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shuahoonie · 8 months

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solace | joshua hong

pairing: non-idol!joshua (svt) x fem!reader

notes: slice of life, fluff, bit of swearing, pet names ft. seventeen, domestic lyf , the one where reader isn’t aware that their definition of comfort is joshua hong— really just self-indulgent because i’ve had a rough week at work.

word count: 2.8k

summary: joshua hong, no matter how busy life can get, will always set aside time for you. no matter where you two both are, what time it was— comfort exists in the mould of him.

joshua hong is solace, personified.

playlist | shuahoonie masterlist

life hasn’t been extremely kind to you. first week in your new job and it has already made your life a living hell.

“i mean it’s only been a week,” you said over the phone, trying to appease yourself that maybe it’s just a bad day “maybe it’s just something that i need to get used to.”

you literally just clocked off work when joshua sent you a message, asking how your day was. always like an angel, always in perfect timing.

work was starting to get frustrating and you considered quitting too, but talking to joshua made it bearable for you.

he would send you messages in the morning, would try calling you during your lunch breaks. and if he has time, he would try to visit your place or he would ask you to come over to his.

and when you replied to his text with a sole sad smiley face, he immediately called you.

never in your life would you have expected for shua to be so patient when it came to you, even more so to the people he deeply cared about.

“i don’t know, love,” there are noises on the other side of his line “you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“is that yn? tell yn i miss her!” you can hear jeonghan yell on the other line, making you laugh.

“no, tell her yourself!” joshua whines childishly on the other line “it’s my time to be on the phone with her.”

“it’s always your time on the phone with her!” jeonghan whines back. there were a couple of indiscernible words before you heard the phone being passed. “yn!” jeonghan manages to steal the phone from joshua “i miss you! you don’t visit us anymore.”

“had a tough week, bub.” you say softly “i’ll make sure to visit when i have time.”

“how come joshua always gets to see you?” you could feel that han was pouting. “even when we have meetings that run late…” he mutters the latter part but you caught it loud and clear.

“he’s always checking up on me, han,” you whispered all of a sudden, feeling shy. “i actually don’t know how he does it.”

“i know how,” jeonghan says in a teasing manner before you heard the phone being snatched again.

“lovey,” joshua coos “do you want me to call you as soon as you get home?”

“you’ve been really fond of that nickname, huh,” you teased shua, but you could feel yourself turning red.

“only because we’re each other’s lovey,” he murmurs over the phone. “but do you?”

“it’s okay, lovey,” you said, fighting back a smile as you entered the busy subway. “i’m on the train now, i’ll talk to you later.”

“okay, text me when you get home,” joshua says on the other line. “love you.”

you hummed and said “love you too” softly before hanging up.

the train ride home was enough to make you feel numb— maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe it was a bustling friday night. whatever it was, it’s enough for you to forget about the resentment you felt from your job.

with your airpods in, you endured the ride home listening to the curated playlist that you and joshua curated.

you were aware of how your music taste differed from each other— so when home by one direction played, you were a little startled. it’s almost as if you accidentally added the song on the queue.

a small smile was practically tattooed on your face when you saw that it was joshua who added the song to the playlist.

you must’ve done something good in your past life because you can’t possibly think of a reason for you to have joshua hong in this life.

“love you?” jeonghan teases joshua, making him roll his eyes. “what’s the deal with you and yn again?”

“we’re friends, han,” joshua says as he walks over to the other side of jeonghan’s place to grab his water bottle that he left on the kitchen counter.

jeonghan has been friends with joshua for years— he knows when joshua’s trying to avoid something.

“yeah, i know,” jeonghan says following joshua “i mean i’m friends with yn too, but i don’t text nor call her every day.”

“maybe because you just suck at using your phone,” joshua teased han, hoping that his friend would drop the conversation.

“says the guy that barely responds the group chat and has over 500 unread messages?” jeonghan shots back, amused at shua’s insinuation. “face it, shua, ynnie is—“

“she’s special,” shua finishes. “everything just feels lighter around her, you know.”

“ahuh,” jeonghan agrees in a low hum, watching joshua’s expression turn bright as he receives a text update from you. jeonghan knew what joshua felt about you, he’s just unsure if his friend knew it himself. “i know.”

you and joshua have been friends for a little while now— and your friendship with him had stood the test of time. it seemed like it was too good to be true, because he came to your life when everything felt hazy.

you moved to a new place all by yourself, not knowing anyone, trying not to cry as you dropped a piece of kimbap on the convenience store floor— then comes joshua, who happens to be at the very same convenience store and saw how you stared at the piece of kimbap on the floor for a while.

that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap.

joshua, who was supposed to only buy a quick snack, unconsciously chose to sit and eat at the convenience store instead.

he sat a few chairs away from you, eating his ramen quietly while he watched you pick clean up the mess you made.

after you finished cleaning up— and quietly cursing the universe as today wasn’t going well— you sat back down, fighting back the tears from your eyes and continued to eat your lukewarm ramen.

joshua heard your quiet sniffles while you were eating. he didn’t want to be invasive and ask you if you were okay, but he could sense that you were having a rough day.

joshua has always had a knack when it comes to people— he would always get a sense of what they’re feeling.

he quietly slides you the extra kimbap that he bought for later and says, “i accidentally bought an extra one and i’ll probably forget about it in my fridge if i take it home.” a lie, of course.

as soon as your gaze reaches his, you bursted out crying— which definitely caught shua by surprise.

not knowing exactly what to do, he sat next to you and carefully patted your back every now and then.

“sorry,” you said in between tears, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“hey, it’s okay,” joshua says comfortingly “you’re okay.”

you hurriedly wiped your tears with your hands, however, it seemed that your tears aren’t quite done yet.

“oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you said, tilting your head back— fanning yourself as you tried to stop yourself from crying. “it’s just a really rough day.”

“it’s okay, you’re safe here,” he gives you a reassuring smile “sometimes, we just really need to let it all out for everything to start making sense again.”

that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap— the universe gave you both.

as soon as you got off the train station, a familiar physique was leaning against one of the pillars— arms crossed with a bright smile plastered on their face.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised to see him at the station. “weren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“we see each other at the office everyday,” he scoffed, easily grabbing your tote bag and casually puts on his shoulder. he’s so used to doing it, it’s feasible at this point. “and it’s just with jeonghan. he can live without me, so i left.”

“so, are you saying that i can’t live without you?” you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughs, almost pleased that of your insinuation.

“maybeee,” he practically sings. “c’mon, do you wanna get something to eat?”

“i thought you and jeonghan already ate?” you asked him, linking your arm with his.

“we had snacks,” joshua answers “what do you want to do, love? do you want to eat out or should we just get take out and eat at yours?”

“my place?!” you gasped “i thought we were going to your apartment this time?”

“you have a comfier couch,” joshua mumbles as he pulls away from your linked arms, quietly slipping his fingers in between yours instead. you can’t deny that physical touch brings you comfort— rather, joshua brings you comfort.

“then why did you get that ugly ass white couch then?”

“it’s cute and you know it,” joshua pouts “plus it works well with my living room interior.”

“babe, it’s solid as a rock.”

“so if we ever move in together, you’d force me to throw it out?!”

you practically choked on his statement. “move in?! who said anything about moving in?”

“i think it’s bound to happen anyway,” joshua says casually. “didn’t we make a pact when we were 23?”

“i thought that was just the alcohol talking,” you said quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“i meant every word i said,” joshua smiles at you— the kind that makes your heart beat a little faster, the kind that makes your insides melt. “but i’m also more than happy to yield, if you’re retracting your statement.”

“if we’re 30, and have not found any significant others, should we just get married?” you asked shua after finishing your second bottle of soju.

“i thought you don’t believe in marriages,” shua teases, resting his chin on his dominant hand. his eyes were sparkling in anticipation.

“i don’t,” you smiled at him “but if it’s with you, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“okay,” joshua says softly “as long as you’re okay with it, then i’m happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

you smiled upon hearing what joshua said. “yeah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, joshua hong.”

“great because i’ve already pictured the perfect proposal.”

you and joshua were quietly eating dinner back at your place— sitting on the living room floor, backs pressed against the couch, with modern family playing in the background.

shua was watching you the whole time as you ate your tteokbokki with a mindless look on your face. he knew that you were checked out and he felt bad that nothing could lift up your spirits.

you were painfully exhausted that you can’t even enjoy your comfort food with your comfort show.

you caught joshua staring at you as you nibbled rice cake slowly. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks you softly.

“talk about what?” you feigned innocence. to be fair, you weren’t in the mood to talk about work and the last thing you want was to pester shua with your work rants too.

“c’mon, yn,” he pats the space between you two, urging you to sit closer to him. “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“mhm,” you hummed as you placed your chopsticks down and snuggled closer to shua— your head resting on the crook of his neck. “i’m just tired,” you say quietly.

“i know, my love,” he whispers, knowing that you weren’t just physically tired. shua knew that your new job was taking everything from you and you didn’t want to make it seem like it is. “i wish there’s something that i can do to make you feel better.”

you lifted your head to turn towards shua. “you’re already doing great, bub,” you said with a fond smile. “having you here with me is enough,” you hummed.

joshua returned the smile, pulling you closer to him— if it was even possible. you two sat in silence, tucked under shua’s embrace.

you’ve always found comfort within joshua hong. when people ask you what he is in your life, you would smile and tell them that he’s your comfort person.

“so, like the love of your life?” ichan asks with a confused look, not really understanding your answer.

“sure, something like that.”

“are you two dating then?” he asks as you two wait for your work computer to finish updating.

“nope.”

“but he’s always at your beck and call?” he clarifies and you nodded. “god, you two are confusing.” chan mutters, leaning back at the office chair.

you laughed. “babe, you’re just saying that because you haven’t met the person who makes you feel comfortable.”

chan playfully scoffs at your comment and says “well, i’m sorry if i haven’t met my soulmate at a convenience store.”

soulmates. maybe joshua hong is your soulmate.

“shuji,” you called his name softly, resting your chin on top of his shoulder.

“hm?” joshua hums as it prompts him to turn his head and look at you— the distance between your faces were unbearably close. “you know i hate that nickname right?”

“i know,” you answered, not moving from your position. “but you still let me call you that.” your chin planted on his shoulder as you practically bit every word that came out of your mouth.

joshua laughs because you’re right. he hates it when people call him that and yet, he doesn’t mind when you do it.

joshua’s attention was back to the tv, watching the modern family episode when mitch and cam got married.

you removed yourself from joshua’s embrace—propping your elbow on the table and resting your head against your hand. you couldn’t help but watch joshua— having him here next you was nothing new but you still can’t believe that someone like him would be so patient around you.

there’s definitely a sense of selfishness that boils inside you. you want joshua to stay in your life forever, but that’s not possible. especially if he finds a significant other.

“yn,” shua calls your name softly, eyes still glued at the tv. “is my face really that great to look at?” he asked teasingly. you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “because ahjumma gave me extra fishcakes because of that.”

“and i thank you because of that,” you grinned.

joshua turns to you, mirroring your position as he props his elbow on the table and rests his head against his hand as well.

“what’s bothering you, my lovey?” shua asks as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“do you love me?” you asked joshua. a bold move on your part— but you only did it because he can either spin it as something strictly platonic or it can become something more.

he wasn’t even caught off-guard. instead, he smiles at your question— as if it was just a normal and casual thing to ask. “i do,” joshua answers because it’s true. “i think i love you a little too much.”

“how much?”

“like i would let you run the ac on full blast,” joshua mutters with a smile on his face, playing with the ends of your hair.

you let out a small gasp, “really?”

“really.”

“but you hate getting cold,” you pointed out.

“yeah, but you love the cold— like right now, it’s freezing here,” joshua laughs as he pulls the sleeves of his hoodie further.

“shit, i didn’t even notice—“ you were about to stand up to turn down the ac but shua pulls you back down.

“it’s okay,” he says softly, “c’mere." joshua pulls you closer to him, similar to the position you were in earlier. this time though, you're sitting between his legs— your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you.

“shua, let me turn the ac down,” you said, trying to get up but he tightens his arms around you— briefly forgetting how big shua’s arms has gotten.

“no,” he whines childishly “just stay here with me,” he mumbles in your ear. “you’re very warm.”

“i think that’s why i feel hot all the time,” you said nestling in his arms.

“yeah,” joshua chuckles “but i also think you’re a very warm person, ynnie.”

“hm?”

“yeah, i mean you make every room brighter, ynnie. you make everything feel as if you’re the calm in this chaotic world. if i could keep you by my side at all times, i’d do it.”

you rolled your eyes playfully “now, you’re just making fun of me.”

“i’m not,” joshua rests his chin on the top of your head “why do you think jeonghan and seungkwannie kept asking for you?”

“i think it’s because i feed them,” you joked, making joshua snort.

“trust me yn, if i can keep you all to myself, i would.”

“so why don’t you?”

hi hi friends! i know i've been mia, but ya gurl is working 2 jobs now 🥲 as much as i would love to write frequently, i end up only writing a couple of words here and there— and that's when i'm not immediately passed out. i hope u all understand! ♡

#joshua hong x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong fluff #joshua hong imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #svt joshua #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt fanfic #joshua hong fic #shuahoonie writes

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dangermousie · 9 months

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Latest on Anle:

1. By now I dislike every character in this mess. LMX is a manipulative user. Han Ye is a gratuitous masochist. Anle is morose and dreary enough I am confused as to how either man is obsessed with her unless it’s purely for looks (there is a way to make a dark and revenge driven and damaged woman who puts her goals ahead of love and ain’t got time for fluff interesting - see Dowager in Bloody Heart or Shu Qi’s FL in Red Dust or Ha Ji Won’s FL in Empress Ki) but Anle ain’t it.

2. I confess I laughed when Han Ye volunteered to do public penance barefoot. Surely you forgot your flagellation tools, young man?

3. It’s pretty clear that LMX and Anle are drinking as much of HY’s blood as they can because they can’t go after the real guilty party, the emperor, and are just projecting on a target that is not only available but is literally hanging a “kick me” sign on himself. That makes me think less of all three of them.

4. It’s a tough competition but Anning wins Idiot of the Drama award. That actress has no aura of the general, not even a cosplay one, but the atrocious script is doing her no favors by saddling her with the brain power of a toddler.

5. Why Han Ye hasn’t yet informed Anle WS is her brother is beyond me. “Because drama!!!” Is not a good answer.

6. I keep fantasizing about importing Sima Yi from The Advisors Alliance or Cao Cao from Three Kingdoms 2010 or hell, even Li Chu from Glory of Tang Dynasty or (to use a current drama), Cousin Cang Xuan from LYF into this world and having them take over this kingdom of morons in two days.

6a. Han Ye is a sweet person but in any real world situation that dynasty is doomed when someone like him comes to the throne unless his advisors are somehow an improbable combination of madly loyal and utter sharks. I wouldn’t trust that man to run a trading caravan ruthlessly, smartly and efficiently enough.

7. On plus side, all three mains are very pretty and the acting is fine in light of what they’ve been given. Still, if you want to watch Dilraba do a lady with agenda role, you are best off watching The King’s Woman or even The Long Ballad (and god and my mutuals know I am no fan of the latter.) If you want to watch Gong Jun be brilliant in a period setting, Word of Honor is that way. And if you want to watch Liu Yuning as an ambitious tragic schemer, go check out Heroes (go check out Heroes anyway, actually!)

To conclude: if color beige was given a drama form, it would be this drama.

#cdrama #the legend of anle

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rainbowstargazerlilies · 1 year

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Okay, so for the year anniversary, I opened up comments for some non-canon bits. I said if people didn't ask for something specific, they'd probably get something weird. I ended up doing a multi-part non canonical bit, which I love very much. You can hunt through the comments in the chapter for it, or you can enjoy it here under the read-more. Hope you like it! And hey, if you want to see more in this little AU story thread, comments are still open.

Part 1:

Marius wasn’t entirely sure what direction this day had taken, but he wasn’t necessarily happy about it.

“And who exactly are you?” he said, gesturing at. . . well, there was a lot to gesture at. The insanely curling hair, and the far too pointed smile. Usually, nobody else on the Aurora was supposed to be here. Usually, people knew better than to interrupt Marius when he was– not PINING, per se, but heavily considering how to talk to Lyf in the near future, or trying to figure out where Brenn might be. He’d retaliated enough to make them form the habit.

“You can call me Michael,” the creature said, and its smile deepened. “You must be Marius.”

“Yes, now you can stop bothering me. Go find Brian or someone. He’s probably not that busy.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. Brian was just being annoying and not inviting Marius to whatever secret conversations were going on. Extremely rude of him. Marius could afford to be a little petty.

Instead of responding, Michael turned his hand, and a voice started echoing from nearby.

Wait.

Wait, Marius knew that voice.

““I know you’re not here,” the far too familiar voice said from the corner of the room, just past what appeared to be a yellow door, “but you know what, Marius? It would be so good to hear your voice right now.”

Marius, as it turned out, could run very fast when prompted. And Lyf, saying something like that? He didn’t care if it was impossible. He just wanted to see Lyf. He wanted to be there, and to say anything, and to make Lyf smile again, because they sounded so tired and upset and more than a little scared. If he could be there for ANY of it, then Marius was going to take the chance.

The door was locked. The door was fucking locked, and the creature in the center of the room kept laughing.

Slowly, Marius turned back to stare at ‘Michael’, who’d come up behind him.

“Open the door.”

“They’re not really here, you know,” Michael said, almost singsong. “They were there, though. And they talked about you, baron.” It reached down and tapped his nose lightly. “Now, if you hurt them–”

“If you know where they are,” Marius said, beyond frustrated, “then let me see them.”

Michael considered. “They did want to see you,” it said, twisting its hand once again. Once more, Lyf’s voice echoed beyond the door.

“I . . . I don’t even know if you’re real or not, and I still wish I could see you again. Pathetic, maybe, but. . . you made the darkness bearable, somehow. Nobody’s done that before. And you held my hand through it all, whether it was snakes or squamous things, or outer gods rearing their heads. And I just wish. . .”

Somehow, the doorknob still wasn’t working, and neither was trying to break through the door, no matter how long and hard Marius battered at it. Stupid, really. Michael had said that Lyf wasn't inside, but. . . but for all Marius knew, Michael had lied about that, and Lyf was in there, still tired and sad and wishing for him to be there. If there was one thing that Marius had learned from those dreams, it was that he always wanted to be there when Lyf needed his help. “What the fuck do you want from me?” Marius asked Michael finally.

“I just wanted to inform you,” Michael said, with an amused look at Marius’s efforts to break down the impossible door, “that if you hurt the inspector, you will have to deal with me. And I have ways to deal with even the most. . . stubborn of creatures.”

Then, it opened the door, stepping inside before Marius could. “Now, goodbye,” it began, but–

But Marius was still fast. And Lyf had been inside this impossible door. Maybe, if he went through it, he could find Lyf on the other side, no matter where it ended up.

It was a matter of seconds to stick his foot in the doorway, dart by a startled-seeming Michael, and make his way into the corridor.

Part 2:

“What are you doing here,” Michael said from behind him.

Marius just kept walking. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said, not bothering to turn. If he turned, then he had the feeling that the corridors would only get worse.

So, maybe entering the yellow door hadn’t been the best idea. The corridors seemed impossible, and they kept changing whenever Marius looked around, and there was nothing to say that any of this was meant to make sense at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

But then, there were two reasons that had Marius continuing to walk forward, no matter what Michael offered. The first was that Marius happened to be very stubborn. The second, though. . .

Michael knew Lyf. Knew Lyf well enough to have had some sort of echo of their voice on the other side of that door. There was no sign of Lyf themself so far, so Marius was assuming that it was probably some kind of recording, but if Michael knew Lyf, then that meant that Lyf was still alive, and that Michael could take Marius right to them. And Marius dearly, dearly wanted to see Lyf and know they were all right.

“And you think you can navigate my corridors,” Michael asked, and. . . well, that was a problem, wasn’t it? Marius might not be the member of the crew with the worst sense of direction (that honor still went to Tim), but whatever this place was, it seemed to completely define mapping.

“I can try,” Marius settled on. “Lyf deserves it.”

Michael was quiet for a bit. Good. Marius could use the quiet to try to figure out which corridor to go down. There were so many twists and turns, and if he just found the right one– well. Lyf had said they’d talk once Marius was on the same planet. Marius was looking forward to it.

“How did you meet the inspector?” Michael finally asked.

Oh, Marius could talk about that for days. He grinned. “I was a prisoner, and they were a police inspector, and they brought me and the others lunch one day, and they didn’t even blink at our mechanisms. Mentioned their sister, I think. She’s got a mechanical arm, same as me. Hope she’s okay.”

Michael blinked. “Sister.”

“Yes, Brenn. She’s. . . I don’t even know where she is, but she’s fantastic. And Lyf. . . Lyf was the best. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but it was very, very close. I mean, they’re –”

Michael stopped walking, and after a moment, Marius stopped walking too.

“Go through this one,” Michael said finally, and they pried the mirror out of its frame with those very, very long fingers.

“What?”

“Go through this one,” Michael said, sounding testy, “and you will be closer. I will go find my sibling, and you can try to explain yourself to your inspector. A metal arm, you said?”

“Brenn? Yes, a metal arm, and she’s got rainbow freckles, and a bunch of curly– and you’re gone.”

Marius stared at the mirror frame, considering it. It might get him where he wanted to go, true. But it also felt very, very much like doing what was expected of him, which didn’t rub against him the right way after all.

Finally, he shrugged, and went through the mirror next to it. It’d probably be close enough, and if Michael had been lying the whole time, it only made sense to not go through the one Michael had pointed out. Trusting something that owned a place like this one just seemed like a terrible idea.

He emerged, oddly enough, on a London street. The door had apparently come out on an alleyway, and Marius could see a park nearby. And across the street. . . across the street was a flat building that only gave him a headache. It shimmered and blinked in the corners of his vision, and it only got worse if he looked at it head-on.

“You there,” a voice said from nearby, and Marius turned to see an older woman, arms full of groceries.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Baron von Raum, yes?” she asked, and smiled at him. “I’m Mrs. Wilton. Help me bring in my groceries, please? I think we should have a talk.”

Part 3:

Apparently, when someone like Mrs. Wilton said that they should have a talk, she meant tea.

In theory, Marius didn’t mind tea parties. He’d participated in several over the years, whether it was one thrown by the Toy Soldier with fancy hats galore, or something smaller from Ashes where the “tea” wasn’t anything of the sort. But in practice, right now . . .

Mrs. Wilton’s flat was in the strangest building Marius had seen in a fairly long time. The outside walls had chalk markings and what looked to be colorful glints, and looking at it for any length of time left him with a headache. As he’d gotten into the flat itself, well. . .

There were so many rainbows. Why were there so many rainbows? Was Lyf nearby, and if so, why was Marius wasting any of his time on drinking tea?

“So,” he said abruptly, putting his tea cup down. “How have we met before?”

“We haven’t,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She looked almost startled at the thought. “No, you rappelled past my window once, and one of your family members made all the right apologies.”

Marius frowned. He thought he’d remember rappelling past someone’s window like that. Sure, it was a move he’d pulled before, but. . . at a building like this one? Surely it’d have stuck in his memory.

Unless. . .

“When was this,” he began to ask, but Mrs. Wilton was faster.

“Now, what exactly are your feelings towards Lyfrassir Edda?”

Well. That was unexpected. How many friends had Lyf made that they just hadn’t mentioned in the dreams? They’d mentioned an Oliver and a Gerry, and Nastya to boot, but. . . surely they’d have mentioned if they’d adopted a grandmother at some point.

Then again, it wasn’t like Marius had told Lyf every detail of his life since they’d last seen each other in person. There had never been enough time for that sort of thing, and there were far more important things to try to say. Like explaining to Lyf that he actually liked them, or asking Lyf whether they were still single.

“I’ve been in love with them since. . . maybe the second time I saw them?” Marius said as honestly as he could, tapping his chin. “The first time was far too short to fall in love with a person, but I definitely wanted to get to know them better. And it was within that first year of knowing them that I knew I was in love with them, but I’d definitely– right. I want to be sure they’re all right, and to make sure they know how amazing they are, and if they wanted, I’d jump at the chance of staying by their side for the rest of immortality.”

Mrs. Wilton nodded slowly. “I thought so,” she said, and took another sip of tea.

“You. You thought so.”

“Well,” she said gently, “at first I was wondering who the young ruffian Lyf was complaining about was. You didn’t make the best first impression, duck, climbing out a window like that. But they’ve talked about you long enough that I got the shape of the story. Biscuit?”

Mechanically, Marius took one. “So. So they are alive.”

“Of course,” she responded, looking a bit startled. “I messaged them when we first sat down to tea. They should be at the door any moment. But first, I wanted to tell you that if you hurt them. . .”

“If I hurt them, you’ll come after me?” Marius asked, looking her up and down. It didn’t seem the most threatening at first, but then again, he’d seen enough grandmothers in his time to not take the threat lightly.

“I have my contacts,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She nodded to him. “And Lyf has their friends, too. I would be surprised if you did not end up getting more conversations like this one. They’ve been hurt enough.”

“Yes, they have,” Marius said softly, remembering Lyf over those dreams. The way Lyf’s face had broken into tears again and again, and the ways they kept getting hurt. “I promise, Mrs. Wilton, I’ll do my best to never be one of the things hurting them.”

“Good,” she said, standing up herself. “Because they should be at the door now.”

The door was in fact swinging open, and Marius could hear someone saying, “Mrs. Wilton? Your text was not the most precise, what did you need me for–”

And then there Lyf stood, feet away from Marius, staring at him, and Marius. . .

Marius managed a wave, and a quiet, “Hi,” before suddenly they were hugging, and Marius didn’t even know who had started it. All he knew was that he never wanted it to end.

#the stars claim them #now we are derailed #this is NOT canon but I enjoyed it

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heydnp · 1 year

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a while back ago I accidentally deleted my blog + side blogs (😔) and haven’t gotten around to remake this one but yesterday i met dan (???!!!?!!!?!) so i felt like it was an appropriate time!

ive been watching this man since 2013 and finally did a meet n greet and it was. So Lovely. hes so sweet :(( he complimented my fashion (bright orange jacket + bright red pants my beloved) & said “awe for me?” when I asked him to sign a #1 dad card for me. and he took my gfs bereal!! she was so brave for asking him to do so and his selfie came out way too good.

and the show. the show!!! i was laughing and smiling so much my cheeks hurt. at one point when he randomly pointed towards the audience he pointed towards me and it felt very personal. i popped a bubble. was very emotional. it was such a great night and im SO HAPPY we got to see it!!!

dannie for lyf this was an amazing night THANK YOU @danielhowell <3

#daniel howell #dan howell #doomed tour #dnp #dan and phil

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libidomechanica · 5 months

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“So kept me asked”

So kept me asked buds; another dresses forgotten hart: dumbe Swans, not harder wonne with looks as may her sex’s antidote. If on an evil unto my very man sat she drowsy wing their form had gone, thy precius; in wyfhod I

would yearn to wyves. But th’ onely valleys; meseems I feel good will telle. For each cheering by a most mad and each doth plenty and you wake? Till frets, that the which you, i’ll fearles and good. Many quiet shade, out of hym

corrected new come hither, the lot of Absál long’d so heauen, so effectually placed by the brother no man will hopes already coueted to see what relation I make agree, in which the winds at least not, with her yre: and doun,

but when thirst assayed at dark velvet edges of the grots and streams into my down by her virginitee, it went away:& with her hollow and my tunelesse brest his last night, who are in me; I rather be shed, chafes at once it ill.

Sweet love, what a calamity hardy fight and rid my plaint to say, nay, if anywhere, O Where holding melancholy; the while the buffeting no summon all potatoes she witch’s aid, or leaps of mountains, ye nymphs were but vow

coming. Love first comes them appear, thy visible set and would tell her love of the brere be with his sacred Empress would they were crackling.&Then she says, and you gave, The course from what it is strength this way, but certeyn. Shall I speake like Munch’s

Scream Fairies to thee. On this, things be drowsy noons, or he was used to the least where and lookes, that was to embased. The vaine? Whence ran through cold lips that where then needs must speake no more: if, so doe I weep, sleep, sleep reciting here wax

al deef. Where were less and meane, and broken with all her wilfull time a hundred Grace put for me in her eyebrows of a chemical kisses a’ she have slept with the bliss to enuy let her beautie, and good. He seed y-sowe, virginitee

is repeated, in my bride, my number I stifly myne eyes lighte a caste pisse upon my joys come to gete hire eke. As perles, ne thing quiet shadow of the ferthe. Whose smyling strayning, heartbroken so shall alive, and diamond, my

sunny fields and my tunelesse on a maner thy sweet Robin sits mournful state without a somonour touch of her eye; for noon oother Pasty luscious this early lawn, youth look’d for every line my bride, so higher back, up like

eyes at mark her decay, to battell, and with Stella I do meane a one. There is fast, and faint for, fails, since break the person, if I telleth me bothe; this common grounds, and that all. In plenty makes tolde men of a dark will come high place

too much more stedfast as we nat fet for once to rest, affrayd of the mone of tribulacioun; there trod Apollo’s bow; a heave my youth in every music which them still that wommen kan nat kepe me faire have worn; ye grots that faithfu’

and keeps warm pearlesse of cheeks. Thou prove; no, make that holde in which part reseeds its wings. Bright so you can stick a needle brown: o follow. The Khalífah laugh. But pure affections shoo ful bitter, but death like yong and dropt the bridal wiles.

From op’ning of the gift of the breath. And up I started to the ever iterance! Divine come a clench of what she has not heare, but most liue by kind, nor envy I doe me now ended he his lyf, to hire drynke. That and play, cleared.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #184 texts #ballad

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spacefuneral · 1 year

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i looooove fake boy bands in media. like Boys 4 Now in Bobs Burgers or Boys Who Cry in Spongebob. Or 4*TOWN!!! I loved 4*TOWN in Turning Red sooooo much. I've had many boyband phases in my life but always in a self aware way, so I can laugh at it, but what these things always get right is that they'll make suuuch a silly, cheesy song but it'll SLAP and that's very accurate 2 real lyf

#nobody like u from turning red is a fucking banger #but ''i love you so much it's scary'' from bobs burgers is all i ever think about #fish gets emotional over music

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parttimesiffrinfulltimeproblem · 5 months

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i love how a lot of ace attorney names would be nowhere out of place in a dnd campaign or otherwise fantasy setting. oh yeah this is my dnd party with klavier, apollo, athena, phoenix, edgeworth, and juniper woods. brilliant. this came to mind because i reblogged a post and tagged it as klapollo, then realised the degree to which klavier and apollo sound like a pair of almost contrived fantasy names which is just kind of funny given that they're lawyers. imagine if real life law was like that. yeah man im really stuck on this promissory estoppel case. whos my opposing counsel? oh its this guy eldroth. heard he's brilliant with contract law. you see my point?

#ace attorney #aa #just thinking. I love the ace attorney names...#klavier gavin #lyf laugh love

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lyfthemuffinmoth · 2 months

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HAS THIS FAMILY NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #dndads season 2 #lyf laugh love #rebecca swallows #rebecca oak #sparrow oak #normal oak #dndads s2e52 #dndads spoilers

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gunpowderdtim · 3 years

Note

Talk to me about narratomancy? Just whatever you want to talk about it I'm deathly interested

!!!! Today today i had so many Thoughts. To many. It almost rivals March 2020 thoughts

My current running names for the four pillars of Narratomancy are as follows:

Universal Story

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

Story Echoes

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

Each of these refer to VERY different things within the concept of Narratomancy. I will do my best to describe them. I have coined every term here but narratomancy, to which I believe the honor falls to @lucky-sevens

Keep in mind this is 50% theory, 20% headcanon, 30% canon, and that you do not have to agree with me.

Universal Story

Universal Story refers to the story of the universe, not stories in the universe, the story of the universe. In other words, the story of ‘Dr. Carmilla & The Mechanisms’

This section of Narratomancy is a tad more meta than the others, as it does in some form rely on real-world events to define it, as well as having little to no in story inpact on anything. Maki created the mechanisms universe, clear and simple. She founded the band, and hashed out the earliest lore. Dr. Carmilla is the main character of the universe, not of all the stories, but of the universe. Essentially, Universal Story refers to the fact that Doc C is the main character of the universe, and that the mechanisms are her side characters, in the story of the universe. I have taken to viewing it as doc carmilla stuff is the story of the universe, and the mechanisms is a spin off of that. Both are just as canon, but not specifically canon to eachother. Regardless, the universes story is Carmilla, from starting on Terra, to Aurora, through Loreli, into creating The Mechansims, all of that. All of that is the story of The Universe. The Mechanisms backstories are included in this, of course, because they are part of Carmilla's tale, not the other way around. Through this, I conclude that The Mechanisms are a spin off, focusing on the mechs rather than Carmilla. After all, The Mechansisms are a vessel for telling stories, for fleshing out the universe.

Narrative Role Filling/Casting Call

This refers to the mechs penchant for falling into narrative roles similar to troupes that they represent, or basically acting as a crutch for a story to continue. In OUATIS, Jonny acts as The Prince figure in sleeping beauty. He saves Briar. In being The Prince, he allows Snow's forces to attack cole, and win the war. Without that whole escapade, its likely the war would have stretched on years longer, and not have ended as it did.

Or, Ashes as Hades. What do mythological Hades and Ashes have in common? Hades was eaten by his father, Kronos, because there was a prophesy that told Kronos that his children would usurp him as king of the titans. Ashes figured out Mickey was the snitch, Mickey realized beforehand and lead Ashes into a trap. Killing them because he knew that they could ruin him. Basically, a parental figure betrays the child figure due to them knowing the child could ruin/destroy their position of power. As well as, if Ashes were not Hades, the Suits would not have met, and because of that the story of Ulysses Dies At Dawn would not have happened.

Continuing, while I am not nearly as much of an Arthurian legend person as I am a greek mythology person, some quick google searches revealed a similar similarity between Merlin and Brian. Basically, Merlin and the lady of the lake. She was basically his apprentice/a lady he was in love with? She basically betrayed and killed him after learning all out magic from him. Brian brought a priest back to life, only to have the priest betray and kill him. The tying together point here is clearly the "someone you helped betrays and kills you." That or, the fact they are both magical. Beyond this, If Brian were not on Fort Galfridian, Galahad would never have sought out the grail, and the entire plot would not have occurred.

In The Bifrost Incident, the Mechanisms do not take narrative roles in the way they did in prior albums. But this does not exclude them from being vital points in the story, after all, if Ivy were not present Lyf would not have been able to recover the data on the Black Box)

In all of these situations, (barring Jonny as The Prince) the Mechanisms have had some sort of connection point in the Roles they assume, as well as in their roles, changing the story so that it can continue to the ending presented in the albums.

Story Echoes

Story echoes are, to be blatant, simply canon. No argument, no theorizing, just canon. Refers to the fact that in the mechanism's universe stories 'echo' or basically repeat. In Kofi's fiction for HNOC, its shown rather blatantly that there are more Arthurs in this universe than just the one in hnoc.

In those burning instants, he’d feel the weight of it all, and know it was true. The golden age that never came; the city that stood at the dawn of a world instead of in its dying embers. And beyond – to a myriad of Camelots and a thousand thousand Arthurs, unfathomable worlds apart, each different, each fighting the same hopeless battle.

I know there are other examples of this, but they do escape me right now.

Lastly,

Narrative Flow/Narrative Imperative

This one is also directly canon. On the mechanisms blog, this post defines it rather well.

In the ask, the asker asks "...Do you heal injuries at an abnormal rate, or can you not be injured?"

In the reply, it is stated.

It depends on the narrative imperative - sometimes a Mechanism might die for a while, and only come back later when it becomes more fun, other times they’ll just heal/ignore wounds as they take them. It’s not something they can control, but tends to follow a rough logic of whatever works best for the story.

This is just canon, no arguing or stating otherwise. A mechanisms ability to heal depends entirely on what's best for the story.

Other examples in canon where this comes into play would be as follows:

GPTVTMK. In gptvtmk, Jonny's severed head is there. Is talks. It moves. In one of the fictions, it's stated Jonny cannot separate his heart from his body. Therefore, these are contradictory. Under normal circumstances, this would be a plothole. It is not here. Under narratomancy, Jonny was capable of being a severed head due to the fact that that would be best for the story.

OUATIS. Jonny walks through rounds and rounds of bullets.

HNOC. This example is a bit different from the rest, as it is not about a Mechanism. Galahad does something pretty fucking impossible.

And so Galahad stood and walked into the corridor. The guns trained on the preacher and opened fire.

Say what you want about faith, but it can have powerful effects on those that have it. It can keep you from faltering as the bullets start to slam into you. It can keep you walking as your legs are shot to bloody stumps. It can keep you laughing as your lungs are filled with shrapnel and lead. It can keep you smiling as half your face is blown away. It can keep a man like Galahad standing tall until the guns clicked dry.

It is my belief that this is another example of narrative imperative. Under normal rules, Galahad could never have done this. But his faith, his beleif, kept him going. And that was good for the story.

So. That wraps up my narratomancy ramble for today. hope yall enjoyed.

*EDIT: Nastya does say it's nanobots. My opinion is: it's both. The nanobots are narrative driven <3

#the mechanisms #asks

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atsuwiee · 3 years

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hi tel! this is my first time requesting to you and i want to make it as fun as possible lol. okay so here goes *cracks my knuckles* can ate request a headcanon for enhypen as your jeje classmate? please make it as fun and lighthearted as possible. thank you!!!!!

enhypen as your jeje classmate!

i was constantly laughing while writing this pls AHAHAHA,, anways i hope you like this!

jejemon- Jejemon is a popular culture phenomenon in the Philippines. The Philippine Daily Inquirer describes Jejemons as a "new breed of hipster who have developed not only their own language and written text but also their own subculture and fashion."

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ -ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

heeseung

wears those big caps that don't even fit your head

like the ones that say "swag" or "supreme" 😭

the ones also from divisoria

does the two joints 24/7

also does that weird lip bite thing filo boys do

wears basketball jersey's and calls himself a baller (PLS I'M WHEEZING AT THIS EHJDKHJSJJAHJKA)

slides + high socks = drip

h y p e b e a s t (LMAO DJKHAKJHA)

his collar of his uniform is like popped out because he thinks it's cool

jay

not totally jeje

but like he's a conyo jeje ??

like you get what i mean

wears a fanny pack (like crossed over his body lmao)

wrist watch + chains = rich drip

(PROBABLY HAS THOSE PANCIT CANTON HAIR ONCE IN A WHILE)

but i think his hair style would be that long one and it's on just oNE SIDE (idk how to explain it but yeah)

snapback cap 24/7

cutting classes in bgc 😭

jake

,,,conyo jeje fr

DEFINITELY HAS THAT PANCIT CANTON HAIR

and wears those chains

like layers of chains

does this "🤙" all the time in pics

thinks it's sexy 😭

(idk if this is jeje) "huy mGa cHix" and then does that weird hand rubbing thing

texts like: i got that drip 🥶🥵

has those weird big rubber shoes when coming to school

sunghoon

probably has a video collage of himself

like the ones with pixel effects and 2009 music

or a video of himself with just sO MANY TRANSITIONS

LISTENS TO TRAP MUSIC

mans wearing those big ass "nike" shoes to school like ??? (2)

in the same friend group as heeseung and sunoo (probably)

he always has his hands in his pockets and slouches (iDK SOME PEOPLE DO THAT?)

"ball is lyf 🤙🏼"

he can rap that one verse in stupid love... oUTLOUD (well if you asked him to)

sunoo

his bio is probably like: don't talk to me as if you know me, becauze you don't b*tch 😏👑

listens to hambog ng sagpro krew

probably / might wear sunglasses to school

wears a bandana as a headband

probably does the giyomi song like it's 2k12 lmao

feeling "bad btch" (i mean he is tho)

has long side bangs for style lmao

jungwon

can't really think of a jejemon thing for him

but he probably listens to jeje songs

or types like this: m4h4L k0uH<3

uses those heartbroken quotes all the time

has a bandana wrapped around his neck for extra swag

ni-ki

same friend group with jake and jay

they probably cut classes and then go to sTaRbs

dude doesn't wear his uniform (if ever ya'll have uniforms in school)

he wears this big oversized jersey instead

with a cap and a bandana

and probably a chain too for extra swag

pa feeling conyo (na jeje) din dahil kay jake tska jay WHHAHSHAHA

also wears shorts + slides + high sock

because he thinks he gots the drip

"ball is lyf mga lodi" *then does that shooting ball thing in basketball idk*

does that basketball move thing constantly at his classmates

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #ni-ki #nishimura riki #enhypen fluff

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rainbowstargazerlilies · 1 year

Note

Hmm. Kerr

Ah, sister mine. Sister who has access to my writing doc. Sister who picked the most random one-off character she could find from ages ahead in the story. Love you, sis!

You know, that was even a placeholder name. I guess I'll leave it. Hmm.

"“They’re not important,” Kerr said, and gave a nervous sort of laugh. “Just rumors, you know? They happen. Better to ignore them. Now, how about—” “What. Rumors.” Kerr blinked. “Wow,” the man whispered, staring at Lyf. “The message was right.” He shook it off quickly. “Rumors. Let’s see. I— I don’t know who it was who started this. I’m just the messenger. But someone saw your office desk, and they said they saw a dagger. From one of the prisoners. With a note.” Lyf stared at their date and fought the urge to start swearing violently."

#now we are derailed #it's a prison flashback #slight context #lyf gets a date #the prisoners find out #it goes badly for everyone #(well yes little a context but the tag is still useful)#no context quotes time!

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jonnyvangelis · 3 years

Text

lyfrassir edda needs hobbies and enrichment

2051 words, fluff, artistic nudity and some implied nsfw. In which Lyf paints nude portraits of the crew of the Starship Aurora. Jonny takes a nap. Lyf gets cuddled. It's a good time.

MARIUS

Marius von Raum is laying nude on the couch in front of them. Their brush stills, and they squint a touch, gauging the distance between his relaxed metallic hand where he holds his wine and his knee where the bottom of the glass rests in a way that should be precarious but looks altogether… Bacchic.

And that’s all they can think to describe him, really, the short man so lovely draped before them with the comfortable, crooked smile on their lips.

Indulgent. Exciting, dangerous, beautiful.

Beautiful… the painter’s hand moves again, detached now from their thoughts, laying thin washes of tempura to be elaborated on in a while in oils.

He lays sideways, one leg crooked as to give their wine-hand a perch and to show thick, dark curls between his strong, soft thighs while the leg closest to Lyfrassir dangles off the couch. The hand that is flesh rests on their stomach, curled loosely around the rise of a plush belly, and the artist’s eyes trace up- following the dark, thin stretch marks that rise from his hips and lower belly- and mull over the surprisingly soft slope of their shoulders and the steady rise and fall of his chest, down to the two lighter scars just under each pectoral and back up to the curling hair between and over their pecs. His head leans back comfortably against the cushions, their beard recently trimmed to show the light indent of a double chin and the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled with their easy smile.

The light Aurora provides from two angled overhead lamps casts soft shadows on his golden skin. They are divine.

Lyfrassir presses their thighs together.

Marius takes another drink.

(Later, they lay next to each other in their bed and Marius braids Lyf’s hair and he doesn’t have the energy to talk, but they laugh at one of Lyf’s jokes and hum happily when their fingers make their way into his hair and he murmurs, in the morning, how much they love Lyfrassir and the latter kisses them and whispers back the reply in the breaths after and they are wordlessly happy.)

IVY

Ivy Alexandria sits on the same couch a week later, book in hand, and Lyf nearly forgets how to breathe.

But they paint her nonetheless.

Roving eyes wander over round pink cheeks, the slightest knit in her brow as she focuses on the story in her hand, the way her free hand rests on her chest and fidgets with the necklace there, resting between small breasts. She sits cross-legged and leans back into the couch, giving them a view from the front, and they note the resting downturn of her lips. Her sides roll with the way she’s curled up, and with the positioning of her surprisingly strong legs, nothing much else can be seen. The same lamps are dimmed for her pale complexion, and she nearly seems to glow against the wine-dark fabric she lies on.

Her portrait is more… closed, than Marius’. The moment is for Ivy alone, and where the previous pirate beckoned in every inch of their canvas, Ivy sits for Lyfrassir alone.

Ivy turns the page.

Lyfrassir smiles and rinses their brush.

JONNY

They were not expecting Jonny to be third. They’re more surprised by his request at lunch that morning, though— the mate asks if he can sleep. Lyfrassir nods, a touch puzzled, and when they sit at their easel and wet the canvas, there Jonny is, asleep on the couch and stripped bare.

Jonny d’Ville is… calm. His hands folded over his chest— his right thumb occasionally rubbing back and forth over the skin over his heart, arms too loose and surprisingly un-calloused hands too alive to show any real resemblance to the bodies in caskets he mimics. His pink lips hang parted, small sighing breaths slipping past that bring with them the rise and fall of what Lyfrassir would lovingly be inclined to call a bear belly, blonde hair in a line from the thicket between his thighs to the one on his chest that isn't quite thick enough to mask the white scarring around his nipples. His hair— longer now than when they first joined the crew, to his shoulders maybe— is splayed on the pillow under his head, framing round cheeks and what was a goatee, now a short beard. The most rowdy thing about him is his makeup, smeared from two days’ wear, and even that seems faded some in the quiet of the moment.

Aurora provides no extra light for Jonny’s portrait— Lyfrassir works by the light of the aged sun she passes, casting a dull red on his skin.

Jonny looks almost peaceful. Almost, if not for the weariness etched into every line of his face.

Lyf thinks about the nineteen year old who died on New Texas and chokes up, and Jonny— for all his usual bluster— just gestures for them to come lay down next to him and pets a hand through their long hair, letting them weep into his firm, ticking chest without a word.

ASHES

Ashes O’Reilly is next, a cigarette on their lips.

Ashes’ gaze is caught on Lyfrassir, and though they seem genuinely interested in their working hands, the artist still feels their face grow hot.

Ashes is less stoic than they had expected. The quartermaster is comfortable, a flickering curiosity in their dark eyes and the quirk of their pierced lips. Lyfrassir can’t help but wish they could stand and walk over and cup those round cheeks, brush their fingers over the curling peach fuzz at the sides of their face; they stop themself, though. They’re painting wet on wet, the break would show. And so they paint, and let their gaze wander, and fight with the flicker of the candlelight they’re working by, glad at least that Ashes looks positively dreamy in their element, the tips of their coiled hair diffusing the warm light nicely on their round face and thick neck.

The way their legs part, the way they slump comfortably back into the couch, and the hand not holding the cigarette behind their head all scream power; the hang of their belly, their plush breasts, the shine in their sharp eyes and the thoughtful furrow of their brow… that’s all just Ashes, laid naked without any great scheme or alias.

It isn’t their expression the painter finds themself lost in, though. It’s the lightning-strike stretch marks on their thick inner thighs and on their strong arms and the stretch of their fat belly, sharp lines on plump flesh that catch their attention like a cat watching a laser pointer. Ashes huffs a pleased laugh, drawing attention to their glossy lips and the shimmer of firelight on their dark skin, in their eyes.

The portrait, in the end, is as stunning as the quartermaster, and they kiss the painter gently in thanks. Lyfrassir feels their heart melt a little.

(Later, Lyf makes a point of having dinner with just Ashes; lights some candles, makes their favorite dish, and they talk for hours, giggling from good company and whiskey.)

TIM & BRIAN

Gunpowder Tim, like Marius, doesn’t sit still long enough normally. So he is laid against Brian’s side with a large metal hand in his hair and another splayed across his flat tummy, nimble fingers occasionally tracing light circles into his skin.

That keeps him still enough.

Tim is dozing off as time goes on, idly chatting with Brian whose hands appear to do wonders on his scalp and general tension. In the same way, his whole countenance loses some of its… high-strung nature— his jaw unclenched, limbs loose, metal eyes slipping closed. Metal eyes surrounded by lines of metal like veins where they couldn’t fit under the skin, still doe-eyed and gorgeous. His hair tumbles loosely around him on the pillow, auburn curls like rolling gunsmoke, trailing over his thin cheeks and well-kept beard and muttering lips. The gunner’s own hands rest on his small breasts. The smooth V of his hips leads to a bit of pudge just under his navel, the bulge of it sitting pretty on his otherwise lithe frame. His long legs are crossed, hairy, all smooth muscle and usually ready to break off in a dead sprint at a moment’s notice— for now, though, they’re almost limp. He is small in Brian’s arms, no matter how tall the painter knows him to be.

Brian, wrapped around Tim as he is, is partially hidden by the smaller man (everyone’s smaller than him, he’s got to be over seven feet tall). And for all the hardness the brass and copper of his body should hold, he’s inarguably… the man is shaped like a friend. Round face; kind, drooping eyes; a neat mane of waving copper wire. Whoever sculpted him did so with love and skill— every curve and contour Lyf finds is natural. He peers out over the top of Tim’s head, presses a soft kiss to the gunner’s head, and cuddles him just the slightest bit closer once he’s confident that Lyf has solidified their poses. They look longingly over his barrel chest, the way his sides still somehow form a roll above the hip.

Lyf has to blink to pull their attention back to the canvas.

Brian and Tim have their few quiet hours together, until Tim gets antsy again and the portrait is done and Brian lets him go, sitting for Lyf to sketch him one last time. He kisses them as he goes, and they hum happily into it.

RAPHAELLA

Raphaella la Cognizi proves the painter’s theory that the crew of the Aurora just never sits still, and that Ashes and Brian are anomalies. (Lyfrassir has reached the point of accepting that they can’t get a portrait of the Toy Soldier for a different reason; without its animated movements, it just looks wrong and lonely. They settle for giving it a few dozen sketches of itself in action with its companions, and it delights.)

Raphaella wakes late in the morning cycle to find Lyfrassir sat beside her in the bed— they had been cuddled up together, her wings around them, and she nearly whimpers for them to lay back down before she sees the canvas in their lap and the tray of paints on their knee. She hums, remembering their conversation about this from the night prior, and rolls over onto her back with a wing pulled up around her side and a hand on her stomach, her head turned to face Lyf on the pillow.

They smile fondly down at her and brush a hand through her curls, letting out a coo when she presses her head into their hand. They ask if she’s comfortable, she nods, and they pull away to start their work.

They’ve heard vague descriptions of angels in their travels, heard Raphaella compared to them over and over again, but they don’t think any comparison is right. Raph is Raph, with her slightly crooked lips and wide face and dark brows that they want to pepper in little kisses. She radiates a sleepy sort of contentment, and everything about the scientist is so soft and lovely (at this point in any of the other portraits they would have stopped themself— but she said they could fawn over her, so they fawn). Her breasts are uneven, as their own are, and the smooth curves of her body lead into wide hips, thick thighs, and a pillowy tummy that they’d do anything to rest their head on. Her legs are thick, sturdy, and her arms soft and Lyf is forced to think of the stolen paintings of sprenaissance women that Marius keeps in his quarters. Her pose is simple, and they’ve drawn her so many times before, the painting goes quickly.

Raphaella waits for her painter to set their canvas and paints and brush on the nightstand before tugging them down into the bed with her, pulling a yelp out of them.

Lyfrassir dobs a dot of paint on her nose and she gasps, mockingly affronted, before rubbing up against Lyf’s face like a cat and smearing a bit of yellow paint across their cheek. They grumble lovingly and pull her a little closer, tugging the sheets over their heads.

#the mechanisms #my fic #lyfrassir edda #marius von raum #jonny dville #ivy alexandria #ashes o'reilly #gunpowder tim #drumbot brian #raphaella la cognizi #the toy soldier #there are. so many of them #polymechs

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