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#normally i’d add more tags but i’m not trying to start an entire war. just a battle 🥳

fandomgodmother420 · 3 years

Text

Okay so I saw

This post ^^

And I was like

Wait wait wait okay okay hang on wait a damn minute-

Because this is cursed rite we all know this is cursed but somethin about it got me thinkin it got me thinking quite a lot and it’s the idea of Callahans character being deaf and like obviously the way it’s done here is bad but it got me thinking okay well what if you did it well? What if it wasn’t garbage? What if it became a super important part of the show?

I think I have a new favorite au now?

Okay listen listen let me explain right-Callahan would still be a side character to the side characters but first things first he’d talk using sign language and literally the first thing that he signs when people try and talk to him is that he’s deaf. He also wouldn’t be able to understand people who talk to him, they’d have to either sign, write something down, or be super expressive. (Ik a lot of deaf people read lips but I feel like in media with deaf people almost all the time they like fully rely on lip reading and their almost superhumanly good at it and idk I think it would be cool for a deaf character to just not lip read-hardly ever) so now the fact that he’s deaf isn’t just something that you can drop in interviews for brownie points. Still, he’s hardly ever there and he’s not really a part of the story and that’s just kind of annoying and for a while it seems like that’s just how it’s gonna be, just one background background deaf character who’s pretty cool but who we almost never get to see...

But the explosions that went off during the pogtopia manburg war where pretty fuckin loud

And Quackity was right on top of them. He might’ve lost a cannon life to them-it’s kinda up for debate but for the purpose of the au we’re gonna say he did, because losing a cannon life affects your body. Your body changes to suit how you died-you get scars from losing a cannon life.

Here’s where it gets good

One of the next episodes post war is 100% Quackity focused and he wakes up in a bed and he’s like welp lets just hope I’m not as bad off as Tubbo was. There’s no rustling noise when he moves the sheets and blankets to look at himself, at this point the viewer might realize there’s no music in the background either, there’s no ambient noises from outside. Quackity sees he doesn’t have visible scaring anywhere and he’s like that’s weird but good for me? I guess? He walks outside and his footsteps don’t make any noise. Tubbo runs up to him and starts talking-except he’s not making any noise either. His mouth is moving but there’s no sound coming out of it. Both quackity and the viewer are currently experiencing what’s going on in 100% silence and Quackity starts to panic. A scar would’ve been fine, a limb he can live without, but this??? He can’t hear! He can’t hear anything! Fuck is he supposed to do now?

He runs to Sapnap and Karl, they’re not dating yet but they make him feel safe and he doesn’t know where else to go or what to do and Sapnaps like “I know a guy” but neither the audience nor Quackity hears him say it. His mouth moves but again, no sound. Nothing. Still he makes it clear that he has an idea and that he’ll be right back. Mans fuckin books it to Callahan and after a bit of frantic gestures and sloppy sign language because ya know of course Sapnap did try to learn sign to talk to Callahan at some point he just doesn’t practice nearly enough, Callahan comes over to Quackity and starts teaching him and Karl ASL and gives Sapnap a much needed review course.

That’s it. That’s the episode. An entire episode that’s 100% silent with no subtitles, that’s just Quackity learning how to function without being able to hear. In the places where Callahan can’t help Sapnap and Karl come in. Tubbo gets in on it too since he’s deaf in one ear ever since the festival. (Quackitys like damn cheif I didn’t even kno that and Tubbo admits to thinking it was just him being in shock for a long time until a bee flew around his ear for 20 minutes straight a week after the festival had happened and he didn’t know it was there until Tommy asked if he was gonna name it.) Quackity learns how to talk when he can’t hear himself speaking, how to read lips, what music is like when you can’t hear it, how to speak sign language, all that jazz.

One of the things about being deaf that scares the shit out of Quackity is not being able to hear people sneaking up on him and Tubbos like “oh you need a spotter” and Quackity makes it clear that he has no idea what the fuck that means. So Tubbo explains “a spotter, I don’t know if they actually have a different name but I call them that cuz they cover your blind spot. They’re like your eyes and ears where you don’t have any. That way nobody can sneak up on you.” If the audience is particularly observant they’ll realize that ever since the festival Tommy has always stood on Tubbos right, witch is where Tubbo had gotten scarred. (Later on after Tommy’s exiled Quackity and sometimes Fundy become the ones to cover Tubbos right, but Tubbo is more clearly on constant high alert than he used to be. On a few days like the one before the capturing techno and the one before the second festival he’s straight up jumpy and he hates it) So Quackity of course has a lot of questions is this is pretty important. “well how do I know who I should get to be my spotter? Do they need like training or something? Should I just get a service dog? ???” And Tubbos like “No. Well-maybe that’s the proper way to do it but I’d just go with someone I trust my life with-whoever makes you feel safest, go with that” and Sapnap and Karl start laughing like idiots because Quackity IMMEDIATELY grabs them-like Tubbos barley finished his sentence and Quackitys like ah yes

The hardest part is preserving Quackitys ability to speak Spanish, because he’s the only one who knows it so Karl Sapnap and Tubbo can’t tell him weather he’s pronouncing it right or not and none of them know Spanish sign language. Hell Karl and Tubbo didn’t even know Spanish sign language existed until that day. After a bit of panicking Sapnap is like “wait I know a guy” and Quackity can actually tell what he’s saying this time. (Woo parallels) So sapnap and Co. go to George who’s king now and has access to all of Erets king stuff. Turns out Erets castle has a whole shelf of translation guides for different languages and their sign language counterparts. She kept them for diplomacy reasons. It’s much harder to learn without Callahan teaching it, but progress is made and the gang decides they’ll keep working on learning it together. There’s still the problem of Quackity not being able to speak Spanish though, they end up going with does Quackity sound like how he normally does rn? for figuring out if he’s pronouncing things right. Karl and Sapnap are surprisingly good at being able to tell.

But here’s the best part rite:

So after this episode Quackity, Karl, Sapnap, Tubbo, and obvs Callahan all know sign language-they don’t all know it perfectly nobody’s gonna master it in a day but they’re working on it. And so now in later episodes in addition to the gang talking in sign language a lot when they’re the focus of a scene, you can make them talk to eachother in sign language while other stuff is going on!! No subtitles to translate or draw attention to it, some people might not even notice its happening, but if you watch them you can see them signing to eachother. You could add so many convos and lore and secrets and the best part is if the audience wants in on it they also have to learn sign language!!

Literally just-oh my god it would be the coolest thing okay like immagine:

Ranboos doing his dramatic speech to everyone. Y’all know the one-the one before doomsday after Tommy gets out of exhile. So like Ranboos doing his bit and Fundy and Nikki are arguing with him and :0! what’s this? Look in the background and Tubbo and Quackity are signing to eachother, Quackitys angry and Tubbo is somehow angrier and you watch them more closely to see what the hell is going on and realize (with your sign language knowledge)-they’re fighting about executing Ranboo.

LIKE HOW FUCKING COOL WOULD THAT BE HOLY SHIT

Anyways I have so many headcannons for this now I think it’s the coolest thing if there’s like a tag? Or something? For this thatd be so fuckin cool if there isn’t I feel like I should make one but idk what to call it ion know man I just think this is poggers as hell. To think it all sprung from someone making a DreamSMP as a garbage riverdale show joke

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jksangelic · 5 years

Text

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot.

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak.

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

Part Six

It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

Part Seven

After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

Part Eight

You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

Final Part

You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one.

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it.

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

Text

prompts & requests.

SO...I never meant to delay this for so long, I’m so sorry for this, but I’m excited to rejuvenate this page -- I’m quite bad with tumblr, but I just hit 350 followers and I figured I’d put in a second dime for trying to make this little account work. People seem to like my little writings (which surprises me tbh, but I appreciate the love) and I’ve gotten a lot of questions about requests, so here’s the masterpost of all that for here!

PLEASE NOTE: I don’t use Tumblr too regularly, I’m trying to be more active but because of life & stuff, I’m not always active to write. Plus, just because you request something, doesn’t mean I will automatically be able to give that! It takes time, inspiration, and often the ability to form a sentence, which weirdly I struggle with. Way too often.

ALSO! please feel free to check out the kofi link in my bio (can’t link it here bc tumblr doesn’t like links and this won’t show up at all) and buy me a coffee if you feel like it! please don’t if you can’t and i’m not trying to force, guilt or forcibly nudge anyone to do it, it’s just if you can and want to support me, that’d be real sweet. :)

WHO I WRITE FOR...most people look at this acc for tua writings, which i’ve got an abundance of! I’m quite fine with any requests of any characters, except for five (unless like it’s some aged up version of him; I don’t feel comfy writing about him and I just don’t care to). I also will write for a lot of other fandoms if you ask for them: those including marvel, stranger things (those of age, i’m not writing stories about minors), harry potter and a couple others. Just ask me, I’ll let you know if I write for the fandom & we can move from there, darling. :)

HOW TO REQUEST...I prefer not too many details in a request, just so I still feel inspired to write the piece. So, if you’re asking based on a prompt below, tell me the number(s), the character you’re looking for, and any details you feel necessary to add! Remember, nothing too specific, like don’t give me the entire plot but things like genre, atmosphere, details on the reader are okay. I usually write either genderless or female reader (I try to stick with the former to be accommodating) but you can ask for a specifically gender-neutral or female/male reader too. This also applies to fics you want garnered to a specific section of the LGBTQIA+ community (for example, if you wanted a lesbian reader with Vanya Hargreeves). I try not to add any details to appearance to the story so that everyone can enjoy the fic, but again you can ask for any specific and I will try my best to accomodate for you lovelies.

REQUEST EXAMPLE - “Can you write something with prompt number 3 and 17? Preferably with a gender-neutral reader, and with Allison Hargreeves? I’d like it to be a happy fic, please, and for the reader to not have any powers. Also, they’re a cat person! Thanks!”

Obviously, I know most people know what’s up and are respectful. But just in case you wanted an example, there you go. :)

PROMPTS LIST

(these were made by me and to my knowledge, they’re not used elsewhere, only some were taken off my last requests list. also, feel free to mix + match and ask for as many as you want)

Quote Based Prompts:

1. ‘I think I’m falling for you,’ clumsy character. 2. ‘C’mon, this is definitely safe!’ 3. ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ + ‘Why, is there something you want to tell me?’ 4. ‘Shut up about your black coffee aesthetic and try my (insert here) drink.’ 5. ‘I’m only asking for a hug because I forgot my coat and you’re like a human furnace...don’t get any ideas.’ 6. ‘Just five more minutes.’ 7. ‘And you’re sure this isn’t illegal?’ 8. ‘Wanna go get married?’ 9. ‘I love you” “don’t lie to me’ 10. ‘I hate you’ + ‘no, you don’t.’ 11. ‘let’s dance to taylor swift and forget about reality for a moment, please.’ 12. ‘why don’t you trust me?’ 13. ‘promise me, we’ll make it out of this alive.’ 14. ‘we can’t just pushing each other away and expecting things are going to change.’ 15. ‘why are you helping me?’ 16. ‘tell me a secret.’ 17. ‘you can’t friend-zone me, we’re married!’ 18. ‘is this the end?’ 19. ‘I let you win.’ 20. ‘go away’ + ‘no, not until I know you’re okay’ 21. ‘we were supposed to be forever.’ 22. ‘nothing’s fair in love and war.’ 23. ‘I want to be here for the good and the bad.’ 24. ‘So...what happened this time?’ 25. ‘I just really wanted to see you.’ 26. ‘Uh, that’s the whole point?!’ 27. ‘You cut your hair?’ + ‘I just needed a change.’ 28. ‘I can’t lose you too, dammit!’ 29. ‘Don’t lie, you’re a hopeless romantic at heart.’ 30. ‘Can we keep it?!’ 31. ‘Why can’t this happen like it does in the movies?!’ 32. ‘Can you come with me? It’s just to get gum, but I don’t want to be alone.’ 33. ‘I made muffins!’ + ‘You can bake?!’ 34. ‘I can’t sleep.’ + ‘We can share.’ 35. ‘It used to be so simple...’ 36. ‘STOP SINGING THAT SONG OR-’ + ‘-or what?’ 37. ‘I just wanted to tell you...you look really nice tonight.’ 38. ‘Ooh, show me, show me!’ 39. ‘I really wish I could paint, because you’re the perfect muse right now.’ 40. ‘Where’d you learn how to do that?’ 41. ‘Hey, it’s okay...you’re safe now.’ 42. ‘Am I in heaven?’ + ‘Aw, you think I’m your idea of heaven?’ 43. ‘I’m not crying!’ + ‘Oh, so it’s normal for your eyes to leak like that?’ 44. ‘Why wouldn’t you tell me that sooner?!’ 45. ‘What do you think of kids?’ 46. ‘Do you think I’m a good person?’ 47. ‘Don’t look down.’ + ‘You’re only telling me that now?!’ 48. ‘It’s okay...it’s going to be okay...’ 49. ‘I didn’t think it would hurt so much to do this.’ 50. ‘Nerd.’ + ‘Loser.’ 51. ‘Wait, you actually came?’ 52. ‘You didn’t notice the one bed before?!’ + ‘It didn’t say on the website!’ 53. ‘I’m in the hospital, but don’t worry--’ + ‘Don’t worry?!’ 54. ‘Yeah, I was jealous. So what?’ 55. ‘Did you know you talk when you sleep?’ 56. ‘Of course I kept it. Why wouldn’t I?’ 57. ‘I can’t get you out of my head...’ 58. ‘I made you it because I love you, duh.’ 59. ‘I trust you.’ 60. ‘How am I supposed to trust you?!’ 61. ‘You have to start getting better excuses.’ 62. ‘I think they like you!’ 63. ‘I swear if you sing baby it’s cold outside ONE MORE TIME--’ 64. ‘You’re telling me you don’t know all the words to Promiscuous? Who are you?!’ 65. ‘I only went along with it for your sake, you know I hate (insert here).’ 66. ‘Hold my hand but only so we don’t get lost. I don’t need you getting any ideas about us.’ 67. ‘Loosen up, jackass, and give in to evil a little more!’ 68. ‘You didn’t respond to any of my texts, so I assumed you were either dying or crying. I brought answers to both situations.’ 69. ‘That’s it. I’m officially convinced that you’re actually three years old.’

Situation Based Prompts: 1. Person A refuses to dress for the cold and gets sick; Person B is stuck taking care of them afterwards. 2. Person A finds a stray and wants to take it home, but Person B isn’t so interested. 3. Coffee Shop AU; Person A shows up every Saturday to work, and Person B becomes infatuated with the mysterious person. 4. Person A wants to watch a scary movie. Person B accepts, too chicken to admit they’re terrified of horror movies. 5. Person A falls asleep, and Person B plays with their hair. 6. Person A and B wake up hungover and realise that they got married last night. 7. ‘Oh...you love them’, where Person A realises that their real feelings for Person B. 8. Person A is a Christmas enthusiast, but Person B hates the holiday season. 9. (School Based Prompt); Person A doesn’t know how to talk to Person B, and decides to pretend to need help in a subject they definitely don’t need help with. 10. Person A decides to confess their feelings to Person B through a series of anonymous gifts...only they aren’t who B suspects behind it all... 11. Person A and B have a Catwoman/Batman type relationship, dancing around one another and ignoring their obvious feelings. 12. Younger!Person A and B shared their first kiss with each other -- not because of feelings, JUST to get it over with. It never meant anything, right? 13. There’s only a little bit of time left for Person A...will they make it to B, in time? 14. (Flower Shop AU) Person A comes in every day to purchase the same single flower every time, and Person B has no clue why. 15. (Villain/Hero AU) Person A goes home to find B in their bed, bleeding and fast asleep. 16. Person A has a fear of driving. Person B finally asks why. 17. (School Based AU) Person A and B get paired together to complete a project worth a lot of their grade. The only problem? They hate each other. 18. (Coffee Shop AU) Person A comes in every day with a different name and sunglasses on, ordering the same thing every time. And Person B is obsessed. 19. Person A has a hard day at work. Person B doesn’t know what they should do to help. 20. Person A finally finds out about Person B’s big secret -- only, it doesn’t come from Person B. 21. Person A is the most oblivious person in the world. Person B is slowly losing their mind over it. 22. Everyone thinks that Person A and C are meant to be together, and it’s only A and B who really, really don’t see it. 23. And they were roommates (oh my god, they were roommates...) 24. Person A’s roommate’s boyfriend is over again, and they escape to Person B’s for peace of mind. 25. Person A finds a random bag and is determined to return it to the owner -- only, all the clues she has for who the person really is, is in the contents of the bag. 26. (Party Based Prompt) Person A and B really, really didn’t want to go to the party. But maybe meeting one another makes it worth it. 27. Person A and B go laser-tagging for some stress relief. 28. There’s a Halloween party and neither A or B knows who the other is going as. But the (insert costume) standing in the corner is looking rather suspicious... 29. (Apocalypse AU) Person A and B have been struggling for months alone, and finally reach something that gives them hope. 30. Person A and B both head to the roof for some escape. They definitely didn’t expect to see someone in their special place... 31. Person A works really late shifts downtown; Person B always makes sure they’re there to give them a ride, no matter how inconvenient it is. 32. Person A forgets about changing their emergency contact, and this backfires when they end up in the hospital... 33. (Soulmate AU) In a world where people don’t age past 21 until they meet their soulmate, Person A is surprised to learn that the partner they’ve been with for four years hasn’t aged a day -- but they have. 34. (Airport AU) Everything shuts down in a last-minute snowstorm, leaving two strangers stranded. 35. (School AU) Everyone ships Teacher A and B together, and scheme to finally set them up. 36. Person A and B ride the train together every day. 37. (Doctor AU) Person A has to take Person C to the doctors. Much to both surprise, Person A falls quickly for the Doctor who comes in (Person B) -- and Person C takes it upon themselves to let B know. 38. (Neighbours AU) Person A is tired of hearing Person B being so loud so late at night -- especially when they have to get up super early. They finally decide to confront them on it. 39. (Soulmate AU) Everyone has the same cuts, bruises and scars as their soulmate, which really freaks out Person A, who becomes determined to find their soulmate to make them stop getting hurt. 40. Person A and B are hiding their relationship from everyone. They’re not very good at it. 41. Person A finally trusts Person B to meet their (insert here); the last step in their relationship. 42. Person A sends their text to the LAST person they wanted to send it to: Person B. 43. (Delivery Person AU) Person A somehow always manages to be the one to sign for the office packages...does Person B have anything to do with it? (Also, why does A keep buying so much stuff?!) 44. (Arranged Marriage) Person A is being forced into a marriage to Person C neither they or Person B wants. But B might just have a plan out... 45. (Bodyguard AU) Person A always knew that Person C was rich, but never rich enough to need a legit bodyguard. But when C’s father’s company is threatened, they call in the big dogs -- and they’re cute, too. Aka...A makes a point to catch the attention of Person B at any time possible, much to their upset. 46. (University AU) Person A needs a model. Person B needs a way to occupy their afternoon. Thus, a deal is struck. 47. Person A is a private detective hired to work the case on a mysterious murder (that strangely, Person C doesn’t want getting out). Person B is C’s lead suspect, but A can’t help but feel like they’re not the real culprit... 48. Person A drags Person B along onto a roadtrip across the country to go visit their oddball grandparents. But things go south quickly. 49. Person A gets robbed, and has no one to call when they can’t shake the nightmares but Person B. 50. Person A can manipulate time, but only by an hour. Person B doesn’t know this, but gets suspicious when they see A do something very, very weird... (you can supply more details for this one) 51. (Neighbours AU) Person A and B have the thinnest walls ever, which would suck, but they both oddly have the exact same taste in music. It’s nice; if only they got to meet. 52. (Store AU) Person A and B get locked into their work’s freezer for the night. 53. (Coffee Shop AU) Person B has never met Person A; they always miss them by only a minute. They do, however, manage to sit at the exact same table every day and pick up the piece of art they leave for the next customer. 54. Person A has loved Person B their entire life. Too bad they’ll never get to tell them. 55. (Diner AU) Person A meets Person B at three in the morning when they stumble in soaked. They’re surprised, when they show up again...and again...at the exact same time. 56. (5+1) Five times Person A told Person B they loved them, and the one time Person B finally said it back. 57. (5+1) The five times Person A surprises Person B, and the one time Person B surprises A. 58. (5+1) The five times Person A broke Person B’s heart, and the one time they didn’t. 59. (5+1) The five times Person A saved Person B...and the one time Person B couldn’t save A. 60. (5+1) The five times A and B almost meet, and the first time they finally do. 61. (5+1) The five times Person A lies to Person B, and the one time they finally tell the truth. 62. Person B is like, super allergic to dogs. But Person A doesn’t need to know that. 63. Person A has no clue how to tell Person B how they feel. So, they make a playlist. 64. Person A and B accidentally switch luggage at the airport.

Happy requesting, darlings.

#diego hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #lila pitts x reader #mine #requests #peter parker x reader #michelle jones x reader #ned leeds x reader #harry potter x reader #hp x reader

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captainkurosolaire · 4 years

Text

~Update

Just a mega OOC blog synopsis for the future entails.

Think this shall be my norm wrapping up a month with updating or least attempt to unless something comes up. ------ Achieved a great bit this month though, however, my goals are still much grander and higher than this. Most likely, I’ll be trying for Seven Chapters a month, something of that number, I haven’t confirmed with myself whether to do halve in the first two-weeks or save and burst. Debating also if I do smaller doses which means, I’ll get to quality it up better. Or I can take quantity and actual move the story along these next parts are essentially the quarter-stone, to introduction to crewmates, NPC crew recruitment, dramatic affairs, outright Scourges of the Seas which essentially in my building are these tyrant of pirate crew’s that all will have their own structures, organizations, purposes, powers. Lot of them essentially build up to the Captain confronting his past now in broad-light and gradually get him back to everything that matters. Quality is often a preferred recommendation I’d say, but the bulk of what I need to tell and thing is hugely massive since it’ll span for a longtime. More reason why I need to get my mind and health mastered so I can effortlessly do quality in one sit. I’ve been having a blast doing a daily challenge of photo-sets but I’ll probably put that on hold until I get my story pictures captured as a reward to myself, then I’ll resume. Mainly was utilized to train myself in learning a bit better how to capture stuff, I want to add more visualizations and emotions for my writes. With the upcoming Crew NPC’s they’re all going to have their own functional emotions and weights.My lofty goal outright is to give them sort of a karma system and before [Huge Massive Thrillers] They’ll be determined by Captain’s rolls and decisions and overall since I’ll make a whole grid, they’ll unlock benefits or they’ll succumb more injuries dependent on the Captain’s ability to captivate or sour them. Also got plans to have them unlock their own side-quests and additional things of that nature. I figured if I can write out an entire tabletop game of sixty classes and thirty races and stats alongside world building with that, or DM for groups. I can manage to siphon those passionate antics into my newest. Genre of NPC Crew is going to be an assorted and wild cast that’s largely because think it’ll do service for allowing Captain to display a more healthy arrange of emotions and show sides I normally couldn’t write out or do in previous. By having this assembled cast I get to do more dramatic scenes and relationships not just with the Captain either, but them in a fullness. ------ My goal before the end of the year is to reach the story arc where I do Budokai 3, unlike previously, this one will be hardcore piracy symbolic. Tribunal. It’ll be a type of match stipulation unique, I’ll say... The result, potentially will start something incidentally that’ll spiral a downturn. Next year the goal is the meat and bones. I’ll be aiming for this huge massive War Arc. It’ll be bloody and gory, traumatic, there will be treaties and all sorts of other crew’s splayed out, islands, all kinds of world building on the big vast blue.This one threat is so massive it’ll take literally everything to overcome and accommodate for the Captain to prevail, if does. Going to be losses and all sorts of fallen death’s. Most my writes going forward are going to have a tag #reader discretion advised that’ll opt you out as option. When we get to overwhelming TW things I’ll do my best to actually put those appropriately with thoughts. We just got to remember we’re still reading and following a Pirate background it’s not supposed to be forgiving in a life that’s constant tides. Though I sort of going to throw again in a lot of ranging emotions and these cast of characters I’ve brewed, they should suffice. Might start off a bit bland in conception but narrative going to allow that to be a driver and let them flourish and bloom on their own to intensify their backgrounds. Also I been scouring for certain mods or just tweaks to get their designs in mind, I’ll probably make alternative costumes as my roomie joked I should give them as a symbolization they unlocked their next stage of perk for the reader. xD As they progress so does the Crew and that’s overall the ambitiously main part that’ll be exciting. Unlocking tag-team techniques, finishing blows to overwhelming enemies, new abilities and perks, resolves of conflicts that won’t just follow our normal character’s narrative since I’m giving reasoning for shine and progress while allow my character to be freed for other narratives, threads and ships all those are paramount for the War. Everything is a factor. ------ Still chipping at threads nearly catching up so I’ll get more taken. I’m working on actually getting decent at couple-posing so I can properly do probably actual ships. Imagine a pirate not having them actively going, I have an excuse why not to do nearly as much NSFW for this blog for this particular character despite how shameless and provocative this character really is but I chose a latter option. Anyway, probably won’t just me strictly romantic too, I’ll see if people want to collaborate for platonic or any-kind. Or if want the means just to take photo’s of Captain either whether it’s slaughter or w/e just poke in DM. I’ll be working on getting better continuously though. ------ Closing ------ Congratulations to all the people who competed and participated on the FFXIVWrite though so many killer talents and writers. I’ll work on creating a que and system for that to allow me to boost those as well in some time-gaps, when I find the time. Want to create a tag for it. Also my bad on highlight tags. I’d like to be able to comment pacifically more life on each thing with comments, though my brain is a jumbled wire often, I feel like a robot beep-bop. Though lots of glorious blogs and characters I want to showcase and give back especially for the people that have ventured with me this long. Lot’s I’ve seen and notice and appreciate em’ and new people too that are beginning their ascension into this community or refuges my goal is to hoist them directly up. As Captain eventually is too learning that is something important for him to understand fundamentally for him to achieve where all dream’s lay and reside. Ideally it’s introducing people to blog’s too for following or potential contacts. ------- Cheers, hearties. Last Update

#end of month update #goals etc #this probably be my ending month thing #part of the whole transparent #this is long #Tales of the Goldbrand #Reach better soon I swear lol

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

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Little Lady: Chapter 3

Prologue/Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Clark Kent x OFC (Vix/Melanie)

Series Summary:

Chapter Summary: Melanie wakes up, hurt and confused, and receives answers that are hard to swallow.

Author’s Note: My sincerest gratitude to @yespolkadotkitty for being my beta on this series! Love you!

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 1,734

I’m surrounded by an endless, unforgiving cold. I don’t know if I’m dead or somewhere between life and death. All I know is I don’t like this darkness, this emptiness, this coldness. A distant whisper of a voice draws me out of the darkness, coaxing me towards the light. It hurts. Everything hurts. I stop for a second. The darkness pulls me back in, pushing out the pain as well as the light. The voice calls to me again. I turn towards it--only to feel that same flash of pain. I hear my name. My real name. This voice knows me somehow, and I need to know who it belongs to. So I swim through the darkness, ignore the pain as best I can, and move towards the light--towards that voice.

***

The first thing I see when I blink my eyes open are brown eyes staring down at me. They’re eclipsed by a beautiful sea of warm olive-toned skin. It’s a woman. It’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I know her--that fact is planted deep inside of me--but I can’t remember her name. I reach out to her--

Only to find that I can’t move. My entire body is stuck, frozen, immobilized. I begin to panic.

“It’s okay,” she assures me, her foreign accent thick and soft as butter. “Just breathe, Natalie. You’re okay.”

Her words manage to calm me to the point of breathing steadily again. But I still have so many questions: Who is she? How do I know her? Where am I? Why can’t I move?

“You’re in a state of temporary paralysis,” she explains. “It should wear off in an hour.”

My eyes widen. “Temporary… paralysis?!”

She opens her mouth to say something, then pauses. Finally she asks, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

I blink, fishing for my most recent memory. Heat. That’s what I remember. My most recent client--what was his name? Collin? No--Clark. Clark Kent--lit a fire in me, just under the surface of my skin, and I lost the ability to breathe as he kissed me. I’ve never felt like that just from kissing a guy before. It’s never been that intense.

“Clark?” the woman guesses, seeing the blush on my cheeks.

Oh god--had I talked about him while I’d been out? How else would she know who was making me blush like this?

I nod.

“Do you remember what he did to you?” she asks hesitantly.

The memory hits me like a train--grinding against his raging hard-on, desperate to chase my own high, and his mouth latching onto a sensitive spot on my neck. His teeth latching onto a sensitive spot on my neck. I try to raise a hand to my neck, where I know there will be a deep scar, but again--I can’t move.

“Yes.” I swallow, the memory making fear rise in my chest until I want to vomit.

“She’s afraid of you,” the woman says, and after I frown in confusion I realize she said it to someone behind me.

I struggle to see them out of my peripheral vision, but barely make out the familiar shape of a huge man in a nice suit. Clark. He’s here. Is he going to hurt me again?

The woman must notice the fear in my eyes because she grabs my hands and gives them a reassuring squeeze. I can feel her touch but I can’t respond to it. “It’s okay, I won’t let anything happen to you,” she assures me.

I give her a grateful smile before looking back at Clark. He’s as stunning as ever, though he looks a lot more relaxed now than he did in Lilith’s.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he tells me.

I frown at him. “You bit me, you freak! Of course I’m afraid of you!”

“I can explain,” he says, holding out his hands like he’s trying to tame a wild animal. Funny, considering this wild animal is currently paralyzed.

“I can’t wait to hear this.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m a vampire,” he begins.

I glare at him. “If you think you’re being funny--”

“I don’t.” His tone is too calm for someone who’s pulling a prank. “I’m telling you the truth.”

“Vampires don’t exist,” I argue. “I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” the woman says.

“One thing at a time, Diana,” Clark barks at her before returning his attention to me. “Vampires are real. Every magical creature you’ve ever read about is real. I could prove it to you, but it would be a lot less of a hassle if you just took my word for it.”

“Say vampires are real,” I say. “Say you’re one of them. Where’s the pale skin? The red eyes? The weird accent?”

Clark raises an eyebrow and smirks, amused. “You’re thinking of Dracula. He was one of the first; our kind has evolved since then. We’ve adapted and grown smarter. We now have the ability to walk in the daylight, hence the lack of pale skin. And our eyes are only red right after we’ve eaten. The color returns to normal after a few hours. Dracula had an accent because he was European; I’m from Kansas.”

“Okay fine,” I huff. “Say I’m crazy enough to believe you. Why did you come after me? What did I do to you?”

Clark exchanges a look with Diana.

“I’ll just be in the other room for a minute,” Diana says casually as she stands from the couch I’m lying on. “Shout if you need me to break his neck.”

Clark waits until she’s gone from the room to answer my questions. “What I’m about to tell is going to be hard to swallow.”

“Harder than you being a vampire?” I laugh.

He nods.

My laughter dies quickly.

“We’ve met before,” he begins. “We’ve known each other for five years.”

That’s impossible. I didn’t know this man before last night.

“But that was back in 1946,” he adds.

I’m too dumbfounded to laugh at that ridiculous statement.

“You’re a time traveler, Nat. We met in 1901. We dated for a few months before we had a big fight. You disappeared in time before I could make it right. I thought you were gone forever--but then, two decades later, I found you on the streets of New Orleans, dancing in a speakeasy. No matter how well you managed to change with the times, your dancing was always the one constant. I somehow convinced you to forgive me. We married in ‘28. But then you disappeared again on a mission to kill Hitler; it didn’t go as planned. I managed to find you again in 1945, just after the war ended. And then, at the end of that year, we found out that we’re… god, even after all this time it’s still hard for me to say it. I honestly can’t believe it still.”

“We found out that we’re what?” I press.

“That we’re soulmates,” he finally says.

I resist the urge to laugh at him. “You say that like it’s a real thing.”

His eyes flash, angry that something so important to him is being challenged. “It is. In our world--in our crazy, magical world--soulmates are an actual thing. It’s not like with humans, how they say someone they care a lot about is they’re soulmate. Magical creatures experience a bond with each other that no human ever will. It’s undeniable--once it clicks into place, there’s no going back from it. The universe chooses your soulmate for you and not even the strongest man can resist that kind of magic.”

I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around a single thing he’s said in the last two minutes. “You realize that, even if all of this is true, I’d be insane and incredibly naive to believe it right away.”

He nods solemnly, as if this is a fact that he hates but can’t ignore. “I know. But I want to give you the truth. You deserve at least that much.”

I frown, suddenly remembering something. “I’m still confused as to why you bit me.”

“It’s part of the soulmate ceremony,” he explains.

I stare at him blankly.

“In order for the bond to be complete, both people have to drink a drop of the other’s blood. I tried drinking your blood in ‘46, but I went too far. I couldn’t… I’d been denying myself the taste of your blood for so long that when I finally felt it on my tongue, I lost control. You almost died--I-I almost killed you. But you managed to escape to a different time--time travelling has some sort of weird healing effect on the traveler--and you regained your strength.”

“And last night was the first time you saw me again,” I guess, “and so you tried to complete the bond again.”

Clark nods, his eyes shining as I finally begin to understand.

“Is it? Completed, I mean.” I realize with a start that I’m starting to sound like I actually believe all the bullshit he’s feeding me. But I’m curious enough to play along. It’s curiosity, I assure myself, not belief.

“We won’t know until the effects of my bite wear off,” he says.

Diana said an hour. That was… what, fifteen minutes ago? Time will tell whether Clark is telling the truth or if he should be put in a mental institution.

“How did you know to go to Lilith’s?” I wonder.

He smiles to himself, as if appreciating a joke. “I saw a poster for you--for Vixen, I mean. I knew that name was yours. I had no doubt about it. That’s what I used to call you when we… when we were intimate.”

Well, he definitely talks like someone from the first half of the twentieth century.

“You know this all sounds insane, right?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Maybe to you. I’ve had several centuries to wrap my mind around it.”

“What happens when I can move again and I realize you’re feeding me a bunch of bullshit to excuse your blood kink?” I ask.

He moves to the couch and takes a seat on the other end, careful not to touch me like he can sense how uncomfortable I am. “When you can move again, and you realize I’m not feeding you bullshit, we can talk.”

And until then, we wait.

***

Tag Squad:

@agniavateira @hnryycvll @littlefreya @celestial-vomit @lestersglitterglue @watermeloncavill @honeychicana @penwieldingdreamer @mary-ann84 @elixasays @buckysgoldenheart @noz4a2 @trippedmetaldetector @omgkatinka @lunedelorient @aphrodites-punch @yespolkadotkitty @sweetybuzz25 @iloveyouyen @deathonyourtongue @utterlyhopeful @wondersofdreaming @tsukuyomi011 @the-soot-sprite @desperate-and-broken @jayismz @emelinelovesjc @palaiasaurus64 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @henrythickcavill @secretlyactivated @madbaddic7ed @persephonehemingway @geralt-of-baevia @stargazingfangirl18 @thedarkplume @spookypeachx @pensieveforyourthoughts @aletheladyinred

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!

#henry cavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fic #clark kent #clark kent imagine #clark kent x ofc #henry cavill superman #superman au

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afni-fics · 3 years

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Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 16: Tim Drake's Journal - 005

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 16: Tim Drake's Journal - 005 by C_R_Scott Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary:

After a solid several hours of sleep, Tim wakes up first shortly before sunrise. Lucien is still passed out after a late night of cataloging. Though he's still not well, he feels rested enough to try and power through the rest of the day. He coaxes the campfire back to life to warm some tea and adds a new journal entry.

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

January 28(?), 20XX (morning)

Survived the Barrows, collected the Dragonstone, and kept Lucien alive to tell the tale. I suppose that can be counted as a success.

Had too many close calls in that place, though.

If it hadn't been for Lucien and his magic...

Ok. I need to come to grips with reality. No more denial.

I'm hurt, bad. If I was back in Gotham I'd probably be in the hospital, or stuck in the infirmary at the Cave. Based on the description Lucien gave me of how things looked, especially on my back, I'm flirting with 4th degree burns... maybe permanent damage...

Alfred would be so disappointed with me.

I shouldn't have taken this mission. I probably made things worse with some of the blows I took in the Barrow from the spider and the Draugr. Lucien says I shouldn't worry about anything permanent until until after I get seen at the Temple. Apparently healing magic here is pretty powerful stuff.

Silver lining? I told Lucien some of the truth about me, or about as much as I'm willing to share right now. He figured something was off about me early on, but after he helped save my life a couple of times, I promised to explain what I could. I shared a map of Earth's continents and showed him where I come from, which, incidently, looks nothing like this world, or at least nothing resembles the continent of Tamriel or the country of Skyrim at all.

He... took it better than I expected. Apparently this world has some really bizarre history as well (multiple parallel timelines all taken as valid truth? an entire race vanishing at the same time?) Not sure if he believes everything I told him about Gotham and Earth, but I think he's serious about helping me find a way home.

He's working for a museum, which is in the process of amassing knowledge and artifacts about the history, magic, and mysteries of Skyrim. I suppose I can't find a better starting point for finding a way home than there.

I'm glad Lucien forced me to get some sleep last night. I feel a bit better this morning, but I think my burns are finally infected, and I'm not sure how much longer I can go dodging sepsis... we're making our way back to Whiterun today to deliver the Dragonstone. I just need to keep myself in one piece until we get done with that so I can go to that temple.

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

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2:

I wonder if I should include separate personal journal entries for Lucien as well as any other "companions" that join Tim on his journey... We'll see. If the fancy strikes me, I just might.

For anyone not familiar with Tim Drake/Red Robin's history, in the comic books a few years back when he last had his own solo series, Tim actually lost his spleen due to being caught in the crossfire between two warring assassination group factions (League of Assassins and Council of Spiders). This story takes place shortly after the end of that series. Because Tim lacks a spleen, he actually is immunocompromised and is at higher risk of complications when he gets infections or illnesses. Normally, he would be taking medication for this condition, but of course in Skyrim he's without those. All that's been supporting him are the vaccinations he had received over the years and recently and whatever antibiotics had been left in his system shortly before being spirited away from Earth to Nirn.

As things progress, Tim will find alternative means to cope with this in Skyrim for the long term, but for now all he can really do is take things one day at a time.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

#elder scrolls dc #fanfiction #tim drake #skyrim fanfiction #batfam fanfic #red robin #batfam #crossover #lucien flavius #wip #afewnovelideas

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tfw-no-tennis · 3 years

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mtmte liveblog issue 9

back at it again, and its time for the shadowplay arc, HELL yeah

oh I'm so excited i love this arc lets DO this

oooh its nightbeat and quark!! way before they become relevant, which is so cool

‘one of those recepticon fanatics’ lmao imagine if they were...the recepticons. just doesn't have the same ring to it

god i fucking love all the politics of mtmte. i love how they’re talking about the senate here before we really get to See how bad they were (we heard a bit about it from whirl a few issues ago, and now here)

love how nightbeat is pretty much agreeing with the decepticon ideology here, even if its clear that he isn't Actually a decepticon - it just drives home the fact that, in this story, The Decepticons Were Right About A Lot Of That Stuff (or at least, they had a reason other than ‘destruction’ for rebelling).

AND THEN THERES RUNG!!!!!!! WITH HIS MODEL OF THE LOST LIGHT....god i fuckgin LOVE the continuity in this story bc the first time reading this ur like oh ok rung is old yea makes sense...but then later all the time travel stuff happens and then its like OHHHHH

damn poor rung nightbeat can rlly tell he's lonely just by looking at him vbhjdkdfhbjsjkdf geez. also nightbeat that's ur mystery stick bf from the future js!!

quarks extreme POV on all of the stuff is so interesting, and makes so much sense bc of Course he would think that as a non-combatant scientist who, due to his functional value in current society, wouldn't really benefit much from a revolution - in fact, he’d probably lose a lot. and that’s the sort of thing where you’re like, ok well think about everyone else dude, have some perspective - but at the same time, quark did suffer a pretty terrible fate, so his fears weren't entirely unfounded...augh, its so fascinating...im sorry I'm not gonna shut up about space robot politics this Entire time

HOW did nobody notice that dead body before now

ratchet spray-painting the hands he stole from pharma to match his own paintjob is like...kinda gruesome if you think about it hvbhsjkdfbkjdf

i love rewind sooo much oh my god

he rlly stashed rung’s comatose body in a wheelchair behind the bar hbkjdhfbshjkdf rewind

rewind and chromedome’s tag-team explanation....ough hhhhh THEM

wait a sec, rewind, you have medical records in your database? that is, at least according to regular medical laws, very illegal lmao. my favorite long-running theme in mtmte: the fact that hipaa and osha laws on cybertron are either basically nonexistent, or just universally disregarded

what the actual fuck is up w/cybertronian time units. that shit is wack as hell

ooh i love how chromedome looks different in the flashback - no shoulder tires! - that's a cool detail

how come prowl just said ‘minute,’ rewind was busting it up w/all the wack ass fantasy time units just a second ago. geez

also goddd i love the scenery of pre-war cybertron, its SUCH a cool setting like, visually and aesthetically and politically

like, i adore details like the sign in the bg that says ‘everyone’s shape serves a purpose.’ really adds to the ‘society on the precipice of civil war currently controlled by an increasingly-desperate faction who are doling out propaganda like crazy in an attempt to maintain their image and control over the populace’ vibe

good ole murder mystery setup. love it!

pre-war prowl is such an interesting character. actually prowl in general is such an interesting character...I kinda wrote him off during my first read of mtmte (and even a little during my second readthru) as just this dude who’s an asshole (espec bc my prev tf experience involved watching tfa as a kid, and this prowl is very different from tfa prowl lol)...but prowl is SUCH a multi-faceted and interesting character, even in the relatively little we see of him in mtmte

plus it was interesting to learn later that prowl was one of the characters that jro wanted for mtmte and didn't get, and MAN i wish he got prowl bc I would've loved to see what jro would've done w/prowl on the lost light, that would've been amazing. like, just imagine the arc he would have...I have no idea what that arc would BE, but I know it would be awesome. plus I’d be really interested to see how prowl would factor in, relationships-wise, amongst the crew of the lost light. so much potential!

anyways. I'm in a very talky mood tonight it seems. its currently 4 am so that kinda explains it. ok, moving on!

chromedome and prowl bantering....in their own morbid forensic-cop way...

skids bvhjdbsfjasf. speaking what we’re all thinking: is prowl gonna keep showing up in mtmte despite not technically being part of the cast??

swerves drawing of prowl lmaoooo

AND THEN REWIND IN SOME OF MY FAVORITE MTMTE PANELS....fuckgin cracks me up every time god. rewind was rlly about to flip their entire ass table just to demonstrate that prowl is a serial table-flipper...and then he cant even make the table budge and he just stares at his hands like ‘how could you betray me like this’ hvbajkhhsfdhksdf PEAK hilarity

drift hvbshfdjbasdfj his forcibly cheery expression even tho he’s being harassed by rodimus, who is a big whiny toddler w/drift lmao

rodimus is the type of guy who, upon drift not replying to one of his texts, would post a whole twitter thread being all like ‘these days u cant trust any1 to hav ur back...u think u kno someone and then they just ghost you...(1/14)’

again, rewind, HOW and WHY do you just Have medical reports, oh my god, somebody please call a hipaa agent I’m scared,

ratchet interrupting the story to give a quick medical PSA....that's Such an on-brand thing for Me to do that I feel like jro is assigning me ratchet kin as I read this

also, hey, its sonic and boom, those two decepticons from delphi! nice little continuity there

AND HERES ORION PAX SUPER COP

can’t believe idw made my dad optimus prime into a cop. smh. shouldn't be that shocked tho, I feel like half the idw characters are cops

orion rlly hit them w/the omae wa mo shinderu arrest strat

orion: I cant believe you're beating this guy up. anyways, now I'm gonna beat YOU up,

when ratchet puts his hand over drifts mouth and then gets spray paint on drifts face bhjdfsvsdjhfgbjdskf

pre-war ratchet and drift ;_; ratchet’s little inspirational speech...the fact that he tells drift that he’s special...the fact that drift remembered all of this even after 4 million+ yrs...it gets me bro it GETS me

ALSO the layers in the fact that drift then goes on to become a well-known murderous decepticon...so this little scene of him and ratchet in the past gives a lot of context to ratchet’s general attitude towards drift - ratchet clearly feels at least somewhat responsible for all the blood on drift’s hands, since he saved drift’s life way back in the day

the whole relinquishment clinic thing is such cool worldbuilding, bc of course that's the kind of thing that would develop in a society of robot aliens who are only allowed to work within the rigid confines of their alt mode

I love the whole matrix thing bc its kinda like being the pope or st but also you have a ton of political sway, so its a super important position, so of Course the corrupt senate would want full control over that power, and would assassinate the current prime to try to get their own guy in

god vhbhjsdkbgshjdf rodimus is such a dick lmao poor drift

HHHHH I love that the cybertronian version of an autopsy is taking the dudes body apart into the smallest components and laying them all out. that's so fucking cool

hmmmm chromedome maybe you should Not be interested in mnemology, how about that,

oh god. time to start being sad about op and senator shockwave. oh god

senator shockwave more like senator sexy

also the first time I read this I thought I had just missed his name and like halfway thru the story I went back and scoured the pages looking for it hbvhsjdfbshgfdsbj then I was like oh ok so we’re maybe supposed to just know who this guy is from another comic? but NOPE it was very deliberate and I only realized very close to the end that they were setting up some sort of reveal

its funny bc normally I'm not a huge fan of stories where politics play a huge role but I fuckgin love it here, the politics and worldbuilding is all so interesting and also balanced out with a healthy dose of cool sci-fi hijinks, so

lmao there's chromedome being obsessed w/people making the ‘pfft’ sound

also wow yet more hindsight, maybe you Shouldn’t be so interested in the Institute, chromedome,

OHHHH shit I forgot abt the red alert stuff happening at the same time as this :( :( :(

AUGHHH what a fucked up situation. god

oooof i gotta continue now!! what a solid issue, I love the shadowplay arc

#lj rereads mtmte

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uwunnie · 4 years

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Update + Week 1 recap (Nov.7, 8:21 PM US Mountain Time)

Today marked the final day of the first week since this whole ordeal began. Truthfully, it feels like we somehow transported to the Dramarama video because time seemed to stop, but alas, here we are.

For the recap, I’m not going to put specific dates, but for today’s update, I will title it as such. You’ll see - this should be a pretty easy format to follow (tiki-taka),

For the sake of everyone’s timelines, the recap and update begin after this read more.

When news broke out regarding a Wonho’s sudden departure on October 31 (US and the like time-zones), may have been November 1 for other zones, there really weren’t that many updates in the way of efforts to bring him back. That day was full of shock, so everyone was more angry and depressed - even more so compared to now.

But after a day or two, Monbebes managed to channel their emotions into a bigger cause: Bringing Wonho home, and bringing him home we will.

Let’s recap:

Twitter Monbebes, Carter and Kei, organized the GoFundMe to raise $10,000 USD to purchase an ad in NY Times Square.

Within 45 minutes of initial service, the goal had been met.

After a couple days, the donations kept piling in and finally, as of November 3 - the GoFundMe closed at $25,102 USD ($15,102 USD over the original goal).

The ad’s payment was successful and the ad went up! However, my understanding is that the ad’s run-time ends in a few hours.

Ad’s location: New York, 42nd St. and 7th Ave., facing east.

Photos of the ad:

Reads: We shine brighter as a family, then proceeds to list each name of OT7 along with their logo and a photo of OT7 together with MONBEBE on the photo.

The board kicked off on November 6 and ran 30 times per hour for 15 seconds all day except 2-5 AM.

A petition calling to keep Wonho a member of Monsta X was published. Within a week, the petition is still going pretty strong with over 400k signatures. The goal is 500k, so I predict it will reach its goal within the next week.

The petition can be found here.

In addition, more projects/campaigns have been released since then and can be found in this master-post here.

Since this day, however, more projects have been revealed, so once I compile all of them, I’ll add them to the previous link.

Let’s remember:

K-MBB left sticky notes on Starship Ent.’s building. Eventually, within a few hours, a staff member was photographed collecting them.

News outlets began reporting about Monbebe efforts to bring Wonho back, thus bringing more attention to our goal.

Celebrities reached out and showed their support of Monsta X.

Monbebes began writing everyone to spread awareness - spanning as far as contacting Moon Jae-in, South Korea’s president.

Naver (shockingly) released a positive article - something that’s very rare.

Efforts are still being made to spread more awareness through physical ads in South Korea.

K-MBB’s held a silent protest outside of Starship Ent.

International fans flew to South Korea to participate.

Staff said they can and will welcome Wonho back.

Staff also helped Monbebes greatly:

Met with MBB’s on the day of the silent protest to help them cut out banners.

These plaques read, “I do not want to remain just a memory,” which are lyrics from If Only.

Supported MBB’s in the fan cafe - even went as far as changing their icons, I believe, to photos of Wonho.

Continued collecting MBB sticky notes and even provided tissues at the protests for those who were crying.

Continue encouraging us to continue with our efforts.

Other fandoms have showed their support for Monsta X and MBB.

International MBB are still organizing a silent protest from what I’ve seen circulating the web.

For Minhyuk’s birthday, MBB adopted four whales as gifts. One is a southern humpback named Monbebe, another a blue whale adopted in Minhyuk’s name. I’ve heard another one was named Monsta X, but don’t quote me on it because I’m not 100% sure.

Minhyuk’s birthday tag also reached #1 worldwide trend.

A set of stars were also purchased and named Lee Hoseok and Monsta X.

NY-MBB got a dance group to dance to Follow.

UK-MBB are hosting fundraisers in efforts to raise money for a central London billboard.

As I stated prior, all sorts of ad efforts were, and still are being, made.

Over 30 tags have consecutively trended worldwide for one week - many of them reaching -#1 trend several times.

K-MBB’s used the original fan chant during one of the performances for Follow’s promotions. If you don’t know what I’m referring to, it means that they used the OT7 chant including Wonho’s name.

300 fans were allowed into the Inkigayo recording - 100 over its normal capacity.

Tower Records, international music franchise store, showed their support in their Japan branch’s sector through MX signs and posters.

MX reminders:

Wonho is still active on the fan cafe.

Majority of the members have been active on the fan cafe.

Minhyuk posted this for his birthday:

Changkyun posted this two days ago:

Wonho is still on Starship’s official site.

This photo was posted a day or two ago:

For those that may not understand, the white ink is circling Wonho’s signature and name on the wristband. Some people claimed it doesn’t matter because those bands are pre-made, but to that I’d like to point out that those bands are made out of paper and his name is printed/signed on the end, so it would have been very easy for staff to cut off the end part if they really wanted to, or were instructed to do so.

This was circulating the web:

Speculations:

Nov. 7: Shownu wore Wonho’s shirt.

Nov. 7: Kihyun wore Wonho’s earrings.

Nov. 7: Hyungwon wore Wonho’s chain.

Nov. 7: Changkyun wore Wonho’s, or a similar, earpiece.

Nov. 7: Our boys left a space for Wonho at the end of their performance. Take a look here and see what you think.

Nov. 2: MX left a space for Wonho during Follow and Find You.

Nov. 2: Jooheon’s lyrical slip-up could have been in protest of what’s occurring.

In regards to this speculation, he did this recently again as well, so my interpretation is that it’s probably related to the protest as well as exhaustion.

Starship info and overall legal matters:

As far as my knowledge extends, this is the ONLY official statement SS has released:

The explanation/speculation of this letter can be found here.

SS is involved in their own, personal, controversy. I’ve made past posts regarding the situation, but for the sake of not stirring the pot, so-to-speak, I’m going to exclude them from this particular post. Until further information about their situation is released, or I feel it’s becoming a detriment to MX, I will bite my tongue.

In regards to 🐻’s controversy, SS confirmed the photos were manipulated (fake).

🐻’s searches have been cleared, at least from my knowledge. I’ve been told that they have been, but I’m not entirely sure if they’ve come back or anything.

I know a lot of people messaged me that particular night in regards to a YouTube video talking about 🐻’s situation and everyone was concerned it would spark up the searches again. I didn’t want to say anything until I saw the video taken down, but I messaged KJ and explained the situation to him. He had no ill intent with his video - in fact, he was trying to help clear the negative rumors revolving around MX. He was just simply unaware that, unfortunately, any publicity regarding 🐻’s situation would trigger the searches again, so I explained this to him and told him about MBB efforts. He completely understood and removed the video.

Updates from November 7:

MX received their 2nd win!

The video and post involving Hyungwon’s speech can be found here. HIGHLY recommend watching it.

GOT7 congratulated and hugged each member, and E-Dawn congratulated Changkyun.

Only 10 Monbebes were allowed inside for the performance, so Ahgases (GOT7’s fan club) held up Monsta X light sticks during our boys’ performance in place for the MBB not allowed in. Ahgase also helped MBB with the live voting.

In other words: Ahgase and Monbebe are each other’s sweethearts. 💚🤧💜

Jooheon told MBB not to cry.

They held a fan-sign to which:

Wonho’s photo was projected on the screen behind them. A link to the photo can be found here.

K-MBB informed MX of the Times Square ad.

Changkyun stayed this is the last week of promotions.

Kihyun said he will do a cover of Believer.

I think Shownu earned his PhD? Or is going to?

Jooheon confirmed the release of the studio version of Sambakja, or he said he might. I’ve seen people talking about both, so I can guarantee 100%, but Jooheon, if you’re reading this - please.

Trends continue meaning we’ve successfully trended for one week straight.

Eshy:

Voting for MAMA has been open and Monsta X is a nominee in all except a couple categories.

There’s two ways to vote:

Voting for them in specific categories on the website, here.

Voting on Twitter as well by utilizing:

#MAMAVOTE #monstax

Current twitter tags to trend as well:

#LoveUWonho

#우리_항상_네_곁에_있을게요

@/OfficialMonstaX

@/STARSHIPent

Overall reminders:

Do not engage in fan wars.

Do not engage in any hate towards the duo. I’ve said this in the past and it’s practically been confirmed: They’re trying to gather sympathy through the situation they’ve caused by trying to play victim. Popular sites are posting articles painting them in positive undertones and netizens are starting to support them because of the hate they’re getting on their social platforms and what not. Those comments can also be collected and utilized in the ongoing legal case, so please, do NOT engage with them. Instead, channel your energy into MAMA voting, campaigns/projects, trends, and other positive things that will bring Wonho home to us.

Messages to MX, project created by @wonderlanddragon, ends Nov.8/9. The posted regarding the details can be found in the campaign link above!

Bunnies for Wonho, created by @thoughtsfromaclutteredbrain, has been ongoing now. They’ve also planned a new project for a video, so please send in your favorite Wonho moment along with your name and/or nickname to them!

@stay-dont-strayy creates an International MBB project. You can find the info on their blog!

Kpop group chats have been created, links here.

@sezy001234 has also created five tumblr kpop group chats, so hit her up for details on everything!

I’ve also made a kpop tumblr group chat, so if you’d like to be added, send in an ask or message!

The source to find the bunny 7-1=0 profile pictures can be found here in seven different colors.

You can leave letters/sweet messages to the boys on the fan cafe. Please be mindful of the situations at hand when doing so and also, give a little extra love to our baby, Changkyun. MBB at the fan-sign have mentioned that he seems to be struggling the most and tbh, it’s been very visible in his performances and photos.

All seven are trying to be strong for us, so let’s try our best to be strong for them. ❤️

We’ve made it through the first week, babes.

We can do it time and time again.

I love you all. ❤️🤧

Let’s bring our bunny home. ❤️🐰

(Posting: Nov. 8, 3:05 AM US Mountain Time // yes, it took me this long to make lol)

#monsta x #wonho #shownu #kihyun #hyungwon #minhyuk #jooheon #changkyun #im #joohoney #updates #first week #monbebe

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not-the-cleavers · 4 years

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Target II - Chapter 4

Hey guys real quick - I’m posting this now because I live in Australia and there’s a fire less than 20km away from my house so we’re on alert for evacuation. Basically I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post if we end up getting evacuated - I’m not looking for sympathy, it is what it is, I just want you beautiful people to know what’s going on.

Anyway.....

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette and @amy-brooklyn99 - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, angst, mention of human/sex trafficking, drinking and smoking Word count; 1.7k (total so far 6.3k)

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Entering the hanger I noticed that someone had kindly placed a stool where I would normally stand during our briefs, these things tend to run long and I don’t think I’d be able to stand for the entire thing. Four helped me slide onto the stool and instead of scurrying off to the opposite side of the table; where he normally stands, he stayed put, leaning onto the cold metal table. I pulled my laptop closer to me to start to pull useful information from that key logging software I installed before we left. Much to my surprise John Dough uploaded his entire hard drive, virus and all, to his personal version of the cloud, where he uploads and downloads to all his personal devices, spreading my virus everywhere. The idiot just made my job so much easier! “You look like you’ve got good news, care to share with the rest of class?” One said in his usual sarcastic tone. Clearly my poker face needs work. “You two aren’t fucking are you?” he said in a dead serious tone, flicking a finger between Four and myself. “What? No!” Hopefully I was able to hide my disappointment with shock, “it’s about John Dough. The idiot just uploaded my virus to every single one of his devices. I can see everything he does” I said with a smirk. A deep belly laugh erupted from One. “Eight if I wasn’t kinda terrified of you, I would kiss you right now!” he almost yelled, causing Two to crack a smile. “What does this mean for the mission?” Three asked, not entirely sure what I was talking about but willing to play along. “It means I have complete access to his whole system. I can upload a new virus that will duplicate everything onto my servers here without him ever knowing. If he hires more guards, I’ll know. If he books a flight anywhere in the world, I’ll know. If he sends a dick pic, I’ll know. If he does anything on any single one of his devices, I’ll know. This means this mission got a whole hell of a lot easier my friend, we are no longer flying blind” I explained. This caused a huge smile to explode onto Threes face, after getting pinned by those two guards I’m sure this was welcomed news.

“So what’s on the hard drive?” One asked, breaking the joyful feeling in the air. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet, I only woke up like an hour ago, and someone grabbed it from my vest in the van yesterday and put it here” I bit back. Did he seriously think I had the chance to look at the hard drive yet? “Eight that was 3 days ago! Are you seriously trying to tell me you’ve been unconscious this whole time?” What? It can’t have been days, how had I been out for days? And did he seriously not check in on me at all during that time? “I’ll take your silence as a yes” he huffed, anger evident in his voice, though I wasn’t sure why. “C’mon man, give her a break…” Seven came to my rescue while everyone else remained silent “Don’t you ‘c’mon man’ me, this isn’t good enough. We needed intel three fucking days ago! And while princess over here was sleeping, this fucker helped destroy another small community in Syria!” One was getting extremely irate, and your hand instinctively went to where your holster normally sat on your hip, but instead of your hand wrapping around your trusty sidearm, it was grabbed by Four. What was he doing? “And you would have been able to stop that, in three days, with one of us out with a gunshot wound?” Seven sneered “Face it man, we wouldn’t have been able to save those people. I know it sucks but this is what we have been dealt” he placed his hand on Ones shoulder, which was quickly shaken off. “Right well this has been a waste of time, does anyone have anything to add to this?” We all looked around the room at one another not daring to say a damn word. “Right, well that’s that” One said walking past us all to leave, stopping to put a his hand on my shoulder, lean down really close to my ear and say “I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake bringing you into this. Prove to me I didn’t” loud enough for everyone to hear before walking away. I didn’t dare move my eyes to look at anyone, instead choosing to stare dead ahead or else the tears would come, and I wasn’t about to fucking cry in front of everyone.

I slowly pulled myself off the stool, slammed my laptop lid closed, picked up the hard drive and made my way out of the hanger. “Fucking prick” I muttered to myself, how dare he say that shit to me! I was fucking shot getting that fucking hard drive while he sat in the getaway car. If he wants me to prove I deserve to be here, that’s just what I’ll do, and then he can explain why he’s the only one here who never seems to do anything. The walk back to my trailer was long and slow and I was starting to understand Five’s advice to take it easy. I gingerly made it up the two steps of my trailer and slammed the door behind me, I was going to get to work and make One fucking eat his words. I walked past my living quarters and into my makeshift office. This trailer used to have a drivers seat and dashboard that was ripped out, so when I got here I got to work making a desk, knowing I would need it for my role in the team. I sat myself down at my desk and started clicking my way through every single file I had transferred over, easily getting into any password protected folders. Everything about this John Dough made me sick to my stomach, but when I came across a folder named ‘Girls’ I knew it was about to get worse. I forced myself to open the folder and what greeted my eyes was foul. Hundreds of videos and photos of women and teenage girls in varying stages of undress and beaten into such a state I feared they were dead flooded my screen. These were most likely women and girls forced into sex slavery, trafficked away from their families and treated like this. I slammed the screen down again, I needed a fucking drink. I walked back out of my office and poured myself a healthy of whiskey into a not very clean glass and just as I was about to take a sip there was a knock at my door. I hobbled my way over to the door and pushed it open, not looking to see who it was, before turning around and walking right back in. “Drink?” I asked the visitor, holding up my glass so they could see, “Uh sure, got any beer?” the deep accented voice of Four came from behind me. “Feel free to check but I don’t think so” I told him, motioning towards the small fridge with my hand that held my whiskey. I slowly lowered myself onto my bed again and watched Four squat down to check my drink options. When his search came up empty, he muttered that he would be right back, and walked right back out the door. A chuckle escaped my lips as I leant back and took a sip, making a slight face as the liquor burned its way down my throat.

My door opened one last time as four re-entered with two six packs of some kind of beer, unloading one into my fridge and bringing the other one, and my bottle of whiskey, over to my bed, where he sat down next to me. “What’s going on? I know One was being an arsehole back there, but I can tell something else has happened” Four said knowingly, watching me take another slip. “This whole week can fuck itself. First I get shot – and that’s still not on you so don’t try it, then I get ridiculed in front of everyone because I was apparently unconscious for three days, then going through that hard drive I’ve come across some of the worst things I’ve seen and I’ve only scratched the surface.” I replied, cutting myself off before mentioning anything about how I felt about Four and how he would never feel the same way. “What are you talking about?” he asked hesitantly after a long drink from his bottle. My only response was to point him in the direction of my office. While he was gone I leant over to a set of drawers at the end of my bed and grabbed a pack of Marlboros and an ashtray, quickly lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. I tended to only smoke when stressed and man oh man, today was one of those days.

I soon realised that Four had been gone a while, so I thought I better check on him, all this movement probably wasn’t ideal for my side but honestly, fuck it. I found him, standing in shock at what he discovered on my laptop screen, his hands shaking. Afraid he was going to drop his half-drunk beer on the ground, I grabbed it from his hand after closing the laptop one final time. I walked him back to my bed and sat him back down; in hindsight I probably should have warned him. “Sorry, I should have given you a heads up, I forgot that you don’t normally see that kind of thing.” Normally it was myself or One who did the background on the targets and the team only were given the necessary information. Four raked his hands through his hair before asking “you normally see shit like that?” he sounded shocked, I nodded before replying “I’ve never seen anything exactly like that before, but yeah it is common” the words muffled slightly by my cigarette. Without warning Four grabbed it from between my lips and took a drag before placing it back. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea” he mumbled. “S’alright, I’m glad it still gets to me, means I’m still human” he chuckled weakly at my response. We were clearly feeling the heaviness in the air surrounding that last subject. “Hey lets play twenty questions” I piped up, hoping for a change of pace, and by the way his expression changed I could tell he was okay with that. “You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah that’s the most recent chapter, again I really don’t know when the next chapter will be up. I hope you enjoy!

#ben hardy #ben hardy fic #ben jones #6 underground #6 underground fic #four x reader #four x eight #billy/four #four fic

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sophiemi · 4 years

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A Response to Hate + Wisdom, I Suggest Everyone Reads.

This is a pretty long post replying to some hate I got from a recent post I made about Mirajane Strauss and Laxus Dreyar, I linked it at the bottom of this if you would like to read it. I think everyone should read this post not only because its some piping hot tea, but there’s also a lot of other things I talk about in this that I feel like everyone should hear. Totally understand if you don’t want to read it though. Let me know what you think!

First here is what they/you said (in order):

Hi I just liked to start with I blocked you from send me anymore ask, but I’m letting you know if you change devices you can still ask me things or messages, if you DM (off anon) ill take your request seriously, but since you’re on anon I’m not gonna take you seriously, sorry. Especially after you were actually mean to me when I did nothing wrong, which is why I’m making this post even though I’d normally ignore it.

Lets start with the general Miraxus stuff, that post WAS NOT hate. You have to be delusional and overly obsessed to believe that was a hate post, or that I was spreading “false information.” In the post I literally said they had good development and linked a master list of ALL their interactions. The entire post was about how even though I don’t ACTIVELY ship them (meaning they are cute and I agree they would be a good couple, but I just don’t get that feeling where I’m like “oh okay yes them” and I feel the need to stalk them, ((not everyone hates what threatens their ships)), and I’m not denying they are very cute, and have a lot of cute art and moments, it just doesn’t hype me up the same way other ships do.) So, this post was pro-miraxus, I’m literally saying they honestly deserved to become canon/canon-ish like a lot of the other ships did, so it was not “cross tagged” the post was about mira and laxus and thats what I tagged it, if you are talking about the part where i tagged “#I feel sorry for anyone who ships miraxus” that is literally me validating anyone hurt over the ending. Again, I’m not following the Miraxus tag or any account solely dedicated to that ship so I didn’t even know he drew a kid or them, that’s super cool, good for you. I wasn’t being “biased” because I’m not neck deep in any ship for Laxus or Mira, yes i think CanaJane is cute but I know its very unrealistic, this is why I was able to form this opinion that they deserved better. The post was about how Mashima baited Miraxus the entire series, then said “Never!!!!” even if it was Lucy’s inner thoughts, Mashima knew what he was doing. I was saying, “wow that probably sucked if you really liked them! I’m sorry!” If you believe my post was to degrade Mira x Laxus and hype Cana x Mira, then you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself, I understand you are probably like 13-14 but that’s still not okay to attack people because they don’t agree with you, and if you are older that 13 or 14 that’s just embarrassing. I also believe that Freed x Laxus deserved a better ending and I also don’t actively ship that either, Freed spent the whole series wanting to protect and be by the side of Laxus and they had no interaction in the finale.

Next, lets go to the part about you saying I’m a “slash fetishizer shipper” (also i literally had to look up what this meant) I can only assume you canajane because i said they “hit different” right? Let me just re insert what you said to make sure I reply correctly

Yes I think Cana and Mira are very attractive, and I think they are hot together too. Hi i’m into girls. I am the woke points. I agree people make lgbt people into a fetish and don’t actually respect them, but that’s mostly males thinking lesbians are hot while being gross out by gay men, I may be naive but you don’t often see that on anime tumblr where half the people are gay anyway, not to mention most are female. This next part may be controversial I’m not sure, but people don’t need a reason to ship characters and no one can tell them who they can and can’t ship (this does not apply to shipping a child with an adult), so you can’t say only gay people can ship to people of the same gender, sorry that’s not how it works, i understand you’re trying to get those “woke points” but you just look like a fool. But then next you said this:

Actual author content? Oh you mean like the post I linked that showed EVERY SINGLE interaction/moment/hints that Miraxus had? Like I said, they had good development, and my post was about how the AUTHOR should’ve given them a better ending. I’d just like to add there are many moments that the AUTHOR wrote between Cana and Mira that made me ship them, if the AUTHOR never wrote anything to where they interacted, I wouldn’t ship them? This post is not about that though so I’m not gonna go anymore into them.

“false information” girl what? where? I’m genuinely curious, I used screenshots of the manga to present to idea that Miraxus deserved better and that’s all I talked about so I’m confused what you been by this:

So I can tell you took the one line where i said I like CanaJane more than Miraxus and in your mind twisted my entire PRO-miraxus argument into and anti post, this kind of behavior is toxic, and “its not a good look sir”

Let also clarify something, cross tagging is posting about something and tagging things completely unrelated, this post was about mira and laxus and thats what it was tagged about. Cross tagging is often used in shipping wars, but my post was pro-miraxus so it makes no sense for you to repeatedly say I was cross tagging and that’s why you were mad, it’s very clear you were just mad because I said I shipped CanaJane and that clouded your judgement when reading everything else. If you wanna see real cross tagging look up any naruto ship and scroll for about 3 seconds. So, no I won’t be removing the tags because that makes no sense, but if it’s important enough for you to message me off anon then we’ll talk.

My final section of this response is how hypocritical you were. Like with he part, “I don’t hate you” To quote tiktok and nicki minaj, “don’t be tryna double back, I already despise you”

As you can see you repeatedly said I was mean, but no where in my post did I say anything like “Mira x Laxus is gross, its toxic, its dumb, its...idk...forced!”, i literally never said anything like that because like I’ve said in this post and in that one, they’re cute and they had good development. You were the mean one in your response telling me i had “no reading skills whatsoever”, that i had a “lack of respect”, said I’m “more than pitiful” and this isn’t mentioning all of your back handed pettiness throughout every single message you sent, you think you “look cool” but “hun”...”sweetie”...you just look dumb, but at least you are on anon!

Educate myself? girl this isn’t politics, you’re pressed over a post saying your ship deserved better than it got??? What am I supposed to do watch the anime, read the manga, well good thing I did. GUESS WHAT THEY HAD GOOD DEVELOPMENT i can see why you ship them.

The only rude person here is you, you came into my asks and attacked me because you were blinded for reasons I can’t figure out, and you hid behind the anonymous setting which clearly means you don’t care that much about Miraxus, you just wanted to be mean.

If you’re reading this, and you sent me the messages, message me off anonymous, then we can realistically talk about me taking off my so called cross tagging, I really don’t care that much, I’m just baffled you had to audacity to come for me so hard then “nicely” ask me to remove the tags.

If you’re reading this and you didn’t send me these messages, thanks for reading, maybe share this so people understand that this behavior is not okay. I know what I got was mostly just petty ranting, but there are people who send way worse to others and its just not okay. Just because these aren’t are real accounts like these are fandom accounts doesn’t make it okay. Thanks!

Here is the post in reference:

https://emillyjacksonn.tumblr.com/post/617804123843280896/miraxus-shippers-really-got-played

#fairy tail #ft #ask #askme #Mirajane Strauss #mira #Mira Strauss #laxus #Laxus Dreyar #miraxus #canajane #fraxus

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Bedside Stories ch.1 (baon)

Summary: In the aftermath of Internal Disputes. Everything is going swell.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Hospitals

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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One of the first things Stretch had done when Edge was able to remain more awake was to sign in to their Netflix account on the hospital room television. Or rather, Red’s Netflix account since they still hadn’t bothered to get their own. He suspected Red took some minor glee at allowing others to pirate his account and who was he to steal his brother’s joy. He’d keep his thefts to digital streaming services.

But the television was currently dark, hunkering in the corner and silenced from the bevy of cooking shows played non-stop since that morning, ones like Sugar Rush and Cake Wars. Edge finally snapped on the second episode of ‘Nailed It’ and turned it off to relish the silence. His pain was currently at a tolerable level without any medication and he preferred not to add to it with awful programs.

On the table beneath the tv was a lovely floral arrangement sent by Asgore, one that he’d quite likely made himself and Edge truly appreciated that Stretch only put it where Edge directed and made no comment about who it was from.

It wasn’t entirely a surprise; Stretch had been on his best behavior for the past couple days and if the shrill voices of the hosts from that awful show had grated on his nerves, a well-behaved Stretch was nearly worse. He loved his husband as he was, snark and puns and all. It was nearly better to have him briefly gone, with the hopes he’d be more himself when he returned.

Much as Edge appreciated the current silence, there wasn’t much else to do in the hospital room. There was a stack of books sitting on the side table that he didn’t want to read along with his cell phone which gave him an apologetic message stating that his account could not currently access the Embassy servers, along with a terrible stick figure drawing resembling Janice with a word balloon that said, ‘Get well soon!’.

On top of the books was a rubix cube that Jeff brought in for him, a thoughtful gift that Edge solved in less than a minute, to his laughing dismay.

He was actually starting to reluctantly consider playing Simcity on his phone when a hammering knock at the door almost sent him flying to his feet. Or foot, rather, since one of them was currently firmly encased in a plaster cast.

“Come in!” Edge called irritably. He really could do without anyone testing whether skeletons could have a heart attack for a while.

He wasn’t surprised when the door flew open to reveal Undyne, grinning unrepentantly. She all but slammed the door behind her and flopped down in the chair by the bed, propping her booted feet up on the bed rail.

“Heya, tough nerd, where is your pretty honey bunny?” She glanced around the room as if she expected to find Stretch stashed away in the closet or under the bed.

“Must you call him that?” Edge sighed. The soles of her boots were leaving smudges on his sheets and he reached down to give them a slap, knocking them to the floor. Undyne only laughed.

“Touchy.” She shifted to lean with her elbows on her knees, hands hanging between them. “I’m the one whose knocked up, shouldn’t I be having the mood swings?”

“Thinking of you with mood swings is terrifying. Congratulations, by the way.” Edge knew very little about pregnancy, but he couldn’t really see a change in Undyne. He thought she might be wearing a slightly looser shirt than normal, but nothing else seemed visible, not even the ‘glow’ often mentioned in books and movies.

“Eh, thanks,” she grinned. “But let’s back up a step. I figured that honey of a hubby of yours wouldn’t leave your side.”

“You would be correct, even if I want him to,” Edge said dryly. “Much as I adore him, he was starting to get, shall we say, antsy. I sent him home to check on his chickens and to bring me some clean clothes.” Today was the first day Edge was in a position to despise the hospital gowns and he was, with great distaste.

“Uh huh. When are they springing you?” The way Undyne’s gaze fell over him was familiar, assessing damage and calculating potential weakness. It was automatic and came from a place of concern, he knew, but it was difficult not to bristle.

“Hopefully tomorrow, for a week’s rest and then a walking cast.”

Her eye narrowed, flicking back to his leg. “Bad?

“Not as bad as it could have been. For one, it’s still attached.” Undyne barked a laugh and pounded on the arm of her chair, which was the hoped for reaction. He’d tried that particular gallows humor with Stretch earlier and he had not been amused in the slightest. “It was mostly healed before we even got to the hospital, but the bone needs support until the doctors deem otherwise. Now that we’ve discussed me, can we…?”

“Yeah, sure.” She leaned back in her chair and spread her hands over her belly, pulling her t-shirt taut. That revealed the soft swell of her belly. “Alphys and I decided it was time to have a rugrat to chase, so us and the pop-sicle are on it.”

Popsicle? He didn’t want to know. But he did ask, curiously, “When are you due?”

“‘Bout two months.”

“Two months!” Edge blinked at her in shock. “I thought you’d be...more…” He held his arms out in front of his own empty stomach cavity in a wide circle.

She scoffed loudly and flexed, the firm ball of her bicep popping. “When you’re swole like me, the baby’s gotta fight the abs. And let me tell you, they’re trying.” She smirked then, a fiendish sort of glitter in her eye that filled Edge with equal parts fondness and terror. “You wanna feel the baby?”

“Well, I—”

Too late, she already stood and snatched up his hand, plopped it the slight curve of her belly. It was oddly firm, not at all what he was expecting and before he adjusted to that, there came a wiggle, like a fish was caught in her stomach which it might very well be. Ugh, that was disturbing. He preferred children after the creation process was finished.

She let him pull away and from her grin, she knew exactly how Edge felt about it; some of her glee rather resembled Red’s...or another Undyne, from another world. She flopped back in her chair and gave her belly an absent scratch. “So, when are you and Stretch gonna--”

“Please don’t ask.”

She frowned. “Oh. Sorry.”

It wasn’t her concern or her business, it was private, between him and Stretch, and Edge was as astonished as anyone to hear himself say, “He doesn’t want children.”

“What?” Undyne’s face twisted into disbelief. “Get off it. He loves kids, he’s always getting into trouble with the local ankle-biters. Bet you could talk him into it.”

“I don’t want to talk him into it.” Edge barely kept his testiness down, he knew Undyne, and knew she didn’t mean any harm, and he was the one who’d opened the topic. "I never want him to feel like a child is something he needs to agree to to keep me. I—“ He hesitated, thinking of Stretch, and his irritation faded. His faint smile was automatic, as natural as breathing when it came to thinking about his husband. As terrible as their anniversary had been with him mostly in a drugged sleep and Stretch curled up against him in his arms, Edge would have rather done it that way a dozen times over than to not have it at all. “I love him and I’ve accepted that we won’t have children. That’s our choice.”

For the first time, that honestly felt true. He supposed there was a faint hope lingering after their brief discussion last year, one that nagged at the back of his mind, tugged at his soul. But if he forced himself to truly consider it, Edge was happy with their lives the way they were and that wasn’t simply from Stretch’s preference; if they had a child, he would need to severely limit his other commitments to the Embassy and the Monster community as a whole. Plus there were the children at the Y to consider, children whose home lives were far from perfect, who craved a stabilizing influence.

Those children needed him more than he needed to speculate on an imaginary child. Even the children in New New home, who had loving parents of their own, needed to be protected from a world that was not yet as accepting as they might wish. The glaring white cast on his foot was proof of that.

That little pang he sometimes got when he thought of having a child of his own eased, fading, and Edge was content to let it go.

Undyne was looking at him with unusual shrewdness. “Yeah, I get that. Well, you’ll be a great uncle, both of ya, and I’m betting we’ll be trying to hook you up with babysitting duties.”

“I’d like that,” Edge said honestly. “And all the other neighborhood children seem to enjoy having a spare uncle or two. I’m sure your tadpole will be delighted to join the rest.”

She slapped her knees and stood. “Well, I gotta get back to the shitshow...and don’t even bother asking, I’m not supposed to tell you anything yet, that’s orders from on high. Just wanted to check in on you.” She sobered, and said with unusual softness. “And thank you. If I’d been there--” She shuddered, her hand falling down to rest on the slight swell of her belly.

“You don’t need to thank me, but you’re welcome,” Edge said sincerely.

Her somberness split into another wide grin. “But while I’m here….”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Sharpie, waggling her eyebrows as she held it up.

Ugh. They’d only put the cast on this morning and thus far, no one else had been around to attempt signing it. Grimly, Edge nodded. This was a bonding ritual of sorts in this world, and he would not be so churlish as to refuse it.

“Nothing obscene,” he warned. Undyne scoffed, but obediently signed only her name, adding in a clumsy sketch of her own face saying ‘get well soon, nerd!’

The door opened as she was finishing, Stretch barrelling inside with several bags in his arms. “okay, i know it’s cold out, but you won’t be able to do any turns on the catwalk soon anyway, so i figured gym shorts would be easier to get on you--hey!” He stopped, outraged. “i was gonna do that!”

“I left you plenty of room,” Undyne snorted.

Stretch harrumphed and started digging through one of the bags. He pulled out an entire package of sharpies in a startling array of colors. “my canvas is the world!”

“Your canvas is on my body,” Edge said dryly. “You may sign your name and sketch a small picture, Van Gogh.”

“salvador dali had a better moustache. and both ears.”

“Considering you have neither--”

“yeah, yeah. hey, undyne, congrats on the bump.”

“Thanks,” Undyne said easily, but Edge noticed she didn’t try to grab Stretch’s hand and drag it over to feel any kicking. Neither did Stretch ask and that seemed best. “See you two nerds around!”

“See ya,” Stretch called even as he plopped down to sit next to Edge’s carefully propped leg. “oh, yeah, here, i got you this.”

From the depths of his bag came a couple of books, not novels, but crosswords and sudoku, both with bright titles declaring them ‘World’s Most Difficult Puzzles’! There were also two metal squares about the size of his fist and when Edge inspected them, he found that they were latticed, dozens of different parts that appeared to be a whole.

“those are supposed to be really tough brainteasers...shit!” Stretch had been struggling with opening the packet of pens and when he finally pried the plastic apart, they fell out in a burst, scattering over the bed. Grumbling, he gathered them up in a messy rainbow pile near Edge’s cast.

Edge added a blue sharpie that had made it all the way up to the pillow to the pile, then set books and puzzles on his other side. “Thank you.”

“sure. i figured you were tired of watching other people baking when you can’t stand up and do it yourself.” Stretch contemplated his pile of pens, his face screwed up comically, and his expression brightened into an ‘aha’ as he picked up one in bright orange. Of course.

“Stretch?”

“hmm?” he said absently, pen poised over the rough plaster.

“I love you.” Edge said it with all the deep, longing sweetness in his battered soul, the warmth that rose merely from thinking of Stretch, trying in some small way to project the depth of his love.

Stretch blinked and lowered his pen. Undyne might not normally be shrewd but Stretch very much was and his look was assessing. Wondering, perhaps, what happened while Undyne was here.

“i love you, too.” Then his mouth quirked in a lopsided smile. “but you’re interrupting art here.”

Edge smiled back and shook his head. “Far be it from me to play the part of philistine.”

“actually, this might end up more picasso,” Stretch mused, “guess we’ll see.” The tip of the sharpie touched down as Stretch began, but Edge didn’t watch his dubious attempt at art. Instead, he began inspecting the brain teaser his husband brought for him.

As if Stretch wasn’t a walking, talking brain teaser every day.

Edge lightly touched each joint as he contemplated how to begin, listening as Stretch hummed down by his feet, sketching something that would likely be terrible for him to love.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

The Usual Spy Stuff - Chapter 1

The Usual Spy Stuff - A Captain America Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1955

Warnings: Fluff, twist on tropes, eventual smut (vaginal sex)

Synopsis: You and Steve have to pretend to be in a relationship while on a mission. You know what that means right?

A/N: For my #Happy Steve Bingo Fill: free space. I chose the prompt 'bed sharing'.

I realize that this one is a repost, but it’s now a series, so I’m tagging you all again as a refresher.

Chapter 1

“I think this is how a whole bunch of fanfiction starts.”

You said the words as a joke as you tossed your bag onto the nearby sofa chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Steve looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “What’s fanfiction?”

You looked at him and stifled a laugh. Of course, Steve Rogers wouldn’t know what fanfiction was. Why would he know? He had been on the ice during the best part of the technological revolution. You certainly weren’t going to be the one that popped that happy little bubble.

“Never mind,” You said and started taking off your shoes. “Just one bed. Two people. Who knows what could happen?”

Steve chuckled and pulled his shirt off. “I’ll try and control myself.”

You looked up at him. You had always been under the impression that his shirts left nothing to the imagination. You were so very, very wrong. Steve Rogers was somehow more perfect looking than you could imagine. He looked like he’d been working out just before he came up here and then airbrushed. He looked like he’d been carved from actual stone.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, spinning on the spot as he attempted to look himself over. “Do I have something on me?”

“No. Sorry. Everything is fine.” You said and got up going to your bag. “I’m just going to get changed.”

“You want something from room service? I’m starving.” Steve asked as you head to the bathroom.

“Yeah. Get stuff we can share in bed. Let’s make it a thing.” You called back and shut the door behind you.

You looked in the mirror and slapped your face. “He’s just ridiculously hot and going to be all pressed up against you in bed. It’s no big deal.” You said to yourself. Only shirtless Steve seemed to be seared into your retina. “Stop objectifying people, you dumb bitch.” You yelled at yourself.

“Did you say something?” Steve called back to you.

You groaned and pulled off your shirt. “No, it’s fine.”

You changed into a pair of flannel pajamas with puppies on them and brushed your teeth, before heading back into the bedroom. Steve was in bed already, sitting up against the headboard and flicking through stations on the TV. He apparently slept shirtless. That was great. You could handle that.

“Those are cute.” He said.

You looked down at yourself. “Yeah. I normally sleep naked. Thought you might appreciate me … not doing that.”

Steve chuckled. “That's very thoughtful. I was just looking to see if there was anything on TV. You want to watch something?”

You shrugged and climbed into bed. “I don't mind.”

Steve switched the TV off and looked you over. “You're okay with this right? Pretending to be my girlfriend?”

“Yeah, of course. Spy stuff. And you know,” you gestured to yourself with your thumbs. “I'm a spy.”

He laughed and shook his head. “That you are. I guess maybe it’s me that’s worried about it.”

You looked over at him and patted his thigh. “Why? You’ve been doing this longer than me.”

“I’m a soldier, not a spy. I’m not good at lying.”

You laughed. “No, you really aren’t. It’ll be fine. We know each other. You aren’t lying about you. You just gotta say she’s my girlfriend to get me in. That’s all.”

He sighed and nodded. “I guess so.”

You patted his leg. “It’ll be fine. It won’t take long. I’m really good at this.”

He laughed and nudged you. “That we can agree on.”

There was a knock on the door and you grabbed your wallet and answered the door. A young guy wheeled in a trolly with a tray of food with silver domed covers on it. He did a double take when he saw Steve sitting up in bed but quickly composed himself. You tipped him and took the lids off the dishes. There was pizza, crab cakes, a shrimp cocktail and buffalo chicken wings along with a slice of cheesecake.

“Oh, you’re spoiling us.” You said as you started laying out the food on the bed. “Cake and everything.”

“Might as well spoil ourselves while we have the chance.” He said.

“In that case, you want anything from the minibar?”

“Yeah, why not? Put it on the work tab. I’ll have a beer.”

You went to the fridge and grabbed him a beer and one of those mini vodka bottles and orange juice before getting into the bed. You grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite.

Steve opened the beer and took a drink. “Are you enjoying working for the Avengers?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s amazing. The benefits are great, you get to work for the best. I get to make a difference.” You said.

Steve smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

“Get to raid mini bars on the boss' dime.” You add, pouring the vodka and juice into one of the glasses from the bathroom.

Steve chuckled. “I guess that’s also true.”

“What about you? Do you like it?” You asked.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. “No one has ever asked me that before.”

You laughed. “Really? Not once?”

He shook his head. “No. Not once. I guess when you found something people assume you must like it.”

“That sounds like you don’t like it.”

He picked up a shrimp and dipped it in the sauce before putting it in his mouth and chewing methodically. “No. I think I do. I’ve questioned it a lot What I do. You know?”

“Sure. History is told by the winners after all. It’s hard to know if you’re the one on the right side.” You said.

“Yeah. There’s definitely that. Also, for a while there I felt very used. Before the Avengers were their own entity. Back when it was just another SHIELD program.” He explained. “Not just that though. Back in the war, I fought to stop this one thing from falling into the wrong hands and woke up thinking it was done only to repeat the same fight again. Since then, it feels like I just keep fighting the same fight over and over.”

You frowned. “Yeah, I can see how that would get to someone. History repeating itself.”

He nodded and picked at a crab cake. “I think the fight is worth fighting though. There is good in the world. It’s worth protecting.” He settled on a channel and looked at you. “Gone with the Wind?”

“Sure. Why not.”

You relaxed back on the bed eating and watching the movie together. When it was clear you were both done with the food, Steve packed it away and move the trolley back out to the hall before getting into bed. He went to the bathroom and when he returned he snuggled down in the bed beside you. He smelled like soap and mint.

“The world has changed a lot since that movie was made.” He said switching the lamp off.

“Mmm… you’d know better than anyone.”

“I guess I would.” He said. “See, it’s worth fighting. It might be small victories. You might have to repeat yourself again and again. But the change happens. It’s just hard to see when you’re in it.”

You nodded. “That’s a good perspective.”

Steve shifted in the bed and he brushed against you as he got more comfortable. He was quiet for a little while. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of him breathing.

“What if we need to kiss tomorrow?” He asked breaking the silence.

You snorted. “Why would we need to kiss?”

“Well, I don’t know. People kiss when they’re in a relationship.”

You rubbed his arm you hoped in what was a reassuring motion. “Fake dating and one bed. We’re doomed.”

“What?” Steve asked, the confusion evident in his voice.

You chuckled and shook your head. “Nothing. I’m being an idiot. There are no social rules about people kissing while in public. In fact, it’s generally frowned upon. If you feel the need to kiss me, I won’t mind. Pecks on cheeks would likely be enough if anything is needed.”

“What if it comes off as awkward and unnatural?” He asked.

“I’m a really good kisser.” You reassured him. “Would you like to practice?”

He laughed and you could see his eyes shining in the dim light coming from the hall. “I guess when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

“No, I’m serious. We can practice if you want. Do it until it feels second nature. I don’t mind.” You said.

He seemed to seriously consider it for a moment before his head shook slightly. “No. You’re right. It’s unlikely to be necessary.”

“Aww damn,” You joked, although not entirely. “I really wanted to practice that.”

“I’m sure there’s a line you need to get to the back of.” Steve teased.

You shoved him playfully, and it set him off laughing.

“I know you aren’t used to this spy stuff, but you’re just being you. It’ll be fine. Just be sassy old Steve Rogers.” You said.

“Sassy?” He said sounding offended. “Old?” He added with even more offense to his tone.

“I said what I said.”

“Fine. See if I kiss you tomorrow now.” He teased.

“Oh damn. All my dreams, shattered just like that.”

He chuckled and you both fell silent again. You saw his eyes close and you watched him as he seemed to center himself.

“Steve?” You asked.

“Mmm…”

“Before you said you thought your job was worth it. You didn’t say if you were happy though.”

He opened his eyes and looked at you. Even in the near pitch room, you could see him assessing you. “Yes. I think I’m happy. This isn’t how I expected my life to go, you know? I mean, obviously. I was born in 1918, and I was extremely sickly. I thought I’d be dead by now.”

You chuckled softly and gave him a little nod to continue.

“I had expected, even though women didn’t really look twice at me, that one day I’d get married and have kids. That there would be a family. You know?”

“Sure. It’s what’s drilled into us. More so back then.” You agreed.

“There’s still part of me that thinks I need that to be really happy.” You said. “I’ve also lost a lot. For a long time, I thought it was everything. To die and wake up to find yourself alone in a world you no longer recognize. I was lost for a really, really long time. I can’t say I didn’t think about…” He let out a breath and shook his head. You touched his arm softly and a half smile crossed his lips. “I was depressed, I know that now. But now? I have Bucky back. I didn’t think I’d see him again. I have another best friend I love just as much as Bucky. The others. They’re my family. They’re more my family than my dad ever was. I still miss people from my past, but there are more people now. Which is good. I think I’m making a difference in the world. So yeah. I’m happy. It’s not the life I expected. But it’s good.”

You smiled at you and squeezed his arm. “That’s good. I’m glad. You do deserve to be happy.”

He chuckled. “How can I not be when I have a beautiful woman in my bed.”

You laughed and pushed him again. “Smooth, Rogers.”

“I try.” He teased. “We should sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Right. Yes.” You agreed. “Night.”

“Goodnight.” He said with a soft smile.

You closed your eyes and let the sound of his breathing send you off to sleep.

// NEXT

#happy steve bingo #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #bed sharing #the usual spy stuff

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 5 years

Text

Pick Your Battles: Part 5/5

Pairing: Five x reader

It only takes a week for Grace to become your favorite Hargreeves. She doesn’t pester you 24/7 with annoying questions, plus she makes pancakes, which you’ve never had before. They’re your favorite food now, especially when she adds chocolate chips to the batter.

You woke up after everyone else in the house. For the first time in your entire life, you don’t have a strict schedule, and you’re a bit lost. You don’t even feel like yourself; considering all your old clothes were issued by the Commission, depending on whichever era you were traveling to. Now you’re wearing one of Allison’s old Umbrella Academy uniforms. It’s more comfortable than some of the Victorian Era dresses you’d had to force yourself into, but it doesn’t feel like you either. The clothes cling too tightly to your chest and under your armpits, and you’re almost positive that if you weren’t wearing shorts under the skirt people would be able to see your underwear.

It does make people a little more comfortable around you, though; what harm can a schoolgirl do?

“I’d imagine you know a lot about the ancient Greeks, though, considering you are one,” Klaus says. He’d discovered you hiding away in the kitchen, eating pancakes to distract yourself from the way your long-time partner and first friend had abandoned you and now seems to want nothing to do with you. He’s sitting cross-legged on the table, wearing an odd army vest, dog tags, and weird leather pants that expose the sides of his legs. You get the sense that Klaus dresses oddly, even for this era.

“Not really,” you reply, licking your fork clean of maple syrup. “I can tell you about the Spartans, though. I didn’t pay attention whenever Dad talked about current events…” For a second you fall silent. You’ve hardly thought about your father, Aetius, in years. You were never close to him, and his death doesn’t hang over you. “I bet you’d find it barbaric. You modern people are so soft.” You haven’t thought about Phaedra in a while either. Like you’ve said multiple times, matricide was hardly uncommon. You were never even very close with her, either.

Klaus tilts his head, staring at a spot just over your shoulder. “Do you know someone named Phaedra with a hole in her stomach?”

You freeze. It’s part of the reason you’ve been trying to avoid him; the only person with the power to see the full extent of your sins is standing right in front of you. And, apparently, the mother you’d killed is standing behind you. No doubt the ghosts of other people you’ve killed are there too, shouting at you, the girl that’d killed them and was given a second chance at having a regular, nonviolent life. As if you deserve it. “Tell her to go away,” you choke out. “She’s thousands of years old. Doesn’t she rest?”

“She says not to take that tone with her,” Klaus says, squinting. “She sounds like a mom. She’s got the same accent as you, too.”

You pick up your plate and put it in the sink for Grace to clean later.

“Hold on,” Klaus says, getting up and following you as you try to escape his presence, “is that your mom? Phaedra? She is!” He crows without you saying anything. “I knew you were cold, Y/N, but I didn’t think you would stab your own mother. What made you do it? Was it the Commission? Was she trying to kill you?”

“Klaus, I have literally killed hundreds of people. How far do you think I’ll go before I’ll stop?”

“Still, killing your mother is crazy,” he persists.

“It’s really not,” you mutter.

It’s unnerving to think that your mother might be watching you right now. She could have always been watching you.

You don’t feel bad that she’s dead. She’d be dead, long dead, even without your involvement in her death. It’s just weird to think that she might be watching you. It’s weird to think about anyone that’s dead watching you. What if there are millions and millions of dead people just roaming the world, watching the living, and Klaus is the only one that can see them?

“Was it a normal practice in Sparta or something? I read somewhere that it was sort of a bloody free-for-all—”

“Get away from me,” you snap over his pestering. “I’m not in the mood to talk to a man-child.”

“But you’d love to talk to Five, and he’s literally a man-child,” Klaus points out, trailing on your heels as you march down the hall.

“I couldn’t care less about Five,” you sniff. It’s more or less a lie. On the one hand, your Spartan upbringing tells you to ignore your feelings, and if you can’t do that, kill him. On the other hand, your traitorous modern heart is still clinging onto the future Five had built and torn down in the same day.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” Klaus calls after you when you stride out the door of the academy. “Hey, Y/N!”

As if he’s been spiritually tethered to the house, or maybe like he’s a vampire that can’t step into the sun, Klaus doesn’t chase after you. You disappear into the crowd quickly, adopting the same hurried pace everyone around you. You’re soon swept up in the flow of people.

This time period is just so busy. You’re a little bit grateful for that, because if it wasn’t people would definitely notice the bandage on your right arm and ugly yellow-green bruise on your jaw.

The contraptions that people call ‘cars’, you’re pretty sure, zoom past just inches away from people on the edge of the street, and you wonder how they’re not more worried about them. They’re worried about sharks even when they’re not anywhere close to a shark but when they’re close to a driving death trap they don’t care? These people are so weird.

Somehow people have figured out how to make their signs glow. You see lots of strange words like ‘IHOP’ and ‘Verizon’. Are they just making up words now? And the clothes now, too, are strange; to your right is a woman wearing a large, oversized shirt and sweatpants, and to your left is a woman wearing a skirt shorter than yours and a shirt that just barely covers her chest and ends way before her skirt starts. In front of you is a man with curly pink hair.

Suddenly the people are pushing you too much. Someone’s elbow connects with your shoulder and you shove them back, scowling, but you trip over somebody else’s feet and stumble to the side. Another darkly colored vehicle drives past you so quickly and so close it ruffles your hair and sprays water onto your knee-high socks and shoes. How do people cross the street? You’d be killed in an instant.

Something loud passes over your head and you look up. There’s an odd triangular thing flying over your head. It’s a plane. You recognize it from World War II. People send bombs down from them!

You panic, stepping back and nearly falling when you step off the curb of the street. Why isn’t anyone else scared? Do they notice?

There’s a loud noise and you flinch. Was that the first bomb?

“Get out of the way!” someone yells and you whip your head around. An angry man with a ruddy face is yelling at you from inside one of the death traps.

Nobody seems to be worried or even notice. How does this not bother anyone?

The loud noise sounds again. It seems to be coming from the death contraption. How rude. “Move, bitch!” the man yells. Your eyes narrow and you reach for your gun—how dare this nobody insult you—but a hand grabs yours and pulls you out of the way. Your shoes slip on the slick ground and you find yourself falling right into the chest of the person that grabbed you.

“You look a bit overwhelmed,” Five says gently. “Are you okay?”

You blink at him.

“Y/N?” he prompts.

You wrench yourself out of his arms. “I’m fine. I was just never sent to this era on missions.”

“It’s not really an era,” Five says, frowning. “Well, the 90’s, I think, was such a period of rapid change it’ll be a whole new era in the future, but right now we’re in the same era we were in during both World Wars.”

“This is nothing like World War I,” you mutter. You shake yourself when another car passes by. “What do you want, Five?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admits. “I get that this can be a bit of a shock for you, even more so than it is for me.”

“Well, you’ve certainly taken your sweet time in getting around to it,” you say icily, smoothing out your skirt and hair. “I’m fine, actually, so you can go home.”

“Is this about the time difference?” he asks. “Your pissiness?”

“No,” you lie. Well, it’s partly not. The main issue you had was that he’d left without you or even telling you. Maybe he would have looked for you, but the problem with the Temps Commission and time travel is that nobody ever experiences something the same way.

“For your information, I’ve been making plans,” Five informs you. The way he looks at you through the shock of hair that falls in front of his eyes makes him look a little bit like a puppy, and despite your better knowledge, you can’t help but feel a little fuzzy inside. You really shouldn’t.

“Plans for what?”

“For us to go to school,” he replies, smiling when you scowl. “Think about it; we won’t be able to do anything in this world if we don’t have education. I know we’re both smart enough to pass with flying colors, and you’ll be running the school within two weeks if I know you.”

“I already got an education from the Commission,” you complain.

“Do you really think they’ll be willing to send that certification of completion to a college you apply to?” Five asks, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t think so. Besides, it’ll give us some time to relax before we take over the world.”

You raise your eyebrows as well. “Oh, we’re taking over the world? Is this a together thing?” Is this… is Five flirting with you? More importantly, are you flirting back?

“Well, I mean, I’m pretty much the only person that’ll put up with you,” Five shrugs. “You’re a bitter old lady already, and you’re only thirteen years old.”

“I suppose I’m the only girl that’ll stick around even after you lose your youthful glow,” you concede. “You were an ugly old man.”

“So?” Five holds out his hand for you to grasp. “Ready for another chance at life?”

You pump his hand twice before dropping it like it’s hot and pulling a folded piece of paper out of your pocket. “Grace gave me a list of things to try. I really want to see what a ‘Ferris wheel’ is.

“I know where it is,” Five says. “It’s right over there.” He points to the direction that it’s in. Instinctively he holds out his hand for you. When he realizes what he’d done, he wants to take it back immediately—he’s still not sure how you feel about him—but he also feels like that would be too awkward.

Without thinking, you take it and start to drag him along, elbowing away people that get in your way.

When you glance back at him, laughing, telling him to hurry up, the breath freezes in Five’s chest. You’re stunning; you’ve always been stunning, and now Five gets another chance at a life surrounded with people, one where he can grow old with you.

He never wants to let your hand go.

Fuck, he thinks. I think I’m in love.

And he’s so whipped.

The Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Pick Your Battles Taglist:

@dadzawas-eyebags

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap

#tua #the umbrella academy #number five #five hargreeves #five x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #reader insert #reader x five #reader x five hargreeves #reader x number five #klaus hargreeves #grace hargreeves

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hangonimevolving · 4 years

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Inside Out and Upside Downs

Hi all. Thought I’d update on various and sundry agenda items going on in my life. Never a dull moment ‘round here.

HEALTH

Firstly, let’s talk about my innards. There’s been a whole lot of activity going on with regard to my innards of late. Thanks to the excitement of my Disney flu adventure and my New Years ICU party, I am now the subject of a great deal of medical speculation and attention, from a variety of parties. I have a standing weekly blood draw and appointment on Thursdays with my hematologist (fancy word for blood doctor) to monitor my platelet levels, and other misc blood-related information that concerns immunoglobulins and weird, mysterious things like that. I have had two appointments, as well as a momma-jomma lab workup, with a rheumatologist (fancy word for doctor who specializes in autoimmune issues). I’ve had an appointment to set up care with a brand-new-to-me primary care physician. And in the middle of all of this, I decided that since I’m going to be in/around the hospital so frequently, I might as well do a short course of physical therapy for my ankle - I never got around to doing it, so now is the time. So that’s a recurring weekly appointment on Tuesdays. I’ve also got random other crap, like a random head MRI happening tomorrow, and I’m sure there will be random tests, scans, and studies that random doctors will order at random times, and I’ll have to fit it into the schedule. I am being thoroughly examined, inside out. And with all of these medical opinions, appointments, tests and what not - in the last 24 days, there has been NO concrete diagnosis or evidence about why this whole thing actually happened. There are several theories, the two most likely of which are a) I have an autoimmune disorder. Well, we already know I have one autoimmune disorder (a not-so-bad one, called Graves Disease/hyperthyroidism, which I was first diagnosed with in 2006, and which involves your own body perceiving your own thyroid gland as a foreign object, and attacking it with antibodies). But now there is some evidence that I may have a second one, possibly a more problematic one, that is causing my immune system to overreact to normal viruses and things, and go on self-destructive rampages against my own platelets. Dumbass immune system. Now, what IS this second autoimmune disorder? THAT we don’t know. Because, the rheumatologist ran that momma-jomma test I was telling you about, and all that showed up is this one value called a positive ANA test which indicated “daaamn, there’s something f%^ed going on in this lady’s immune system!” It was a very high positive result. But, the specific tests to identify antibodies for known issues like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, etc. were all negative at this time. So. To be continued with that whole theory.....

Then there is theory #2, which is b) maybe this whole thing really WAS just the flu. Maybe the strain of virus I got was really bad, and it resulted in such a pronounced war that it just took a toll. Dunno.

Anyway. We’ll obviously be following this medical mystery with my innards closely the next few weeks. Oh, and one more thing: so my platelet levels are sorta trending down. At hospital discharge, I was at like 313K, then the next week it was like 250K, then 180K, and yesterday, 146K. They’re going to keep monitoring, and the hope is that the downtrend will plateau at some point (preferably above 30K), and then it will start to climb up when my own bone marrow gets its shit together and starts producing new platelets. If that doesn’t happen - I’m looking at more IVIG infusion treatments. So let’s see how it all goes down.

WORK

A second area of activity has been my job! The spring semester at Uuuu! started on January 13, and I am teaching two courses this time around, for the first time since 2016. I am teaching my studio dance course, per usual, but I also agreed to a late plea for help from my former department to teach a lecture/discussion course that I’ve taught jillions of times before, but haven’t done in about four years. It feels good to be back in classroom teaching mode. The course meets three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. So I’m quite busy, leaving the house around 8 am to drop the kids off at school, then getting back behind the wheel and making the hour-long drive to campus, arriving by about 9:30 am and teaching my two courses back to back. I have a big huge hike between my classes too, because they’re on opposite sides of campus, so by the time I’m done teaching, it’s about 12:20 and then I have this big long hike back to my car, then the drive back home, and I arrive around 1:30 pm. I grab a bite to eat, then at 2:45 its time to get the kids. Then three days a week, they have their extracurricular activities after school, so I’m shuttling them to those things. Then Tuesdays and Thursdays, all my medical appointments, which have been taking the majority of my mornings and early afternoons. Phew! This is all a far cry from about a year ago, when I had several mornings a week to go for a long run, either in my neighborhood or at the local state park, and I was training intensely twice a week with my Spartan SGX coach. I’ve had to seriously curtail my working out - I took a spill on my first run following the hospitalization, and the entire family freaked out about my putting myself at a bleed risk if I were to fall, bump myself, or otherwise get an injury, even a minor one, while exercising. This has been a huge crimp in my style, not working out - and if I weren't so busy with teaching, I think it would seriously depress me. But I keep telling myself its only temporary, and soon we’ll have some answers to my situation, and I”ll be able to get back into it. Till then, I’m trying to get back into meal prep and eating clean, and doing some mild exercise like light jogs and walks, light weight training, etc.

ADULTING

My mention of weight training is perhaps a segue to this next update, which I’ll keep brief and annoyingly vague. I am going through some painful adulting right now, that makes some moments feel like I’m being swallowed up by a tsunami. I’m gonna survive... but, yeah. I’m wading in the flood right now.

Okay, now for some miscellaneous updates. Mainly so I can post some pictures. This has been very text-heavy for my tastes.

MISC

On the topic of clean eating..... did you know that both papaya and pomegranate are natural platelet boosters? Supposedly. I’ve been doing a lot of research on foods and other natural ways to help boost my platelet production, and these were the top two foods that were consistently mentioned on platelet disorders blogs and forums. I confess I’m not a big fan of these fruits - but I’ve tried to put my tastebuds aside, and incorporate them into every day. Happily, papayas are widely available in the Miami area year-round.

I’ve handled the pomegranate thing by buying 100% pomegranate juice, and making cocktails of pomegranate + papaya juice (which is papaya pulp mixed in pear juice).

On the topic of foods and eating well - here is my guilty indulgence of late. I ADOOOOORE ramen bowls. ADORE. And I know they are the opposite of low-carb and healthy.... but I have been making a ton of them at home lately. I try to make them as healthy as I can, by 1) only using half of the ramen spice packet that comes with the noodles - this cuts the sodium to a tolerable amount (plus I drink lots of water), 2) I sautée minced garlic + approximately one full cup of shiitake mushrooms + approximately 1.5 full cups of baby spinach leaves in a dash of olive oil, and add to every bowl I make (mushrooms are full of B-vitamins and, alongside garlic, are huge immunity boosters, and spinach is full of iron and calcium, and is a good thing for me to be eating to make my blood sort itself out) , and 3) I often either crack an egg over the entire boiling mixture right at the end, or I add in sliced hard-boiled egg for extra folate and protein. And I sometimes add in a handful of raw shredded carrots right at the end, for a little crunch, color, fiber, and beta carotene. I *think* that I’m doing my best to make this indulgence food a little healthier, and tailored to my specific medical situation.

Soup has been a huge craving of late, because we had a surprising cold spell in Miami. It got down to 39F day before yesterday! That’s probably the coldest its ever been since we moved to Florida.

Afternoon snuggle time was especially snuggly - Dey and I were huddled for warmth!

My ability to run and work out at a high intensity may be somewhat muted at the moment, and this has been sort of a hard mental adjustment for me. But I am trying to get outside and do things, because it makes me feel better, and also I imagine the vitamin D is good for me. The other day, I was feeling pretty dumpy and blah - so I did something that for some reason I’d been putting off, “saving” for a special occasion, whatever. I cut the tags off of a brand-new Spartan licensed active top that I’d purchased on Cyber Monday, put it on, and went for a light 2-mile jog in the neighborhood. I felt silly in a way of making a big thing of it in my head - but the truth is, it lifted my spirits.

What else... Oh, this was exciting! GUESS WHAT, dudes. On Monday, I saw a real live MANATEE in the lake behind our house! I could hardly believe my eyes. A neighbor had reported on our community WhatsApp group just the day before seeing a manatee from her backyard. She posted a picture of it, which I am shamelessly going to post here. The manatee I saw, about 24 hours later, was different - it was considerably smaller than this one, I think probably a juvenile (not quite a baby, but definitely not humongous like this one). But it was swimming slowly near the sea wall that abuts our backyard, munching on some sea grass just like this big manatee. I did my best to run into the house and call the kids to come out as quietly as they could to see it - I think they caught a tiny glimpse, but our footsteps must have spooked it, because it definitely swam away quickly. I hope we’ll see it again!

Photographic evidence that we are LEGIT Floridians who hang out with manatees :)

Last but not least - on the topic of water creatures, gotta give a shout-out to my Vev, who “leveled up” at his swimming lessons this week to Junior Swim Team! The swim school has about 10 levels through which kids have to work to get to this point, and in the last ~18 months, Vev has completed them all. I was somewhat nostalgic and verklempt when he got his ribbon this time - I feel like it was only yesterday that we took him to swimming school for the first time, where he screamed bloody murder and cried the entire duration of his 25 minute assessment, clinging desperately to his teacher and feeling panicky about letting go in the water. How far he’s come!

(by the way, Dey is also doing wonderfully at swimming, and is only like 1.5 levels away from his own Junior Swim Team ribbon).

So some of my life is inside out and upside down right now, it is true. But some of it is Upside-Up. I work hard EVERY day to focus on the Upside-Up, and what a treat it is to see. These kids, the sunshine I get to enjoy here, the afternoon snuggle times, delicious food that also is good for me.... net balance is that life is good, I’m still alive and kicking, and everything is gonna work out fine.

Toodles!

#fitness #platelets #Sickness #Vev #Dey #food #animals

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malenkayacherepakha · 5 years

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A Place We Could Escape Sometime

I wrote this little ficlet for @growing-neville fest after I got inspired to explore what plants and gardening meant for Neville.

Thank you @midsummerdancer and @ana-iliad for beta’ing for me, and thank you @keyflight790 for modding this fantastic fest ❤️

Title: A Place We Could Escape Sometime Pairing: Neville x Luna Rating: T Tags: Post War, Getting Together, Gardener Neville Summary: After the war, gardening becomes Neville's escape, and he finds his talents in demand. But can gardening help him finally get together with the woman he loves?

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

They’d all come up with their own ways of coping, after it ended.

Hermione had buried herself in books in preparation for going back to school, Ron had become the stalwart of the family, taking on the responsibility of getting his siblings and parents through their devastating loss. Harry and Ginny had sunk into each other before their love borne of desperation flamed out almost as quickly as it had begun. Harry then turned to work, dedicating hours to his Auror training, while Ginny spent endless days flying around the Weasley’s garden.

And Neville?

Neville lost himself in plants.

His grandmother’s garden was huge, full of endless borders and hidden nooks and crannies. That first summer after the war was beautiful, day after day of bright sunshine and cloudless skies, as if even Mother Nature was celebrating the vanquishing of evil. Neville spent hours just wandering through the garden, taking in the details of all the flowers and bushes, watching as the seedlings sprouted into beautiful blooms.

It was in that garden that he rebuilt himself.

The simple beauty of the flowers and the slow rhythm of nature helped him gradually work through the events of the past few years, helped him process the trauma of that final year with the Carrows, and come to terms with his new status as a hero. The press was full of praise for him, and their interest in him only grew as Harry retreated into work, but the garden was a safe haven from all of that.

Slowly, Neville began to work on the garden. Some sections of it had been long neglected, and he spent months breathing new life into them, clearing weeds and encouraging new plants to take root. He was good at it, and soon those areas were even more wonderful than the rest of the garden, the love and care he had poured into them shining through.

He’d never thought of making a career out of gardening, or even considered that other people might want to make use of his talents until Hermione came to visit one day. They took their mugs out into the garden and began to wander around as they chatted.

Hermione was in the middle of telling Neville all about the house she and Ron had just bought, explaining all the work she wanted to do to it when she stopped dead in the middle of the path.

‘You could do it!’ she said, grabbing Neville’s arm slightly too tightly.

‘I could do what?’ Neville said, regretting having tuned out of the conversation several minutes previously, thoughts of his struggling begonias distracting him.

‘Our garden!’ Hermione said excitedly. ‘It’s such a mess, I’m not sure the previous owner ever even set foot in it, but it could be so beautiful. You’ve done such a wonderful job here - I’d be over the moon if our garden ever looked like this.’

‘Oh, well, yes I suppose I could do it for you.’ Neville said. As Hermione began to chatter away about her visions for the garden, Neville felt himself grow more and more excited. He’d done so much work on his grandmother’s garden that he was running out of things to do, so the prospect of a rundown space with so much potential filled him with anticipation to get started.

Ron and Hermione adored the work Neville did to their garden, raving constantly about how he had transformed it from a wasteland into a stunning cottage garden, filled with brightly coloured flowers and herbs that Ron loved to cook with. They also loved to have people around to visit their house, and by extension the garden, and so all their friends were soon in awe of Neville’s talents too.

Soon, Neville was overrun with people wanting him to sort out their gardens. He turned down all but his closest friends, still wary of people who only wanted to hire him because of his celebrity status.

He steadily began to redo the gardens of each of his friends, designing each one in conjunction with its owner, finding ways to reflect their personality through his choice of plants and styles.

Ginny’s garden was mostly lawn, with plenty of space for her to practice Quidditch drills and big tall trees that kept her out of sight of her neighbours. The flowerbeds that ran along the edges of the lawns were filled with cuttings from the garden at the Burrow, filling the garden with the scents and colours of her childhood.

Dean and Seamus only had a small rooftop garden on the top of their converted warehouse in London, but Neville still managed to work his magic there. Walking out of the room Dean used as his studio, you were greeted by a riot of colour, and when you sat at the little iron bistro table, you could almost forget you were in the middle of a bustling city entirely.

Harry and Draco’s garden was one of the most challenging he had designed. Neville usually discussed his ideas with the garden’s owner, but Harry waved him away, telling him to just do what he wanted, and even Draco, who was normally so particular about his house, only gave Neville the barest guidelines.

Neville spent hours researching plants, trying to find the perfect species to use in his design. No other garden had taken him so long, but the results of his hard work were spectacular. Harry and Draco were speechless when Neville showed them the finished garden for the first time, Harry’s eyes filling with tears as he took in the borders filled with lilies and roses and daisies.

Then, finally, when all the others were done, it was time to work on Luna’s garden. It was simultaneously the one he’d been dreading the most, but also looking forward to desperately.

Neville and Luna had grown closer during his last year of school, coming to rely on each other during those horrible months, needing each other to survive. Neville hadn’t properly realised it at the time, too consumed with survival and the darkness that surrounded them, but in the months after the war, while he tended his grandmother’s garden, he came to realise that his feelings for Luna ran far deeper than friendship.

But then Luna went away. As soon as she finished school, she was off, travelling across the world on adventures, looking for mysterious magical creatures. Neville didn’t have a chance to say anything, let alone explore where his feelings might go if they spent more time together.

And now she was back and asking him for help with her garden. Neville was nervous about spending so much time with her, worried that he would be unable to hide his feelings, scared about how she would react to them.

His nerves melted away as soon as he arrived at Luna’s house on the morning they were due to start work. He’d built everything up in his head, but when Luna opened the door to him that morning, it was as if they’d never spent any time apart.

After Neville talked through his ideas, they quickly got started on clearing the weeds and creating space for the new plants he wanted to add. They quickly fell into sync as they worked, their chatter reducing as they got absorbed in their task. Neville felt himself sink into the old feeling of comfort, of silent acceptance that he’d always felt around Luna, and realised just how much he’d been missing it while she had been away.

The days passed quickly as they worked, the garden slowly taking shape. Each evening, Neville went home exhausted but with his heart full, overjoyed at the way the garden was evolving before his eyes. As each day passed, he also left with more and more hope. He was starting to suspect that Luna reciprocated his feelings.

Every now and then, as they gardened, their hands would meet, and sparks would flash up Neville’s arm. As the touches grew more frequent, Neville began to chance a look up at Luna when they made contact. He thought he saw the desire he felt reflected back at him, but was happy to wait, to let whatever was building between them take its time.

Soon, far too soon, the garden was finished.

The old, flowerless shrubs and withered plants were replaced by bushes that gave off delightful scents and trees whose boughs bent with the weight of their beautiful flowers. Neville had purposefully chosen more unusual looking plants, with multi-coloured blooms and magical properties that could be used to cure all kinds of ailments. The garden was designed to attract as many creatures, magical and non-magical alike, as possible, and also to be low maintenance so that Luna could go on adventures without worrying about it.

He had tried to make the garden a true reflection of Luna, of the wonderful, incredible person that she was. He had poured all his feelings into it as he worked, and they shone through in the bright blues and yellows of the flowers and the vivid green of the leaves.

Neville had refused to let Luna help him on the last day, wanting to be able to show her the finished garden properly. When he determined that everything was perfect, he went inside the house to get Luna.

‘Cover your eyes?’ he said quietly just before he opened the door to the garden.

Once Luna had put her hands over her eyes, Neville took a deep breath, and took hold of her hand, guiding her out of the house and on to the small patio.

‘You can look.’

As Luna dropped her hands and looked around the garden, Neville watched her. He watched the way her large eyes widened even further as she took in the full change, the way her mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. His heart felt so full, overflowing with love, breaking slightly at the thought that their time together was over.

‘Oh, Neville,’ Luna said softly once she had looked her fill.

She turned to him, tears welling up in her eyes.

‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you, thank you so much.’

Neville didn’t respond, couldn’t speak, too overcome by the emotion of the moment, the culmination of the journey that had begun with him slowly pottering around his grandmother’s garden.

Luna, as she always had, understood him perfectly, even without words.

He stood frozen as she walked up to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, hugging him tightly. Automatically, his arms came up to hug her back, and for a long moment they stood like that, holding each other tightly.

Luna pulled back, and they simply looked at each other for a moment, all the unsaid words and feelings flowing between them. Neville felt like he was in a dream as he watched Luna’s eyes flick down to his mouth, as he took in the unspoken question in her eyes and nodded, ever so slightly.

The feeling of Luna’s lips pressing oh so gently against his was like nothing he could have ever imagined, all his dreams coming true as they melted into each other.

#neville x luna #neville longbottom #luna lovegood #growing neville #gardener neville

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