Daylight crossover before. It was tricky, but I do hope you like the story!

Words: 2102

Warnings:

- Swearing

- Disturbing Imagery

- Blood and Gore

- Implied/Referenced Death of a Main Character

- Death

- Violence

- Vomiting/Sickness

Enjoy!

His head was pounding. Blinding white light filled his vision, and the heat produced burned through Jason’s senses. His nerves were on fire, and standing was an unimaginably painful ordeal, akin to only one previous experience. The acidic burn of the Lazarus effects ran rivers through his veins, as if reminding him of that horrid experience. It seemed almost fuelled by something.

Standing, Jason was surrounded by dark woods in every direction, his vision framed by twisted oaks and pines with outstretched, groping branches. Lifting his eyes to the sky, he could see a shine of moonlight, but the pearl was hidden by thick blankets of cloud. This whole place… it didn’t make any sense.

He had last been in Gotham, leaping from rooftop to gargoyle, grapple hook and gun in hand. He had been hot on the trail of some drug traffickers; some new group that thought they were hot shit. He knew the Bat would be on it, but he wasn’t about to leave these guys unpunished. He still had the photographs of those teenagers; young and callous, all just wanting to experiment. The gang made quick work of them when they didn’t pay up.

There was a crack of a twig underfoot, and Jason was on edge. He turned, realising his helmet’s in-built monitoring systems were fried. They sparked around his head, and the feeling burned. He smacked his metal hood, but it did little to fix the picture.

He moved forward, on edge and prepared for anything. Take it slow, be methodical. He couldn’t afford to be injured now or caught off guard, especially since he must have been before when someone had abducted him and dumped him out here. His breath heaved deep within his throat, far too loud for Jason’s liking. Perhaps he had suffered from an injury he was unfamiliar with. Apart from the Lazarus’ acidic heat and the pain behind his eyes, he didn’t feel much different.

He had reached the path where he had heard movement. He found the stick, broken in half, and half a footprint in the dirt. The sole of some sneaker or boots. It was a light form, that much he could tell, and rather small. He followed it closely, and from here, he scanned the surrounding area. The mainframe sparked.

He could just barely make out a hand, resting lightly against the wood of a tree, bloodied and bruised knuckles on display. Pale skin and a frail arm from what he could determine. He approached, and that hand hurriedly removed itself from the tree trunk. He could just make out the shape of a body behind the tree standing from a crouched position.

A head of straw, blonde hair had turned the tree, but Jason only got a good look at their grey-green eyes, pink around the edges as if they had been crying. Those eyes had widened at his notice, and suddenly, the girl was running in the opposite direction.

‘Wait!’ He called out. He could barely understand himself through the damaged helm. His voice was warped; a mess of a human cry and a deep reverb from the whirring of the helmet’s struggling functions. She didn’t wait. If anything, she picked up the pace.

He didn’t wish to cause her further alarm, but she could probably tell him where he was. He didn’t much care for children, but he didn’t want to scare her. He was on her tail in a moment, coming up on her quickly. They were coming upon some damaged, brick ruins when she passed through a gap. His hand was out, reaching for her. If he could just stop her, he could talk to her and explain himself.

There was the sudden pain of something striking him across the head. Splinters of wood and nail flew in an arc above his shoulders, as a haphazardly crafted pallet of sorts came down upon him. Okay. He was getting a bit pissed now. He raised his right leg high in a strong arc, bringing it down and destroying the pallet in a single kick.

He looked about the ruins, wondering for a moment as to where she could disappear to. A red locker stood to his right, but he couldn’t hear any breathing or creaking wood. She wasn’t there. He stepped forward, until he came to an open window space. He reached down suddenly, gripping a head of blonde hair in his gloved hand and pulling the child up into view.

Confusion struck him immediately upon realising that this was a teenager or young adult. She was holding her head, trying to relieve the pain his grip had on her scalp. She was panicked, chest rising fervently. He let her go, climbing through the window carefully after her. She stepped back, nursing her temples, eyes wide and watching his every move.

‘Who are you?’ Again, his voice was a confused mess of sound, the volume apparently louder than she would have like. Her hands were to her ears, and she was stepping back away from him.

‘D-Don’t come any closer!’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

It seemed that she thought differently. She was turned away and running at full tilt in the opposite direction. He just didn’t understand it. How had he grown, and how on Earth was his helmet this damaged? He felt sweat building under his gloves, and gave himself a moment of reprieve. However, Jason was astounded by the sight of what lay underneath.

His hands were their pale white, but his veins were alight, bright green and seemingly shifting underneath his skin. What the fuck was this?!

A scream cut his thoughts off. Then the sound of a chainsaw.

~X~

It was a new one. Another one! She had to inform the others. She didn’t understand why it didn’t give chase, but that thing watched her leave. The sparking of that red, metallic mask and the pulse of green veins on the neck made her sick. Cheryl had no idea what that thing was, but like Hell was she going to wait for an explanation.

She was running blindly through the woods, she had almost completely forgotten what she had been hiding from in the first place. That was, until she stumbled upon that freak’s handiwork. She tripped over an obstruction in the dirt, peering down to the sight of Jane’s top half. She was missing part of her midsection, where a chainsaw’s blade had rattled through and split her down the middle.

The red seeped over Cheryl’s legs, dying them that awful colour. She was on her feet, struggling to hold in her stomach’s contents. She held her hands tight to her lips, trying to prevent sick or a scream from passing them. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She screamed.

‘Shshshsh-Shush!’ It was Dwight, in her face and holding a finger to his lips. His glasses were broken, but it was the pool of scarlet in his shoulder that concerned her. ‘W-We need to go!’ His voice was hushed; frantic. Cheryl nodded.

‘T-There’s another-’

‘Don’t worry about that one! Worry abou-’ There was the telltale rattle of a chainsaw’s engine. They ducked down behind a few bushes, looking up in time to see that face with taut skin pulled across svelte muscle. The sunken, dark eyes stared at them, and there was that growl deep within its throat. The chainsaw swung high above their heads, just grazing Cheryl’s shoulder. She cried out.

‘Run!’ Dwight didn’t have to tell her twice. She was back on her feet and racing to the nearest bricked gym. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. She vaulted through a gap in the wall, cringing at the sound of metal shredding through brick. Red dust swirled into the air and sparks flew high at the collision.

He climbed through the wall after her, and though she was ahead, the revving chainsaw grew louder in her ear, until he was upon her. She felt it imbed itself into her back, and was removed just as quickly. It always astounded her how the hillbilly managed to remove it before permanent damage was done. It was almost a sick and twisted form of art.

She raised her head, looking around for Dwight. Where was he?! Her voice was weak. She cried out when those unwanted arms reached down and around her. Through the pain, she only just realised that piece of shrapnel Laurie had given her earlier fell from her pocket. There was no getting out of this.

‘H-Hel-!’ Her voice cracked. She could barely think through the pain. That arm pulled tight over her back, and no matter how weakly her fists pounded against flesh, he wasn’t letting go.

‘Help!’ She tried again. A little louder.

Suddenly, there was a roar from her captor, and she was on the ground. She whipped her head around, in time to see that freakish monster from before standing between her and the hillbilly. Knife raised, she could see those acidic green veins pulsing on his hands. She didn’t understand.

There was a bellowing reverb from behind that mask, and suddenly they were clashing. The hillbilly’s arms swung a wide arc with the chainsaw, and the red hooded creature leapt back. He leapt forward, striking with the blade until the hilt dug deep into the right shoulder. Cheryl noted a gun on its right hip; it was removed from its holster and hastily, three shots were fired.

There was another roar from the hillbilly, as a bullet shredded through its cheek, a bullet digging deep into its eye and the hand that gripped the chainsaw. He dropped it. Cheryl scrambled back and away from the two giants as they did battle. She had never seen this before. It was… unprecedented.

The hillbilly pulled up his hammer, dropping the chainsaw and starting on wide swings of his weapon. One collided into the ribs of the second monster, and there was a warped cry through the scratch of metal. The hillbilly’s taut skin pulled back around his mouth, as if laughing. Suddenly, that laugh was cut short by a crack of a gunshot.

The hillbilly dropped, a single, explosive bullet hole leaving behind an opening the size of Cheryl’s fist in the monster’s forehead. Skull fragments and brain matter had spread about in all directions. This time, Cheryl did throw up.

She felt her body wretch and force up the few things she had eaten in the last day, and through it all, one of those large hands rested gently upon her back. Once she was finished spewing, she raised her gaze up at the red hooded creature, and felt those strong arms gather her up, cradling her.

There was a bellow of sound, and she rose her hands to her ears, desperate to shut out the reverb and shrieking metal. It stopped as suddenly as it started. Through the damaged helm, she could see one, burning green eye. Unlike all the other killers, masked or otherwise, she could see those eyes held something she had never seen before. At least, nothing she had seen in a killer’s gaze.

‘Cheryl!’ Dwight’s voice echoed out from his position, and he exited from a locker. He was panicked, watching her with wide eyes. He kept his distance, but she could see how he was trying to get the creature’s attention.

‘Stop! Dwight, please!’ She looked up at the creature. Those eyes that had shifted to the injured Dwight had returned to her. They were patient.

‘A-Are you going to hurt me?’ It shook its head.

‘Cheryl, you know we can’t t-trust it!’

‘Shut up!’ She barked back. She soothed her temper with a deep breath, looking past his broad shoulders and down at the collapsed body of the hillbilly. She knew he would be back. They always were. But for now… The monster was gone.

‘Are you g-going to help-p us?’

He nodded again, and started walking forward towards Dwight. When Dwight skirted away, Cheryl threw the cowering man a threatening look. The man held his position, though it seemed like he was about to piss himself. She turned her eyes back up to the creature.

‘O-Our hideout is t-t-that way.’ She said, gesturing past Dwight and deep into the trees. The creature didn’t pay Dwight much mind as he passed him, and headed deep into the woods. He did slow down so the man could catch up, but he kept Cheryl tight in his arms. He didn’t let her down for a moment.

And yet, Cheryl never felt safer.

#fanfiction #fanfic #DC #Red Hood #Jason Todd #Dead by Daylight #DBD #Cheryl Mason #Dwight Fairfield #Jane Romero #Laurie Strode #The Hillbilly #crossover #HarcourtHolmesII

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of the Coin (7)

Chapter 7: Comfort in the Midst of Irony | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 | Previous: Part 6 | Next: Part 8 | Masterlist

7 of ?

Cal had just gotten back out into the open and found the river that divides the town from the jungle where he came from. He knelt by the bank, scooping up cold freshwater and splashing it into his face, scraping himself clean off the sweat and dirt. He used the last handful of water to comb his scarlet hair using his bare fingers.

He finally crosses the bridge, upon his entrance into the town, he was greeted with the colors spread across from each end of the street, hollers of vendors and haggling buyers rung loud between the walls of the buildings. Stall owners gesture at Cal to at least look at their wares, he politely dismisses them as he passes them by.

“Be careful not to overheat your scanners, BD!” Cal beamed, knowing that the curious little BD-1 is going to scan everything left and right as they go.

“Woop, trill! Chirp.”

“Yeah, this place sure is pretty,”

“Boo! Trill, beep!”

“Oh, you meant Jidné? Yeah, she is kinda pretty,”

Cal wandered off farther into the town, the thought of the Force ripple and Jidné ran tirelessly around his mind. He recalled the nudging sensation that he’s gotten ever since he and the crew landed, then the feeling spiked when he discovered Jidné—more so when she took his hand to help her stand up. The image of her constantly flashed behind his eyes—the shy smile that responded to his awfully awkward one-liners and quips burned into his memory, the melody of her voice, and the way she moved with her lightsaber.

Looking back, he rarely—in fact, never—encountered another Padawan who wielded a purple blade. The only person he knew who did was Master Windu.

Cal found himself into a modest-looking pub, light instrumentals filled the establishment as its patrons chattered amongst themselves over their drinks. He regretted that he didn’t wear the kind of poncho that had a hood; fortunately for him, no one seemed to have noticed the boy come in the bar. Cal scanned the place and saw no sign of Stormtroopers doing patrol, he sighed in relief.

“Something mild,” he orders to the bartender.

While waiting for the bartender to work on it, Cal surveyed the place again—the cantina was filled with so many species that he couldn’t name them all. The humans were also bizarre-looking: cosmetic implants attached to certain parts of their bodies, hair dyed in outlandish colors that match or complement their facial tattoos, with matching makeup on their eyes and lips to boot—especially the women.

The bartender slid Cal’s glass towards him, to which the boy halted the sliding with the cushion of his palm. The first sip was always the strongest one, no matter the alcohol level, a hot sensation seared his palate; he smacked his tongue against the insides of his cheeks until the fizz leaves his mouth. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a Haxion Brood hunter and the HURID droid; before they’d spot him back, Cal slightly angled his body so the back of his head faces them—though it doesn’t help him much because his red hair was the only defining feature they know to identify him.

Cal scooted a bit closer next to a Talz, hoping that the size of the creature would shield him from the hunters’ sights. It worked, but only for a moment. He had to move quick. He left his glass half-empty, slipped a gold credit to the bartender, and attempts to vanish in the pub. Little did he know that the hunters noticed him turn his back to leave the bar; he sensed them following him, so he briskly walked towards the denser crowd to blend in and lose the hunters at the same time.

“There he is!” the human hunter pointed with his bionic hand.

Both hunters shouldered their way through the crowd in the marketplace, especially the HURID droid who practically plowed his way through the people—it’s highly likely that the people he’s shoved and push will have a bruise pop out of them any day after that—meanwhile, Cal was careful in going through the crowd, matching their pace, regretting some more that he didn’t wear the hooded type of poncho.

“Out of my way!” the HURID droid bellowed, pushing away a local who stumbled upon the stall he was browsing at.

Cal picked up his pace while continuously mumbling “Pardon me” and “Excuse me” to the people he shoulders through. When he got into a wide space, enough for him to run, he bolted through the market’s streets—it didn’t take long until he came across another wave of people filling the road. He didn’t slow down for that though, he continued to run, looking over his shoulder from time to time—as consequence, he bumped into a stranger as he ran and they stumbled to the ground together.

From the fall, the cowl revealed its owner to be Jidné.

“Cal?”

“Jidné?”

Jidné groaned as she rubbed the back of her head, Cal’s brain was going haywire—deciding whether to bolt away and miss Jidné or simply hide with her tagging along against her will.

“Where is he!?” the HURID droid roared, drowned amongst the crowd.

There was no time for questions, Cal chose the latter option that his brain made in the last minute. He snatched her wrist as soon as she sat up and dragged her along. They crawled towards a market stall, sitting into a tucked position as their backs hug the wooden planks that make up the kiosk’s wall.

“What’s going on?” Jidné whispered.

“Shh!”

Cal braced her with his entire arm, both of them huddled together to the dust—just so they’re in the same height as the short-fenced market stall. Jidné was startled with the entire rough-and-tumble but she immediately knew what Cal was trying to pull.

The stampeding footsteps of the Haxion Brood hunter and his HURID companion approached their spot, they stopped just a few inches past the stall; both the young Jedi and the bounty hunter stuck their backs against the wooden planks more—both youngsters were frozen in place as they couldn’t look away from their pursuers, Jidné’s eyes fixed on the two goons, the human hunter was scanning the area. Not waiting for that hunter to turn his head to their direction, Jidné clutched for Cal’s arm on her shoulder and then put all of her focus on using her ability.

“What was that?!” the hunter snarled, abruptly twirling to face Jidné and Cal’s general direction.

Cal’s felt his heart fall to his feet when he met eyes with the hunter, but it occurred to him that the hunter apparently cannot see them. He swears that he’s face-to-face with the Brood hunter right now! The hunter is literally one step away from him, he shuddered at how close he is with the enemy but the Brood agent isn’t doing anything.

Cal looked to his side and saw the steely expression in Jidné’s face, he felt her hand around his, she afforded a quick side-eye as she caught him staring at her—he was beginning to grasp that she was doing this.

“You see ‘im, Fazer?” asked the bruiser droid.

The human hunter, Fazer, squinted his eyes and panned that one empty nook right beside the market stall.

“Argh! Nah, probably just a vermin or somethin’ I heard,” he grumbled.

“He must’ve went that way!” the droid pointed to their direction up ahead and then darted through.

Soon the footsteps receded, Jidné didn’t remove her hand from Cal’s until there was no sight of that pair. She scrambled to her feet, still crouched to the same level as the market stalls, and then peeked out into the street while ignoring the startled locals looking between them and the two hunters running ahead.

“I think they’re gone,” she turned around to Cal, still seated on the dust, mouth gaped open as he still tried to comprehend what happened seconds ago.

“How did…?” he mumbled. It was so quiet that Jidné didn’t hear it as she checked out their surroundings.

“You seem like you have a knack for attracting trouble.”

“Yeah well, there’s a bounty on my head for being a Jedi. The group that’s after me isn’t exactly the friendliest bunch,”

Jidné bit her lip. The whole thing is so uncanny that it hurt her on the inside.

“Right,” she hummed as casually as she could.

When the coast was truly clear, Cal brought himself up his feet and dusted off the yellow sand that clumped on his jacket and pants.

“Sorry, I kinda dragged you in there for a moment,”

“Wait, did you think those Haxion goons were gonna come after me too—that’s why you pulled me in with you?”

“Yeah, I…” Cal was patting off the dust from his sleeve until it occurred to him, he jerked his head to face Jidné. “Wait. How’d you know they were Haxion?”

Oh fuck! Jidné’s conscience screamed so loud that her mouth nearly replicated the words.

“I had my own run-ins with them,” she shrugged her shoulders. She nodded at the alley on her left. “Come on, this way should be safer. Less open, more hidden.”

Jidné led Cal into the narrow annex of the main road, doors lined the walls—assuming that this was another residential area that sits behind the business establishments—and worked their way out of the crowded part of town.

“You got yourself into a bar fight or something?” Jidné blurted.

“No, I was just out to get a drink until I spotted them—I guess they spotted me when I was about to leave,”

“Sounds like you haven’t truly mastered the art of subtlety,” she clapped back.

“Hold on,” he pressed. “What was that just now?”

“The what?”

“That!” Cal gestures at the space behind him, but Jidné knew what he exactly meant. “You saw the hunter, he was literally right in front of us! But… he didn’t see us? That couldn’t be me—I’m sure as hell that that’s not me!”

Jidné was calm, completely the opposite definition of Cal’s hysteria. She sighed. There’s no escape for her with these kinds of questions again.

“I don’t think this is the best place to explain, don’t you think so too?” quipped the young hunter.

Cal surveyed the area, residents standing outside their homes—for reasons unknown—and children playing in the narrow annex with their balls and playthings laid out on the road. Some of the folks have already noticed the two of them standing awkwardly together by the wall.

“Alright, I suppose you lead the way then?”

“Just stay close,” she sternly instructed.

——————————————————–

The intricate network of roads, annexes, and alleys in the town of Ombari was confusing, but if one knew the landmarks and kept it in mind, then it would be easier to navigate through the town. Jidné and Cal passed through some intersections here and there, they were looking for a spot that wasn’t too crowded—a few people wouldn’t be a bother, Jidné only preferred to have less people around and Cal concurred with that.

Cal kept his questions to himself. As they go along, more and more questions pile up in his mind—particularly, questions about Jidné herself.

They found themselves in the base of the hill where the town was situated. There were more small-time businesses lining up the path just right in front of the main entrance, but farmers and tillers mostly resided at the stretch of landed where they had plotted their modest farms and vegetable gardens. Their harvests were already in display for those who wanted to buy, they were no different from the vendors in the town proper though—except the noise wasn’t a factor in their part.

“That spot by the riverbank looks okay,” Jidné nodded at her north, gesturing at the river gleaming underneath the afternoon sun.

She and Cal sat on the other side of the river, across the hill where they could observe the farmers till and plow their crops, underneath the shade of the trees that framed along the winding river.

Both of them were getting tired—or perhaps, fed up—with the same old silence that always hung heavily around them, no matter the space in between, it’s always there. Neither of them saw it a sign for either of them to start a conversation.

“So, about what happened back in the marketplace?” Cal prompted.

Jidné exhaled and prepared herself.

“Can you like… cloak anything or anyone?” he added.

“When you put it that way, yeah,” she looked at him in the eye, then her eyes wandered to her own hands. “At first, it was simply just activating and deactivating it—in a way—it was hard for little ol’ me that time. I was fresh out of the Initiate Trials back then.”

Cal didn’t avert his gaze from Jidné, he shifted between examining her hands and then to her whenever she spoke.

“But now that I’m older—even back then when I was still a Padawan—I learned how to wield it better. I can manipulate how transparent I want things or people to appear, whether they’d be as thin as smoke or as invisible as the air we breathe.”

“Do you really need to touch in order to make things almost or completely invisible?”

Jidné clenched her fist, “It makes it easier for me if I do, and the area of effect varies too. Not touching them but still focusing on my target can have them be under the influence of my Force Shroud, but only for a time. Whereas being in physical contact, it’s the same—except twice or thrice as better. It all boils down to a matter of distance, really.”

He let all of that information sink into him, trying to grasp how Jidné’s Force ability worked. It wasn’t difficult to understand, though he could imagine the possibilities if one could master such a power.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of another Jedi with an ability like that,”

“My master thought the same thing,” her tone became more somber at the memory.

Cal’s next question might be one of the most personal ones, but he had a feeling that his master might have known hers. Regardless, he put that question for another time—he figured it might have been a topic too heavy for her, considering that she was also a Jedi who must’ve lost everything.

And lost everything she did.

“So, you got anything special in you too, ginger?” she initiated.

Instead of using words, Cal searched for a target—any target. He spotted a pile of shards from earthenware that beached onto the shore of the river, hidden well between the reeds; he scooted closer to the shard pile and hovered his hand over it. Jidné watched and she could feel the slight ripple send out a weak shockwave and a gust of wind.

“These pots were used by farmers to ferment the grain and wheat into some kind of liquid. They collected water to continue the fermentation process, but some wild animals jumped on them and broke them,” Cal explained.

Impressed, Jidné flicked her eyebrows up at Cal, who seemed proud of his little demonstration and proved it with a smirk across his lips.

“I think I’ve read about a power like that a long time ago. You touch an object and you get a glimpse of its past… A Force Echo.”

“Exactly,”

“Interesting,” she hummed, a smile involuntarily curled along her lips.

For a moment, Jidné forgot that she was a bounty hunter. The feeling of having someone to connect with something familiar from a distant past was intoxicating. She and Cal continued to banter about topics that weren’t exactly correlated with one another—for instance, their own droids.

Jidné told Cal the story of finding ID-3 in a disposal bin. She was expertly vague in leaving out some details that could go unnoticed. She recalled the time when she took a look at ID, he was apparently still in tiptop shape—all he needed was a circuit wire replacement and a good power recharge.

“The poor thing wasn’t exactly given the right attention,” Jidné cooed, petting ID-3’s flat-topped head. “So I patched him and now he’s mine!”

“What else did you do to ID-3?”

“Oh, just added some little perks and tweaks that might come in handy sooner or later. The little saucer never failed me so far,”

The black droid chirped happily, absorbing all of the compliments that poured out of Jidné’s mouth and she truly meant them.

Cal and Jidné whiled away the afternoon bantering some more and letting their droids get to know with one another. This was one of the rare moments where Jidné allowed herself to let loose—although the moment was lighthearted and happy, she couldn’t ignore the irony that gleamed blindingly in front of her face: the irony that such comfort is coming from the exact person that she is hunting down.

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cynthiaandsamus · 3 years

Text

Custom Toonami Block Week 54 Rundown!

Code Geass: Lelouch tries to make Suzaku Nunally’s knight since he’s already planning on distancing himself from her and as shown in the previous episode and R2 basically nothing can stop the Lelouch/Suzaki teamup. However during Tohdoh’s rescue they find out Suzaku’s been piloting Lancelot the whole time and Lelouch breaks down and has his first Kira Laugh of the series. Meanwhile instead of being Nunally’s knight, Suzaku because Euphemia’s knight while she blows off the art contest she’s supposed to be judging (I mean she never puts the flower on any art and instead says she wants Suzaku so I guess Suzaku won the art contest, he’s art now).

Inuyasha: The Togenkyo retelling continues and Kagome is stripped naked and thrown in a bath for purely plot-related reasons and not because stories in this part of the series had a Kagome’s tits quota to fulfill. Anyway tits aside, Inuyasha reflects on Tokajin’s distaste for human fragility and his own frustrations with his human form but rejects the easy path to power the fake sage promises, reflecting him rejecting using the jewel to become a full demon later. Because this is later in the series in the anime we have to end it with a sword kamehameha so yeah, the tree absorbs Tokajin and becomes a super demon and Inuyasha just Wind Scars it because it doesn’t matter how strong you art, Wind Scars are OP and just destroy 90% of the villains in this series.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Everyone’s getting kind of sick of Yusuke’s tsundere attitude towards Keiko so they say they need some more explicit expression of love in order to give Yusuke his life back. Meanwhile Yusuke’s house catches on fire and Keiko the absolute baller runs in to a burning building to save Yusuke’s corpse but Yusuke has to use his spirit egg deal to make sure the fire doesn’t kill her too. It’s really cool and all that Yusuke barely has to think about this but really he didn’t have much choice anyway because if Keiko died in the fire his body would burn up and he wouldn’t be able to return anyway. Even though it doesn’t last long the scene where everyone’s rejoicing about Yusuke coming back to live juxtaposed with Yusuke not being able to tell them he threw away his only chance to come back to save Keiko is really heartbreaking. But Koenma says Yusuke may be a bitch but he’s our bitch so he can come back anyway. Luckily next episode has him come back for real because this whole ‘I legit can’t talk to people to solve simple problems’ as the whole plot setup is starting to get old.

Unlimited Blade Works: So now that Rin and Shirou both have no historical figure shaped plot armor their next strategy is to go find the strongest guy around and be their best friend, which just so happens to be a little girl and her personal Hulk. But conveniently enough Gilgamesh gets there JUST before them and is prepared to fight them off with his Unlimited Butt Works. Also Caster’s backstory is kind of sad but she’s still a major bitch, like she doesn’t care that her former guy was pulping children, but that he was doing it badly. And then she sends him back in time and sets him on fire or some shit, this’d probably be all symbolic if I remembered more of Jason & the Argonauts from High School but Medea always was my favorite character from it so idk.

Panty and Stocking: Panty and Stocking infilitrate a high school and spend most of their time trying on fetish outfits until they trip over a double whammy of Barbie/Bee puns in the form of teenage Gainax Lusamine and they shoot her and shit. Also Panty legit has no boundary so she shows her sex tape off to everyone ruining her weird out of nowhere uncomfortably Hollywood celebrity status and Stocking saves her ass but the show can’t decide if Panty is a super bitch or just a minor bitch so she fucks over Stocking again and then youtube happens. The real miracle is that Panty only made one sex tape in her life to spread around or this episode would be twice as long. Also Briefs is here.

FMA Brotherhood: Mrs. Bradley succeeds in unknowingly convincing the public that Mustang’s revolution is legitimate because Mrs. Bradley is the most powerful FMA character, she doesn’t even need a first name she’s that strong. The main group meets up with Envy and Mustang finally gets to grill him (lol) about Hughes’s death. Envy learns what type matchups are all about and also that he’s weak to fire and should shut up while he’s ahead.

Attack on Titan: Zeke considers to be an insufferable arrogant jerk as the Beast Titan while he continues to treat this mass slaughter of Eldians he supposedly wants to revive the empire of as another day at the batting cage. Bertoldt punts Eren back over the wall which is still unintentionally hilarious and Erwin commands a bunch of innocent kids and Floch to ride to their deaths so Levi can not even kill Zeke but at least wipe the smug smirk off his face, still kinda worth it.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #Code Geass #Inuyasha #Yu Yu Hakusho #Unlimited Blade Works #Panty and Stocking #FMA Brotherhood #Attack on Titan

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liliseestheworld · 4 years

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Bus seat warmer-Han Jisung

summary: drunk and cold after a night out, you just wanted some warmth. what happens when that warmth has to get off at the next stop though?

Ok it’s my first writing so any constructive criticism is welcomed. Also, english is not my first language so pardon my mistakes pls.

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Whoever decided that plastic bus seats shouldn’t have pillows should have a word or two with you. You just sat down, hoping for a warm and quiet 50 minutes ride back to your flat. Instead, you were in for 50 minutes of butt freezing. Great! You knew that going out for drinks with your friends was a bad idea. But the thought of your best friend getting mad at you+ the opportunity to dance, have a lot of vodka and meet cute guys made you say yes.

You chose a pretty popular club that your friend was a regular at. It was pretty far from home, however the drinks were really cheap so you could still save some up for rent.

The night started just fine, drank a shot, then two, danced a little bit, then drank some more; laughing with your friends and being besties with people you just met.

By midnight, you started getting hot and mentally high-fived yourself for your choice of clothing: ripped black skinny jeans, brown crop top with a cute print and a tiny black denim jacket. As you continued to dance, you got pretty tired and, by the time the morning came and the club doors were closing, you were sitting by the sidewalk to finish your last drink. After all, you paid for it.

When you were done, you said goodbye to your friends and began walking towards the bus stop. One of them offered to drive you home but you refused. It was 5 something in the am so the first bus was bound to arrive soon. No need for them to take a detour to drop you off. Actually long bus rides were one of the few activities you actually enjoyed. Especially in really late or really early hours. It was just something abouth watching the city from afar; you were a part of those wandering around in the silent streets, but at the same time, you were not. You were only observing.

As the drunkness began to fade away, you realized you were shaking. You sat down on the bench and waited patiently while hugging yourself to keep the heat from escaping your body. As you were fighting sleep the bus arrived and you got on quickly, imagining you’d be better once you’re inside it. Your dreams of a cozy ride were immediately crushed once you sat down in the cold seat.

And here you were now, cursing your government with your still dizzy mind. Thinking about TOP’s song ‘Tear in my heart’ which had these exact lyrics, you softly began humming the song. The seat was still really cold even after 10 minutes into the ride so you lost hope for your precious comfortable ride home.

You rested your head against the window and gazed out at the still world. The streets were pretty empty but it was expected as the Sun was just starting to come out. Every once in a while, when the bus passed by small buildings, you had to squint your eyes, because the morning sunshine was too strong and you struggled to keep them open. You probably looked funny to those who could saw you from outside, but most of those who were out now were not paying attention to their surroundings. The young girl who was out running only looked ahead of her, the old man who was walking around was focused on the plants and trees growing on his path, the old lady who was walking her dog was preocupied with her phone and the students gathered around the coffee shop were busy talking with eachother. There were only 2 people who made eye contact with you from outside the bus: a little girl who was walking to school with her mom, who probably thought that you were making weird faces at her and stuck out her tongue at you in response and a man in his late 40s who didn’t pay you any other attention than the brief eye contact that you held.

Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly realized that you weren’t cold anymore when the bus opened its doors to a random stop. At least, your right thigh wasn’t cold. You focused your eyes on the window again but this time you looked at the interior of the bus, seeing a young boy settled on the seat next to yours. When did he get on?

You subtly checked your phone to see the time. Yup, 40 more minutes to go. You relaxed in your seat, thankful for the little warmth his thigh provided pressed up against yours and sneakily studied your bus neighbor. He was a boy around your age. He wore a simple black hoodie and a cute orange beanie, covering his dyed dark blue bangs. Interesting color combination. His profile was one of the prettiest you had ever seen in your life. It was no secret for you that your side profile view was not a pleasant one for many people. You subconsciously turned your head more towards the window, so that your face was entirely hidden. His face was a work of art. Was it possible that you fell asleep and now you were dreaming of a painting come alive? That’s how you felt. The early morning lights were making his sking almost glow, bringing the ‘sun-kissed skin’ saying to life. His eyes were the color of pure honey, but then again, they could be a darker shade. In the light of the new day they appeared to look like gold. He seemed so warm, you almost imagined curling yourself in a tiny ball and settle in his arms. You were clearly still drunk.

Although your first impression of him was that you were seated next to the God of Sun itself, you started noticing small details that reminded you that he was just another boy. His eyes had dark bags under them and looked exhausted. He was staring into nothing while silently moving his head to whatever music he was listening to. His hands were around his earphones’ cable, playing with it absent-mindedly. Most of his nails were bitten almost to blood, the others just really short. He had a few rings, most which appeard to be silver. One of them though made his perfect skin around it turn a green-ish color. Still, you wanted his hands to gently hold yours.

As you were daydreaming about why was he here at this time of the day, you suddenly felt a shiver starting from you thigh and spreading through your whole body. Coming back to reality you realised that he got up, removing one of his earphones and was heading to the bus doors. Without realising, only thinking that the whole world’s warmth will be gone with him, you found yourself stopping him.

-Wait, don’t go.

He stopped and turned around confused, most likely thinking that he was hearing things. Did he know you? Were you one of his fans? Maybe you were talking to yourself. But no, he looked into your eyes, eyes just as confused as his were. He walked back to his previous seat but didn’t sit down, just rested his weight on the bar that he was holding onto.

-Were you talking to me?

Now was your turn to be taken aback. Why did he come back? After your sudden outburst you expected him to ignore you, or worst case scenario laught at you before getting off the bus. What was he thinking?

-Umm, me? you pointed at yourself in a dumb way.

-Yeah, sweetie. Who else? If you haven’t noticed the bus is kinda empty except for us. Well, it was supposed to be just you here now but for some reason you decided you want me to stay.

He laughed shortly, clearly amused at your flustered state. One thing’s for sure, he definitly had the arrogance of a Sun God. You rolled your eyes and tried to get your cheeks to cool down. Shouldn’t be too hard, considering that your source of warmth for most of the ride wasn’t next to you anymore.

-I wasn’t asking you to stay. I just…

And then your voice was too quiet to be heard, making the boy lean in to hear you better.

-Come again? You have to speak up if you want me to hear you.

-I said, I was just cold.

-’Just cold’? What does that have to do with me?

-Ok, listen up, pretty boy. I’m drunk and cold and I was walking home thinking how I’ll warm up once I get on the bus, but these seats are fucking cold and my butt was frozen and I was tired and you sat down next to me, by the way there were a lot of seats available, so you started it but you were warm and I wasn’t shaking anymore so I panicked when you got up and called for you and I didn’t expect you to actually hear me but then you come back all cocky and start asking me ques-

-Ok, sorry for interupting your rambling but I pretty much know the rest of the story.

He watched you for a few more seconds and then sat back down next to you. Never breaking eye contact he disconnected his earphones and opened his backpack, putting them inside. He only broke down his stare when whatever he was trying to get out got stuck. He easily managed to take it out and he handed it to you. What was it? A black simple hoodie, just like the one that he was wearing now. You took it without a second thought and put it on, happy with the fact that you weren’t cold anymore.

- I’m warning you that it may smell like a dead rat, but I can’t guarantee that the one tham I’m wearing is any better. Still better than nothing though.

He looked embarrassed, his full round cheeks being as pink as the sky behind the window. Cute.

You didn’t say anything, but inhaled subtly. The hoodie didn’t smell bad at all. It smelled like old cologne and a something else which you guessed was his own smell. Ok, you could smell a little bit of sweat, but it was barely there and, afterall, it might have as well come from you with all the dancing you did back at the club. You made sure to tell him that it was ok and thank him. Would it be weird to ask for his name now?

-So, what’s your name sweetie? Looks like he beat you to it.

- Y/N. What’s yours?

-You don’t know me?

-Umm, was I supposed to? You’re even weirder than I am.

-No, just. I’m part of a rap trio. 3Racha. We’re pretty popular on soundcloud and spotify. I thought that you knew me from there and wanted an autograph or something.

-That’s so cool, you guys are on spotify? Show me.

And that’s how you spent the rest of your ride, listening to him and his friends rapping. You had to give it to them, they were good. Really good. After adding all of their songs to your playlist you realized that you were only 2 stops away from home. And he was still there next to you, even though he was supposed to get off long time ago.And then you realised he still hasn’t introduced himself.

-Hey, we’re nearing the last stop. And you still haven’t told me your name, J.One. I don’t think that’s how your mama named you, isn’t it?

He laughed with his whole body after hearing your question. Damn him, even his laugh was beautiful. With his heart -shaped lips and shiny eyes, with his sweet voice filling the empty bus. Is this how falling in love with a stranger feels like?

-Of course that’s not it. My name’s Jisung.But you can call me anything you’d like.

Getting off the bus, you and Jisung stared at eachother. What now? Were you supposed to walk him to the bus stop on the other side? It’s your fault he missed it. But you also wantem him to walk you home. You liked talking to him. You didn’t want it to end, even though the day was just starting.

-Are you gonna keep staring at me or will you let me walk you home, sweetie? I’m getting cold too now.

-Oh, right. I’m sorry you missed your stop.

-It’s okay. It wasn’t actually my stop. Usually, when I’m going home from the studio I get off 2 stops early to walk and clear my mind. So I could have gotten off if I wanted to. But I didn’t.

You didn’t say anything, instead started walking towards your flat. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. ‘Thanks’? No way. So you opted for silence.

The wind was a little bit chilly, but definetly warmer than a few hours ago. It almost felt good to feel it pass by you, making your hair go in all different directions. You adjusted the hoodie and put your twiching hands in your pockets. You suddenly remembered thinking about holding Jisung’s hands. The thought made your cheeks red again, and you snuggled further into the hoodie, almost being swallowed by it.

You thought of breaking the silence, that was a normal thing to do. But then again, it was comfortable. Jisung didn’t seem to be bothered by it and you actually enjoyed it. There were not many people you could be quiet with and he was one of them. Words were not necessary. They would be carried away by the wind anyway.

You reached your building and faced him again. You two just stayed like that, staring at eachother for a few minutes.

-Give me your phone, y/n.

-Is this the part where you steal it and run away?

-No, it’s the part where I take it and save my number in it.

And that he did, saving himself as ‘Bus seat warmer’ in your phone. Very funny. He gave you your phone back, said goodbye and turned away to leave. But before that, he turned around and winked at you.

-And afterall, I already stole something. Your heart belongs to me now. And trust me when I say, I wouldn’t even dream of running away.

With that he finally left, leaving you to contemplate how soon you should call him. You entered your apartment and pressed call. Jisung immediately answered.

-Miss me already, sweetie?

#stray kids #skz oneshots #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz writing #han jisung #j.one #fluff

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