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honestsycrets · 4 years

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The Milkmaid VII: Bright Lights

❛ pairing | ivar x reader, harald & ivar (friend?ship)

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | reader finds her way while ivar argues with a dog.

❛ tags | pregnancy themes, supernatural intervention, ivar being a bad dog owner, he’s a pet boy okay, just not today, angst, but not dark?, i’m not @lisinfleur 😂

❛ sy’s notes | no really he argues with a dog. i was gonna post a gif of ivar on this but my 5B gifs are real s h i t t y. redo.

He should throw your stupid dog down a well. Maybe, if he were lucky, Mimir would shake the knowledge out of the damn thing. But no, instead, he has no more leads to go on than he originally had. The kings stand considering from which direction the dog came from.

“He came from behind the barn,” says Harald.

“He came from the barn,” Ivar scoffs, jerking his finger in the direction. “You think my slave was hiding away in some barn in the cold of night?”

“Maybe if she were hiding from you.”

“That is so helpful,” Ivar snaps at the other king. His men, deep in the woods, shout: there is nothing here! Ivar then turns to Harald with that knowing, all too cocky scowl. He hates it, when he is right. “Do you know what is back there? Brush. Woods and wolves.”

“I’m sure you know what is back there.”

Ivar leers back to the other king confident of his astringent purpose for saying that. Ivar grips his crutch, hobbling a bit closer. “What are you saying, hm?”

“I am saying these things have a way of recurring.”

These things, Harald suggested, is the death of royal children. His child, Freydis’s child, and now… Ivar holds Harald’s gaze for a stubborn few moments before he hisses, not bearing to waste his time with the old king.

“I don’t know why I brought you Harald,” Ivar walks away from the other kind. Harald, now dressed, follows Ivar toward the line of trees. “You have no faith in the gods, no faith in anything.”

“Here I am,” Harald’s expression smooths over from bunched up wrinkles to a state of relaxation, despite his companion’s jabs. After this many years, he became used to the constant jeer of kinds underestimating him. “Are we checking in the brush?”

“If we have to.”

The woods hold their own secrets. Deep in their hearth, past the arching trees and branches that nipped the sky, there had to be something. At the very least, all it could hold, is a vast amount of nothing. He has nothing to gain from continuing to deny Harald. They find themselves following Vala’s tiny steps that carry them deeper and deeper before they stop. Vala turns in a circle. Then sits.

Stupid dog.

“The dog doesn’t know,” Harald grumbles. “Look at him, he is confused.”

Ivar glares at the dog, wondering why, why hadn’t he picked a grown and well-trained dog. He had to pick this thing. Because you wanted him so much. He shouldn’t have let you pick the dog-- you knew good, domestic things. Things of war, protection, and-- this, not so much.

The pup scratches the grown, sniffing and turning, whining and whimpering. And Ivar wants nothing more than to boot him with the butt of his crutch. The dog yips and Ivar’s about had it. He whirls around-- and finds the dog sitting there looking right back at him.

Pest.

If he had been smart, he would have chosen a well-trained hound. But no-- because his heart is weak when it comes to the complaints of his woman, he chose a creature that was as useless as it was cute.

The sun disappeared behind the fjord. You were left with the chill of night as Kattegat’s temperature plummeted below comfortable levels. Too cold to move but too afraid to let the fire run out, you chucked remnants of wood you gathered into the dismal fire until there was nothing but scraps that the fire would snap apart, cracking into its dying breaths. With nothing else to give to the greedy flames, you fold your hands into your woolen dress and pray tight lipped prayers to Frigg.

A small light, barely a flicker, caught your attention out of your peripheral vision. At first you thought it was nothing, perhaps the flicker of an animal’s eyes. If you stayed very still, the wild beast would leave you be, or you so you hoped. It would be tragic, you thought, for the wolves to have two of Ivar’s children. You your legs in a little tighter and curl into the Asvaldr’s plump belly, even as he whines impatiently for your attention.

“Shh, what if it is a beast?” you smooth your hand over his muscular body. “We shouldn’t worry about it, morning will come soon enough.”

Despite your pleads, Asvaldr’s limbs flailed with his attempt to get up. When he does, he effectively thrusts you to the dirt floor. Your hand snaps to your stomach with precaution, resting on your hip. “Asvaldr what is it?”

It was then you saw it for what it was.

A whimsical bouncy flourish of light between the wall of thick trees over a prominent rock. You swing your legs around, using the ground to shove yourself up. Asvaldr clopped closer so that you might hold his reins to support your stance.

“A wisp?”

Asvaldr clops a closer, dragging you along with. It had been some time since you had seen one of these things. The bouncy lights that dragged you, so you heard, to your fate. You chase the wisps into the untraveled path of the forest that way, hanging onto your master’s horse, and praying to the gods the wisps path is a good one.

Well, chase is being kind, when you walk like that.

Ivar’s eyes chase the edges of old trees. They are tall, well grown, wild. All the good plants are wild and free to hold spirits that are just as wild and free. He moistens his cracked lips for the fifth time, debating--

Perhaps Harald had been right. Perhaps you wanted to run to get away from him. Everyone else shared that sentiment. Margrethe, ran from him. Freydis then-- she tried to run from him.

At least he took care of that one. He made sure she didn’t run.

“Ivar!” Harald paces until he finds something, lackadaisically whistling at Ivar. Ivar takes his crutch and jabs it into the hard dirt, carefully scaling the mountain side to where the other king was. He stood about the crispy remains that weren’t yet cool. “Ashes. She was here.”

The stupid little shit yips at his feet. They scan the surrounding area for clues that you had been there. Moist poignantly, he finds, is an overlooked trail leading away from the campsite. He realizes that there is something there-- better than a burnt out campsite or sweep of luck.

A bouncy red flame.

It held his attention for longer than it should have. “Thank the gods,” he finds himself raising the hammer of Thor to his lips, placing a kiss to it, before setting it back upon his sturdy chest.

In looking at Harald, he realized that the old man did not see what he saw. But it was there, jovial and light. “And where are you going?” Harald called out to him. Harald growls a half hearted response and disappears into the trees behind his so called friend. It had better been a lead.

“Come on, old man. You’re falling behind!”

Ivar believes in the ways of the gods and the norns. There is not a fate that lay before man that was not woven from their fingertips. From the strong standing trees to the ones that have collapsed and bore their craggly roots, the trees have an understanding with the nine worlds that humans did not. Humans unlike Ivar, whose faith was uncrackable.

He pressed down from the rolling hill down toward the fjord, scaling with a curse behind every step, because his crutch was complaining as he moved down the hillside. How he could walk the battlefield freely, like a titan, and now plummet to the ground with sand was beyond him. He breaks his fall on his elbows, and to his surprise, his bones don’t crack. He knows Harald is watching him agape as he hurries on his forearms.

“What are those?” Harald at last sees it with that dumb, lost expression splattered across his face. “Is there a Valkyrie here?”

“Do you see a Valkyrie?” he looks to the sky, then across the streaming waters that washed by, searching for the sight of a swan. There was none. He can’t help tease. “Perhaps its all that ale you’ve been drinking.”

Harald’s face is flat and free from a response, just the small, scoffing laugh as he looks about.

At least, Ivar knows, it isn’t in his head this time. Last time-- as it were -- was Freydis’s lies. At least now, here, he knows that Harald sees exactly what he sees. The wisps, fireballs of the norn’s might, leads down from Norway’s rise and drop to the lapsing waves of the water to the grainy shore.

“Hold this,” he hands the crutch he’s been crawling with to Harald.

The scouts he’s gathered fall in a defensive position around the kings. Harald stuffs the crutch under his arm, following Ivar, who now snakes over the ground toward the rocky bend of the beach like he’s fifteen again and innocent to the world despite the men around him. He can see his brother’s long bodies splashing in the cool water against the warm orange that reflected on the sun. Then Hvitserk and Ubbe would come with their spears and Ubbe would show him a feast of fish while Hvitserk had none. Sigurd would have one.

Nostalgia isn’t a good taste on his tongue. That boy-- the one who dreamed of being able to hunt with his big brothers? He’s not a boy he wants to know. He doesn’t want to know the boy that would have rathered slit his throat if only it wouldn’t destroy his mother. So he turns his head across from the still waters and looks toward the forest. At the banks of the waters, he recognizes a decrepit sight-- not from anything he’s ever seen, but something he’s always felt.

“As much as I hate to break up a good moment,” Harald kneels down, holding the crutch over his trousers, “We were hunting your very pregnant slave.”

“Shht,” Ivar snaps back to Harald. “Look there.”

“Look where?” He lurches then, grasping Harald’s wrinkled face and jerks it into the right direction across the waters. A long, grated sigh breaks free from his lips. The waters do not look deep, no. It strikes Harald as strange, as he knows he’s passed by here with his warships, and they’ve been deeper still than the crystal clear waters before. He turns toward his men to shrill something-- when he finds the only company they have is the cold chill of the sea.

Ivar looks back at him, reclining on the palms of his hands, before his head tilts-- and a shit eating smile makes its way up his face. He clicks his tongue like a man would after a lost animal.

“...I’m the donkey then.”

There is a cabin.

It is a thin looking thing that would make anyone question why it was still standing. It’s heavy brown wood stands, but it has clearly been burned by the crispness of its black edges. Someone did not want it to stand. But there it was, proudly displaying a shield that spun above the top of the double doors. Pure blood red with one lone symbol: a raven soars the expanse of the shield.

“This must be your father’s cabin,” Harald says, verging on a dry laughter. Ten years, and here he was, static in the same position he’s always been-- behind Ragnar’s legacy. He sets his hand over a twig like fence that reflects Ragnar and Lagertha’s condition prior to taking up raiding once again. Ivar cradles the crutch, using it like a horse’s bit, over Harald’s throat.

The farm’s gate is shaky at best. When he looks out to the fencing, he recognizes a wispy figure dashing into the gate. That handsome, cut jawline with curls. Inquisitive eyes free of any exhaustion. If he were asked, he knew it could never be.

But it looks like him. It’s his father’s whimsical young figure that dashes in, kissing the soft cheeks of a girl he’s never known, and a brother he wish he never had. Another figure stands at the gate; his energy wispy and white. Athelstan, he recognizes the name, not the body.

“So it seems. Have you been here before?”

The girl stops from watching her father and her brother. Harald pauses, helping Ivar off his sodden wet back, and onto the ground. Ivar upright, the crutch fit under his arm. He’s taller than he’s ever been. More handsome than he’s ever felt.

She offers her hand, and Ivar can’t help look up to it in question. The girl-- he’s never known her name. Only that she was at the midpoint between girlhood and crossing into womanhood.

“You’re my brother, Ivar. I am Gyda,” her voice, it’s softer than the waves that lapse the shoreline. “Have you come here to look for someone?”

“My w--” Ivar stops himself. “My slave. She’s with child.”

“I see.” She hovers there, transparent, but defined in features that paint her energy a rich gold. She was radiant. “I sent Baldur after you to help you find her.”

His heart catches in his throat. A quick glance around reveals nothing. There is no boy next to Harald and he. Harald, sensing the discomfort, glances around the farm to the cooing animals. To the handsome visage of Ragnar and Bjorn, ducking and weaving. Ivar recognizes a pang of longing across his friend’s face. Harald steps over the wooden gate.

“I don’t understand.”

She smiles. “My nephew.”

Somewhere, through the mist, he spots the fireball of light. Something in the deep of his mind reminds him of that cursed little soul: Baldur.

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#Ivar x Reader #Ivar/Reader #Ivar & Harald #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings/reader #vikings x reader #honestsycrets fics

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shadowdianne · 3 years

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A friend who is actually starting to write her own book sent me a little thing back at instagram which was a cute version of inktober. For each day of august a prompt of word. She asked me to do it with her, as a way of making her write even a short paragraph each day and motivate her. I said yes, but since I'm quite the overachiever I did all previous days plus today and my plan is to do them all now that I'm up to date with the ones I was "supposed" to have done. Anyway, the rules we set for this were no tailoring afterward, no editing, and a max of 15 lines. It's not fanfic but if anyone wants to read them...

1.- Circle

The grass was dry beneath their feet as they moved, the nighttime air filled with the chants of those who hold the candles as they moved, shadows undulating, changing, as they rose their arms. However, If anyone would have dared to peek from beyond the trees that surrounded the clearing, they would have only seen the blue formations of the will-o-wisps as they moved and created the never-ending circle and yet, however, if any bystander clever enough, magical enough, interested enough, would have kept on watching, battling against the feeling of being watched that would have crept out on their back, they would have seen the figures, the lights, form and change and transform until the will-o-wisps were gone and, on their wake, the circle would have led to the wings of those departed, waiting for their time to come so they could traverse to the place beyond.

2.- Changeling

Their eyes are never the right color, their mouths form words no-one should speak outload, they teach us to never share our meals, our names with them, for they do not belong to us anymore that they do belong to what lies beyond the veil that permeates magic and secrets. Their souls were sold, way beyond they were formed, even if they wear lead and silver like any mortal would. They can touch salt, and eat it as well, but their redemption lies beyond the crosses and symbols of the religion that they were brought up into. You can make deals with them, they teach us, you can peer into those eyes and try not to lose yourself if you are willing, but remember that their bodies are borrowings, copies of imperfect molds. They exist and they can bring gifts, for they can step into said veil, but there’s nothing that will make them human, or mortal, even if they think of themselves as such.

3.-Lottery

The numbers bled ink onto her palm as she brought it closer to her eyes, the rain around her turning ice-cold as she tried to peer beyond it. The air freezing as she rose her free hand and moved a few stray hairs out of her eyes. She could feel the chill on her back and neck, the razor sting of the water turning to hail. “Is someone there?” She wanted to ask, the silhouette she had seen -she had thought she had seen- walking down the road now nowhere to be found. The lottery ticket kept flapping against the wind, the numbers beginning to smear as she brought it closer to her chest. Numbers, she would soon find out when she entered into one of the few shops down her street that would take it, that changed with notable pace. There was never a wrong one, she would realize, for each number would always be the correct one, would always give the answer that would need to be given in order to win. Then, she would ask, why the ticket was also stained with blood?

4.-Officiate

The bold man rose his arms and looked at us with a grave look, the shadows within the chapel seeming to grow and wreathe as we all stood, waiting. There was very little to do, beyond keeping up with his stare as he repeated the old mantra I’ve known by heart for longer than my years would have said. I let my mind wander when he didn’t stare at me, trying to catch the sins off our memories, the reason why we have been brought up here. I looked at the stained glass at his back, at the stories that were told with jaded crystals that our memories had conjured. With each night, the stained glass seemed brighter, our souls, according to him, purer. And yet, I felt light-headed, weak, as my eyes were captured once more, distant screams scurrying through the floor as we fell, knees first. Again, and again, and again.

5.-Enchant

He eyed the pendant that hung from between their intertwined fingers, the jewel encased in the middle of the brass and silver lines glinting under the electric light that hung above them. He was still able to taste the wine he had consumed a few minutes prior, the tanginess of it, the way it had stained his teeth. The light within the pendant glowed stronger as it beckoned them, their breath halting and then speeding up as their feet rose from carpeted floors, the wood panels that covered the room’s walls seemingly to throb as they kept on grabbing the pendant, the magic, scribbled beyond the details the artisan had created for them both. “A promise trapped in glass” The old man has whispered as he had given it to him. “A secret written within it.” He had replied, the words strange but expected, such was the way of the saying. He now was able to fear the heat radiating from the pendant, the magic, and he knew he had been lied to.

6.-Science

Beakers tinkled as she looked around the room, the papers, scattered around the body, the last strength of the dead man’s hand thrown over one small portion of white paper that was now marred with words she wasn’t able to understand. The inspector knelt next to the body, not bothering to check the man’s pulse as she knew him dead; the trail of blood pooling on his back enough proof of that, alongside with the scalpel, the broken pieces, of what could have been his latest experiment. Outside, beyond the sea of voices so normal in an investigation site, she could almost listen to the crows she had seen upon entering the building, their beaks open in a sempiternal smirk. She frowned and stood, fingers ironing her clothing reflexively as she took into the laboratory, the slight stench of fluids that had been spilled. And then she winced as her finger opened, sliced by one of the speckles of glass that covered her pants. Stupid, noob, she could listen to the scornful remarks others would tell her, if only the heat that now seemed to burn from her insides would end.

7.- Basket

It was sturdy, the old woman would often say when trying to sell the ones she made in front of her home, the porch worn and slanted but still giving her enough shade for her hands to work without breaking a sweat. It was sturdy and practical and all new-commers should buy one. What would you do, she would say with eyes so clouded they looked like the sky in a stormy day, with the things one was supposed to carry for long travels? What would you do with your food and waterskins? Where would you carry them? She would scoff at the words of those who politely told her that they had their backpacks. “They are not as reliable” She would reply, but she would shoo them away nevertheless, her interest depleted the moment they told her that they were supposed to go for the distant mountains, the ones that seemed blue from where they stood. She would insist more, sometimes, if they seemed hesitant to say not to her, toothless smile and quick tongue quickly lifting a few coins from their purses. It was sturdy, she would say to them, as she gave them the promised basket, the sigils woven into it blinking once, twice, beyond their eyes. She would smile then, promising them good travels, safe travels. She was rarely wrong.

8.- Ensnare

The gardener looked at yet another vine, sweat rolling down his brow, he could feel the dirt slowly resettling itself as he watched, the steps of the poor unfortunate who had ended up being trapped, ensnared, by the vines already beginning to disappear. There was very little he was able to do now, the body mangled beyond recognition, and so he brought a clean cloth and his sears and began the process of recollecting what little he was able to get, at least for the ones who had lost another family member, for the dead to be tolled, he didn’t quite hate his job, it paid well, as long as he himself kept away from the vines covering the mausoleum’s door. But there were days like this one, days in where the heat bothered and the vines were more playful than usual and their teeth nipped at his fingers, that he wondered about taking that final step, devoid of the protections the pendant around his neck gave him. If only to see if there was actually a way of getting lose from them all.

9.-Sky

Their wings fluttered, moved by the breeze that only they could see, and as the night covered everything in velvety black, the wings of the creatures grew in size, changing the sun with the moon, their eyes black holes that blossomed into galaxies only those keen eyed, where able to distinguish on the earth below. They danced around each other, the aurora borealis a stamp of colors their tails created their flight erratic for every night is different and every sky varies, even with the matted imperfections of their plumage -the constellations, those mortals would call them- The planets aligned as the sun disappeared, one last bite of fire hanging low on the horizon, and they kept on dancing, on transforming day to night, and then back and back again.

10.-Box

The box was engraved, numbers of family members so old it was difficult to remember them any longer. It was also covered in dirt, from the grave they had dug it up, their secrets locked away with a lock as well crafted as it was gorgeous; rust not seeming able to corrode the details of the metal parts that surrounded the names. Cold to the touch, permanently, it seemed to leave a thin layer of frost no matter what object it touched, and she bit down her bottom lip as she tried to remember the old nursery rhymes her grandmother used to sing to her, about the secrets she was supposed to inherit, the clues she was supposed to recall. Nothing, however, came forth, her own fingers felt cold and detached and her vision blurred and gone, the will-o-wisp lights that had seemed to grow stronger the last time she checked into the forest that surrounded the home coming closer and closer to her now, asking for a permission they didn’t need as her own soul had granted such.

11.- Catapult

He run, almost slipping over a pool of oil as the noise of the fighters and soldiers below reached him, the sweat on his brow getting heavier with every passing second. He had been tasked with one thing and one thing only: being a novice there was only so much he could do with a sword after all. And so, he run, run towards the catapults waiting outside the castle, beyond the riverbank. All the careful planning had been for naught as they had found a way into the place using the old catacombs, the ones in where numbers appeared written in blood, passages of a bible so cursed there were only a few that could remember the name of the book itself. He hadn’t dared to ask how the enemies had found a way in; the eyes full of fear of his sergeant had been telling enough. And so, he willed his legs to carry him further as he kept on descending the stairs, moving between bodies, and propelling himself in-between those who fought. He had one job and one job only and he needed to reach the riverbank. Or else.

12.-Ladder

The wood of the ladder splintered beneath her fingertips, but she didn’t pay any mind to the pain on her flesh. There was no point to it, after all, for everything she had tried lied dead at her feet, the eyes of the multitude stuck on her as she felt stricken by fear. She had been propped up the unlit bonfire, read her sins, what she had been accused off, and called forth a blessing from the mute skies. She had looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she searched for the birds that changed as the seasons did; she had been taught, instructed, to find those in the case she was found. Yet, nothing came forth on that starless night, not even when she began to feel the stench of fog and fire about to reach her feet. For that, for fear, she transported herself as far as her powers allowed her; to the silo next to the old road; the one in where Old Granny used to sell her baskets to those stupid enough to transverse to the mountains. The silo was closed now, rot settling in of what had been a small hut back when she had been a child, and so she had waited and waited for the screams outside to disappear, her legs around the end of the ladder, her arms, and hands clutching the top of it. A mere second longer, she thought, she prayed, and she would be able to escape, to flee, to those blue mountains she still could see on her mind’s eye.

13.-Carnivorous

The wolf is not evil, despite its large smile and piercing teeth, its tongue as red as the blood it consumes. The wolf is not evil but a warning, one created by the path that moves and curls around the forest, a way of keeping you focused and not dead. The wolf is not evil, it eats what you eat, it grows from what you learn. The wolf is not evil but a companion, one to listen to when you are traveling, hoping for the next curve of the trail to show the shadows of a town nearby. The wolf is not evil, but a guide, a mortal one, that can travel between what you know and what you definitely shouldn’t pry about. The wolf is not evil. Merely carnivorous.

#yes #they are connected #in a way #I'm creating a time line on the go but I plan to have something done by the end of the month that you can follow through if you read them #aughost

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detroitbydark · 4 years

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Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: when life (or Thire) gets him traffic duty, Hound makes the most of it.

Warnings: None

A/N: I shouldn’t be starting a new work. I really shouldn’t. I also shouldn’t have decided to write a oneshot, talked to @skdubbs and have four chapters plotted out.

This does take place in the Fox and Mouse verse (around chapter 6 if I remeber correctly).

————

“From Kessel to Kijimi, this is Nuna Skii flying you through the dark hours of the night. I’d like to give a shout to-.”

Hound hunches forward over the handle bars to the GAR issued speeder. Traffic Ops. Kriff.

It would teach him to make a bet with Thire. Then again, how was he to know that the Commander actually had it in him to bag the cute little secretary that took up guard duty outside of his office door.

Obviously not Hound.

The ARF Sargent sighs before turning the radio up. He’d rather be back in his barracks with his massiff at his feet than clocking for speeders and traffic violations. It wasn’t that it was below him it was just… well it was below him. He didn’t go through recon school to be looking for our of date tags.

At least he got to listen to his favorite radio show.

“-and more of that sweet jizz music coming from Dantooine as a special favor to my boys in the 332nd”

Nuna Skii’s show on Independent Republic Radio was a favorite of many a trooper. Overnights were osik but the sweet smoky sound of her voice and the frequent shoutouts - often laced with innuendo - were definitely one way to pass the time. And if her voice was stored in the spank banks of half the troopers in the GAR? Well, that was just an added bonus to her show.

“Just you, me and an empty sky lane tonight, eh Nuna?” He asks the radio.

“How about we take another deep dive into an absolutely delicious track, yeah?”

“You could sell me some ocean front property on Tatooine and I'd pay top dollar. Hit me with it, babygirl.”

He only does a handful of stops and doesn’t write a single ticket for the next six hours.

———

She was so karking tired. Like, tired was an understatement. Half-dead might be more correct. She needed atomic grade caf or a bed to pass out in immediately. Glancing at the near stalled traffic in front of her, Nuna can’t help but think she wasn’t going to get either anytime soon.

The joys of working nights.

She really did love her job. To be a young holoradio jockey and have a spot on any station on Coruscant was pretty damn amazing but to have it on IRR? probably the single coolest station in the core worlds? It was a dream come true. Most of the time.

A yawn escapes her lips and her speeder rattles ominously underneath her.

“Oh- no, no, no.” She mutters looking down at her gauges. Warning lights flash brightly. She’d just gotten the kriffing thing out of the shop last week. They were supposed to have fixed the thrusters. The bike leans to the right and Nuna feels the tell tale swoop in her stomach from a sudden drop in altitude. It wasn’t much more than a few feet but if it was anything like it was the week before she needed a landing platform. And fast.

The early morning light bounces off the transparisteel buildings around her as she tries to find the nearest safe bet. Her speeder bike coughs once and jerks again, jostling her helmeted head. She sucks in a sharp breath as it pulls hard, dragging her from the skylane and into open air. It’s a struggle to keep the thing upright as she tries to guide it in for a landing on the nearest platform. Lights flash in her rear view.

“Really? Really?!” She hisses to herself as her muscles strain to keep the bike on course.

She manages to land the malfunctioning speeder, the ungainly pile of scrap plopping down with all the grace of a pregnant nerf.

The Coruscant Guard bike, all sleek lines, gunmetal grey and cherry red accents lands feet behind her.

Hers makes one last wheeze and cuts off. The good thing is, she’s wide awake now. No caf needed.

“Ma’am?”

Nuna turns to see the visage of snarling maw cocking it’s head in her direction.

“You ok?”

She swallows hard. It was a known fact within her small circle of friends that Nuna Skii - the real Nuna Skii not the sex kitten holojockey- was absolute mush for a guys in uniform and the one stepping closer was definitely one that would make her heart pump harder if it weren’t already for the adrenaline of a near death experience. If there was a name for kink involving men in helmets Nuna had it.

“I- uh- yeah” she takes a deep breath because now was not the place and certainly not the time, “I’m good”

The trooper's head cocks the opposite direction as he points toward her handlebars. “You know you're ok to let those go now, right?”

A nervous laugh escapes her lips. Her hands feel stiff from the exertion of the landing and she wiggles her fingers, forcing the blood back into them as she pulls them back toward her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Can I see your identichip and registration?”

Nuna gives him a blank stare for half a second, eyes moving almost comically from his outstretched hand and back up to his helmet. His free hand rests at his kama, index finger tapping idly. He’s got to be kidding, she nearly died and he was going to-

“You're going to give me a ticket?” She pulls her helmet off with little fanfare and hangs it from the handle bars. “Really? I nearly died and now I’m getting a ticket?!”

The trooper holds both hands up, “Easy there. No one said anything about a ticket. Just because you broke about three different traffic codes and at least two vehicular safety ones...” he lets the implication of what he’s said hang in the air.”

Nuna pulls the requested items out of her bag and hands them to the trooper with more aggression than needed but, damn it all, she was so tired she could cry and now she had to deal with a broke down speeder. Again.

She watches as the trooper looks down at the identichip and then back to her. Once, twice, three times.

“Is there a problem?”

“You’re Nuna Skii- I mean like the real Nuna Skii?” The tone of his voice has changed and he almost seems… excited?

“Uh yeah, guilty as charged. Listen, is this going to-“

“Say, ‘flying you through the night on IRR.’”

“Is this part of your usual traffic stops?” Nuna raises a brow at the trooper. Really? Did it ever get strange enough. She swings a leg over the seat and moves to stand. Her legs shake underneath her and tall, excitable and toothy holds out a gloved hand.

“Here, let me help you.”

She takes it because falling flat on her face really doesn’t seem like something she wanted to add to her laundry list of problems this morning. When she’s standing at her full height, which was substantially shorter than the solid wall of clone trooper in front her, she looks up.

His hand moves to the back of his helmet and rubs gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound demanding.” He says almost bashful. “It’s just that if-“

She takes pity on him. “From Corellia to Canto Bight, flying you through the night on Independent Republic Radio”

He stands frozen for a moment. Nuna squirms under the unflinching state of his visor until finally-

“Holy Fett! It’s really you! Listen! I- I mean we- the Guard- we’re like your biggest fans.”

The wind whips up through the levels ruffling the hair on her head, deep lilac colored wisps work their way into her mouth and she spits uselessly before reaching up and using her fingers to remove them. “That’s great really-“

Her hands go to her hips. Was this guy for real?

“Hey, I know a guy that does towing. He’s kind of a di’kut but he owes me a favor. I could get your ride towed where you need it. I mean, if you want?”

“Like, for free?” She clarifies.

The trooper looks down at her as if that was a given, “well, yeah.”

“And you want what in return?” Nuna fidgets. This is where the guy becomes a dirtbag and asks for something. He hands back her identichip and registration before reaching up and popping the seal on his bucket. He gives her a lopsided grin as he slips the helmet up his arm. Kriff. He was cute. His dark hair is cut into a floppy Mohawk. A stray curl of it dips down across his forehead and he offers her a lopsided grin. He is about as intimidating as a puppy.

“Can I get a shout out on your show tonight? I mean, the boys are NEVER going to believe this unless you do.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it” he seems to think for a moment and his smile becomes toothy, “unless you’d like to give me your number too?”

She can feel the hot rush of embarrassment to her cheeks and hopes he mistakes it for wind burn. She ignores his comment about her number because, this fine specimen was so far out of her league it was crazy.

“So What’s to stop me from saying yes and not doing it”

“Aww come on, please? You wouldn’t do one of your biggest fans like that would you?”

“What’s your name?” She can’t handle the soft puppy dog eyes he’s giving her. It should be illegal for any dude with shoulders that broad to look so cute.

“Sargent Hound of the Coruscant Guard at your service.”

She nearly chokes. Well, that explained the puppy dog eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Sargent.” She says regaining her composure. She looks behind him to the GAR issued speeder. “If you can drop me at my building I’ll call it a deal.”

His smile makes her tummy flutter, “I think that can be arranged.”

——-

“You’re full of it” Rule barks “Osik up to your visor!”

Hound is lounging back on a couch that is not nearly large enough for both him and the massiff sprawled out on it. Grizzer lifts his head, licks his lips lazily and lays back down. Hound scratches around the creature's dorsal spikes and the massiff kicks his back foot happily.

“I told you man. It was her. Identichip verified and everything.

“El-Tee? You hear this?”

Lieutenant Thire looks up from his holopad and the boloball game he was watching, “what?”

Rule is grinning from ear to ear, “Hound here says he helped Nuna Skii out of a bind this morning.”

“I’m not just saying it. I did it.”

Hound explains lazily. He doesn’t tell them about giving her a ride home, pretty sure he broke about half a dozen regs just having her pressed up against his back and her arms around his waist and that was before he dropped her at her building. It was early enough in the day that he doubts anyone really noticed. If they did it was worth it to have her hands clutching at his armor.

Hound had pictured Nuna Skii so many times that the fact that she wasn’t a leggy blonde had come as a shock. What she was wasn’t a bad thing, just different. Short and soft with curves in places he wished he could run his hands all over.

“Prove it!” Ryk laughs as he ambles in, freshly showered and pulling his blacks over his head.

“Should we tell ‘Em Grizz, old man? Or should we just let them eat their buckets when it happens?”

Ryk rolls his eyes as the ARF Trooper chats with his massiff. “You know he’s never going to answer back, right?”

Grizzer looks over his shoulder at Ryk.

“Aww come on man” Hound fusses. One mearty hand moves to scratch under the massiff’s intimidating jaw. Grizzer turns into the touch, nearly purring with contentment. “Just because he can’t speak basic doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand it. Isn’t that right boy. We got our own language, Grizz and I. Smartest mas’ in the whole GAR, aren’t you?”

The creatures leathery tail thumps happily in agreement.

“Don’t know about that but he certainly smells a lot better than the bunch of you.” Thire mutters turning his attention back to boloball and cursing quietly. Ryk lifts an arm smelling.

“Not me! I’m squeaky clean!”

“We’re getting off track here” Rule announces in an attempt to refocus the gathered troopers. “What we need to know is how you're going to prove you met Nuna Skii.”

“Did she sign a ticket?” Thire asks, not looking up. When Hound doesn’t answer Thire looks up.

“She was having a really bad morning-“

“You do know when you work traffic you have to ticket people at least once in a while.”

“Apparently, not the pretty ones.” Ryk cackles.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, vod.”

Ryk rolls his eyes as Hound moves to turn the radio on. Nuna’s show was starting any minute. He hoped she’d come through.

———-

Around and around Nuna spins. The wheels on her roller chair are in desperate need of oil and squeak in protest. Nuna is undeterred as she waits for the next commercial to end. Her producer glances at her through the transparisteel divider and rolls her eyes. Yes, she was a child. No, she would not be apologizing. She grabs a cold protato from a greasy Dex’s bag as she makes another loop. If her fans could see her now. She’s got on an oversized tunic and a pair of dark pants that were probably a little too tight but were way too comfortable for her to care. When she woke her hair wasn’t about to do anything for her so now it sits piled high in a sloppy bun atop her head. She was about as far away from the character she portrayed as she could get.

“On in fifteen Nunz” Tully her producer says. Nuna hurries to swallow her food and takes a big gulp of water.

“And that was the Twi’Three with their latest and I’m Nuna Skii keeping you up all night.” She purrs into the mic. “I think we’re going to go to the comms and take a few calls. Whatcha wanna let the galaxy know?”

“Hi Nuna. Long time listener. I just wanted to say that I love the show but I’m getting really tired of your pandering to clones-“

Nuna mashes the end button with gusto before sighing deeply into the mic.

“Babies and Gentlemen. My lovelies. From 2100 til 0500 five nights a week this is a trooper positive show. If you don’t like it I’d suggest you find something else to listen too. Those yummy boys in white are giving the Republic their all. I don’t see a problem with a few minutes here and there dedicated to them, do you?” She asks sweetly. “It makes me happy making them happy. You know what else makes me happy? New stuff from that Mon Cal band, Ach’tu. Coming at you after this commercial break”

———-

“Maker, I love when she does that.” Ryk groans quietly. “She could put me in my place any day.”

Rule nods, “she could read me the repair manual to my deece and I would die a happy man.”

Thire snorts, “What about you Hound. Got something to say?”

“Yeah man” Ryk lifts his head from where he was resting it against the back of his chair. “What does she look like.”

Hound offers a sly grin, “like a million credits.”

“Long legs? Big tits? You're killing us man” Rule says raising a brow, “unless you don’t really know.”

Hound laughs, “I know vod, but I’m not telling.” His brothers roll their eyes.

“For all my blaster babes and bucket bunnies happily messing with republic property. I salute you.” Nuna’s voice grabs the gathered troopers attention. Thire snorts softly, pretending as if he wasn’t listening. “Along those lines I want to send a special thanks to my new favorite Hound dog out there patrolling the sky lanes of Coruscant. Keep being a good boy and next time we meet I’ll give you a scratch behind the ears.”

The room falls silent except for the low snore of a sleeping massiff. All eyes fall on Hound. His smile says I told you so.

A good boy. Yeah, he could be very happy with that.

#clone sargent hound #tcw #sargent hound/oc #am i the official author of the coruscant guard #coruscant guard

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Note

Hiya! How’s quarantine treating you? Could I request you write something about him waking you up in the middle of the night cause he couldn’t sleep and just having cute nonsense discussions? You can choose who it’s with 😊 stay safe! xx

Hi, love. I’m not really taking requests at the moment. However, I am in the middle of a weird slump with an unbridled urge to write but none of my fics are working for me. So I’m attempting this–I got carried away. Whoops.

Brief mentions of chronic pain. If anything is inaccurate, please let me know! I didn’t want to get overly detailed and be completely wrong, but am willing to take constructive feedback.

Hella late, and I’m sorry about not making this in time for @disabledsos and @skinnylukes. My major apologies! But after watching and listening to that community it was put onto my soul to at least try.

Song requests can be sent it, but they too are on a small delay.

Enjoy my masterlist!

No specific gender or race is given.

_____________________________

One Hundred Sleepless Nights

He hadn’t meant to wake you really.

Well, not wake you like this. Not to have you bolting upright in bed. “I’m sorry,” Calum urges, trying to suppress a giggle.

The moment the lights turned out in his bedroom, Calum’s brain found everything to think about it. Like the song he hadn’t finished mixing that day or the hunt for yeast for your new baking adventures went on for another week. For the moment, baking sweets had curbed the urge to bake bread, but he still wanted to find some yeast soon because he wasn’t sure he could endure another batch of sweets. They would rot his teeth and he knew for the time being, he had no real responsibilities so he could have as many as he wanted. Which was never a good idea.

And sure, he should’ve scrubbed the floors today instead of waiting for tomorrow. But god, there were only so many things he could do in a day and between meetings and promotion, there just wasn’t time for everything. And after deep breathing for a good ten minutes with no luck, Calum fitfully turned onto his side, trying, praying desperately for sleep to find him. But in the frustration, he flopped a little too hard and now you’re upright, blearily reaching in the dark.

“Who do I have to kill?”

“Coming from the person that doesn’t have the guts to kill a spider,” he scoffs. “But my brain would be nice if you can move it to the front of the hit list.”

Your heart is still racing a little in your chest but you settle back down, turning onto your side to face Calum. In the small ounces of moonlight that filter in through the curtains, you can see Calum’s worry lines creasing his face. You run your fingers over them, attempting to smooth them out like clay on a throwing wheel. “For the record, spiders have eight legs. That’s six too many and I’m not about to get into a ring with a creature with eight legs. It’s called being smart. Now, what’s the matter, bub?”

“Too many things to do. Not enough time.”

“Ain’t it how life goes?”

“Unfortunately.” He closes his eyes to the repeated soft drag of your finger tips across his forehead. You move to his temple, following his hairline around, down the outskirts of his cheek and along his jaw. Your fingers are so light as they drag down his chin. Jokingly you use the pad of your thumb to lightly pull on his bottom lip before letting it snap back into place.

“You know I’m here right? I can help you out.”

“You need to rest.”

You know he’s saying it because of your own bouts with health concerns. But you can help out. “Nonsense. I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

It’s your go-to phrase and while Calum would normally argue with you tooth and nail that even though that was technically true, you could also rest while still alive. But instead of the normal playful respond, it just hurts. The pain, though he had no measure for it, always held over you and you did your best to get through the bad days.

His arm finds your waist in the dark and he drags you into his chest. His exhale is shaky into the crook of you neck. You don’t miss it in the silence that’s settled around you. You wind your fingers into his hair. “Aliens–real or a farce?”

His lips drag across your skin and you feel the first tear drop, it’s warm as it runs down. He sniffles, trying to ease the shakes and quaking of his throat. “Uh, real,” he finally answers.

You give a short laughter. “If they turn out to be green, I think I’d shit my pants.”

“I don’t think they’re green. So you’re safe.”

His fingers cradle your skin. They flex, wanting to curl, like he can’t keep a tight enough grip around you but knowing not to hold too tight. You kiss along his collarbone, even over the silver fern. “I’m stealing the Empathy hoodie tomorrow.”

“What if I wanted to wear it huh?”

“Well, too damn bad,” you return. Sleep is pulling at the edges of your consciousness but you’re determined not to sleep before Calum. “At least I know I won’t lose it.”

“It was just buried in my closet, give me a break.”

“For months! I was positive I’d never see it again.” He can feel your breathing evening out against his chest. But the wisp of your breathe over his skin lets him know you’re still awake. “You come back incarnated as a bird, right?” He hums, to let you know he’s listening. “What do you want to come back as?”

“I’m not sure we necessarily get to choose.”

“Just humor me,” you mutter, inhaling the scent of his body wash, musky but wholly Calum in your nostrils.

“Hmm, owl, maybe? My bird knowledge is lacking.” As he answers, you can hear the small pauses between the words. Like sleep might be finally grasping at him.

“I can see it.”

“What about you?”

“Sparrow, maybe a Horned Lark.”

“A Lark?” Calum asks, his body starts to outweigh his brain. Though it’s still heavy emotionally, maybe some release is better than holding it all in.

“I said what I said,” you giggle, unsure of how to describe the light brown bird.

The silence stretches on. Part of you waiting for Calum to have something else to say, another question primed on his lips, or a smart retort. It’s not easy. Having a long stretches of bad days, no energy, barely finding any strength to even feel remotely human. It’s exhausting. It’s draining. It’s natural to find the lows and feel like you’re sinking even lower. But you claw for those good days.

Soon you’re positive he’s asleep. “I’m good,” you whisper. “The good days are right now.”

Calum hums at the sound of your voice, lips barely parting to move and form the words as sleep finally takes him completely under.

-H

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tomokahiroshi · 4 years

Text

"Sure, I'll get going."

Moving to the exit, he waves.

"See you later then."

"Likewise, dear Captain."

The moment he's a good distance away, the woman snaps her finger and the sound echoes throughout the empty library.

"Coast clear."

And from a corner close by, a girl of green hair with glasses peeks out.

The Assistant Alchemist, Sucrose.

"Th- Thank you, this... this should be sufficient."

Humming, Lisa nods with a smile.

"Yes, dear, it should be."

What a day it is today.

It doesn't take long for the man to spot their Outrider at the entrance of their Headquarters, alongside the Honorary Knight.

"Yo."

Grinning slightly, he raises his hand in greeting.

"What's up?"

"There you are!"

Amber waves in response, while the Traveler by her side wordlessly nods in acknowledgement.

"We spotted something in Windrise today!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

The tanned man hums, folding his arms.

"Do tell me about it."

After a while of explaining, he decides to join the duo in taking a look at the odd "thing" they saw by the Statue of The Seven's side.

A doll-like creature, small and has the ability to levitate.

It's nothing like what they've ever seen before.

To make it more complicated, said creature also seems to have a will of its own and constantly dodges their attempts on getting a hold of it.

Their little game of chase goes on until dusk, only then did they lose track of the poor thing and decide to return to the Headquarters.

Throughout the duration of it, however, the man has to admit that it's rather entertaining.

And nostalgic, since he used to play that kind of game with...

`"Catch me if you can!"

"Challenge accepted!"`

The sound of their laughter in those distant days still ring clearly in his ears, echoes of a pleasant childhood he knows he doesn't deserve.

"Sheesh, it was so fast."

Amber huffs on their way back.

"And small too, which makes grabbing it all the more difficult."

"You can't blame it, really."

Paimon, the Honorary Knight's floating companion, comments.

"When some strangers just suddenly show up and try to get a hold of you, of course you run."

"That's right."

Kaeya hums, holding his chin in thought.

"Besides, I'm sure I at least managed to tell what kind of thing it was."

At this, the brunette turns to him immediately.

"You did? That's fast!"

"Of course."

Smirking, he continues.

"It's an elemental being, a wisp amongst Mondstadt's thousand winds."

And once again, a remark catches him off-guard.

"You're amazing, Sir Kaeya!"

The Outrider did not just-

"I'm glad we have you within the Knights' ranks!"

Oh Barbatos, his face must have looked so ridiculous that it caused both Amber herself and the Traveler to stare when they finally took notice of it.

"Kaeya?"

Paimon waves a hand in front of his eyes.

"Helloooo?"

Maybe his smile literally froze on his face, though.

"He's acting weird..."

Amber mumbles.

"Well, at least we're here now."

Indeed, they're currently standing just before the entrance of the Knights of Favonius' Headquarters.

The sky, painted in fiery orange of the setting sun, reminds the man of someone's eyes.

Orbs that shine with burning passion, an unrelenting desire to protect this land with everything this person has.

A tug on his sleeve brings him back to reality, looking to the side to find their Honorary Knight smiling up at him.

The third thing is...

Why is everyone suddenly so hard to read?

From the ones he met early morning to those he met in the late afternoon, they're all so...

Unpredictable.

And Amber beams at him, taking his right hand as the Traveler had his left.

Then they lead him inside together.

His heart skips a beat once the large doors open, revealing the rest of Ordo Favonius along with colorful decorations.

As well as a gigantic "Happy Birthday" hanging from the ceiling.

"Happy birthday, big bro Kaeya!!"

Klee comes jumping down from a hovering flower - Albedo's, he notes - and throws various cute-looking things, which he's sure are explosives.

Although when they do blow up, it's all confetti and glitter.

So this is why Jean agreed...

The two by his sides quickly let go of his hands as the small girl falls right into his arms, giggling.

"Yay!! The new formula worked!"

"Splendidly."

Lisa chuckles, snapping her fingers and the lights go out.

"Time for the cake."

At this, he sees a cart being pushed out by Noelle and candles illuminate the area.

On it lays a cake of three layers, each of a different color.

Ocean blue, ice blue and white, from top to bottom.

"Please make a wish, Sir Kaeya."

Along with the maid's smile, he makes out everyone else's in the dimly lit lobby.

Ah... a birthday wish.

Smiling back at them, he nods.

But what should he wish for, really?

They went through the trouble to organize a party for him right under his nose and it is rather impressive how they've managed, if he were to be honest.

He knows the birth date is always on one's profile when they apply for a job, but he didn't expect them to pay that any mind.

Especially when it's his.

He hadn't celebrated it in years, after that event took place.

...

He would be lying if he said there was nothing he wanted to wish for, though.

`"Happy birthday!"`

The image of a young boy, smiling brightly as he handed Kaeya a gift.

That had been the first time someone threw a birthday party for him.

Chuckling, the tanned man moves to blow the candles as his wish comes to mind.

A childish dream he still believed in.

The girl in his arms cheer when everybody's applause resounds, light flickering back on with another snap of the librarian's fingers.

"On behalf of every knight within Ordo Favonius, I thank you for your contribution in maintaining the peace of our city."

Jean steps forward, a hand on her heart as she speaks.

"We hope that you enjoy your time here, as well as allowing this place to become your second home."

The warmth in his chest intensifies, a feeling he hadn't felt for so long.

And the woman smiles.

"Everyone, let us say it together."

From the shy Assistant Alchemist to the outgoing Outrider, from the strict Acting Grand Master to the friendly Honorary Knight, from the rarely seen Chief Alchemist to the ever-present Apprentice Knight, from the graceful Librarian to the explosive Spark Knight.

All of them, with bright smiles, go on and-

"Happy birthday, Kaeya!"

Even if his eyes feel a bit like burning right now, the man grins back at them.

"Thank you, all of you."

He doesn't think he deserves it.

Yet as he feels their sincere affection and gratitude, he can't push them away.

Perhaps... for this occasion, he'll allow himself to be honest once more.

When stars fill the night sky and the moon ascends to its peak, the Cavalry Captain leans onto the railing of the small balcony as the party goes on inside the building.

He wonders if... it could have been this way, if none of the horrible events a few years back happened.

Other than throwing a party for him, Sucrose gave him quite a pleasant surprise by being able to make untesils somewhat "alive". Perhaps that was why she needed them this morning, so they could easily move around for everyone to use.

The girl's bio-alchemy skills are getting better and better, as expected of someone working alongside Mondstadt's best alchemist.

Well, she had potential anyway.

That said-

"... Having some time to yourself?"

He pauses upon hearing the voice.

This can't be-

"That is to be expected, you've never been a big fan of parties despite your eccentric nature."

Whipping his head to the source of the voice, he finds a familiar redhead sitting on the railing to the side - a leg on it and one dangling - away from people's view, in a black cloak he hadn't seen for so long.

"You..."

His voice comes out barely audible, like a faint whisper of utter disbelief.

"Why..."

"I want nothing to do with the Knights of Favonius."

The other sighs, glancing at him.

"But since it is a special day, I'll make an exception."

At that, the tanned man goes silent.

An exception? For...

"Before you even get to that, stop."

Currently masked, the redhead only waves him over.

"Come here."

That mask is different, not the same one he used before.

Considering what it was for, it isn't hard to understand why the other abandoned it along with "that".

Confused but curious, he does as he was told and stops in his tracks upon seeing the offered hand.

"... Diluc?"

At the mention of his name, the other averts his gaze.

"Hurry, we don't have all night."

Smirking, Kaeya finally takes the hand and chuckles quietly.

"Where are you taking me, O Nocturnal Guardian of Mondstadt?"

"... You'll see soon enough."

In quick succession, the redhead pulls the man closer to himself and sweeps him off of his feet using his leg.

The smirk on the Cavalry Captain's face immediately gets replaced by a look of surprise due to the sudden bridal carry and in turn, the Darknight Hero's lips quirk up slightly.

"Mond's Knight of Ice."

#post #text #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr #jean gunnhildr #lisa minci #noelle #amber #the traveler #klee #albedo #sucrose #venti

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chaptersofnow · 4 years

Photo

the youngest nieces of Celestia and Luna

Cozy Glow and Princes Ordomia

two relativity plot important characters to my next gens story lol

Bios under the cut.

Name: Cozy Glow Nickname(s): Age: 27 Pronouns: She/her Identity: Trans Lesbian crush/relationship: Dating Sweetie Belle Parents: Adoptive Aunts Celestia and Luna Sibling: Princess Ordomia Special Talent: Strategy Occupation: Personal Gaurd for Ordomia Location: Canterlot Likes: Chess, Telling people what to do, being in charge, doing what she wants to do, cute cakes Dislikes: unhygienic ponies, being made fun of Bio: After the event of Cozy Glows schemes to rid the world of magic forever failed instead of begin sent to tarturus she simple got away, hiding out and plotting. she still spoke to tirek in letters but beyond that was untraceable. Then when Discord brought her, chrysalis, tirek and sombra all together they all together schemed to use friendship to do evil. Little did they realize that learning friendship actually, taught them friendship? like who would have guessed. So when the elements and all their friends showed up to save the day something about seeing the power of friendship, what it was capable of it changed something in them. they realized how close they had all become over the last months under the discords underlying lesson. So when twilight and her friends gave out a life line, a friendly hand they took it. Chrysalis would be reunited with her people, each to forgive one another and to grow. Tirek would learn reformation by starswirl and those who knew him and his brother personally. While Cozy Glow went to Cantorlot Castle with the princesses. Cozy still had some work, she was ready to move forward but still had a tick of scheming in herself. often still getting into trouble. This was taught out of her by her new Aunts Celestia and Luna who home schooled the filly until she learned to behave. learning lessons on using the power and abilities you have for good, to work with others and make changes for the better. Twilight often visiting to continue teaching her friendship lessons like she learned at the friendship school. Cozy Glow more or less became a fine mare as she got older, learning the lessons she was taught well, continuing her friendships with chrysalis and Tirek and rekindling old ones like with the CMC and her classmates. a few years years into Cozy Glows time living at the castle the war against darkness happened, a final all out battle of the elements of harmony versus the Force known as darkness that corrupted ponies and creatures alike into dark evil creatures. Cozy Glow had once let herself be influenced by the Darkness but was lucky to not get infected by it like many have. With her new Knowledge and skills she took to the fight, against the wishes of everyone around her she snuck out. taking her armor and skills she was taught about being a knight she arrived to the fight to help. she was there when the war ended when all the creatures of darkness were released from its influence and the entity 'defeated'. They all say defeated, they shot a big friendship laser and the darkness wasn't there when the smoke cleared. However Cozy Glow hadn't been so sure. She didn't say anything when it happened, everyone was so happy they had won. But when the smoke still spur thick in the area in the spot where the darkness was shot down, Cozy Glow swore she saw two blue eyes look right back at her before it seemed to disappear with the smoke in a gust. She decided it was a trick of her eyes, the fear and adrenaline from the fight getting to her. she chose to celebrate with everyone else. everyone was peaceful and normal for only a month, that's what Ordomia showed up. A small Alicorn filly, just about Cozy Glows Age maybe just a few years younger at most.a wonky horn, curly purple hair and those blue eyes. the way the silently looked at Cozy Glow gave her the shivers. No one knew where the could have come from, there had only been two recorded alicorn births in the past 1000 years and they had both been off springs of alicorns. Alicorns used to be made by the first but when she passed away an Alicorn could only be made from another alicorn once deemed worthy which could happen in many ways, but it just didn't seem possible for a filly as young as herself to be able to achieve alicorn status, nor did any of the current alicorn has anything to do with her. their was just no way to explain where she came from. Except, Cozy Glow might know. She kept her mouth shut, she didn't know how she would even say it or what it meant or if she was even right. it was a wild concept but, so was this alicorn. Cozy Glow believed that she came from the darkness. After test and study from twilight and the other she couldn't find anything saying the quite alicorn filly was dangerous, she didn't speak beyond nods and shakes, she didn't seem to know who she was or where she even was. the princesses allowed her to stay in the castle under watch for now. Cozy Glow was put on duty to watch over the young filly. She ended up being the first pony she spoke to, When Cozy Glow told her she was leaving her shift, asked the filly if she wanted anything. She got a reply, something she didn't expect. So she got her what she wanted, some water. They begun to talk, the alicorn again iterates she doesn't remember anything or where she came from. Cozy Glow tells her how she feels being in the castle, a new how you've never been to before. they talked forever, and by the end of his Cozy Glow decided she didn't think the alicorn was dangerous she just seemed scared and alone. they were friends and Cozy would stay by her side, and by her side she stayed as she became her official personal guard. They named her Ordomia, later earning the title of Princess as she showed great dedication to learning the responsibility of being an alicorn with her powers. being known for being able to change things, bring balance to them making sure everything ran smoothly. Its years of the two of them growing up side by side in the castle together with their aunts and growing family. Until the Queen Erroria Situation happened. Watching the mare she called her sister twist and change into that of a monster bent on destruction she questioned if she was wrong to have never said anything. now with ordomia back Cozy Glow has made a wall and kept her distance from Ordomia unsure if she can trust her again.

♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️♟️

Name: Ordomia Nickname(s): Queen Erroria Age: 25 (Maybe) Pronouns: She/her Identity: Bi Girl crush/relationship: Crush on Spike Parents: Adoptive Aunts Celestia and Luna Sibling: Cozy Glow Special Talent: Changing thing, physical objects, memories, ect Occupation: Princess, dignitary Location: Canterlot Likes: Helping, Purple, Stickers, cute band aids Dislikes: bright lights, flashing lights, crowds Bio: The Alicorn princess who appeared out of no where. thats what she had been known as across equestria, the young filly alicorn who appeared out of no where in cantorlot. She didn't have any memories to call her own, not a name or anything. she couldn't explain how she got there or why she was the way she was. she was poked and prodded by everyone and their mother trying to figure out what she was or her origins to no avail. Like she appeared out of thin air. And to be fair, she kind of did. Little no anyone, including herself's knowledge she was a vessel for what was left of Darkness. After the final big was of the elements versus Darkness's last surge of power to try and take over it was defeated. believed to have been blasted out of existence. No one saw the small wisp of darkness hurry off in the smoke. This strand of darkness coddled itself for awhile until it was strong enough, it took shape. Using all it had to turn itself into that of what appeared to be a young teenage alicorn filly, an irresistible target to bring right into the castle, and it worked. The filly had no idea that deep inside itself it harbored a evil, but she walked around for years with the princesses, their elements of harmony and many others who had been affected or have hurt the Darkness. It swelled and grew in power until it was suitable enough for a take over. The tragedy went down one night at a dinner for the family and many other important figure heads who could make it, they were celebrating a good year in equestria and the growing connections they were making with creatures and lands outside of equestria. it was a wonderful night, Ordomia sat beside her best friend and sister Cozy glow, Celestia to her other side who was giving a lovely speech. It was sudden, this weird obsession that suddenly came over Ordomia, like the twitch she gets when she needs to make this right, to fix it. Watching her Aunt Celestia stand tall next to her speaking proudly. Princess Twilight across the table with her kids looking up proudly at the Sun alicorn who was once her teacher. she couldn't stop thinking about how twilight didn't have her friends with her right now, family dinner, only a few ponies here. Cozy Glow asked her what was wrong noticing that her sister had grown terribly quiet, wide eyed not looking away from twilight. It took over the form of Princess Ordomia. The Darkness, it took her form and changed her. Luna who was all to familiar with what she was seeing yelled for everyone to run but it was too late, the walls were changing rapidly like slot machine images there wasn't any way to escape. Ordomias dark form emerged, Queen Erroria. a tall make out of darkness, corruption and a taste for revenge. She was no longer Ordomia, the soft spoken kind princesses was gone from her mind. after having her bad guy speech Queen Errora disappeared with all the alicorn princesses, young and old. Cozy Glow and Scroll flame were quick to act, looking for help. in cantorlot Splat and her friends and family where celebrating on their own as Happy Daze and Splats combined birthday party was happening. they asked if they would be able to get their parents, disocrd or anyone because they needed help they needed the elements or anything to stop Queen Erroria. They contacted their parents but many wouldn't be able to get their any time soon, far away at work or ect. as well as having to be honest and say, after the big war happened the elements left them, they no longer had control over then because with darkness gone the elements could rest again. Beside if twilight is missing how were they meant to use them anyways. this didn't stop the their kids and friend. Happy daze, Splat, Voyage, Bunny Hop, Majesty and Scroll flame went after Queen Erroria themselves along with Cozy Glow. When they confronted Erroria, a being made of darkness's obsession to get revenge on the princesses and elements was approached by Cozy Glow who tried to make her remember who she was and that she was hurting her family who she knew she loved. Watching Cozy Glow plead with Erroria, and Erroria showing signs of guilt in her face, Happy Daze also step forward to talk to Erroria. all of them reminding Erroria that this wasn't her, she was Ordomia the Princess who loved her family and worked hard to make sure everything was right and ok. she was their friend and a good princesses, this wasn't her, it was just a parasite clouding her mind. this lead to the Elements reawaken, claiming Happy Daze and her friends as the new elements and saving Ordomia. it removed all the darkness out of Ordomia, at the cost of setting it free back into the world. Ordomia is grateful for the help the Chapters of Now gave her, but tends to avoid them now they have moved into the castle. she feels awkward about begin evil and all. Also in honesty its been hard for her to get back into the swing of things, Cozy Glow might have been one of the ponies there for her when she was Erroria but she has been distant since they got back home. Avoiding spending time with her when she isn't on duty watching over her. Acting less like a protector and more as a guard waiting for her to take the wrong step. Princess Ordomia wants to work to patch up the bonds and trust she has broken with the ponies she cares about.

#mlp #next gen #cozy glow #princess ordomia #princess erroria

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight.

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away.

Like a coward.

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face.

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink.

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface.

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash.

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

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3d10fire-damage · 4 years

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red sun summary 7/2/2020

the party awoke in the aqueduct cave, fully rested. zoroe, in the night, had coiled gently around calypso, but didn’t want move to undo that before calypso woke up. as they were heading out, calypso mentioned that she had a weird dream involving a boa constrictor wrapping around her. zoroe was mildly flustered. in their further exploration, the party heard someone’s beautiful singing and discovered a pretty elf woman, bathed in the light from a driftglobe, putting together a flower crown. cluk approached, joining in the elf’s singing with her lute. it felt a little like the party was interrupting a private moment. the elf woman introduced herself as Feher, a druid. calypso commented that someone like Feher didn’t seem the type to be hanging out in such a place. Feher said that she was exploring the area, observing the plant life, and that she entered from the west. phosphorra asked where she was from, and Feher answered that she came from the far west. she came through a desert west of the Abban Serru/Parikh border, and that she didn’t stay because of the very aggressive creatures there. calypso understood what she meant.

Feher explained that there were “bad vibes” in this ruined city, that some sort of bad plant life originating from the east (though, she’s uncertain of their exact origins because roots run awfully deep). since the party said they were trying to take down the King’s troops and/or the bad plant life, Feher offered some potions of poison resistance to help them. Feher also grew a little flower for phosphorra, though phosphorra wondered if that flower was actually natural, since magic was used to grow it. the party then continued exploring the tunnels (which was some fuckery-- there were many questions about the water flow in the aqueduct and phosphorra clipped through a wall) before finding a series of bridges and halls guarded by skeletons. the skeletons didn’t react at all to the party’s approach, and the party could hear the sounds of three people arguing down a hallway. calypso not-so-stealthily went up to a door, passed another unresponsive skeleton, then waved the others on to follow her. one path led to a watch tower over a dried up river bed, and the other path led to the people in the middle of an argument. calypso saw that these people were wights, and told phosphorra to keep her pants on. phosphorra checked to see if her pants were falling, then called out a greeting and apology for interrupting.

the wights explained that the skeletons were their soldiers, and that their last orders, as city guards, were to find and destroy a rebel cell in the aqueduct. they were arguing about whether they should keep looking for the rebels and continue guarding this outpost, or if they should leave since everything is cleared out, mostly. the wights knew of Ku-aya but didn’t take orders from her, and they said they were alive at the same time she was, so... they’ve been dead for a long time. phosphorra said that there wasn’t anyone to rebel against, and one of the wights, Erishti, insisted that they need to know what happened to the rebel cell and then they could leave, freed from their last orders at that point. she wanted to search the aqueduct, but she didn’t want to be alone and the others weren’t giving her any of the skeletons. phosphorra suggested to the party that they go looking for some proof of the rebels in this area, and the party agreed.

heading back into the large room where they fought the oozes, cluk, with her eagle eyes, spotted a hidden door that led to a long-abandoned hideout. zoroe fought some gold and silver in the room, but other than that there were just very old fragments of supplies and dust. returning to the wights, Erishti relaxed at what the party reported to her, saying that she and the others could leave this place and go home. phosphorra told them that the world was very different now, and that maybe Ku-aya would be good company. she also... said that she herself could be good company, maybe at dinner or something. calypo nudged cluk like, “she’s flirting with the ghosts.” she also teased phosphorra to keep her pants on, again. as the party headed out of the aqueduct, calypso complained that she hadn’t punched anything in like 12 hours, and cluk offered to take a punch from her. upon taking said punch, she said it was refreshing. the party went back to the mining commission office and got the key from the tiefling Mistral, who kept saying things in French for some reason. she suggested that the party could use the aqueduct tunnels to sneak out since they run all over the city. she said that she and her associates used the tunnels sometimes to pester the King’s troops... with weapons. calypso and Mistral exchanged winks, and then it was “au revoir.” calypso asked zoroe what that meant, and was disappointed that it didn’t mean Mistral was coming on to her. zoroe asked to commission a map of the tunnels from Mistral, who took up the offer for 15 gold pieces. with the key now in their possession, the party set out for the mines.

upon approaching the entrance, the party noted a couple of watch towers, which appeared freshly built. hidden behind a pile of dug up rock, the party made a plan: cluk would cast Silence on the lone sentry outside and the party would take her out and go in, ideally without rousing much suspicion. zoroe mentioned that she would use the password: Inflict Wounds. calypso chimed in that the other password was her fists, to zoroe’s approval. cluk ran up to cast Silence and spotted two more guards past the first one, but the party still took a surprise round. zoroe cast Fire Ball and took out one of the guards. calypso, with Step of the Wind, rushed up and threw her javelin but missed. phosphorra, with her initiative of 0, finished off another guard with Fire Bolt. the party continued fighting the guards, though they didn’t notice that the guard in a watch tower had noticed the giant goddamn Fire Ball going off and ran down from the tower.

cluk dropped Silence so that the spellcasters could actually cast their spells. phosphorra kept doing surprisingly good damage with her cantrips, because her two burdens in life are being really cute and having incredible powers. her powers come from her cuteness. calypso ran up further into the entrance and saw numerous other cultists and a shadow creature. she caught an arrow out of the air... and then caught a few others with her body, looking a bit like a pin cushion. the cultists were in full defense mode, taking cover behind palisades. the shadow looked impatient as combat continued. cluk stepped up and said it was time to get loud, high fived calypso, and cast Shatter. phosphorra cast Fire Ball in the room, taking out several cultists and also hitting calypso. but calypso seemed to appreciate the spell, shivering a little. “yes!” “boom.” “YES!” zoroe used a radiant attack on the shadow, but it didn’t seem to take any damage. zoroe told calypso to look for an artifact like they found in the cultist hideout previously, and to destroy it.

at this point, several wisps emerged from the walls, attacking the party. calypso disengaged from the shadow to look for the artifact, leaving the combat behind momentarily. meanwhile, phosphorra attempted to protect herself with Sanctuary and zoroe healed cluk. the wisps started using some sort of cold breath attack. calypso, upon finding the artifact, ran up and punched the shit out of it. the shadow in the other room weakened. she also spotted several additional cultists in defense mode, along with another shadow creature and artifact. calypso shouted about this to the others, and zoroe called back that she should come back. calypso ran and hid in a corner, and meanwhile the wisp’s attacks continued. cluk, for like the fourth time (she had been trying to get the cultists to feel bad and stop attacking her), busted out sad puppy dog eyes, to get zoroe to heal her. phosphorra also dished out some healing, trying to maintain.

we then cut the combat short, and we will pick it up next week aaaaa

#red sun #dnd #GOTTA WATCH CR BYEEEE

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petalbrooke · 5 years

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Maeve notices something lurking in the graveyard - a hint of a footprint, a whisper of a shadow, and decides to investigate the monster. For @stardewevents Stardeween Day 5: Monster Sighting! Krobus is a DARLING child. thanks for reading! :)

It was nearly two in the morning, and while it wasn’t unusual for Maeve to be up that late, it was unusual that she was hanging out at the graveyard. She’d spent the last five nights here, trying to catch a glimpse of… something. She wasn’t sure yet what that something was, but she suspected it wasn’t human. The best salmonberries grew in that soil, bright red and juicy. She’d been gathering what she suspected would be the last harvest before the summer heat rolled in when she’d noticed a footprint. This wouldn’t have been that unusual – after all, she had noticed Abigail frequently hung out in the graveyard, and a few other denizens visited periodically, but this footprint couldn’t belong to them. It only had two toes.

Two long toes, almost as long as the foot itself. She could think of no creature in the forest that would make that kind of footprint, and she wanted to see for herself.

Maeve was poised perfectly still under a bush near the river, with an optimal view of the graveyard. Her dark purple hair was pulled back, and she’d dabbed mud into a rudimentary camouflage – though she hadn’t really needed it with her already dark skin and lack of light on the street. By now the Saloon had long since shut down, and even Lewis’ light had gone out, light sleeper that he was. It was just her and the crickets, the springtime frogs, the gently flowing river. It was almost enough to lull her to sleep.

Almost but for the sudden flit of a shadow in her periphery. Her survival instincts instantly had her on the alert. Within the second a knife was in her hand and she was in position to run.

She squatted there, motionless, thighs burning from the effort of holding her position, when the crack of a branch caught her attention. There. A crack couldn’t tell her much, but it was light – the creature likely wasn’t large. She was willing to hedge a bet that she could take the thing in a fight. Without a second thought she lunged for the approximate area she thought she’d heard the sound coming from, aiming to tackle. She tumbled through bush and slightly sticky mud from the rain earlier that day only to land on her face, having come in contact with nothing solid.

Maeve sprang back up, muttering a few curses as she did so. Nothing too serious, she thought to herself, noting that one scratch on her thigh was a little deep, but the bleeding would likely stop on its own. She could disinfect it back home. She strained her ears for more sounds, pushed her eyes to the limit trying to identify every miniscule shadow. There was nothing. She glanced at the moon, or what was left of it, shedding what bit of light it could. Almost three, at this point, and she had to admit she was starting to feel hopeless. Perhaps the woods were playing tricks on her. If she were home, she would blame her cousins of the night, who seemed to live only to torment others for their amusement.

But they couldn’t reach her here, and whatever did clearly wasn’t going to show herself. She began the long walk to the humble farmhouse she’d set up. One more night, she thought, one more night, and then I’ll give up.

The next night, Maeve had set out a basket of the salmonberries that she’d collected a few days earlier. They looked almost ready to burst, and just looking at them was making her hungry – none of her first crops had turned out that well, even with magic. She was learning, but the Valley Mother always knew best – which bushes needed more water, which ones needed squirrels to pick off the extra fruit. She planned on observing some of the wild blackberry bushes come summertime, really figure out how they thrived.

In any case, what wild creature could say no to a basket of fresh salmonberries? She’d set up closer, so she wouldn’t end up face-down in the mud again if she made her move. Now she had to wait.

This night the moon was gone, hidden away from prying eyes, and Maeve could barely see the outline of the basket, even if it was practically under her nose. One hour passed. Another. She could feel her eyes beginning to droop again, with nearly a week of sleeplessness starting to catch up with her. She blinked slowly once, twice, three times, and she noticed it – one of the berries was gone, and the basket was obscured in shadow.

Wide awake now and in hunting mode, she made the leap and reached for the figure. Again, her hands were met with nothing; the basket tumbled over, and she landed awkwardly next to it.

“Yoba, am I starting to see things?” she muttered. “Have I well and truly gone mad?” She shook her head, disgusted with herself. What an absolute waste of time, when she could’ve been collecting useful information. She could’ve been spying on Lewis. She could’ve been combing the mines. Instead she was out here, chasing wisps.

“Y-you’re not seeing things.” A little voice, to her left, shaking slightly. She froze. Was she imagining that too? “Can I trust you?”

Why not indulge her fantasy? At least then she would know what her brain had been conjuring. “Yes, little creature. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know what you are.”

Her hallucination didn’t answer, and she thought for a moment that even her mind was over her imagination, when she saw the small figure appear in front of her. Her original assessment hadn’t been wrong – it was a shadow figure, coming up to her hips, with the pronged foot that must have been responsible for the print. Maeve’s heart began to race. This was a shadow creature – a monster that had obliterated the dwarves and almost brought war to her people, long before she was born. She’d heard stories of the valiant fae who had managed to trick the shadow people, who had used light to turn the battle to their favor.

“My name is Krobus.” He wasn’t a particularly intimidating creature. In addition to the height, he had a curl on his head that could only be called cute. He didn’t look like a warmonger. But still, one could never be too cautious.

“I’m Maeve.” She smiled and offered a tentative finger. Krobus grasped it with both of his hands. “So, what are you doing out here, Krobus? And in the dead of night?”

“I can’t go out in the daylight. My shadow is very sensitive to the light. Only on really rainy days, and even then usually only in the winter. But at night I’m free to roam as I please. I kind of prefer it that way, anyways,” he said, ringing his hands together. The whole time he refused to look Maeve in the eye, instead preferring to focus intensely on the salmonberry in his hands. “People are big and scary. And they’re even scarier when they’re afraid of something they don’t know.” He sighed, a heavier sigh than something so small should have been able to create.

“I’m sorry.” Maeve scratched the back of Krobus’ head, and he hummed softly, crawling into her lap, similar to the cat Marnie had dumped on her. He was surprisingly warm, for something made of shadow. She sat back and looked at the stars, twinkling bright at them, almost laughing, and wondered how she could have thought this precious creature could have been a monster.

#stardeween #stardeween day 5 #krobus sdv #stardew valley #sdv fanfic #maeve mood #my fanfic

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dwollsadventures · 5 years

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coollegg... hard... need draw... cyute... -- Spooky lights flying around, attracting people's attention and getting them lost is among the most prevalent stories in the world. Assembled for Halloween is a few of them, far, far from all of them though. Generally thee lights are seen as either a supernatural being or the reincarnated soul of someone. Each of these beings and their origins will be discussed below:

The Will O' The Wisp is arguably the most popular (and cute), being found far and wide across the world. As such they are also the simplest and most easily recognizable, simply seen as a small flame in the darkness while their body is obscured. These babies come from the souls of those who died lost and alone, with their soul going to whatever Afterlife happens to suit them, and the rush of emotions (fear, anxiety, etc.) that clouded their soul as they died pool together to form a wisp. Because of this, wisps are not all that bright, wandering the paths they died on for eternity. One thing to remember about beings like them is that, even if they used to be apart of someone, every thing which made that person that person has passed on, leaving only a tiny ball of flame on legs. As is the case with all of these beings, their un-burning flames possess a charm about them which makes people feel lost and alone, causing them to follow the wisps around. Due to their simply natures, it's probably the wisps themselves don't actually know what they're doing is harmful.

Related to them is the Hinkypunk, a type of fairy from the moors of England and its colonies which hops about on one leg, with one arm. Like their little relatives they are descended from little boys and girls who died lost and alone, but are more defined and personable than the wisps. The reason for this is unknown, possibly having to relate to fairies. Some may be surprised to know that the line between the dead and the fey is so thin, but, both being spirits connected to a faraway Otherworld, they tend to get mixed up with one another, with spirits often turning into different fairies as their attitudes suit them.

Fairies in particular are caught up with leading people away with charming lights, as seen in the fairy fire (here held by a Welsh pwca), the hobby lantern (brandished by a hobgoblin), and the pixy light (held by a Cornish colt-pixy). All of these would be more accurately described as a pastime or prank than a true species, as many different types of beings partake in this. One of which being the Spunkie, where a fairy takes the form of a linkboy to lure people, where they make merry by leading people and ships astray.

Two other ghosts turned fey are the Lantern Men of Scandinavia and England and Jack of the Lantern. Lantern Men are among the more malicious spirits, a goblinish old man who wanders the bogs hoping for reprieve from his undead life, but just as likely to drag someone under the murky water. Similarly, Stingy Jack is forced to wander the world forever, stuck between the Land of the Living and the Otherworld. Unlike the Lantern Man Jack is a singular entity, one who carries a turnip lantern for safety from the many other spirits around at night. Of course not all ghosts transform into inhuman beings, some, like the Friar's Lantern, Aleya, and Hitodama live their lives as usual, but give off a ghostly flame due to some past event. Aleya are Bengali spirits, recognizable by their souls flickering in the sky above their ghosts (here shown as a boal fish). Hitodama are not even necessarily ghosts, simply the soul going out for a night's drive.

Brujas are a reincarnated spirit, though specifically one of a witch's, who flies around at night overlooking buried treasure, like the lambent light of Northern Europe. Unlike the brujas though, lambent lights are not related to the dead or the fairies, they are simply a supernatural phenomena. Lambent lights are linked to both buried treasure and the homes of other beings, like the vaettir, draugr, and the firedrake. Related to the German house drak, the firedrake is a wild being, one who sleeps in its hole during the night and searches for prey and wealth during the night. Lambent light sometimes reveals their homes, as well as their fiery scales, which they cloak themselves in to signal to other drakes their territory. When entering their home, firedrakes will resort to all sorts of tricks and illusions to keep intruders out, even placing curses, such as being unable to dig buried treasure while laughing, or speaking. Firedrakes are also said to sometimes result from the spiritual residue of greedy souls after death.

Luz mala, or evil lights, are another abiotic light, from Northern Argentina and Uruguay. These malicious fires are said to cause burns if touched.

The boi-tatá of Brazil is neither a ghost nor a fairy, but a native spirit descended from a cave anaconda who, after a great flood, ate all the eyes of the corpses left over, gaining a fiery gaze. Unfortunately this gaze leaves them blind during the day, but at night they race across the forest looking for food with their all-seeing eyes.

Finally, the ignis fatuus, or fool's fire. These creatures (related to the stray sod) are aptly named, as they are created by fairies as a means of home security, causing people to become lost. Some folk try and follow them, thinking them to be lambent lights and therefore indicators of treasure. Once morning comes, they find themselves with nothing but a hole and a rather shiny insect.

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theravenshade · 4 years

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Of Life and Death

Hi! I'm Raven! This is my first writing that I'm posting on here, and I'm really happy with it! I'd like to expand on the little universe I've created here and I really hope you like it!

Beginning of Life

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

Nobunaga walked the world with Anastasia. The highbeing of Earth gushed animatedly over her work, quite proud and eager to show it off to the highbeing of Conquest. While she showed off anything from vast oceans and steep mountains to quaint fields and mysterious forests, Nobunaga simply observed with a keen eye. She had done well, but the world had yet to replicate his vision.

"-llo? Nobunaga?" Anastasia waved her hands before his crimson gaze. They had stopped in a rather beautiful spot, a secluded clearing at the base of a mountain. It was rich in greenery, and the sound of trickling water could be heard from a small waterfall at it's very edge. There were a few flowers dusted about. It wasn't an even sprinkling in any set location, but a clump of hydrangeas did seem to favor the outskirts near the shade. Tall, sturdy trees outlined the hidden oasis with bracken sprinkled throughout. Some of the rocks near the mountain glistened with water and others were home to moss and vine, creeping around to find a comfortable home.

"You have done well, Anastasia." Nobunaga smiled, tilting his head. Anastasia gaped at him, she certainly hadn't expected him to praise her. While she was proud of her work, Nobunaga's face gave off no emotion and it had unsettled her. "Oh uh-" she sputtered. "Well, I put particular effort into this one spot." Nobunaga nodded, once more glancing about the whimsical glade. "I can tell. And this place shall be the birth of Life itself."

Anastasia blinked at Nobunaga as he strode past her and walked until the water reached his waist. What was happening? Confusion swept through her being and she took a step forward, now hyperaware of the abundance, and at the same time lack, of life around her. Of the lush grass underneath her feet, the earthy scent of soil and the swaying of leaves in the wind. What was Nobunaga doing?

Anastasia took another step, planning to get closer when a bright light flared up. She gasped and stumbled backwards, throwing a hand over her eyes in shock. She held it there for a moment in order to adjust to the sudden intrusion into her pupils before slowly lowering it. His hand seemed to glow with the force of fire and something in the water responded in kind. Thrusting his hand into the water, Conquest began to walk backwards, leading from the water the figure of a woman who seemed to glow.

She was beautiful, a small wisp of a woman with hair reminiscent of the sun. She was tan, warm, eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day, and naked. She was completely naked. Like, super naked. Naked as the day a babe is born, in a way she was.

Anastasia quickly covered her eyes to respect the new Highbeing's privacy, and the new young woman flushed brightly once she realized her own nakedness. Nobunaga waved a hand in her direction and attractive robes materialized over her form.

He went to stand beside Anastasia, admiring the new Highbeing who grabbed fistfulls of her clothing in both curiosity and fear. "Welcome to earth, Rome. Bringer of Life."

Beginning of Death

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

Conquest, Earth, and Life were by themselves for not more than a week before the first two realized that there was a problem. Rome loved her job. Loved her job. She loved it to the point that there were far too many creatures roaming about for the time being, and Anastasia wasn't near finished with her job yet. But there wasn't quite a way to get rid of them. They only multiplied and their numbers never dwindled, Rome could not bear to senselessly part with her creations as she was prone to her emotions and had a rather large heart. Due to this, Nobunaga struggled with his next decision, as neither he nor Anastasia wished to harm the princess in any way.

One day, Nobunaga went to visit Rome and see what else she had come up with. While her frequent creations were currently causing a problem, they were rather interesting. Before he had the chance to properly look for her, she had already found him. "Oh! Nobunaga!" Rome chirped. "There you are! Look at who I made!" She grinned brightly, darting up close and holding out her hands. In them, a quartet of small fuzzy creatures remained still other than the occasional twitching of a round ear or long tail. Nobunaga studied them. Though he would never ever admit it, they were rather cute and reminded him of Rome. He tilted his head when an idea began to take shape.

"And what do you call them?" He brought a finger up to pet them and they wiggled closer. "These are mice." Her eyes glowed, pleased. "I would like to give them to you as a gift." This was no surprise and he should expect nothing less, as Rome had frequently sought Anastasia and himself out in order to gift them a new creature. Her eyes earnestly sought his and any sort of reaction. His face remained still, except for a small smile which never gave anything away much to Anastasia and Rome's distress. "I will take one, any instructions?" His deep voice rumbled as the idea continued to bloom and take shape within his mind. "Just keep it away from the foxes!" Rome smiled before kneeling, and letting them scamper from her palms and into the grass. "No matter what I do, the foxes always seem too fond of chasing them. I'm afraid they'll eat them up!" Nobunaga continued to smile, quite pleased with what he would soon do.

---

Nobunaga excused himself from Rome's company and traveled up the mountain by her birthplace. He climbed up to the water source which fed into her waterfall and walked forward. There was a cave in which a white fox had crafted his den. Nobunaga held the mouse in his hands, looking down at the little thing. She blinked, but lay very still as he closed his hands. His hands grew colder than ice, so cold that if anyone touched them they would not be able to recognize any sign of life. Despite this, the mouse remained unharmed. He kneeled and let go of the small animal, watching as she ran straight for the cave.

He waited. The sun dipped low in the sky, day turned to night, and when feeling a shift of power, Nobunaga stood ready to leave. He strode to the path that would take him back down to earth and looked back. Two pale, golden glowing eyes were peering at him from the dark cave.

When Life met Death

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The world was dark and Rome had retreated to her clearing for the night. She strung up her hair in a ponytail with a ribbon and began to disrobe to bathe in a nearby hotspring. She knew that Nobunaga and Anastasia would be nowhere nearby, so she could avoid what happened when she was first born. Honestly, a traumatizing experience. Golden eyes followed her form from the shadows.

Rome lowered herself into the warm water and relaxed a moment, humming to herself. She enjoyed quiet moments like these, but had often wondered what it might be like to not be alone as often as she was. It didn't feel right, Anastasia got to work closely with Nobunaga and vice versa. It wasn't fair to be this lonely. This train of thought always upset her, it was as if there was a part of her that was missing. That something was wrong, and the feeling was only amplified by the chill she felt in the air. It was almost electric, and it grew steadily stronger. It made the warmth in her blood respond in kind and call out. Rome sat up and turned around. Blue eyes met Yellow.

She was only startled a moment before relaxing. Those were the eyes of a fox, one of her fondest creations. Rome turned around and leaned on the edge of the spring, holding out her hand and cooing softly to the creature. But what came forward was no animal. Her eyes widened as a tall man with hair of white stalked slowly forward, a foxlike grin on his handsome face. "Well well, what little mouse waits for me here?" She screamed.

---

Rome stalked into Azuchi castle, the stranger following behind with a smug smile seemingly permanently stuck on his face. Anastasia looked up from pouring sake for Nobunaga, quite alarmed. First at the frazzled expression Rome bore since she was not one to be seen without a smile, and second at the mysterious man following behind her. Rome had gotten to creating people? No, not yet. This man was no mortal. Anyone could feel it.

Nobunaga sipped the sake to hide a smile. "Welcome, Rome. You're usually not one for staying in the castle, what brings you to us this evening?" His eyes glimmered, more than suggesting that he knew exactly why. "This-this is a stranger!" Rome spat out, the epitome of stress. "Who is he? Where did he come from! I know I didn't make him! Not only that, but he was watching me while I bathed!" Her words came rapid fire, but Nobunaga was prepared for each and every one of them.

"Rome, Bringer of Life, meet Mitsuhide. Your jobs are quite important and you both shall be working with one another from here on out. He came from your creations, the fox and the mouse." Nobunaga finished his sake before pouring more for all of them. "Come sit, the both of you."

Mitsuhide took a seat, grabbing the cup and bringing it to his lips for a long sip. He had made himself right at home with zero signs of discomfort. Oh this was good, he'd have to get some more of this. He mused silently to himself. Rome followed, albeit more hesitantly, and sat far away from the newcomer. "How will we work together? He is far too cold for creating life." Rome frowned, genuinely confused as to what Nobunaga was thinking. "Not life, princess." Mitsuhide spoke up and the glowing, translucent form of a mouse appeared upon his shoulder. The mouse sent by Nobunaga. "You took her...?" Rome breathed out, chest aching. "No, princess. She was given as a gift." Mitsuhide watched the form of the mouse wander to Rome before vanishing in a fine mist.

The ache in Rome's heart lessened, but she was still wary about working with him and Nobunaga could tell. He hummed, deep in his chest. "I'm afraid you can not get out of working with Mitsuhide, Rome. You must always be able to find each other. I'm afraid I must put in place a preventative measure." Rome seemed to deflate. Mitsuhide was only more entertained. Anastasia was confused. Nobunaga was doing everything he could not to laugh.

---

Rome trailed after Mitsuhide, feet dragging along the ground as they left castle grounds. She stopped walking. Her eyes were stuck to the red thread tied around her finger that led to him. They were stuck together. It wouldn't break, nor would it expand more than roughly 20 feet. Preventative measure... how in the world was that a preventative measure!? A soft sigh escaped her lips. Okay, so Nobunaga must've known she would've tried to avoid him no matter what.

Mitsuhide turned to face Rome, the tugging on the string indicating that she had stopped. "Why, little mouse, whatever could be the matter?" He asked, slinking over, walking until he stood directly in front of her. "Surely working with me isn't the reason for the dismay plastered all over that pretty face?" He rumbled softly, bringing up a finger to stroke her cheek. Rome subconsciously leaned into his touch. She marvelled at how warm his skin was despite the chill that surrounded him before wrenching herself away. What was she doing? What had gotten into her? The feeling that bloomed theough her chest frightened her and she didn't recognize it. It was strong, and it scared her.

"I just.." Rome trailed off quietly. "Why would you take her?" She murmured, looking down at her bare feet. "I didn't simply take her. She was given as a gift." Mitsuhide replied, observant eyes watching her. "Not from Nobunaga, but from you, Rome. And I will cherish every gift sent from you from here on out." With those words, the ache in Rome's chest finally disappeared.

Life looked up to meet the eyes of Death and knew that everything would be okay. Death looked into the eyes of Life and knew that she was his future.

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