#THIS IS ALL I NEED TO SURVIVE THE WINTER IM SET FOR LIFE THANK YOU FOR FEEDING ME THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YJEH2 KSURBOQNIAJWL

[baroquebucky]

touch

soulmate au where when you touch your soulmate you see glimpses of your future with them; the winter soldier touches you and realizes there’s so much more out there

series masterlist // next

part one

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u all enjoy this !! i am a sucker for soulmate au’s <3 let me know what u guys think and if u guys want a part 2 !!!

Bucky awoke to the sound of the guards unlocking the door, the metal creaking as Alexander Pierce walked in, waving the guards off to leave the two alone.

“you have another mission today” the man spoke smoothly, bucky getting up from his small bed and staring at the man infront of him, “you need to finish this before it gets out of hand” pierce spoke, eyeing the soldier as he stared blankly ahead.

“Do you understand?” He questioned, bucky looked at him, nodding his head silently as the guards took him out, taking him to get ready for his mission.

He had stopped resisting, he had nothing left, he couldn’t remember much and he had no idea who he even was. Bucky followed the motions, suiting up and grabbing his weapons alongside the other HYDRA agents.

You frowned at steve and natasha, grumbling to yourself as Sam let you into the house.

“im y/n, sorry about these two” you smiled at the man, extending your hand out and turning to your two friends.

“thank you for coming y/n, we really need you” Steve spoke, natasha nodding in agreement as she dried her hair slowly.

“yeah, yeah everyone always needs me” you joked, sitting next to them and rubbing your eyes, “woke me up from my nap so this better be good” you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back.

Steve and natasha explained the situation, telling you what they knew about the winter soldier, you soaked in the information, attempting to google him but coming up with almost nothing.

“hm, so you want me to do what, exactly” you questioned, looking at the trio staring back at you.

“fight with us, help us, we have to stop HYDRA” Steve spoke, looking at natasha before continuing, “i don’t know who to trust and” he sighed, “we know we can trust you, are you in?”

You smiled, getting up and pulling the three in for a hug, sams eyes going wide.

“of course I’m in, i care about you guys too much to let you die alone” you chuckled, pulling away, looking at Sam before speaking up, “no ones dying by the way, right?”

The four of you were on the rooftop, getting information out of Sitwell, laughing when natasha kicked him off.

“What about that girl from accounting, Laura?” Natasha spoke, looking at Steve as he thought about the woman’s name.

“Lillian! Lip piercing right?” Natasha nodded and Steve shook his head.

“yeah I’m not ready for that” you laughed at the two lightly.

“you should get with the time have a little fun!” You teased, Natasha smiling as you sided with her, nodding her head excitedly.

As Sam brought Sitwell back you began the interrogation, threatening to throw the man off for good is he didn’t start talking. Your eyes were steely and they let you handle him, getting all the information you needed.

“i didn’t know you could be so-” sam stopped, trying to find the right words.

“evil?” Natasha offered.

“terrifying?” Steve chuckled and Sam nodded.

“Insight launched in 16 hours” you spoke up, checking your phone, Natasha nodded speaking up after you, “we’re cutting it kinda close here.”

Steve looked ahead with furrowed brows nodding his head, “well use him to bypass the DNA scans and bypass the helicarriers directly.”

Sitwell scoffed next to you, blabbering on about you something, you rolled your eyes, going to say something when someone reached through the window and threw him out, your eyes going wide.

“what the fuck!” You screeched, looking up and seeing who you assumed was the winter soldier.

Your eyes were wide as you stared out the windshield, a tug in your chest as you saw him sliding across the concrete, steadying himself with his metal arm.

Natasha pulled her gun out, aiming at the man. A car rear ended you, pushing you forward and knocking your wind out. The soldier jumped atop the car, holding on tight as the truck behind you pushed you all foward.

Sam pressed on the breaks, trying to steer away from the other cars. A metal hand reached through the windshield and tore the steering wheel out from his grasp.

“shit!” Sam yelled, eyes wide as the car drove into another, Natasha reaching her gun and shooting in hopes of hitting the masked man.

Steve grabbed onto the three in the front, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“go!” You yelled, scrambling to open the door before the car crashed into the wall.

“hang on!” Steve called, jumping out, with you bracing yourself for the impact seconds after, you flew out the door, hitting the ground with a thud.

You ran to join natasha and Sam, ducking behind cars to avoid the bullets, finally pulling out your pocket knife and hitting one of the men in the chest, running again as they shot at you three even more.

You and natasha jumped down, holding onto her as she shot something under the bridge to swing from.

The two of you landed safely, you pointed to the shadow of the solider, running alongside her to shoot at the man.

You both aimed and fired, hitting his giggled and causing him to turn back. You let out a sigh, hoping they would give you a minute to recover. You both ran for cover as he leaned back over, machine gun in hand and shooting wildly.

“fucks sake” you let out, breathless as you aimed to shoot back at him, running for cover once again, hiding behind the parked cars. Your eyes focusing on the bus steve had fallen into, relief flooding your body when you saw him jumping out and hiding behind the shield safely, eyes moving to the highway and seeing Sam shooting from above.

“I’m gonna leave this recording here, ill sneak up behind him and then you try and get him, we can double team him” Natasha spoke, you nodded, letting her record the memo before setting it down and running.

Your heart raced as you saw the soldier approach the vehicle, waiting for the right moment to strike. As Natasha ran to tackle him from behind you noticed the amount of people still around you, the explosion next to you sending people flying.

“shit” you mumbled, running to help them as Natasha held her own.

“get out of the way! Run! Get out of here” you yelled, pointing at those in frenzy to run in the opposite direction, you glanced over your shoulder, Natasha being thrown into a car.

As you turned to help her you noticed a little girl crying, alone. You debated for a second before running up to her, taking her in your arms and handing her off to some random adult who was fleeing.

Natasha had messed the man arm up, joining her in her sprint as you all yelled for people to move and to take cover. You heard the whirl of a bullet and natasha groan, doubling over next to a car.

“take of her!” Steve yelled, holding off the soldier. You let eyes were wide, putting pressure on Natasha wound and looking around.

“you’re gonna be fine” you told her, looking into the car and breaking the window with your elbow, opening the compartment in the passengers seat and smiling when you found a first aid kit.

“come on” you mumbled, moving her gently and cleaning the wound, doing your best with what little you had. You tried to bandage her, the sound of the bullets hitting Steve’s shield making your hands shake.

“go help them, I’ll be fine” Natasha groaned out, you hesitated before nodding, running to where Steve was.

You hid behind a car, watching as he shoved a knife into a van, barely missing Steve’s head.

You jumped from behind the car as Steve reached to grab his shield, hitting the metal armed man, you used your body weight to twist him back.

Visions flashed in your eyes, quick flashes of a man with a charming smile and beautiful blue eyes. The sound of laughter echoing in your ears as the mask fell besides you. You saw the two of you cuddled up on a couch, you saw two two of you watching a sunset while on a picnic, giggles falling from your mouth.

Bucky saw it too, his mind flashing with pictures of a life he didn’t recognize, seeing you, his mission in them. He saw you cuddled at his side, he saw you on a stage together singing with lyrics on a screen, he saw the two of you rescuing a white cat from the rain. Bucky saw you holding out a present for him, a bright smile on you face, he saw you throwing flour at him in a kitchen, cookies baking in an over.

He stayed on the ground, memories who he used to be flooding his mind, hope of who he could become clouding his judgement.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he looked up at you, standing in front of Steve with an equally shocked look on your face.

“it’s you” you breathed out, your heart tugging in your chest as your eyes met his blue ones, they were cloudy and they were broken but god, you already loved them.

“it’s you” he whispered. A year rolling down his face before HYDRA agents surrounded you all.

“Bucky?” Steve spoke, finally getting a good look at the man.

The super soldier stayed quiet, panic in his eyes and he looked at you, setting his weapon down. You made a move to run to him, but Sam flew in, knocking him feet away from you, Natasha soon launching a grenade.

“no!” You screamed, running to where he was. He was gone.

“No! Please i just found him no!” You cried, sinking to you knees, Sam ran over to you, holding you tightly as you sobbed, agents surrounding the four of you and telling you all to get down on your knees.

You sobbed into sams chest, only leaving his embrace when the agents ripped you from him.

Buckys eyes were wide as he sat in the chair, his heart racing as he recalled your face, your hair. He recalled the flashes he saw, his future with you.

He had something to hold onto, he had something to fight for, someone to survive for. He thought about the man who was next to you, he was familiar, he was in his old memories.

Buckys mind raced, knowing they would wipe his memories, he soaked in every last detail, praying he could hold onto to what he had after they wiped him.

He could hold onto you, his hope.

[gureishi]

Zen X Lea 

For @im-the-mystic-messenger’s holiday gift exchange. I screamed when I saw my match, because I love Lea more than life itself. I’m always honored to enter into the sweet world of my beautiful friend and her lovely man. Merry early Christmas, @quirky-and-kind​, my darling. Thank you dear, brilliant Lodi for putting together this beautiful event!

It’s just dark enough outside to see lights going on in the windows of the apartment building across the street. There’s a flurry of snow piled high against the bedroom window; Zen lays a hand on the glass and is delighted to find that it’s icy and crisp. He loves the way the air outside seems to sing for him: it’s the feeling of anticipation he always associates with holidays.

This year is different, though—entirely unlike any of his previous lonely, longing winters.

Zen pushes open the bedroom door and crosses to the main room on light feet, expecting to find Lea perched on the couch—probably checking the weather or how long it’ll take for them to get where they’re going or something else he never remembers to do. It’s always her who’s ready first.

But no: Lea sits in the middle of the living room floor, skirt pooling around her in a puddle of gauze, half-empty rolls of wrapping paper and bows scattered across her lap. She’s focused, gaze trained on the box in her hands, perfect fingers making a neat crease in the shiny wrapping paper.

“Not ready yet, angel?” Zen stands in the doorway and Lea looks up, pretty eyes widening. After all this time, he should be used to the way she looks at him—but heat still pools in the pit of his stomach whenever she smiles.

“You look perfect,” she tells him. He tosses his hair and positions himself under the brightest part of the golden overhead light, needing to linger a moment longer in the warmth of her appreciation. Once upon a time, he made himself beautiful because it was the only way he knew how to survive; now, he finds that the world’s admiration means less and less to him every day.

If Lea looks at him with love, the stars shine brighter. Her affection means more than any fantasy of fame and fortune.

She’s still watching him. Her eyes sparkle.

“You look like a knight in shining armor,” she says. “As always.” She sets down the gift—perfectly-wrapped—and beams at him.

“A Christmas knight?” Zen goes to her, pulling a cushion from the couch and sinking to the floor by her side. There’s a pile of presents wrapped in pink paper next to her, a glittering bow placed on the very top of each one.

Lea laughs. “What’s the difference between a Christmas knight and a regular one?”

Zen leans in to brush her shoulder with his lips and she shivers almost imperceptibly, just like he hoped she would.

“A Christmas knight helps his princess prepare presents for her loyal subjects,” he croons, lifting the bag of bows. Lea arches her eyebrows—and she’d never say you aren’t helping, but the expression gives her away. Zen grins and dips his head to kiss both of her wrists. “What, this isn’t helpful?”

Lea touches his cheek. She’s so gentle it makes his heart ache.

“You’re always helpful, darling.” She turns her gaze back to the unwrapped gifts at her side—two left now—and Zen wraps both arms around her waist, tugging her flush against his body.

“Have I told you yet how beautiful you look, cherub?” he whispers. She shivers again and he parts her hair to kiss the back of her neck. “So pretty I almost don’t want to let you leave this house.”

Zen knows how to stir her imagination—he’s an expert. He expects her to twist in his arms—to tilt her face so she’s looking in his eyes—to lay a hand on his chest and call him lovely.

But Lea doesn’t turn. She’s reaching forward, rolling out wrapping paper with swift, steady gestures—and for the first time, Zen notices her energy is unsteady.

He doesn’t know how he missed it till now.

“Princess,” he says—slowly, not sure where he’s headed. “Look at me?” “Just a minute,” she mutters—oh, and it’s there in her voice too: a sense of unease, or a hint of hurry. “Let me finish first.”

Zen knows her better than the beating of his heart—feels all his own insecurities and hesitations when he holds her close.

“Lea,” he says—her name instead of a term of endearment, so she knows he’s serious. “Please?”

She goes stiff for a split second and then she’s spinning in his arms; he lifts the fluid fabric of her skirt so her legs are draped across his thighs. It’s hard to see straight when she’s in his lap like this: small and delicate and sweet and soft. He kisses the tip of her nose.

“You’re glad we’re getting together with everyone tonight,” he says, pulling a single curl from her hair and coiling it round his fingertip. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” She sounds serious, and he knows she means it: celebrating with their found family means at least as much to her as it does to him.

But the apartment smells like cinnamon and cloves and there’s snow on the roof and Lea is wrapping gifts with a fervor Zen recognizes. He has adored her ardent desire to make people feel loved since the first day he met her—now, though, he sees how easy it is for her to lose herself in her own altruism.

“You do everything for everyone,” he whispers, taking the half-wrapped gift from her fingers, lifting her hand to his lips. “Let me do everything for you.”

Lea stares up at him, and he finds her so hopelessly kissable he can hardly contain himself. 

“I like giving people gifts,” she says. He tilts her chin up and she lets him, melting into his touch like just-fallen snow.

Zen already knows that Lea would do anything for the people she loves—that she sees the holidays as another excuse to make everyone smile.

For him, holidays are all about her.

“Of course you do, darling girl.” He traces her jaw with a finger and she goes pink (oh, he hopes that even after an eternity, she’ll keep on blushing for him). “You’re an angel, and I’m just a selfish man who loves you.”

“What’s so selfish about you?” she asks (though he’s sure she already knows).

“Because you want to wrap everyone’s gifts up neatly and I just want you to kiss me.” It’s a lie, and it’s also the truth—he wants to be kissed by her every bit as much as he always does; he needs her to hold him instead of working to make the world feel good.

“If I’m kissing you,” she murmurs, giggling, “who will wrap the rest of these gifts?”

Zen tosses his hair and beams down at her.

“Aha,” he crows, delighted. “Didn’t I tell you that I’m the Christmas knight?”

Lea lifts her pretty eyebrows again, and Zen is glad to see her teasing him rather than protesting.

“Will you do a good job?” she asks, laughing a little at his insistence. He is already adjusting her in his lap, reaching around her small body to lift the sheet of wrapping paper she’s already cut from the roll. 

“Don’t I always?” Zen sets the box in the center of the wrapping paper and feels Lea watching his hands. He knows it’s important for her that it’s perfect—that everything’s just right—that she’s filled the universe with as much warmth as she can muster.

The only person Zen needs to see smiling is the angel perched delicately on his lap. He’ll make her sit back and be held if it’s the death of him.

And it’s a sort of death, having her lips on his skin. She twists in his arms and covers his jaw in feather-light kisses, just like he asked her to. He wonders if she sees the way she makes his hands shake. 

“How am I doing, princess?” He tapes the paper closed and sets one of the sparkly silver bows on top. Lea pauses to admire his handiwork, and then her arms are around his neck.

“Beautiful,” she whispers in his ear, “just like you.”

Zen used to dream of Christmas.

When he was alone, he’d imagine holding hands in a snowstorm and sharing a single scarf, cuddling under thick blankets when it’s cold and dancing beside a glittering tree. But Lea wasn’t like him in this way: she didn’t wait all year for twinkling lights and snowflakes on her tongue. The holidays didn’t remind her of bodies pressed together and laughter that shimmers in the air long after it’s stopped making a sound.

None of Zen’s fantasies matter to him so much as the small, warm person he holds in his arms. He could spend Christmas anywhere in the world as long as she’s with him—wouldn’t change a second of his long lonely life, because all the darkness has led him to Lea.

“You’ve changed everything,” he says, so soft he isn’t sure she can hear. But she hears (she always does), and she takes his face in both of her hands, gazing at him with the brightness of someone who knows how fervently she’s loved.

She is the strongest person Zen has ever known, but even strong princesses need a knight to remind them they matter the most.

“Thanks for holding me,” she says, which really means thank you for making me the center of your world.

Zen smiles: cinnamon eyes, tinsel heart.

“No, angel,” he whispers, holder her closer. “Thank you for letting me.”

It’s not the holiday making the air outside shimmer with promise. It’s her (it’s always been her).

[kuronanox]

Home is you - Ulquiorra Schiffer

"Hello? Hello~" (Your Name) sings shaking the pale man up from his sleep.

Opening his eyes slowly he blinked a few times looking at his surroundings. "Where am I? Why aren't I in los noches?"

"Jeez you creep! Don't go sleeping around the park like that! I know Japan is safe but I thought you were dead for a second." She says sighing in relief offering a hand.

Ulquiorra slaps her hand away and gets up realizing he wasn't in his uniform but some random t shirt and jeans.

"What have you done women?"

"Me?! I woke you up. That's what I did now, do you have someone you should be? It's getting late."

Looking around he couldn't sense any reistu, he couldn't bring his sword out or use cero. Till he remembered his fight with Ichigo. Ulquiorra remember dissolving into nothing.

"I-I don't understand." He stuttered, frustrated at the emotions he was feeling at the moment. He was lost, why was he here? Was he reborn a human? But why did he remember everything of his past life. 

A salty tear slipped in his lips as he touched his face confused. "Is this the human emotion of feeling frustrated? Feeling hopeless? Powerless?"

"I'm sorry. Do you need a place to stay?" (Your Name) asks more sympathetically watching the man breakdown in front of her.

The walk to a capsule hotel was quiet, she was surprise he asked for help. "I paid for you. I hope you find your way after tonight." She tells him as he looks into nothing and says nothing before taking his leave.

(Your Name) watches his back and sighs. "Maybe he's homeless?"

Ulquiorra laid in the comfy bed lost in thoughts, what had happen to the war? To Ichigo? To Aizen?

Why did he have to be reincarnated as a weak human?

"So this is human emotions?" He says out loud looking at himself in the mirror. He examined his face, was he always this pale and fragile looking?

Pissed he hit the capsule and nothing broke.

He was weak now, weak in mind and powerless.

He didn't know how he was going to survive.

It had been a few days and (Your Name) walked around trying to find the man. She felt a attraction towards him, like she was suppose to help him. She had no luck the past few days trying to find him.

"You have to pay for that thief!" A sales man yelled shoving Ulquiorra out his store.

"I'll kill you stupid human." He says in a monotone voice and raised his finger to use cero but nothing came out.

"You need help man!" The sales man yelled walking away in disbelief as Ulquiorra stared at his finger.

(Your Name) sighed in relief and ran towards him. "Hey! It's you again. What are you doing?"

"Trying to survive." He plainly says walking away still wearing the same clothes she saw him in the day they met.

"How do you plan on surviving with no job?" She asks following him as he walked to random places and examining people. "You will help me find one."

"Me?!"

"As you can tell women I'm not like you humans."

Bewildered a bit she pinched her nose bridge and sighed. "That's what I get for helping a weirdo."

"What do I get if I help you?"

"My protection." He simply says, even though his powers were gone he still was skilled with hand to hand compact.

"Just don't do anything stupid." She says as he follows her.

It was a very interesting few months that passed by, she never understood a lot of things Ulquiorra did.

He lacked a lot of empathy and emotions. He questioned what people did and enjoyed examining strangers on the street. He didn't speak much either.

He also became her protector.

"What is this manga that people are so crazy about?" He asks her one day as they sat and ate breakfast.

"As an manga artist and author it's my job to make my books into a reality. It gives people a sense of escape of our miserable lives." She says shooing him away from her work.

"Humans are weird." He simply says watching the news as she rolled her eyes.

"You know you're a human too?" She states to him and sighs.

"I am now."

There was a silence as she looked at him. He was a bit odd at first. She had to teach how to read, write and proper manners. She never questioned him though.

"So what were you before then?"

"Espada. I was an Espada."

"Huh a what?" She asks a bit taken back and lost.

"I don't know how to be thankful." He then says changing the subject as she sits across from him.

His eyes were green and he did have weird green marks on his face. "I'm starting to believe this guy."

"It's okay. I understand." She tells him as he looks at her with no smile or anything. His face was blank, she couldn't read him.

She knew he was thankful when he learned how to pick up humanity. He would pick up food for them, clean the house and when the rare opportunity comes he would beat up any stalker fans she had.

"I don't know who you were before but I promise you I'm here to help."

It was a cold winter night as they came back from Christmas shopping and picking her up from work, Ulquiorra was holding the bags as she rambled on how work went that day.

Ulquiorra wouldn't admit it but he had grown fond of her after spending everyday together. At first he has no choice to. He had no money or no home but she provided everything for him.

He would find himself smiling softly but frown after realizing what he had done.

"How was your day?" She asks him with a smile as his eyes widen a bit.

"I read books." He answered as she nodded her head.

Ulquiorra never really left the house unless he needed to. She had to admit it was comforting coming home to someone every night.

"I bought you new ones. I hope you like that."

"I enjoy all the books you've bought me." He says looking forwards at the snowing street.

She gasp a bit as he looked a way a bit confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No I'm just happy. Happy your expressing your emotions more."

He didn't say anything afterwards as she entered the warm house and set the gifts under the tree.

"I'm going to get some rest." He says and leaves to his room.

Before she could ask if he ate she saw that he had food already made for her.

"He sure is a fast learner for not being human."

Ulquiorra escaped to his room and laid in bed. He really was growing emotions, the more he stayed here the more he felt every emotions.

The emotions of pain, loneliness, sadness.

Recently he didn't feel any of those he felt happy, safe, secure. Was this the human way of saying he was satisfied of his life right now.

He didn't know but he felt a comfort of having someone by him at times. Unlike los noches, he was alone and don't know how to talk to people.

(Your Name) gave him a sense of living again and he would try to fit in this world. There was no way he could change the past so he decided might as well live for the future.

It was weird for Ulquiorra to have these thoughts, it was a new thing to him.

Before he lived for nothing but killing.

"What did you do before becoming human?" She asks him one night as they watched a movie. Well she had to force him to watch it.

"Kill."

"Okay? More explanation."

"I was created to kill, that was my only purpose in life. My home had nothing but sand and a moon."

"What did you eat?"

"My people."

She wanted to not believe him but every word he said were straightforward and he never blinked once. He didn't tell lies to her. "Interesting. So what happen? Did you get eaten or die?"

"I lost in a battle and disappeared into dust and I woke up here."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" He asks curiously a bit taken back from her words.

"I don't know you don't seem happy here."

He blinked a few times and tried his best to smile but it didn't come along. "I am satisfied as you humans say."

She sighed in relief and sadly smiled. She never really given the thought of being somewhere new with no one and not being able to fit in.

"I realize how hard it must have been for you, when people call you strange and treat you like an outcast. It must have been hard."

Ulquiorra sits with his legs crossed and tilted his head giving it thought.

"I don't need anyone if I have you."

There was a mutual understanding between the two even though words of expression were rarely ever spoken.

"I'm really glad to have you." She answered back feeling the warmth of her cheeks turn pink.

"As I am too."

(Your Name) had gone to a late meeting with a few of her editors and seeing it was past midnight she didn't wanna wake ulquiorra up from sleep to walk her home.

She lived in a nice part of Tokyo but in a quiet area so people rarely ever walked on her road.

It was raining hard as she made cover underneath a store. Sighing she pulled her phone out and tried to speed dial Ulquiorra number before a loud rumbled hit the floor and she looked up to see a hollow.

At first she didn't wanna believe it but the thing was real and screaming walking towards her.

"(Your Name)."

"Ulquiorra- there's a, there's a monster charging towards me."

The phone line went dead as he rushed out to find her.

Running in the rain he spotted the hollow immediately. "Don't get any closer to her trash." He spoke as it roared.

Ulquiorra had lost all his powers but luckily he knew some move although none of it worked as he was easily slapped away as he hit the floor hard and he groaned.

"This human body is pathetic."

Watching the hollow grab (Your Name) he felt every emotion go through him. The pain, sadness, frustration. She was screaming as she reached out her hand to his.

He called out her name and whined in pain before blacking out.

"Ulquiorra!" She yelled to him but he didn't respond. Looking back at the hollow it open it's mouth to consume her as she shut her eyes a green light was glowing around her.

"I told you I would protect you." He says to her as she opened her eyes to see him in a white uniform and he was standing on air. STANDING ON AIR!

With one smack the hollow diminished into nothing as Ulquiorra settled her down safely on the road.

"You. You got your power back! How?"

Ulquiorra thought back about his fight and realized the same thing happen to Ichigo and he finally understood why he came back.

"Someone important to me is worth protecting." He reply's as she tears up and hugged him tightly as he gasped.

Sadly smiling to himself where no one could see him he embraced her back.

"Ulquiorra?" She asks him that same night as they sat on the roof top and he was still in gear. "Yes?"

"Does this mean you are leaving?"

He doesn't answer and looks down. He thinks back on how life was here in the human world. It was quite fun here. He didn't remember what he did back in the barren sand and dark night.

"No. Unless I have to."

She sighed in relief but still she knew he was different. "Just promise me, if you ever decide to leave... you will without telling me goodbye."

"I won't leave. I have no reason to go back." He plainly says looking up to the moon.

"You promise me? I can't imagine a life without you, the way you are eases me is comforting. Your the peace I needed in my chaotic mind."

He was lost for words, was this a human way for showing love?

"I to."

He wanted to say more. He liked her. Loved her. Even if he wouldn't admit it now, there was a warmth in him he had never felt before and the feeling of being needed was something he might have yearned for.

"I promise you, I'm only yours. Even if there's a obstacle between us there's way we can break it."

She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder as he stiffen a bit and then relaxed.

He was home. Home wasn't a place for him but someone that accepted him for who he was.

It was you.

(Author note: idk why he's such a hard character to write for me. I know he seemed oc but I put in some thought of how he would be as a human.)

[februaryberries]

Study (?) tips that you don’t see on every study post

Hi gamers, I just finished my first year at college/university!!

This year was really a struggle for me because I was trying to get the help I needed for my mental health, and I did not succeed until literally the week before finals spring term. I just got diagnosed w ADHD and put on meds (thank god) and I’m excited for the next year to come.

Though this year was absolutely grueling I did discover some little tips that can really help ! This is coming from my experience w ADHD but it could relate to other neurodiverse learners as well ! Even if you are neurotypical some of these might help !! 

This post got really long so I’m gonna put it under the cut but, main Idea is bolded w a more in depth explanation underneath ( for those like me who see a block of text and go running)

In no particular order:

If you can/are up for it take a class before noon even if you are not a morning person. I am NOT saying take an 8am when u regularly go to bed at 4am! Bc that is dumb bb pls get some sleep. In my experience once I go to class my brain is like “oh things are happening now, it is actually a day and not just existing in a timeless hellscape.”

Once I am out of bed/out of my room I am at least mildly more productive for the rest of the day. Going to a class before noon means you are up and doing things for the day and early enough that you still have light. This ties into the next one

Start while it’s still light out!! At least for me I gain so much happiness from natural light/sunlight, and it is very hard for me to do things let alone START things once it’s dark out because my brain is like nope the day is over now. Plus in the fall/winter days days are getting shorter and shorter so it’s important to make use of as much daylight as you can. I feel like a plant w how much I rely on light to survive but it really does help! 

Put on ‘Real People’ clothes. This is something that really helps me, even if it’s just like, jeans and a turtleneck, maybe tucked in w a belt. I’ve found that when I put on academic-y clothes or like Adult clothes it helps me switch my brain into school mode. It’s kinda like putting on a uniform for work? If I’m in too loose of clothes or like pyjamas for example, I’m much less likely to be able to switch my brain into productive mode. For me especially its when i’m wearing tighter clothing rather than baggy ones? Like i said a turtleneck which like the sleeves are fitted to my arms, and jeans or pants that are fitted to my legs. I think it helps because it makes me more aware of my body in the space? Idk.  figure out what real people clothes feel like to you, and then have a couple of go to outfits you can slip on when you’ve been in a hoodie and sweatpants all day and really need to get some work done. 

On that note, put on shoes. For me along w the tight clothing, I do better in shoes, specifically ones that lace up and can be tight. Like hightop converse, or boots, or even dress shoes w laces. I think in a way my body needs to be contained so I can focus on something? I’m not sure why I feel like that but i’ve learned to work w it. Putting on shoes for me helps because

1. I’m not distracted by what I’m putting my bare feet on (i cannot stand wearing socks unless im wearing shoes so yes bare feet)

2. I’m not getting distracted by my floor n the fact that hey maybe i should sweep bc there are some crumbs sticking to my feet now.

And 3. You put on shoes when you are going to go outside and go somewhere. It’s like putting pyjamas on to go to bed, you’re brain associates those items with doing something, so putting on shoes can signal to your brain hey we are doing something now, and that something is work.

Talk to your teachers !! I understand sometimes you have a teacher from hell and honestly idk what to tell you at that point but in  a lot of cases teachers can be very understanding !! The amount of support I’ve gotten from my teachers this year is absolutely insane and 100% the only thing that made it so I didn’t get kicked out of college. Like reaching out to your teachers shows that you care! if you have to take a mental health day sometimes let them know !! i would always let my teacher know that I really wanted to be in class but I just couldn’t handle it that day. They also can help connect you to resources you didn’t know about ! 

Look into what resources your school has !! I was talking about how next year is gonna go now that I’ve been diagnosed and such with my friend, and how I was gonna contact the DRC (disability resource center) and she didn’t know you could get support for having ADHD!! Like I know you can get extensions on due dates, attendance forgiveness, and even potentially note taking assistance when you have ADHD and talk to them. even if you are medicated it doesn’t 100% solve everything and there are still ways to get support! Whether its study groups, writing centers/support, tutoring, or even contacting your drc or whatever your school has, it can really help!! I’m definitely going to take advantage of these resources if I can next year ! 

Find a place outside you can go to clear your head (or have a mental breakdown) 

I can’t even begin to count the amount of times i’ve been freaking out over something or stressed out of my mind and my room started to feel to stuffy and claustrophobic and i just needed to get OUT. try to make sure it’s somewhere safe and close that you can go to even at night. (maybe try to shoot a text to your best friend that you’re out and if you don’t let them know you’re home by a certain time to start raising alarm, your safety is the most important) I tend to like to be up high because i’m further away from people, and the streets and I’m closer to the sky.

My go to thinking/breakdown spot is the roof of the parking garage a block away. It has stairs that are easy access and the top levels are usually empty even during the day. It really helps me to just go out and listen to music and collect my thoughts sometimes. My head can start going a million directions at lightspeed and I need to stop and be present, and being outside helps. It’s a good way to regroup.

Spend 10 minutes picking up your desk/work space. I tend to let my room get cluttered and messy and out of control a lot, to the point where I know it’s going to take at least a couple hours to get it clean again. It is also hard to focus when you’re in a messy environment. I would stress myself out and be like “well i HAVE to clean my whole room because I can’t focus if my space isnt clean I cant start until I clean” and then I would put all of my productive energy into cleaning, and get maybe halfway done before burning out and going to bed.

You’re never going to get any work done if you keep in this mindset. So instead just spend 10 minutes picking up the garbage off your desk, put the dishes in the kitchen, and put things back in their place. Then you will have enough space to work on your assignment and that space will be free of clutter so it won’t be as stressful. 

DRINK WATER DRINK WATER DRINK WATER

Have a water bottle in front of you when you’re studying/in class. I get fidgety a lot when i’m in class/studying (thank u adhd) and so having a water bottle is a way for me to fidget I guess? Depending on the water bottle, you have little steps you have to do to drink that help u fidget,

for example: pick it up, take off the lid, drink, put the lid back on, set it down.

Or pick up, push button that opens drink hole (?), set back down.

When I have a water bottle on my desk it satisfies my need to do something with my body and comes with the bonus of staying hydrated, without me having to lose focus doing something else. Also you won’t get distracted by a sore throat or the realization that you are really thirsty.

Pay attention to why you’re not paying attention. Not everything that works for me is going to work for you, so you have to figure out what works for you. I started to notice that I would be uncomfortable or feel funny working when I was in baggy clothes and that helped me figure out I needed to wear real people clothes. If you find yourself getting distracted, take note of what is distracting you. maybe try literally making a list of things that distract you, so then you can identify patterns and how to combat them !

That’s all I have for now, I hope some of these could maybe help? All of these have helped me actually complete an assignment occasionally, and somehow keep my ass in college. I just want to say that my experience is my own and things that work for me aren’t going to work on every one. college can be really tough, especially your first year when you’re trying to figure everything out. I may not have all the answers but feel free to shoot me a message!! i’m here for you if you want to ramble about an assignment you’re fed up with or a teacher you hate or anything thats bothering you !! Everyone’s college (and life) experience is different so don’t feel bad if yours doesn’t look the same as the people around you ! Remember to take care of yourselves !!!

Have a good day :)

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hey! thank you for everything that you do! you are awesome. im just wondering if you any fic were Stiles is fae? thank you!

We sure do. - Anastasia

till the moon has taken flight (to the waters and the wild) by WindyRein

(5/10 I 1,426 I Not Rated I Steter)

It's not fair! But he knows already that life isn't fair, doesn't he? He can feel the bitter smile curling his lips.He, if there is such a thing anymore, floats and is torn apart and doesn't exist. (but that would be kind, wouldn't it?)

Bloody Secrets by cywscross

(1/1 I 3,085 I Teen I Steter)

Stiles has silver in his veins.

Peter could’ve done without finding out this way though.

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane

(1/1 I 3,352 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

An arranged marriage with an angry, sometimes furry dude with trust issues. It's all very Beauty and the Beast, without the singing candlesticks.

Dance Under the Moonlight by Therapeutic_Steter

(2/2 I 3,440 I Mature I Steter)

Fae!Stiles saving Peter from Pack's stupidity and washing his hands of them. Please?

The Other Side by Green

(1/1 I 3,769 I Explicit I Steter)

Stiles doesn't know anything about his father, only what his mother told him, that he's human. Despite her words, Stiles has had his doubts. So when the queen sends him through the veil, he's nervous and isn't sure what to think.

Seven Years Falling by InfiniteAlexisA

(1/1 I 3,880 I Not Rated I Sterek)

“I don’t mean to!” Derek yelled throwing his hands in the air.“DON’T YELL AT ME!” Stiles screeched, his entire body going up in flames.This is what Derek gets for dating a fire elemental.

we're not so different (you and i) by colferstilinski

(1/1 I 5,621 I Explicit I Sterek)

For many of the fairies that lives here, Utopia is their sanctuary—haven, in other words—and why shouldn't it be? It never rains on this stretch of meadow, the clouds in the skies always pink with interest and it smells like the breaking of spring every dawn and dusk.

Stiles detest it, the least to say.

It’s too much and he hates swinging along with the status quo with the other fairies. Yeah, with their blooming shades of colours and the shimmering, silken tunics they don on and fuck, the limitless sparkles. There’s even a new trend going on with the younger generation where they gather allium blooms to form a flower crown, oh—with added glitter!—and it makes Stiles wants to roll his eyes.

-

Or the fic in which Stiles is a fairy and wants to escape the horrendous, boring world of fairyland to have an adventure. And by adventure, he means meeting Derek. The plant. Or... not-so plant.

Cold Iron by the_problem_with_stardust

(5/5 I 5,641 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek thought the disaster that ended with Kate Argent almost burning down his family home was a relationship worst-case scenario. So, when Dr. Deaton reveals that his current girlfriend is not what she seems, Derek is ready to swear off romance forever. In an attempt to escape his well-meaning (but insanely overbearing) family, Derek volunteers to take over remodeling the small cottage that was left to the Hale siblings in his grandmother’s will. Connemara is nothing like California, and Derek feels like his luck just might be looking up.

salt and a waltz by The Byger (Byacolate)

(1/1 I 7,433 I Explicit i Sterek)

"Not that lubed-up Q-tips aren’t the sexiest thing in the world, but I kinda want to know what it’s like, you know. To be impaled on your huge dick without actually being impaled.”

“It was about to get sexy there, but you shot the mood right in the face.”

In which Stiles is a faerie and Derek is sick and tired of not being able to fuck him.

Don't You Wanna Be My Sky? by WhoNatural

(1/1 I 9,420 I General I Sterek)

Stiles got ratted out by the Realm Guard for sneaking off with Scott a total of seven times before his dad buckled, promising sabbatical once Stiles reached Faehood, and enough Earth culture in the meantime to have him talking like a born-and-bred Californian teenager.

He just didn’t have the tan.

(Or, in which Stiles is a Frost Fae sent to the Earth Realm on the Fae version of Rumspringa and immediately falls head-first into a Coffee Shop AU)

No Love in Idleness by Elpie (Horribibble)

(2/2 I 11,687 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is the sole grandchild of none other than Robin Goodfellow, the most mischievous faerie ever to wreak havoc among the Folk and Man alike. To the people of Beacon Court, he is at best a merry wanderer of the night.

At first, Ser Derek is inclined to agree, but the little bird on his shoulder has quite a bit to say about that.

Trees are always a relief after dealing with people (except when they aren't) by ravelqueen

(1/1 I 15,889 I Mature I Sterek)

Derek Hale decides to become a hermit before he reaches 25. Too bad he picked Beacon Hills as his retirement home.

(Or the one where Stiles is a wood nymph/pixie/human hybrid who falls in love with his new grumpy werewolf neighbour)

Broken People Get Recycled by poemwithnorhyme

(1/1 I 16,389 I General i Sterek)

Nothing is ever just calm in Beacon Hills. No, something always has to go wrong, and this time, it's Stiles' turn in the spotlight. That doesn't mean he has to like it. Post S2 AUFae!Stiles

The Magic's in the Coffee by xxxillusionxxx

(8/8 I 17,596 I Explicit I Sterek)

Ever since the tall, muscled, leather-clad werewolf had begun his daily coffee routine at the Skullery—a horrendous name in Stiles’s opinion, but his boss was a skeleton who thought he was terribly clever—an impromptu competition developed among the baristas.

When Trust is Everything by hellbells

(12/12 I 27,913 I Teen i Sterek)

For a secret to remain true then only one person can know it; if not then it will come out. Beacon Hills is the converging point of several secrets all wrapped up in the supernatural. For Stiles, the unravelling of several will let him find peace, love and safety in the arms of his true mate. The only question is can he trust a Sourwolf and his pack well enough to show his true self.

It just might be the one thing between Beacon Hills and safety!

(Or observe the really awkward distrustful courtship between a Sourwolf and a hidden Fae Mage)

A Little Bit of Sunshine by 100KlicksAway

(21/? I 29,600 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles woke with a start, dreams of pixies flitting around his head. He’d dreamed… He’d dreamed that he was a wolf? Or…. He wasn’t sure. Something with fangs… His mouth had been dripping blood in his dream, and when he woke, he could still taste the thick copper taste coating his mouth.

Stiles has been working hard for the pack since Scott was bitten. They leave him out more and more frequently, though, until Stiles realizes that he's strictly unnecessary. Then, the pack's activities throw him into danger and he ends up in a shitty situation with no one helping him.

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills. He doesn't care anymore, he just... Needs out.

The Last Chills of Winter by LeeHan

(1/1 I 42,525 I Explicit I Sterek)

“He didn’t magically charm me,” Derek shot back in his defense.“Oh, so he just regular charmed you?” Laura said with a smirk.“What? No,” Derek growled.“Was he hot?”“No! He just—“ He just had a laugh like a sun shower. Fuck.

We Follow Darkness Like a Dream by GreenasCole

(10/10 I 51,106 I Mature I Sterek)

When a mysterious note is left on the Stilinski's door it leads Stiles and his best friend Scott out into the woods on quest for answers about Beacon Hills's most infamous tragedy. After a surprise encounter with a monstrous wolf the two boys are hurled into an ancient and terrifying world, only for Stiles to discover he was secretly a part of it all along. Will he manage to survive the insanity of Fae politics and avoid the enemies that are suddenly crawling out of the woodwork to find a place in this new world? Or will the very revelation of his existence be the catalyst that plunges both worlds into war and chaos? And why can't Scott just stop teasing him every time he catches Stiles looking at their new "friend" Derek too long?

Laughter in the Dark by Starshaker

(13/? I 56,148 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles is a fae. A trickster spirit with too much curiosity for his own good and a knack for getting into trouble. When he's just trying to help things don't go to plan and coincidences don't seem to end up for the better.Trapped, isolated and aching to get home, though it's better than what Gerard would have had planned for him initially, Stiles learns to deal with his new set of circumstances.

The Fairy's Wolf by kuki

(57/? I 90,602 I Explicit I Sciles)

In a world where non-humans mingle with humans in public schools until they became of age, about high school age, going instead to a specialty finishing school, a young halfling fae fights to stay with his friends. His fear of losing touch with his best friend, a young Alpha werewolf, has the pair pushing their relationship to the edge; and their relationship has the world on the brink of war.

-or-where I apparently ship Skittles hard now, hate myself with this work load on top of my school work, switch up species because f-u that's why, make up mythology, and try to give Derek a nice life.

Where You Still Remember Dreaming by yodasyoyo

(15/15 I 95,612 I Explicit I Sterek)

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Balto.”

“What’s yours?”

“Stiles.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. That isn’t his real name. There’s no way. But now he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of someone, probably Uncle Peter, telling him that with the fae, names have power. “I’m Miguel,” he says.

“Lie.”

“Are you trying to tell me your real name is Stiles?”

Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth and considers Derek carefully. “Fair enough,” he says, “Miguel it is.”

Grabbing his groceries and pocketing the change, Derek turns to leave; he’s nearly at the door when Stiles calls out, “By the way, Miguel, if you’re interested, it’s two for one on bags of kibble at the pet store down the street.”

Derek doesn’t look back, doesn’t hesitate, just raises a hand and flips him off on the way out.

[sgtduckybucky]

coming home to you

Genre: hurt/comfort, romance, angst and slight fluff.

Warning(s): slight au

Words: 2058

A/N: euhedeuhed NO ONE TOLD ME ALFIE WAS BACK!! UJHUEHEIUED I haven’t watched s5 and i wont for a while because im watching one piece so forgive me if this isn’t as accurate as the show. that’s why I added au as a warning since i only saw a clip of alfie on youtube.

this is a sequel to farewell and a gif but can be read alone! i won’t add links since posts don’t show up with links but send me an ask and i’ll give you think!

lastly, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors!

»»————-　♡　————-««

the sound of the fire cackling in the fire place was an odd source of comfort as the harsh december wind howled outside. this year’s winter was harsh and unkind to humans. just this morning, you’ve read in the paper that five people died from the extreme cold britain’s getting this year.

you poured yourself another cup of earl grey as a new louis armstrong song began playing on the record player as you enjoyed reading The Mysterious Affair at Styles. and just as you were about to doze off three chapters, cyrill suddenly lifts his head up and trots to the window, a low whine coming from deep within him.

you paid him no mind at first, but when he started pawing at the window, you closed your book and stopped the record player before walking to where cyrill was. pulling back the shades, you picked through the snow caked windows. squinting your eyes to see what got cyrill so worked up. when you couldn’t spot anything you drew the windows and patted the dog’s head, “there’s nothing there, cyrill.” you smiled down at him, “probably a squirrel trying to hide from the snow.”

glancing at the wall clock, you were surprised to find that it was getting close to midnight. once you’ve cleaned the living room, you switched off the lights and head to one of the guest rooms on the first floors. ever since your pregnancy started showing the baby growing heavier, you’ve decided to move your bedroom on the lower level since it was way too exhausting for you to get up the stairs. the room wasn’t much, barely decorated, but it was a place for you to rest and sleep in. and the bathroom next to it had standing shower which was also another reason why you moved to this room since you had quite a scare by almost falling out of your bathtub as you were getting up.

as you settled into bed, you glanced at the picture frame on the night table. the picture was of you and alfie from almost two years ago. you were at the pier on a rare and sunny day in britain and you had begged alfie to go. it was on of the most memorable days you’ve had together. the picture was of you and alfie standing behind those cutout boards where they had a muscled man lifting a woman and, thinking it would be hilarious, you stood behind the man’s cutout face while alfie, grumbling at first, stood behind the woman’s cutout face. slowly, your eyes closed shut at the fond memories.

»»————-　♡　————-««

life as an eight month pregnant woman wasn’t easy. you can’t bend any more to pick anything so once that object is on the ground, it stays there until either cyrill picks it up or when ollie drops by later and picks it up for you. you can’t have a good night’s sleep either since the baby keeps kicking you from all sides every two fucking minutes and you were always hungry for the strangest food! oh, and you’d pee a lot too which was getting on your nerves.

however, there are small perks to being this far along. the most noticeable one, and by your favorite, is the many discounts from markets and stores. the minute they lay eyes on you, pity brimming in their eyes, they just lower the price for whatever it was you were buying.

like today for example. you were suddenly craving an orange cake and chicken for dinner so you decided to head to the market early and start cooking. maybe even have ollie for dinner if he wasn’t too busy. the elderly woman took one look at you and lowered your groceries from thirty pounds to twenty pounds. and when she heard that your boyfriend died before he could even propose, she lowered it to fifteen pounds!

sometimes, it’s great being pregnant. you chuckled to yourself as you made home. it wasn’t too cold this afternoon so you weren’t in a rush as you walked through town. however, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. but every time you turned around, there was no one there. it was when you started hearing a second set of footsteps behind you did you pick your pace and take the long route home hoping to shake whoever was following you off. when you were certain the person wasn’t following you anymore, you quickly made it to your home and locked the doors. and rushed to pick the phone.

“hello?”

“t-tommy.” you stuttered into the phone.

“y/n?” tommy asked in slight surprise since you haven’t spoken to each other since that day you threatened to shoot his face off when you found out that you were pregnant with alfie’s baby.

“ca-can you come over? i think someone’s following me.” you whispered into the phone as you peaked through the window to make sure that no one was standing outside of your house.

“i’ll be right over.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

it’s been two weeks and you were positive that someone’s stalking you. tommy had insisted that him and the rest of your brothers would take turns staying the night at your place and accompanying you to any appointment or errand you need to run.

you were about to protest at first, yell and remind them that you weren’t some damsel in distress but when arthur said, “what if alfie’s enemies know that you were carrying his child.” he didn’t have to continue that statement as it was pretty obvious what he was saying. what if they knew you were carrying alfie’s baby and they were trying to kill you?

shaken to your core, you placed a protective hand on your belly and nodded your head.

“are you sure you don’t want me to stay over?” finn asked you, a frown tugging at his lips in concern.

you tried not to roll your eyes at your younger brother, “for the millionth time, i’m sure, finn.”

finn bit his lips, ready to ask the same question again when your house came into view, “finn, i love you all to death but having you lots breathing down my neck and jumping to your feet the minute i feel a cramp is getting on my damn nerves.”

finn looked away in guilt, “we’re just worried is all.”

you smiled appreciatively at your brother, “and i’m thankful for you all.” you said you leaned in and kissed his cheek, “but i need some time alone before i go fucking insane.”

chuckling along with you, finn nodded his head and watched you enter your home before leaving to meet up with michael.

-

“cyrill, i’m home!” you called as you discarded your coat and scarf and hung them on the coat rack by the door, “cyrill?”

confused, you slowly and quietly made your way to the living room in case he was sleeping.

but what greeted you wasn’t cyrill sleeping soundly on the couch, but of a large and burly man sitting on the couch with cyrill laying across his lap. his hair was short and a dark brown color that turned golden under the sun. his chin was covered in a greying brown beard while his mustache dropped down his lips. the left side of his face was scarred and almost disfigured with his left eye was a hauntingly greyish white color.

“a-alfie?” you chocked. your legs shook and almost gave out had you not slammed your hand on the coffee table in time.

“in the flesh.” he replied while shrugging nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal to show up at yours and your girlfriend’s house despite being supposedly dead.

“h-how?”

“i think you should sit down, love.”

shaking your head, you lifted your finger and pointed at alfie, voice going into hysterics as you said, “you’re s-supposed to be d-dead! t-tommy...tommy shot you! you died!”

aflie just sat as he silently watched the tears falling down your cheeks and into the carpeted floor, “like i said, y/n, you should sit down.”

and as if you were a puppet being controlled by your master, you shuffled your way to the armchair across the couch alfie was sitting on with cyrill.

“where do i begin.” alfie heaved as he dragged his hand down his face, making you wince as his hand came in contact with his scarred skin.

“from the start.” you spoke softly.

and alfie did as told. he talked about that day on the beach when tommy confronted him, how he was willing to die after he found out he was terminally ill and was going to die anyways and how tommy shot him.

“you were dying.” you whispered, eyes widening in shock at the revelation, “why didn’t you tell me?”

guilt flashed in alfie’s eyes, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

you stood up on your feet in rage but the abrupt movement made you dizzy so you sat back down, a hand on your head to stop your head from spinning. all the while alfie watched with a deep set of frown.

“you were going to leave me.” you said, a dry chuckle escaping through you lips, “you were going to leave us.”

“so that’s mine.” alfie pointed at your enlarged stomach with his, “good to know.”

anger bubbled inside of you at his words and at his carefree attitude, “he’s not yours. not after what you did.” you couldn’t help the tears from rolling down your cheeks but you were angry. you were angry that your brother had shot your lover, angry that you mourned someone who wasn’t even dead,  you were angry that he kept his illness from you and you were angry that he didn’t even tell you he was alive.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you chocked on your sob as tears blurred your vision, “why didn-” your throat tightened and you swallowed thickly. you were hurt. you were hurt, alone and scared these past eight and half months. worrying if you and your baby would survive this pregnancy, if your baby could survive the harsh winter and with someone stalking yo-

“have you been following me?” you asked as realization dawn on you.

“i was.” alfie replied.

“why?”

it took alfie a couple of seconds before he replied, “i wanted to see if you were safe.”

“were you going to come back?”

alfie looked away, wether in shame or to feed you a lie, you didn’t know.

“I was going to remain in hiding, keep a low profile from the bloody police but then i saw you were with child.” he pointed at your belly with his finger, “and i had to make sure whichever bastard did that to you was taking good care of ya. turns out i was the fucking bastard.” he chuckled humorlessly.

there was a short pause before you asked, “so why are you here?”

alfie’s fingers brushed cyrill’s thick fur, his miscolored eyes never leaving yours as he answered, “i wanted to come back home to you.”

“and what if i don’t want you back?” you raised an eyebrow challengingly, “what if i wanted you gone? what if i never wanted to see you again?”

“then i’ll leave.” alfie quickly replied.

“and what about your cancer? what if you leave us again, i-”

this time, alfie got up from the couch and kneeled down in front of you, taking both of your hands into his bigger and rougher ones.

“i promise i won’t leave you.” he kissed your hands with his chapped lips.

“how can i trust you?” you whispered.

“call fate or divine intervention or whatever but when your fucked up in the head of a brother shot me, the doctors drugged me up so much for so long that it cured my skin cancer.” he kissed your hands again but when he felt a tear drop land on his nose, he sat up straighter and kissed your tears away.

“i’m giving you one more chance.” you held alfie’s face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing the scarred skin, “if you leave us again, i swear i’ll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself.”

alfie chuckled, leaning in to softly peck your lips, “it’s a promise.”

[ddaenggtan]

monachopsis | knj x ksj

seokjin knows - has known, for years - that his life will be like this forever. there is no more sea, there is no more swimming, there is no more of anything he used to know. this is life - wake up, go to a shoot, try not to piss giho off, go home, sleep, wake up again. because he was caught. because giho owns him. because he can't. 

but then he meets namjoon. and seokjin starts to realize that maybe...just maybe. he can.

pairing | namjin

rating | sfw (some swearing & violence, so T for teen)

wc | 5.7k | cross-posted to ao3

warnings | mild violence, allusions to violence and physical abuse, a very brief depiction of said abuse, non-sexual choking, non-sexual slavery in a way, selkie!jin, aquarium worker!joon, marine biologist!joon, model!jin

a/n | hi this is for fwl’s Luv Library project, for the Fantasy & Fairytales section, and its also the first mxm i’ve ever posted so it might be a Little Rough but i am very attached to these characters and also i Love Selkies SO you get selkie jin!!! special super shoutout to @personawife​ for reading through it and also giving me the title!!!! im luv u!!! i hope u like the surprise ending that you didn’t get to read bc it was a surprise!!!!!!! ALSO added shoutout to user @jamaisjoons​ for the SUPERB banner she made!!!!!!!! im in love!!!!!!!!!! sol i do not deserve u!!!!!!!!!!

 He misses the sea, sometimes. 

He misses the refracting light and the weightlessness and the bubbles. He aches for the days he could swim, for miles and miles and miles, without getting tired. He misses the way his hair would move in the water, the way it felt to lay in the sun to dry off, the warmth that came with it all. 

Seokjin wraps his sweater more tightly around his torso and forces the thoughts away. Remembering gets him nowhere, he scolds himself. This is his life, now and forever, and he’s got to accept that if he wants to survive long enough to see the sea once more. He can do this. He’s strong enough for this.

The chill of the winter air is strong, too; it seeps into his bones and roots in them, lingering long after he’s made his way inside the studio. Giho is already there, berating some poor girl for her outfit choice. When he sees Seokjin he stops, waving at the intern. She runs out without even looking up. 

“You’re late,” Giho says with a sneer. They both glance at the clock on the wall. 11:55.

“You said noon,” Seokjin responds. His tone is neutral, a carefully constructed skill that has saved his life many times over the years. 

Giho tsks, likely because he can’t outright smack Seokjin with so many people around. Still, Seokjin can feel the old man’s eyes on him as he strips out of his clothes. 

The cold is prominent against his naked skin, and it doesn’t ebb as he slides the new clothes on. Giho is already yelling again, at the stylist this time, and it’s a familiar background noise. It’s still going on when he gets on the set, face in the perfect mask that everyone seems to love. 

The photographer barely needs to direct him; he and Taehyung have worked together for months now, and it only gets easier. Tae knows his best angles, his best lighting, how to highlight the cold expression he wears in shoots so the audience can interpret it their own way. 

Seokjin doesn’t know where Giho found this kid, but Tae is lucky the old bastard can’t keep him.

“To the left,” Tae mutters, and Seokjin does so without a word. 

The hours pass quickly. Between outfit changes and makeup retouches and actually shooting, the day flies. Before he even knows it, the clock is striking ten, and everyone is packing up. 

Jin changes quickly back into his sweater, the ever-colder air chilling him once more. Giho is off to the side with Taehyung and the Artistic Director, Hoseok, all three of them conversing quietly as they look at the photos from today. There’s no need for Seokjin to look; he knows how he did because Giho’s hands are kept to themselves. 

Checking again that they’re all suitably distracted, Seokjin turns to leave. He promptly stops, because he runs almost directly into someone coming through the door. Hands dart up to catch him, big and strong and warm as they wrap around his elbows for a second longer than they should, and there’s a muttered “Sorry,” from the guy in front of him. 

“Careful, hyung,” Taehyung’s voice calls. “Don’t damage the moneymaker.”

Seokjin’s eyes meet the man’s - a warm brown, one that reminds him of chocolate and muddy snow and love - before he physically pulls himself away. He doesn’t have to look at Giho to know what he’s thinking, what his paranoia is telling him about, and Seokjin needs to be able to eat tonight.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin says in the same unaffected voice he always uses around sets. “Barely touched me.”

The man frowns - probably because Seokjin is lying - but he lets it go, and Seokjin is thankful for it. Small mercies. 

“Jin,” Giho calls. He stops and turns. “Eleven, tomorrow.” He nods and leaves, ignoring the exhaustion in his bones and the familiar sorrow that fills his chest as he passes the all-too-familiar trunk by the door.

In the studio he leaves behind, Namjoon shares a look with his brother, who very minutely shakes his head. Namjoon knows that look, created that look to warn Tae off the ones that were more trouble that he could handle. Namjoon always wondered why his little brother never listened to that look. 

As he and Taehyung head to dinner, passing billboard after poster after billboard with Jin’s face on it, Namjoon thinks he might understand. 

The guy shows up more often. Seokjin knows his name, has said it a thousand times in his head over the weeks, but he won’t let himself acknowledge it. He can feel the guy’s stares on him, every time he arrives to get Tae at the same time Seokjin is running out the door after a shoot. He feels the interest, he’s intimately familiar with how it feels to have someone’s eyes running up and down his body, and he knows exactly what kind of danger that puts the both of them in. 

Giho sees it too, he’s sure. That’s the most dangerous part of it, the thing that could be the end of them both. He hasn’t said anything - yet - but Jin is positive as he switches poses for Taehyung that Giho can tell. 

He can tell that Namjoon - the guy , Jin corrects himself - is showing up earlier and earlier, more and more often, often hanging out beside the photo monitor and talking to Hoseok while he waits. That his eyes linger, long after the model is gone, and that they wonder, about everything. That he’s interested . 

Seokjin doesn’t like to remember what happened to the last man that was interested in him. 

It’s pouring rain. There’s a fog over the city that clouds vision and hushes conversation. There’s damp in the air, a wetness that seeps into each breath and covers the earth in its scent. It’s like a blanket over everything, making it all grey and dark and quiet, and Seokjin lives for it. 

It reminds him of the sea. How it would churn and darken and crash before a storm. The way the salt spray would hit the ice, the smell of the lightning in the air, the way he could just let it carry him wherever it wanted him to go. 

He stands outside the studio. Giho left hours before, for some important networking dinner. He’d tried to drag Seokjin along with him, until Taehyung offhandedly mentioned needing to reshoot a couple things. Giho had sneered and stormed out and that was that.  

Now he stands outside, in the rain, with his back against the building. The trunk is just on the other side of the wall; it lingers in the back of his mind, taunting. He can feel it. He knows it’s there. 

It’s a testament to how thorough Giho is in his punishments that Seokjin doesn’t attempt to claw it open and instead just tips his head back, eyes closed, basking in the water soaking his sweater and the pull he can feel in his stomach. 

He should be swimming.

“Do you need a ride?”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes; he knows the voice. Has spent too long hearing it murmur on the sidelines of photoshoots, has watched its owner as his lips form words he isn’t supposed to listen to. 

He should ignore it. That’s what Giho would warn him to do.

“Jin?” 

He flutters his lids open, casting a glance at where Namjoon and Taehyung stand. Taehyung has his camera out, and Seokjin has no doubt he’s already snapped a few photos of their surroundings out of habit. 

“I’m fine,” he says softly. His voice is slightly hoarse from disuse, but Namjoon doesn’t even flinch. Taehyung is fiddling with his camera, oblivious to the way Namjoon’s eyes search Seokjin’s face for the lie he won’t find.

The rain is the only solace that Seokjin gets; he cherishes these nights. He won’t cut it short, especially not for a human.

“I’m fine,” He repeats. Against his better judgement, he continues, “I enjoy the rain. It’s refreshing.”

“Refreshing…” Namjoon echoes quietly. Neither of them speak, for a long moment; Namjoon continues to look for any sign that Seokjin is lying, and Seokjin continues to pretend the streaks on his cheeks are from the raindrops. 

“Walk Jin home.”

They both turn at that, to where Taehyung has his camera pressed to his eye as he frames some shots. When he’s finished, and there’s been no response, Taehyung looks at them both. 

“It’s bad weather,” Taehyung explains, “On a dark night. It’d be rude of us to let you walk home alone when anything could be lurking in the shadows.”

Namjoon looks at Seokjin, practically begging for him to agree. He should say no. He should walk himself the ten blocks to his apartment, and pretend neither of them ever said anything, and continue on with his life. Giho would go berserk if he ever found out, would never allow it, would do everything he could to prevent it. 

“Sure,” Seokjin says. He’s tired of doing what Giho wants. He’s tired of being without the sea, being kept landlocked with just the rain to remind him of home. “It’s this way.”

Namjoon and Taehyung share a look, but Seokjin pays it no mind as he heads down the street. 

The rain is coming down in sheets, and his clothes are soaked. They rest heavy against his skin, and it just makes Seokjin miss the ocean more. He misses how it felt to be weightless, constantly; to feel so powerful and strong and capable. He never feels that way on land. 

“How long have you been a model?” Namjoon eventually asks. For a moment - a split second - Seokjin considers ignoring him. It’s what Giho would demand he do. 

“Too long,” He says instead. 

“You don’t enjoy it?” Namjoon asks, surprised. Seokjin shakes his head, just slightly. 

“I do, it’s just…” He searches for the words. He can’t tell anyone about it, has no one to talk to, no one that would believe him. He’s never even felt the urge to share it. Until now. “It’s not what I would have picked for myself.”

Namjoon is silent beside him, and Seokjin can feel the question on the tip of his tongue. He’s going to ask why he does it, why he would bother being a model if it isn’t what he wants to do, and then Seokjin will be forced to come up with an excuse. 

“What would you have picked?” Namjoon asks instead. 

It brings all of the thoughts in his head to a standstill; all the worry and anxiety and stress stops, distracted by the thought that he had wanted, once upon a time. It takes a long time for Seokjin to find words, to find something that could translate into human language. 

“To swim,” He says simply. “To be in the ocean, or with my family. Something.”

“You aren’t with your family?”

“No.” He debates how much to say, but eventually, Seokjin decides, fuck it . He’s been quiet for long enough, and something about Namjoon is comforting, and soothing, and encouraging. “I lost them, when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, and Seokjin thinks he actually means it, even if he doesn’t know the real truth of the matter. How Seokjin strayed too far from them, despite the warnings he’d been given his entire life. How he wanted to stretch human legs and snuck away and got caught by someone that recognized the coat drying on a rock and what he was. 

How Giho locked it away, for years, and forced Seokjin to be his ticket to wealth. 

“So am I.”

It becomes an irregularly regular thing, Namjoon walking him home. 

He can’t do it every night. They’re both too aware of the way Giho watches them, though for different reasons. Namjoon doesn’t know what Giho has done to others in his position, the lengths he’s gone to ensure Seokjin stays his. 

But the nights when he can, when Giho leaves for some dinner or event or something and Taehyung can come up with a believable excuse...those are the nights that Seokjin starts looking forward to. 

He learns so much about Namjoon - that he studied marine biology in school, got his doctorate in it as soon as he could; that he visits his parents’ grave every Wednesday morning, leaves flowers for them when he has the money; that he wants to travel the world and help endangered species everywhere, wants to take Taehyung with him as a nature photographer; that he’s the best man Seokjin has ever known with the biggest heart and the most patience that he’s ever seen. 

Namjoon doesn’t question why Seokjin only ever gives vague answers, or skirts around mentions of where he comes from, or why he doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t ask Seokjin to let him up into the apartment, or answer his questions, or explain why he stays at arm’s length despite leaning closer because Namjoon is warm. 

He doesn’t question any of it, and it makes Seokjin’s heart flutter dangerously in his chest, and it means that when Namjoon asks if he has a free day anytime soon, Seokjin only hesitates for a second before he responds. 

“Giho has a business trip coming up,” he tells Namjoon. “As long as we have three full shoots, he won’t suspect anything.”

“Will you come with me?” Namjoon asks. “I just want to distract you for the day. I’ve seen your life, what you do, so much. I’d like to show you mine, if you’ll let me.” 

He should say no. He shouldn’t go with him, he should say no, and stop letting Namjoon walk him home, and let Giho move them across the country again.

“Sure.”

The day comes. Seokjin dresses nicer, though he’ll never admit it. A nice button-down, black slacks, hair styled, sunglasses to combat the glare in the sky. Giho is gone for three days - three marvelous, liberated days - and Seokjin can use that time to come up with a believable excuse if he’s recognized.

Namjoon looks like he always does - warmth and welcome and strength. It settles in Seokjin’s chest the second he sees Namjoon, and he wonders if this is what people meant when they say they found home in someone.

He doesn’t ask Namjoon where they’re going; just follows him onto the subway, and off, and on, and off again, listening to him talk about this cafe and that bookstore and the busker on the corner. He gets the full experience of Namjoon’s commute, and he couldn’t be more in love with him. 

With it. He’s in love with it , the commute, seeing what other people do each day. That’s all, because that’s all he can let himself have. 

When they arrive, Seokjin stares. He doesn’t know why he didn’t know, why he didn’t put the pieces together from all the times Namjoon has mentioned his work and his degree, but he didn’t...he didn’t think , didn’t even consider, and now he stands on the sidewalk, staring at the large building, and Namjoon is waiting for him. 

“Seokjin?” He asks softly. “We can turn around right now.” 

He looks at Namjoon - really looks at him. Takes in the nice turquoise shirt and the cuffed slacks and the dress shoes, the glasses that are so thick Seokjin wonders how he sees without them at all, the way there’s already disappointment clouding the acceptance in his eyes. 

“No,” He says. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

He shouldn’t be here, his mind tells him throughout each exhibit. Not just because of Giho this time, but for himself. 

Namjoon is so excited about each exhibit, telling him about each creature as they go through. He mentions how each one has its own name, though they get confused sometimes for the larger populations. How so many have been released into the wild successfully, how so many have been rebuilt and are on the brink of non-endangered status. 

He talks about the sharks, and how Louise and Wheein haven’t been getting along, but that Yari and Chainsaw are expecting a pup soon; he talks about the penguins and how Potato keeps stealing extra fish but he does it to give to Frenchie, so they let him get away with it; he talks about the jellyfish, and the rays, and the octopuses, and everyone and everything, and it’s nearly too much for Seokjin, but he manages. 

He gets through nearly the entire aquarium, exhausted but content with the happy grin on Namjoon’s face, but he stops, because Namjoon has mentioned Maple throughout the entire trip, has talked about her before. Seokjin knows Maple’s history better than his own, almost, but he never realized…

Now he does. He watches as Maple dives back down off the landing, flipping and turning in the water. They stand in a viewing area, a room long and tall and tinted blue with the water at the bottom of the tank. It gives way to land halfway up, is more than generous for the lone animal that dances through the water. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Namjoon asks. “She’s the one we’re working hardest with. Hawaiian monk seals are critically endangered, so when she was brought in as a pup, she took first priority. We’re doing everything we can to get her back up to breeding standards. She keeps getting sick, though, and no pregnancy has been viable so far.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even blink. He doesn’t know this seal, not really; she’s just a seal, she’s not like him, she’s not even the same species, but a human wouldn’t know that. Especially not a human like Namjoon, completely out of the loop on all of it. 

“She wants to be free.”

He can see it when Namjoon turns to look at him, confused. Watches the reflection in the glass as closely as he watches Maple’s mourning dance. 

“Her environment is larger than most,” Namjoon says. “She’s got plenty of room to swim and we’ve got activity sets throughout so she’s mentally stimulated as well. She eats, probably more than she should, and-”

“A cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty it is.” Seokjin can see it, can hear Maple’s call, can feel it in his very soul as the urge to respond grows. She spots them standing there and swims closer, and Seokjin places a hand on the glass wall. “She wants to be back in the ocean.”

“It’s dangerous for her there,” Namjoon says quietly. He says it like he knows, like he’s always known, what she needs, but doesn’t want to admit it. “There isn’t enough food, humanity keeps taking their territory...she’s sick. She wouldn’t survive out there.”

Better to die free than spend eternity in a cage, Seokjin thinks bitterly. He takes a breath and reminds himself that Namjoon cares. He’s helping, in the only way that he knows how. 

Maple spins when she spots Namjoon, clearly excited, but when her eyes land on Seokjin, she stills. 

“Ah, she’s not always friendly to strangers, so…” Namjoon trails off. His reflection shows his jaw slack, open in a surprised o , because he’s wrong, this time. 

Maple lets out a whistle - long, and low, and haunting in the stillness of the building. Her nose is nearly against the glass, she’s so close, and she looks straight into him. She sees him, recognizes him for what he is, and uses the call. 

Seokjin can feel the snap as his soul breaks; what little was left of him shatters, into pieces. He can’t return her call, he can’t tell her that he sees, that he knows what she’s feeling and will do what he can to help her, because he can’t . He can’t help her, he has no way to save her from her cage because he’s stuck in his own. 

She must see it, somehow, because her song trails off, and Seokjin hates himself. He hates himself for being here, for allowing himself to get close to Namjoon when he can’t, for not being able to even hear her song the way it deserves to be heard. 

“Hey,” Namjoon calls, soft and quiet. His thumb brushes hesitantly along Seokjin’s cheek, carrying a tear with it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin tells him. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow, to do the shoots, so I’m gonna head home.” 

“Do you want me to go with you?”

He turns on his heel and walks out, ignoring Namjoon’s question entirely. He can’t lie right now, he does want Namjoon with him, but he can’t. It’s too dangerous, and seeing Maple just reminded him of it. 

He can’t let Namjoon get hurt just because he makes Seokjin feel marginally better. 

In his wake, Namjoon sighs. He turns to Maple, wishing he was up top in his wetsuit so he could run his fingers through her fur the way she likes. Her eyes are big and sad, more so than usual, and Namjoon thinks maybe he understands her for the first time. 

“I’ll try,” He tells her. “I’ll try.”

Weeks pass. Months fly by. Shoot after shoot after shoot gets published, and Giho rakes in the cash from them. Seokjin stays in his small apartment, watching the light reflect rainbows through the window pane. He stopped letting Namjoon walk him home when Giho got back, and nearly ripped part of Seokjin’s hair out with fury that he’d gone out. 

The only reason it wasn’t worse is because Seokjin managed to convince him that it was promo for the upcoming swimwear collection, and good press about the humanitarian efforts of the label. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Namjoon stopped showing up after a few days. Seokjin refuses to ask Taehyung why, because he shouldn’t care. He can’t care. Not with Giho hovering over his shoulder at every turn. 

One day, for some reason, things change. Giho gets less certain, more fidgety. Starts looking over his own shoulder. Stops threatening Seokjin with every glance. 

Stops glancing altogether. 

It just makes Seokjin worry more; if the one in charge is afraid of something, everyone else should be as well. That was the first lesson his mother taught him. 

Seokjin gathers his things. Packs them all back into his suitcase, keeps a single change of clothes out and starts washing them every day. Giho looks ready to run, and Seokjin knows by now that he needs to be ready when it happens if he wants to keep any of his things. 

Then Giho disappears. 

Giho disappears for a while . 

He doesn’t take Seokjin with him. He just disappears one night, when everything is quiet and still. The calendar is still booked with shoots, so Seokjin just keeps working. One night, he and Taehyung go out for Korean BBQ. The entire week after that, Seokjin expects Giho to pop up and berate him for doing anything that isn’t working, but it never comes. 

A few weeks later, they go on a day trip to a mountain and walk the trails together while Taehyung takes pictures. Neither of them mention Giho or Namjoon or anything except the way the leaves fall. 

Life goes on. For months, Seokjin begins tiptoeing across the line. He goes out more often. The time between shoots gets longer and longer, and Seokjin begins to enjoy things. He goes to see movies, and shopping, and eating, and travelling. He starts doing the things he wants to do. 

He sees Namjoon again. 

They get dinner together, whenever they’re both free. It starts with Taehyung inviting him for drinks, and turns into them meeting each other at the cafe on the corner that makes the good boba. They talk for what could be hours, or what could be minutes. Seokjin never knows, because everything else seems to stop when he’s with Namjoon. 

He says as much as he can, as much as he dares, but it never seems like it’s enough. Namjoon takes what Seokjin gives him, more than happy to be included again, but they both know that there’s a time limit on it. Still, Seokjin fools himself into thinking that it’s become an if , instead of being a when . 

He fools himself into thinking that this can be his life. 

It takes almost four months. It’s been nearly a year since Seokjin first met Namjoon - he refuses to acknowledge that he remembers the day. Giho returns in a whirlwind. 

He interrupts the shoot, throws the clothes around, breaks some mannequins, it’s all out war on the set, and they all watch silently. The only thing that keeps him from breaking Taehyung’s camera is the look on the younger’s face when Giho goes for it. 

But of course, nothing lasts forever. He spots Seokjin, sitting as still as a statue in the makeup chair, and that’s the beginning of the end. He recognizes the feral rage in God's eyes, has seen it barely contained too many times before, and he’s clearly not holding back this time. 

He has Seokjin on the ground, under his shoe, with a cane against his throat when the door opens. The others have tried to help, but Giho is surprisingly adept with a cane when he wants to be, and as such, no one has gotten close. But Seokjin can guess what time it is, he knows in his bones who just walked in, and he refuses to let this happen.

“You,” Giho hisses. The pressure on Seokjin’s throat disappears as Giho stands; the model coughs, several times, choking down air even as his hand darts out to wrap around his owner’s ankle. 

The elder crumples to the ground, kicking at Seokjin’s steel grip, but it’s useless, because Seokjin is tired. 

He is tired of being afraid of a bitter old man. He is tired of being without the sea. He is tired of not allowing himself to be happy. 

He’s on top of Giho before he even realizes he’s moved, prying the cane from his hands and holding it steady over Giho’s windpipe. He doesn’t press down, not yet; just holds it there, like the threat it is.

“You will not hurt him,” Seokjin commands. “And you will run, as far as you can get. You will run to the ends of the earth, and then, God willing, you will run further. You will leave your wealth and your fame and everything I have made for you, and if you dare to show your face among humanity again…”

“What?” Giho spits, a smirk growing on his face. “What is a defenseless little pup like you going to do?”

Seokjin leans down, letting the cane choke the man below him as he drops his voice. “I will find my brethren, and I will tell them what you have done. They will spread your story far and wide, across every ocean, over every continent, and when they find you, they will remind you why we are considered predators.”

He sits back, letting the cane go and allowing air back into his lungs. He stands on his own two feet, the legs that have carried him for so long, and he looks around. 

“This shoot is over,” Seokjin says. “Everyone get out.” 

The people scramble, even Taehyung gathers his things to leave, and the room is empty in seconds. Only he and Giho remain. 

The elder lies on the floor, still catching his breath, as Seokjin tosses the cane across the room. He looks around, spots an old iron trash can from a shoot last month, and starts toward it. 

“It won’t do you any good,” Giho says. Seokjin ignores him and hefts the can up, carrying it across the room. “You won’t get anywhere. You can’t just disappear, not when the world knows your face.”

“Maybe so,” Seokjin says as he positions himself. “But at least I’ll have the choice.”

He brings the iron can down with all his strength. There’s a colossal crash as it connects with the old padlock, and it only gets louder with the next one. It takes seven hits for the lock to break, and the sound of it clattering to the floor isn’t one he’s likely to forget.

When he opens the trunk, however, it’s empty. 

“I told you,” Giho hisses triumphantly. “It won’t do any good.” 

Seokjin resists the urge to curse under his breath and forces himself not to sob as he looks back at Giho. 

“Then it won’t do you any good either.”

The sand is warm beneath his feet. The setting sun paints the sky a myriad of colors, orange turning into red bleeding into purple shifting into blue curling into black, all of it reflected in the cool water below. The tang of salt wafts in with every breath he takes, and just confirms that this is right. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” Namjoon says from behind him. Seokjin didn’t hear him approach, but he didn’t need to. He knows Namjoon won’t hurt him. 

“Thanks for calling,” Seokjin responds. He feels the tide tickle his toes, and he knows that this is best. “I actually wanted to tell you something.”

“I think I should go first,” Namjoon’s voice is firm, but hesitant. Like he doesn’t want to say what he’s saying. Seokjin turns, frowning slightly when he sees the other. Namjoon looks troubled, looks like he would rather be anywhere else, and that doesn’t bode well for Seokjin. 

Still, he gestures for Namjoon to continue.

“Tae pointed it out,” Namjoon eventually says. “He mentioned how you looked at it, and thought maybe...maybe it had passports or something inside, something you could use to get away. So when he left, and we thought he might not come back...I opened it.”

A weight settles in Seokjin’s throat. 

“Opened what?”

“The trunk,” Namjoon says. “I broke in and I picked the lock and...I didn’t know it was...I didn’t think he had it….” He sighs and pulls his hands from behind his back, and there it is. 

Seokjin’s coat. 

It’s silky and smooth and soft and perfect and exactly as he remembers it. It’s bigger now, grown with him, and the sight of it in the light is enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

“He had some kind of alert on the trunk,” Namjoon continues, “So when I opened it he knew. That’s why he came back. I didn’t know he would come back.”

“Namjoon…” Seokjin looks at him, eyes wide and tear-filled, and for the first time since they met, Seokjin is scared. His life is here, right in front of him, but he doesn’t know if he can have it. 

Because now Namjoon knows. He knows what Seokjin is, he’s fully aware that Seokjin can’t leave without the coat in Namjoon’s hands. He could keep him forever, just as Giho intended to do. 

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon says again. “Or I wouldn’t have taken you to the aquarium. I wouldn’t have done that to you, I wouldn’t have hurt you like that, and I am... so sorry, Seokjin. I’m so sorry that I did that to you, I-”

“Namjoon, you didn’t know-”

“But now I do.” Namjoon sniffles slightly, and his hands shake, but he extends them, holding the coat out to Seokjin. “And I’m sorry.”

Seokjin’s fingers curl in the fur, almost reverently, as he takes it. It’s still warm, and it feels like water in his hands, and it’s everything he’s missed in his life. 

“Namjoon, I…” He trails off, because there’s nothing he could say. No words fit this gift, this release; there’s nothing he could say that would properly convey the emotions building in Seokjin’s chest. 

“I know,” Namjoon says. “You’re not in a cage anymore. You’re free to go and do what you want to do.”

Seokjin strips his sweater off and wraps his sealskin around his shoulders. It’s the perfect size for him, exactly what he needs, and when he crashes waist-deep into the surf, it keeps him warm. 

He turns, though. Namjoon stands on the shore, just out of reach of the tide, and watches him. There’s a smile on his face, small and sad, and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it from his lips, but he can’t. 

Because he’s free. 

He turns, wrapping the skin tighter around his shoulder. When he gets under the water, he can feel it in his hair and he can feel the water against his tail and he’s almost home. 

But something is missing. 

There’s warmth and weightlessness and the setting sun painting the water a rainbow , but the buzz in Seokjin’s chest isn’t full. There’s something not right, something not quite perfect about this moment that he’s been dreaming of for years, and he can’t figure out what. 

Namjoon stares at the horizon, wondering how far Seokjin has already gone. He sends up a small wish, a hope, that Seokjin can live his life, free and happy and himself. That he can find his family, see his pod again. 

His heartbeat turns painful, something constricting his chest and making it difficult to breathe, so he turns away. The crash of the waves covers the sound of his shaky breath, because of course, of course , he would find love in a man that couldn’t stay. 

Fingers tangle in his own and Namjoon turns, shocked, to see a wet Seokjin, hair damp with his sealskin around his waist. 

“W-What-”

“I can’t,” Seokjin says softly. “I can’t go back, I can’t find them, I don’t know how to do that without…”

He trails off and Namjoon stares because this is it, he thinks. This is everything he’s been waiting for his entire life, here, right in front of him. He just has to let himself have it. 

Seokjin’s hand pulls away from his and Namjoon mourns the loss for the brief moment it takes for the selkie to pull his sealskin off and place it carefully in Namjoon’s arms. 

“Namjoon,” He says, voice hushed and serious, “I want you to...because I…” 

He’s never Seokjin this unsure, this at a loss, and the way he keeps starting sentences that have no end is undeniably endearing. But he can feel Seokjin’s growing frustration at his inability to articulate his thoughts, so he just smiles. 

“I know,” Namjoon says. He takes the coat and places it back in Seokjin’s hands, covering them with his own. The heat from their skin combines and warms Namjoon straight to the core. “And I love you too.”

[luthorao3]

Roisa Secret Santa | Mac & Cheese

Prompt: Mac & Cheese, side of angst Rating: T (teen)  Word count: 2009 words 

merry christmas, @only-freakin-sunflowers!!!  

it’s been so much fun writing this little piece and dropping into your inbox to spread that festive cheer this winter. (im dreadful at keeping secrets when im excited about something - the amount of times i panicked that i’d sent an ask without anonymous being ticked, my god...) i really wanted to add an over the top cutesy ending to this, but when i tried to write it, it just didn’t fit with the foundations that i’d already set down, so i’m sorry if you’re expecting that! i hope this story does your prompt justice, and thank you for all the lovely replies to my asks these past few weeks! 

i hope that the next few days bring you so much joy (and some freakin good food, man), and that the new year is kind to you. <3 

Luisa’s gaze lingers on the view from their balcony window.

They’ve been in France for three nights, already, tucked into a snowy city with a Swiss border, and mountains that threaten the stars sitting peacefully in their back yard. Luisa feels the biting chill even in spite of her many layers, but does not make to enter the wooden chalet that Rose had secured them for the week. The glass doors behind her reveal a lamp-lit bedroom and the suitcase that they never bothered to unpack, given that they might, at any point, need to make a speedy escape.

Luisa cranes her neck to see the row of wooden buildings that line the mountain road, instead, some small and quaint, others triple-storey and magnificent, all of them like a scene from a real festive movie – the kind with snow piled up to the windows, and hot cocoa with marshmallows floating on top, and innocent mishaps that threaten to ruin Christmas for good, but never actually succeed.

It’s not Luisa’s first white Christmas, and yet the novelty has never really worn off.

Behind her, the sound of a sliding door opening and closing signals Rose’s return from the shower.

Warm arms wrap tightly around her from behind, struggling around her middle and the three separate jackets that Luisa has smuggled herself into. Rose snorts a delicate laugh when she barely manages to rest her chin on Luisa’s shoulder, the faux fur around her hood tickling her cheek. She smells like hotel shampoo and warmth, and Luisa sinks back against her with a sigh.

“Are you still brooding?” Rose asks by her ear.

Luisa considers the question before answering with a quiet, “A little.”

“What can I do to make it better?” Her gaze flicks to one side. “We can turn on the hot tub.”

“I’m not really in the mood for that. Besides, it’s freezing.”

Rose’s voice lilts, suggestive, when she offers, “I can keep you warm.”

Luisa straightens, relieving Rose of her weight, and turns around. She balks when she realises Rose is wearing nothing but a thick white bath robe and a pair of complimentary slippers, damp red hair hanging limp over one shoulder, inviting a frost. “Are you serious? Get inside right now!” Luisa’s concern for her far outweighs the lingering uneasiness that had led her out onto the balcony, where she’d hoped the frigid air would cool her temper. “You’re going to catch your death.”

Rose stops Luisa from man-handling her inside with gentle but firm hands on her biceps.

“Wait. Talk to me before we go back in there. I know you’re upset, and I don’t want to bring this to dinner with us. Tell me how you’re feeling? Let me help.”

Luisa’s mouth gapes like a fish forced to the surface. She clicks it shut with more force than she means. “I’m feeling cold just looking at you. Please can we just—” She attempts to usher Rose back toward the balcony door, but Rose is firm and unrelenting. Her gaze pierces Luisa like a spear, rooting her in place, until Luisa drops her arms with a sigh. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can we go sit down inside, where you’re less likely to contract hypothermia?”

“No,” Rose answers plainly, crossing her arms. She looks less affected by the weather. If not for the gooseflesh crawling up her exposed throat, Luisa might assume she couldn’t even feel the cold. “I’m sick of pretending that nothing’s wrong, or biting my tongue and hoping that whatever’s upsetting you will eventually just go away. It isn’t, and it’s—” her acerbic tone gentles, the words whispering out of her in visible puffs of white breath, “it’s not fair for you to pretend that you’re okay just to keep me from worrying. I know you, Luisa, I know when something is bothering you.”

Luisa blinks a sheen of moisture from her eyes and lowers them to the knot in Rose’s bathrobe. She tugs on it with gloved fingers and then re-ties it tighter than it had been, all the while with Rose waiting patiently for her to speak. Casting a look over her shoulder, Luisa eyes the distance to the ground from their balcony perch, and considers how badly she might hurt herself if she were to jump.

She’d survive the fall. Probably, the landing could do little damage…

The thought brings a soft tut from beneath her tongue, and she releases the robe with a cloudy sigh.

“It’s Christmas,” she whispers, unable to meet Rose’s gaze. Instead, it lingers in the fine silver stitching details on the robe’s lapels – spun silken snowflakes caught in a wintry gale. Just looking at them makes her feel colder. “It’s Christmas Day and I can’t call anyone to wish them a Merry Christmas. I can’t even write. I have no idea what they’re doing, if they’re together, if they’re okay— they have no idea about me, either.” Her expression draws in, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “I bet they’re not even thinking of me. I bet, if they are, it won’t be anything good.”

It comes out on a breath of laughter that holds no mirth, and Luisa swallows against the lump in her throat.

“I chose to do this,” she says, and Rose wonders which one of them she’s addressing. “I wanted this, us, I chose you. I don’t regret that.” She looks up, finally, her big brown eyes soft and warm and a little watery, sheening against the light coming from the balcony doors. “I don’t regret that,” louder, steadier, her hands coming to rest in the crooks of Rose’s elbows. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I’m just… struggling, I guess.”

Rose presses closer, her slippers dragging against the balcony decking.

She presses a cold, soft hand to Luisa’s cheek – holds it there, until the warmth of Luisa’s skin inspires feeling back into her fingers.

“No one’s faulting you for that,” she murmurs, her voice a low hum. “I know it hasn’t been easy, loving me.”

Luisa’s brow wrinkles. “Don’t think that.”

“I don’t blame you for anything, you know? If not for me, you’d be with them, now.”

“Would I?” Luisa bites the inside of her cheek until it dimples. “We never had Christmases like normal families, not like what you’d see on TV. The best Christmas I ever had was when I decided to stay in college over winter break. It was just me and the foreign exchange students; they did potluck in their dorm, and we ate out in the hall on beanbags and pillows, and then we played hide and seek in the library.” Her brow crinkles again, this time fondly. “I made out with a girl from Greece who was built like a professional football player. I can’t even remember her name.”

Rose snorts delicately, warm breath puffing from her nostrils.

The sight draws a tender smile to Luisa’s mouth.

“You’re not, you know?” she says, stepping forward, lassoing her arms around Rose’s waist and pulling her closer. “You’re not hard for me to love at all. My life would probably be much simpler if you were.”

Rose hangs her arms around Luisa’s shoulders, relaxing against her front.

“It’d be boring,” she agrees, and Luisa snickers. “Sometimes boring is good, when the alternative is going on the run from the law and never seeing your family again.”

“Thanks, I was just getting over that.”

Rose brings both hands to Luisa’s face, this time, squashing her sarcasm between them.

“You’ll never be over that,” she says, and the matter-of-factness of the statement makes Luisa’s breath hitch, but then she never has managed to get over how delicately Rose delivers her killing blows. Rose knows exactly how to turn the world inside out, and she can do it with the same precision it takes for a needle to pop a balloon. The bang makes you jump even when you’re expecting it.

Rose studies her face like she’s looking for a reaction, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Luisa wonders if she’s supposed to protest, but can’t. Won’t. Finally, Rose’s gaze softens. “Next year,” she says, picking her words with care, and with the future so far in the distance Luisa cannot blame her, “I’ll give you a proper Christmas. Dinner, presents, a tree. Anything you want.”

“Anything I want?” Luisa repeats, smiling, but Rose’s expression keeps its almost-solemn quality.

“Anything you want,” she agrees. “I’ll take you to Lapland, I’ll buy you your own goddamn reindeer, if that’s what you ask for.”

“I mean, I don’t know the first thing about their diet,” Luisa scoffs, and then her brows draw in tight with thought, “but Google has never failed me before…” Rose shivers, drawing Luisa’s attention quickly back to her. “What’s this about dinner, though? It’s not too late to find somewhere, right? I know it’s not the same as cooking your own, but I think we’re just gonna have to forgive ourselves for that, given the circumstances.”

“Actually,” Rose begins, coy, caressing Luisa’s cheek with the fat of her thumb, “I thought we’d eat in, still. I don’t want to tempt fate, today of all days. It won’t be a Christmas Dinner, or anything even remotely close to it, but I want to do this for you. I want you all to myself tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

“Wait, you want to cook for me?” At Rose’s nod, Luisa’s lips press closed. “Babe, I love you, but you really don’t need to do that.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Luisa clears her throat. “I mean…”

“Wow,” Rose puffs, unable to hide her smile, even if the offence is real. She drops her hands from Luisa’s face, draping her arms back around her shoulders. Their bodies sway together as Rose suppresses a laugh. “Fine then. I won’t cook.”

Luisa squeezes her tighter around the middle. “You can’t cook, sweetie, it’s not a matter of won’t.”

Rose scoffs but does not disagree, until—

“I can manage mac ‘n’ cheese,” she says, lips pursed. “I can make a really good packet mac ‘n’ cheese.”

Luisa’s eyes her, dubious. “You want mac ‘n’ cheese?”

“I do.”

“You want to make us mac ‘n’ cheese out of a box for Christmas Dinner?”

“That’s right.”

“Huh.”

Rose wets her lips and instantly regrets it. Her ears are beginning to ring from the cold.

“Will you eat it, if I do?”

Luisa snorts and nods her head.

“At this point, I’d take peanut butter on toast. Come on, though, let’s get inside before you freeze to death. Popsicle isn’t on the menu tonight.”

As she says it, she untangles Rose’s arms from around her shoulders and ushers her toward the balcony door.

Shivering, Rose shakes her head, taking Luisa’s hands in hers and halting any further movement. At her girlfriend’s confusion, she presses a kiss to each gloved palm, and then her face. Luisa shivers at the feeling of her mouth, cold and wet, against her own. When she draws back, there’s a light in Rose’s eye – a twinkle in the corner, like a star that’s emerged from behind a slow-drifting cloud – that gives her pause.

“I love you,” Rose tells her, all hot, visible breath and a smile so tender that Luisa bites back the urgency to get them both inside, if just to bask in the warmth that is Rose’s unwavering adoration. “I love you so much. If I could change things—” She sighs. She can’t, and so she discards the thought, with effort. “I’m sorry it isn’t everything you deserve. I’m going to do better, Lu, I mean it.”

Luisa bites the inside of her lip, blinking back the glaze of moisture in her eyes – it only attracts the cold.

“We both are,” she promises, sniffing. “Please, can we go inside now?”

Rose laughs and nods her head.

When Luisa next tries to save her from the cold, she gives no protest, and they step hand-in-hand back into the warmth.

[baroquebucky]

don’t worry baby

when you overthink, bucky is there to reassure everything will be okay

wordcount: 1.3k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs hope u are all doing well <33 this is just v soft and comforting and just self indulgent,,, let me know what you guys think :] inspired by this song ! if u guys ever need to talk to anyone i am here for u guys always my beloveds

You always tried to be strong around bucky, knowing he needed you to comfort him when things were rough, when he found himself wondering if he was just James bucky barnes or if he was still the winter soldier.

Bucky always made it known that he was there for you, making sure that you knew he would be waiting with open arms if you needed him. You always told him that you were fine, everything was okay and he shouldn’t worry his pretty head.

You were stubborn, always wanting to deal with your problems alone and be independent. Bucky hated it, he respected the fact that you were independent, making it clear you could survive on your own.

“i can deal with it myself buck” you would scoff, taking a deep breath before rubbing your eyes and focusing back on your work.

“i know you can darling, but you don’t have to” he spoke softly, you knew he just wanted to help, but you had a thick skull and were too independent for your own good.

“I don’t need your help barnes, leave me alone” you snapped, bucky wasn’t upset or hurt at your words, knowing it was just the stress getting to you. So he just sighed and walked out of the room, sitting on the couch and petting alpine in his lap while you worked silently.

Not even 30 minutes later his heart broke. He could hear a soft sob over the sound of the tv, after debating if he should do something or not, he gently set down alpine and turned off the tv, walking over to the door and listening to make sure he wasnt wrong.

You were staring at the computer screen, stressed knowing you still had so much to do in such little time, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you choke back sobs, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from letting any noise out. Bucky could hear your soft hiccups, his heart aching.

He opened the door quietly and you heard his footsteps, making you wipe away at your cheeks in hopes of suddenly getting rid of any signs that pointed to you crying.

“doll” bucky spoke softly, standing next to you as he looked at you.

“don’t” you spoke sharply, “I’m fine, i have work to do” your voice was filled with venom, wanting him to leave you alone. Bucky wasn’t going to, knowing you just needed some reassurance.

“darling please” his voice was gentle as he squat down, looking up at you and placing his hand on yours, “look at me.”

You knew the second your eyes met his blue ones your walls would come crashing down. You knew you wouldn’t be able to push away all the stress anymore. But you did it anyway, eyes already welling with tears before you made eye contact.

“what is it angel?” His voice was feathery and warm, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying when he asked, hands flying to cover your face.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to save your work and shut your laptop, scooping you up from your chair and taking you into his arms, carrying you into your shared bedroom and placing you onto the bed gently.

Bucky let you cuddle into him, your face buried into his neck as you cried, he rubbed your back gently, cooing softly to calm you down.

“you’re okay i got you” he whispered, “im right here sweets let it out” he was patient, letting you cry for as long as you needed.

You finally pulled away, eyes red and puffy and nose pink, sniffling and rubbing at your eyes. He handed you tissues and you thanked him softly, blowing your nose and heading to the restroom to wash your hands and face before slipping into bed next to him once again.

“do you wanna talk about it?” bucky asked, he wasn’t pushy about it, voice still soft and comforting.

“everything is just building up in me” you started, fiddling with the dog tags that rested on his chest. “i just feel like there’s so much i have to do and i don’t have the time to do it all.” You waited for bucky to say something but he was silent, giving you time to let it all out.

“there’s so many things i wanna do and achieve and i feel like I’m not doing enough and I’ll never be able to achieve all my dreams and I’m gonna have to settle for what i have and-” you hiccuped as you wiped your tears away, angry at yourself for crying. “i don’t know i just can’t take it all i don’t wanna do this anymore” you whispered, eyes focusing on the dog tags in your hands.

Bucky was quiet, holding you tightly and letting you calm down before speaking up.

“do you want me say anything or just cuddle” he asked, not wanting to over step and make you uncomfortable.

“say something please” you replied quietly, glancing up at him. Your heart melted as he gave you a soft smile.

“doll, you have so much time ahead of you” he began, still rubbing your back as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, “the path to get where you wanna be isn’t linear, it’s long and it’s twisting and turning and changing every second, but that’s just life” you frowned slightly.

“you have so many people that support you and care for you, you’re stressing out over small things and not looking at the big picture” he smiled. “you’re crying over something that in the long run isn’t going to mean anything, what is it?” He asked.

“an essay and two homework packets” you mumbled, realizing quickly how dramatic you had been.

“didn’t you say your professor drops two homework grades? and didn’t you say your essay grades would get curved?” He asked, knowing he was right because he took a look at your syllabus for the class.

“well yes but-” you tried to argue but he stopped you.

“no buts, you’re going to be fine baby, you have so much ahead of you, you can’t get worked out over tiny bumps in the road” he smiled. “you still have time to achieve what you want, there’s always enough time” he assured you, “tony is connected to so many people and I’m sure steve has some friends owing him a favor and the amount of time you’ve helped them both out is too many to count” he laughed and you smiled slightly.

“don’t worry baby, everything will turn out alright” his eyes shining as you smiled at him. He kissed your forehead gently.

“i guess you’re right but still” you tried to argue back but he stopped you.

“doll” his voice was stern and his gaze was sharp, “i promise you it’ll be okay” his grip around you tightening and you let out a shaky breath, nodding as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax.

“thank you james” you whispered and he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m here for you no matter what doll” he replied and you giggled.

“even when i yell at you to leave me alone?” You teased and he smiled, happy you were feeling better already.

“especially when you yell at me” he shot back and you, thanking the universe that you had bucky in your life.

Bucky let you cuddle into him for a bit longer, wanting you be relaxed so you didn’t start crying again before softly prompting you to get up so you could start on your work.

“I’ll help you with your homework and you can start with your essay, how does that sound?” He proposed and you nodded, a smile on your face as you kissed his cheek gently.

“I love you so much” you spoke as he carried you to where all your work was, pink dusted his cheeks as the words rolled off your tongue.

“i love you more doll” he replied, kissing you softly on the lips before setting you down in your chair and patting you on the head softly. “now, let’s kick this works ass, yeah?”

[eeveevie]

Cullen/inquisitor marriage proposal

from this list

I’ve written a few different proposals for these two, so I tried something a little different here. The letter referenced here by Eirlys is this.

Cullen x Aurelie Trevelyan 

792 words (under a cut) | Ao3

Lady InquisitorHerald of AndrasteAurelie Rutherford? Dearest Sister;

I suppose it is arelief to not have to carry around those numerous titles anymore. Word of theExalted Council reached the Free Marches long before your letter did. I have toadmit, I was fearful of your survival until I saw your signature with my owneyes. Considering the last letter I had received from you was about your marriage,you can understand the whirlwind of emotions I was going through. I may haveset a few barrels of hay on fire.

I am glad you aresafe.

I am also still indisbelief that you are a married woman. I’m sure Cullen has already shared theletter I sent him containing my congratulations and support. I understand thatit was an impromptu decision while in Orlais, but I am hoping that you’dconsider throwing a larger party. Not that I need an excuse to come see you,but considering I missed out on meeting all of your fabulous companions whilstthe Inquisition was active, I’d love a chance to see you surrounded by so manythat love you.

Consider this meinviting myself to whatever you decide to do.

Love, Eirlys

Aurelie smiled as she read over the letter again, thankfulher sister’s words had reached her. It had been addressed to Skyhold, but mostof the Inquisition had moved on over the last few months. It must have beenforwarded by whoever was watching over Leliana’s—Divine Victoria’s—ravens, ensuring that any correspondence was sentto the scattered former members. For Aurelie and Cullen, they were still inSouth Reach, visiting with his family who had taken them in with open arms. Miahad been adamant that they could stay as long as they needed, until the twocould find their own place to call home.

Her sister’s words resonated with her. She too, couldn’tbelieve that she and Cullen were married.It really was a spur of the moment thing, Cullen proposing in the middle of theWinter Palace. Aurelie really wouldn’t have had it any other way—a privateceremony that they would treasure forever. That being said, the events atHalamshiral tainted the happy memory.

As if on cue, her left arm radiated with pain, causing herto flex an invisible muscle. Aurelie glanced down to where her hand—the anchor—usedto be. She could still feel it, and yet, notfeel it at the same time. Dorian had explained it to her as a phantom pain that could linger for yearsto come. Unsettling, but a price she was willing to pay for her survival. Shewas alive, and content.

She shifted her attention to where Cullen was standing infront of Mia’s home, tossing a stick away from him so that their mabari, Scout,could fetch it. This is what her life would be like now, and she was gratefulfor it. As much as she missed the thrill of adventure, she would give up herdaggers forever if it meant living a quiet life with her husband until the end of their lives.

“Cullen,” she called out as she thought about the letteragain. Eirlys was right—they hadmissed out on an extravagant party to celebrate their union. Maybe it wasn’ttoo late. Then they could have theirquiet little life in a Ferelden cottage. She was already grinning just thinkingabout it.

“I know that look,” Cullen responded as he approached. Scouttrotted after him, stick in mouth. “What are you thinking about?”

Aurelie tilted her head up to look at his face from hersitting position. “Will you marry me?”

“What?” he responded, clearly surprised by her question. Heraised an eyebrow. “Aurelie, we already…”

“I know,” she laughed at his confusion. She reached out withher right hand to grab his left, her thumb brushing over the silver band he woresignifying just that. “I was thinking we could do it again.”

Cullen titled his head. “I’m afraid I’m not following yourtrain of thought here, dear.”

Aurelie softly chuckled, shaking her head in her own disbelief.She knew it sounded strange. “Let’s have a second wedding. With all our familyand friends.”

“Somewhere we both like?” Cullen asked, his lips twitchingup into a smile. Not a real answer, but Aurelie’s heart fluttered in excitement.She nodded.

“No stuffy Orlesians,” she agreed. “I can wear a dress thatwasn’t borrowed last minute.”

“That sounds…” Cullen let out a breathy laugh. “That soundswonderful.”

Aurelie was beaming, but still glanced up at himexpectantly. “You haven’t answered me, Cullen,” she reminded him. “Will youmarry me? Again?”

He didn’t hesitate, squeezing her hand tightly in his own. “Yes.”

[pinesconessecrets]

Ice to Meet You

Merry Christmas @ladynightmare12 ! I hope you enjoy the fic!! <: I had a lot of fun with the soulmate AU, since it’s something I’ve always enjoyed. I combined it with the first meetings AU too. Have a great Christmas! <3

****

Wirt had given up on trying to find his soulmate when he was thirteen. He still remembered the conversation that came after he mentioned it to his mom. She had choked on her tea, wheezing until she’d managed to regain control of herself again. Then began the spiel about, “Oh, sweetie. You’ll meet her at some point in your life, don’t give up now!” and Wirt just sighed. Internally, of course. He didn’t want to upset his mom any further. A good bit of everyone in his grade had found their soulmate, leaving Wirt feeling terribly alone. Sara tried to comfort him, except she ran into her soulmate a few months later; it was some guy named Brian. That was a fun day.

He was a little more than relieved to graduate high school, which meant moving away to a college in a different state. A college in Oregon had caught his eye and he applied, half expecting to get denied. But lo and behold, the college actually accepted him and even had a full ride scholarship too.

Greg was against Wirt moving across the country when he broke the news. Wirt reassured him that he would call every day and keep in touch. He wouldn’t be left out just because Wirt didn’t live in the same house anymore.

Wirt enjoyed the trip to Oregon. His parents rented a small u-Haul for the stuff Wirt could take to put in his dorm. He was lucky enough to score a single person room, complete with his own bathroom. He didn’t think he could have managed if he had to share a dorm and a bathroom, much less having to suffer from public bathrooms.

They made the drive out to be like a mini vacation, taking their time since they left a few days early. Wirt’s nerves almost got the best of him a few times, the realization of him living somewhere that wasn’t with his mom and stepdad. Thankfully Greg managed to quickly distract him before he grew too anxious, eerily able to quickly figure out when his nerves were beginning to act up.

With the help of everyone, it didn’t take long before Wirt’s room was set up. He still had a few things to tweak here and there, like moving his desk closer to the window and hanging up his poems on the walls. He didn’t have much time to be particularly picky about how his room was set up with his parents and brother around.

They stayed in town for a few days, exploring the place with Wirt in tow. It definitely was a college town considering the absurd amount of fast food restaurants around. Like seriously, who needed this many fast food places? At least there were a few cafes for Wirt to hang out in. Cafes were pretty sweet places to chill at and they had a great effect on Wirt when it came to writing poetry. He was excited about that.

Tears were shed by his mom and Greg on the day they had to leave. Greg made Wirt promise to call him every day, and that was a rock fact. Wirt lingered in the parking lot for a bit longer than he intended, staring off into space before letting out a long sigh. He hoped he would be able to survive the semester before Christmas break. His next adventure in life had begun, only to bring challenges he had no way to prepare for.

Wirt got to studying diligently when the semester began. The majority of his classes were the core classes every freshman were required to take, including math. Thank god that he only needed to take two semesters of it due to his major in English. Math was one of his most detested classes; it was the worst. Maybe he was being overly dramatic, but Wirt would rather prefer to listen to someone scrape their nails on a chalkboard repeatedly for hours than be stuck in math class for even an hour. The entire point was above him, and the fact that other kids were majoring in math just blew his mind. They were to be feared.

The semester started out slow but picked up steam as the weeks went on. Midterms came and went, letting Wirt breathe a sigh of relief when his passing grades were posted.

He video called Greg before he went out trick or treating on Halloween, both happy and mortified that Greg decided to go as a garden gnome. Their trip to the Unknown was still very present in their minds years after it happened. At least now it was easier to deal with, and they didn’t have to worry about being sent into a fit of panic when winter rolled around anymore. Wirt admitted that Greg wore the outfit far better than he did, earning a protest of “No, you wore it better!” from Greg. They bickered back and forth until their mom told them to knock it out or else Greg wouldn’t be getting any candy that year. That shut Greg up and he hastily told Wirt goodbye and that he’d show him how much candy he got before going to bed.

Wirt found himself growing progressively more stressed as the end of the semester rolled around. His professors shoved study guides down their student’s throats and made it very clear that passing their finals would make or break their grades. Wirt found himself spending more and more time at his favorite cafe. He would have been surprised that he hadn’t drunk all of their tea if he wasn’t so stressed about passing his finals.

A week before finals, the unthinkable happened.

Wirt was on his way to the Jasmine Brew Cafe, lost in thought about his upcoming math final. It was the one he dreaded the most, and rightfully so. Other students in his class struggled as much as he did. The professor didn’t know how to break down the lesson so other kids could understand what he was trying to teach. Wirt barely managed to understand what the heck he was talking about most the time, and he hoped it would be enough.

Of course, the dork was so lost in thought that he wasn’t watching where he was walking. His foot made contact with frozen ice on the sidewalk, causing him to slip and fall down to the pavement. Wirt miraculously held onto his notebooks, laying on his back, winded from his fall.

Someone with unruly brown hair peered down at him with a look of mild concern. Wirt wished he could turn invisible because he knew that everyone around him saw what just happened.

“Hi there. It’s ice to meet you finally.” The other boy paused, before continuing. “I hope that’s not weird? I’ve seen you around campus before and I noticed you were always alone and I was going to say hi but I always got distracted and oh my god I’m sorry I’m kinda rambling. I tend to do that a lot and my sister always punches me and yep I’m gonna shut up now.”

Wirt’s wrist burned. That was what his stupid soulmate mark said. ‘Hi there, it’s ice to meet you finally.’

He wanted to say something witty back, but all that could come out of his mouth was, “Was that a motherfucking pun?” He rarely cussed, but dangit he was sleep deprived and angry that he was stupid enough to fall and slip on ice.

The other boy blanched, his extended hand frozen in shock. Wirt shuffled to his feet, clutching his notebooks to his chest. An awkward silence enveloped the two, only to be broken by the other boy.

“Do you want to go somewhere warm? Get some coffee or something?”

Wirt broke free of his surprise. “Uh, um, sure. I was heading to the Jasmine Brew Cafe to get some studying done. It’s right up the street here.”

“Cool. I’ve only been there once or twice, so lead the way.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at Wirt expectantly.

“Right.” Wirt turned on his heels and began walking to the cafe, fidgeting with the spiral of a notebook. He knew that he was probably acting slightly like a jerk. Okay, a lot like a jerk. He had spent the majority of his teenage years resenting the idea of soulmates, knowing he’d never find his and that he’d live the rest of his life alone. But look what happened. He ran into his soulmate.

The rush of warm air made Wirt feel grateful for heating, heading to his usual spot by the wall. He sat with his back to the wall, and a large window to his left. Being able to look out into the street helped declutter his mind.

He almost relaxed, until the other boy - his soulmate - slid into the chair across from him. He looked as nervous as Wirt was.

“I’m Dipper, by the way. I don’t think I introduced myself yet.”

“Wirt. It’s um, nice to meet you, I guess,” he mumbled, his awkwardness hitting him like a fricking train. Now that the fact that yep, him finding his soulmate was a thing, was starting to sink in, a feeling of panic also begun to set in too.

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re freaking out there a little. I mean, I’m kinda freaking out too, but that’s because I’m super pumped to have finally run into my soulmate.” Dipper looked giddy almost.

Wirt chewed on a nail. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I gave up on finding my soulmate years ago, so I never thought I would actually run into them. I hope you don’t think I’m a jerk or anything because oh my god I feel so bad for being cold to you.”

When Dipper was silent, Wirt looked up to find him holding back a snicker. With the biggest shit eating grin, Dipper replied, “Was that a motherfucking pun?”

“Oh my god.” Wirt groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Do not use my own words against me.”

“Kinda hard to considering they’re right here.” Dipper rolled his sleeve back, revealing the words scrawled across his arm. God, they were even in Wirt’s own handwriting. How crazy was that?

Wirt reached out to touch the words on Dipper’s arm, stopping short once he realized what he was about to do. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot to take in. But I don’t mind if you wanna take a closer look at them.” His voice was quiet.

Figuring that he may as well roll with the punches, Wirt pulled his own sleeve back, exposing Dipper’s godawful pun written on the inside of his forearm. Dipper didn’t hesitate before running his fingers over Wirt’s pale skin, tracing the scratchy letters of his own handwriting. It looked different from his own, his letters rushed and hurried versus the flowing loops of Wirt’s.

Wirt finally caved and traced the words on Dipper’s arm. The two dorks sat in silence, no words needing to be exchanged as they let the importance of the day truly sink in.

The corners of Dipper’s mouth quirked up in a grin after a while. “So, did you wanna get a coffee and chat? And maybe tell me how you’ve bean all these years.”

Wirt had a feeling the puns weren’t ever going to stop.

[larissaloki]

This is my first installment on a rare pair ship M’Baku x Tony x Bucky. A/b/o verse. M’Baku is an alpha same asBucky and Tony is an Omega. Updates for this will be slow but if you like this fic leave a comment and I’ll see which of my stories get the most interest. Once I’ve finished my walking avengers fic I’ll focus on another.

@thoughtfulbreadpolice @seven-oomen @im-tops-bottom @winteriron-trash here you go!

Sharing is caring-

~~~~~~~

Humming Tony checked his phone for any message from Pepper, nothing major really was sent to him. Just a few meetings reports, condensed down enough to get just the important details across. He idly skimmed them, asking Friday to make a note once landed and settled in a private room, to go through them more fully. For now, the notes looked promising for their expansion in China and Japan. Both cities with a lot of people could benefit greatly from clean energy. They were in midst of negotiating of setting up the system there to help make their cities greener.so far Japan surprisingly was much more eager to join in.

Which leads to Tony’s little field trip that he’s on now. T’Challa and Shuri have asked him to help introduce Wakandan tech to the world. Not that T’Challa needed the help really, but it looked good to the council and the press that the two were working together. Of course people where still weary and where calling out for the king to be weary of Stark due to his past business, but it wasn’t enough of an outcry too cause to much damage to their stocks.

After T’Challa’s declaration to open the boarder, many had been skeptical as to what Wakanda could offer the world. T’Challa had a plan though. He had brought buildings and was doing work right now to share technology and open trades. The first to establish trades was Tony. Well, more T’Challa was the first to reach out to him. Understanding that Tony wanted to make the world safer and cleaner.

The trade was under a few conditions though, any plans Tony had involving tech and materials from Wakanda had to be approved by T’Challa and his council first before being implemented. Seeing as the primary material was Vibranium, it was no wonder the King was anxious about how it would be used. One of the other stipulations was that Tony had to visit the country and learn about Vibranium, work with it in a controlled environment that could cope with any mishaps. Learn from Princess Shuri how to safely transport it and such.

Tony had all but launched himself at his car shouting down his phone to prep a jet and replying back to T’Challa that he was on his way that instant. Tony was eager to learn, eager to see the genius mind behind most of the modern creations in Wakanda. He wanted to see with his own eyes the country that could better the whole world.

At first, Pepper had been furious at Tony skipping out on a meeting but, once learning the purpose of his trip she had calmed and assured him she would cover for him. Seeing the major benefit of Tony going just as well as he had.

Smiling to himself, Tony leaned back in his luxurious seat sipping some flavoured sparkling water Tony allowed his eyes to close. Above head, the intercom pinged as the pilots’ voice came across.

“We are fast approaching Wakanda Mr Stark, about 5 minutes before landing-“

The plane rocked violently as something hit it. Above the seats, oxygen masks fall for the passengers. Tony slowly makes his way towards the nearest chair, the rock in and shuddering of the plane making hi nearly fall over several times. Of all the times to leave his suit behind, fully believing he wouldn’t need one and also partly because he was in that much of a rush to the plane in NY that he had forgotten it.

Now, Tony was regretting leaving it behind in the compound.

“Please don’t crash, please don’t crash…” Buckling himself into his seat, Tony fumbled for his phone calling for Friday for information on what happened. He barely heard two words from the A.I before the plane took a sharp downward turn, it threw him back into his seat with a curse as he accidentally dropped his phone. The Omega clutched at the armrests of the chair, he had a bad feeling in his gut that no one was alive in the cockpit of the plane. All Tony could do was hope and pray either he survived the fall or received a quick death.

Tony had a thought as to what could have possibly of hit them when the plane began to tumble over and over, shuddering and jolting as it hit things in its decent. The next few moments where a blur for the Omega, he wouldn’t have been able to recall them if he tried. All he recalls is intense terror than a sharp pain to his leg and side before everything goes black.

~~~~~

M’Baku was watching the young Omega princess work on the newest broken Alpha white boy, also known by the children below as, White Wolf. At first, before M’Baku had earned his place among the tribes, he had been sceptical of the teen Omega genius. After seeing her work in person though, he was willing to admit he had been wrong in his judgement.

She had worked near relentlessly on trying to remove the triggers for the Winter Soldier. After a few tense months, Stark had sent information on his BARF, notes on it and how he made it. To see if it could help them. He had even given them details on how to contact Helen Cho. An expert on squishy science. Together they had come up with theories which Shuri had adjusted and altered her machines and such to make these theories work. Slowly she worked through Bucky’s mind; with his permission; to undo the power of the trigger commands. Rendering them useless.

Shuri has just finished the last command after weeks of working on it. They took breaks between each word and tried it to see if it affected him. So far they have been successful. After this last word, Bucky could be taken out of Cryo completely, allowed to slowly be let back among others to get used to life again.

Next, to him, T’Challa stood silently, observing the procedure. Despite the success so far he refused to left guards drop in case anything set back their progress. He won’t relax until this is completed. Around the room is 5 other Dora Milaje as well as them. All placed out of the way but able to move at a moments notice.

Above Barnes is a hologram of his body and brain which Shuri is looking at as she works on another screen. Carefully moving and directing her machines that are attached to Barnes’ head.

It’s a tense 2 hours before Shuri finally sighs and shuts down the machines with a pleased grin. Turning the princess nods at her brother.

“I’m done brother, your broken white boy I finally fixed. Though I do like this one, can I keep him?”

“No Shuri, you can not, I dare say Roger’s wouldn’t be pleased.”

Pouting, Shuri takes off the tabs that are connected to Barnes as he wakes up, blinking confused for a moment. T’Challa moves to stand by the chair/bed, watching Barnes carefully.

“How do you feel?”

Licking his lips Barnes seems to look down at his lap. “Better, I don’t feel so…tense” nodding, T’Challa starts to recite the words he had memorised by heart now. Barnes tenses as he always does when they do this part. However, apart from the initial tensing, there was no reaction. They waited a few moments but when Barnes felt no change, he looks up in wonder yet gratefulness.

“Y-You did it…”

Puffing up proudly behind her brother, Shuri comes closer now satisfied there’s no danger. “You’re all clear. The Winter Soldier cannot be used as a weapon ever again.”

“So he’s completely gone?...”

At this Shuri pauses as if considering her next word carefully. “We are not entirely sure, I believe experiences are still in there, memories. Things that will bleed over to you. Such as skills, but you have free will now. Think of it as a merge? We only really removed the triggers.”

“Thank you, truly” Barnes looked between them all gratefully. The sump where his left arm was is wrapped up with a dark rich blue cloth to hide the area from scrutiny. Barnes was truly indebted to these people who have not only, given him a safe haven to rest and relax but they have helped him become him again. Whatever he was now. He knows he’s not the Bucky from the 1940’s anymore. No matter how much Steve wished for him too. He was also no longer the Ghost Assassin of Hydra.

He had the freedom to become him again. Choose who he wanted to be.

And he had every intention of not fighting again for a long as he could help it.

M’Baku looked him over from his place by the wall still. He and Barnes haven’t interacted much due to him being mostly in cryo and the fact that too many Alphas around at once had made him skittish. What he did now he had gotten through stories from others. He had heard about the smooth charming Brooklyn Alpha from before the war. The Alpha that could charm a fish out of water effortlessly, who could make Betas and Omegas alike, swoon on the dance floor.

Soft quiet moments like this, M’Baku could only see a shy quiet man who just wants to be left alone to live peacefully. It’s not until he smiles that M’Baku gets a glimpse of the person from those stories. The endearingly soft smiles that make you warm inside when the smile is directed at you. Prompting you to smile back. The puppyish look in his blue eyes as Barnes tilts his head as he talks. Even that ridiculously soft brown hair that practically begs to be petted. A few times M’Baku had to refrain from reaching out to touch the fluffy strands. It was simply unfair. Since his wife who had died a few years back, leaving him and their children, M’Baku hadn’t so much as glanced at another. But Barnes was somehow changing that.

Another that had caught his interest was the Omega, Stark. The first time he had seen him in a video conference, M’Baku had to psychically bite his tongue, lest he says something stupid. The smaller man had been Devine to look at as he worked in his lab in the video. Soft dark brown hair gently curling at his ears and neck. Goggles pushed back on h forehead so he could see them, molten chocolate brown eyes had looked at them inquisitively, but M’Baku could see a spark of mischief as well. Just seeing his face and arms had been torture enough but the moment Stark had stood to retrieve something off screen giving them a glimpse of his ass and legs. M’Baku had to cough to cover for the small groan that had escaped. Going by Okoye’s small smirk. He hadn’t been too successful at hiding it.

For days after that video conference, Starks plush ass and perfect legs had been on his mind and starred in his dreams. He just wanted to grope at that ass and possibly bite it to leave his mark. The jeans Stark had been wearing had shown off all those delicious curves leaving M’Baku wanting.

Upon learning that T’Challa was reaching out to work with Tony on more future projects, M’Baku had none too subtly been bugging T’Challa to introduce him to Stark. He wanted to meet the genius. Perhaps try his hand at Wooing his into his bed. After looking up the man, M’Baku could agree that the man needed a god damn break from shit. Both Stark and Barnes just needed a break from shit life threw at them. And what more perfect way than in the middle of nowhere in Wakanda?

Grinning M’Baku pictured the Stark heir trying to climb a tree. Unaware that the room was looking at him oddly when he started chuckling to himself.

T’Challa was the one bravest to step forward. “M’Baku? What’s so funny?”

“Huh?” Coming back to focus, M’Baku looked around to see the stares and grinned. “Was just imagining T’Challa in crocodile-infested waters,” his grin grew wider at Barnes look of alarm, a few of the Dora looked mildly alarmed as well but stayed still as Okoye and T’Challa shook their heads amused. Shuri grinned outright at him, “did you yet him in?”

“Shuri please…” T’Challa groaned at his sister. Before any more words could be shared the palace shook slightly, a boom from a distance could be heard. Alert T’Challa ran to the nearest window, looking outside. To the distance just inside their borders, they could see a plane crashing down towards the trees and rivers below. M’Baku managed to catch a glimpse of the name on the side of the small plane. Stark.

Immediately, T’Challa shouted out commands for people to be sent to check the wreckage for any survivors. Also for someone to find out who had shot down that plane.

[spookgeist]

Oh my gosh I can’t believe im actually posting this, I’m such a chicken with showing people writings, but feel free to read this tome I have written of Circe x Deimos’ first interaction as Guardians. 

There was a mystery below.

Not in the usual, large glowing drooling pile of dead things sort of way, but in the ‘what is this strange lump of cloth that wasn’t there yesterday’ kind of way.

Deimos squinted down at a pile of cloth that seemed to be capped in a fresh Guardian’s helm. Of course the day he forgot his binoculars was the one day something interesting would happen.

Typical, he thought to himself.

“You’re making that face again.” His small ghost, Phobos, whirred over his shoulder from their spot atop the vast metal complex in Old Russia they had claimed as their own. She was staring at him. “It’s not a good look.”

He screwed up his face in offense.

“What face?” He scoffed and looked away. “This is just my face. Don’t be mean because you’re jealous you don’t have one.”

“You should have brought your binoculars if you were so intent on taking that darn helmet of yours off. You’re squinting, keep doing that and you’re going to end up with wrinkles like Zavala.”

“Well, half the tower wants to get into his armor, so honestly it could be worse.” Deimos smirked at her, pushing away a stray hair that had fallen out of its rightful place. “Besides those helmets mess my hair up.”  

Deimos took her in his hands and moved her in front of his face, so she could see what he was seeing.

“How about you help me instead of picking on me, eh?” He said close to her small form, close enough he could feel a slight buzz in his teeth. “I don’t cause you too much trouble usually, right?”

“Are you serious---?” She screeched.

“Now, my dear,” He continued, ignoring her protests, “Do you happen to know what the hell that is?”

A group of Eliksni sat a few meters away on their pikes, binoculars up to their eyes, chittering away to one another. The scrappers seemed to be just as interested in the strange shape in the distance as he was.

“Oh look, they remembered their binoculars.” She whirred.

Deimos glared at the back of her shiny little body.

“I’m not entirely sure what it is, to be honest.” She examined the form sulking under the archaic Golden Age plane. “My best guess would be a body, I’m sure even you and your little Awoken eyes can see the shiny bit is a helmet.” Deimos rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, definitely a body,” She continued, “Probably a dead one. It wasn’t there when we were here yesterday, I can tell you that much.”

“Hm.” Deimos sniffed unimpressed into the air, enjoying boldly sitting in the open without a helmet. He produced a fruit from his backpack and shined it on his robe. “You’re probably right.”

He had seen more and more of this lately, young Guardians rezzed for the first time only to be put down immediately. It made his stomach turn if he thought too much about it.

The crunch of teeth into a crisp apple seemed to echo off the complex, startling a few birds off the heaps of planes from the golden age. The Eliksni looked around for the source of the sound for a moment, but eventually turned their attention back to their potential prize.

The fruit was good, Deimos was pleased to discover. The air was crisp with Autumn that morning when he had set out for the day and his favorite fruit seller, an old Awoken named Yazil had tempted him.

‘Take one, Guardian, take one for your journey. Freshest in the city.’ He had said, his calloused hand had stretched towards Deimos. His bright fish’s eyes gleaming from under long white hair. He always smiled at Deimos, an attempt at being friendly, but his smile was like a viper’s. He reminded Deimos of the Reef, of home.

The tall Eliksni Captain down below barked something to his underlings, but they were too far for Deimos to hear. He watched with curiosity as they remounted their pikes, the Captain’s furs bristled in the cold. Soon they would be tipped with ice as the harsh Russian winter set in.

His eyes swung back to the body and to his immense displeasure it quivered in response to the whine of the approaching pikes.

“Oh hell…” Deimos groaned.

“Hey, ya know…” Phobos fidgeted nervously. “I’m getting the feeling that body wasn’t quite as dead as I was thinking before….”

“Yeah, I'm getting that feeling too...,” He sighed, taking the last bite of his apple before pulling his helmet on. “Try to patch me through to them.”

As he waited for Phobos to establish a connection he paced, secretly hoping they were both wrong and the helmet’s occupant was indeed void of life (and Light) but he knew better. He couldn't speak for himself, but Phobos was rarely wrong.

A click came from the other end of the com and with that he knew his hopes of a quiet afternoon treasure hunting was not to be had.

Always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Phobos had retreated to her hiding spot in his backpack and he knew by the way she burrowed further in that she was thinking the same thing.

“Guardian, can you hear me?” he sighed more than said.

There was no verbal response but he figured it was safe to assume they heard him. He watched as the Guardian flinched, clearly surprised to hear a stranger's voice in its ear.

A young one. He thought to himself, glancing heavenward and silently praying for the patience he knew this would take.

“Listen, a band of particularly scrappy looking Eliksni on pikes is headed your way, you might want to get up and fight or get out of their way.”

They didn't move.

“Guardian?” He peered down below at the scene unfolding. “You listening?”

The pikes slowed and two Vandals from the front of the pack hopped off to inspect their prey. The first one moved forward fearlessly, poking the Guardian with the blunt end of a shock sword, his companion stood a step back holding his rifle at the ready. Still, the pile did not react.

“You know,” Deimos continued, tossing and catching his apple core as he walked across the roof, lessening the distance between himself and the group. “I think they're just as curious about whether or not you’re actually alive in there as I am.”

The second Vandal moved forward confidently now, pushing up the strange heavy cloak the stranger wore with the barrel of his gun to reveal legs, the end of which were wrapped in strange makeshift boots. These garnered raised brows and a smirk from Deimos.  

“What the hell are you wearing?” He snickered. “What happened to your armor?”

“Be nice…” Phobos warned.

At his Captain's orders the first Vandal slid his short sword into a sheath strapped to his leg and knelt to see what could be salvaged from the body. His head tilted to one side and then the other, like a cat’s as he decided where to begin.

He knew better, but Deimos couldn't help but like them. If nothing else, he understood the desperation that drove them to keep scavenging just to survive.

“Listen, if you're going to sit there and get robbed that's your business, but you need help you gotta say something.”

“Deimos,” Phobos scolded her Warlock. “Go help the poor thing or I will.”

“I'd like to see that.” Inside his helmet a smirk pulled up at the corner of his lips.

He was nearly directly in front of the others now. At this distance he could see the partially exposed gloved hand twitch towards the hand cannon strapped to its leg, seconds before it was pulled out of the holster by the curious Vandal.

“Oh for the love of---”

“Help me, please.” A small voice finally crakled over the com.

About damn time.

Deimos pitched the apple core into the air, dinging it off the Captain's pike, catching the attention of the entire crew of Eliksni. He took a step off the building, and dropped down towards them. They squinted into the sun as he floated calmly down like an angelic messenger from the heavens. A purposely mistossed grenade startled all but the Vandals back to their vehicles, and he heard the hum of the pikes restarting.

They recognized him from his bond and his robes and the panic in the group was palpable. A bittersweet pang struck him as he realized his old reputation had stuck.

The Captain gave a signal and they moved out leaving the two Vandals scrambling for their pikes until Deimos landed between them. He grabbed one by the front of his cape and pitched him towards his pike.

“Go.” Deimos growled, the Eliksni word sounding strange on his Reefborn tongue.

The second Vandal skittered past him, his pike screaming as he followed the others. Deimos' shot after them a few times, careful to aim enough away from them to not land his shots. He knew they’d tell stories of how close to death they had come, not realizing how far from it they really were.

He holstered his gun and turned towards the Guardian.

“I’m a friend, I’m not here to----”

He stopped short, finding himself inches from an unfamiliar Ghost, the Guardian retreating silently into the hull of a rusted out plane. The Ghost puffed himself up, glowing red and sparking.

“Stay away from her.” a surprisingly deep male voice came from the small metal creature. “I'm warning you.”

Deimos' clicked his tongue in response and swatted him away gently, following after the Ghost’s charge.

‘Her’ he had said.

“What, not even a thank you?” Broken bits of Golden Age metal crunched under his feet. “They would have roasted you alive and had you for dinner, you know. They’re not too picky these days.”

She scrambled away from him further into the hull.

“Oy, quit with that!”

“Watch your tone, your voice is too mean. You’re going to scare the poor thing.” Phobos’ voice came gently inside his helmet.

At the back of the plane he caught the stranger by the wrist and pulled her towards a patch of light in the dim space. She was nearly his height, and for a moment he wondered if he hadn’t found himself another Eliksni, but her cloak shifted and he saw a decidedly human shaped torso under her mismatched armor. At first glance she didn't seem to be too damaged. But still she sunk to the ground, shaking beneath his hand.

He sighed, Phobos had been right and it made him sick. He had made enough people afraid of him in his younger years to last him a few lifetimes and then some.

I gotta stop doing this. He bit his lip and took a deep breath before crouching beside her, wincing as she flinched away from him.

“Hey, listen,” Deimos kept his voice as gentle as it’s low tone would allow.

He removed his own helmet and became suddenly aware of the angry whirr of the stranger’s Ghost beside him. He fought the urge to glare over in his direction, keeping his attention on the woman.

“You don't need to be afraid, I'm not here to hurt you.”

She stopped leaning quite so far from him, seeming to respond to his words, or perhaps the face of an Awoken and not some strange creature like the ones she had just encountered.  Deimos reached over and removed her cloak, checking more thouroughly for wounds, she had a few, but nothing too serious.

“A Titan?” She didn’t respond, but it was clear from her armor, bizarre as it was, what she was.

“Let me see you,” He released his grip on her arm and reached for her helmet, but again she flinched away from him.

He hesitated before trying again, casting a glance at Phobos who seemed to have coerced the other Ghost to follow her to the other end of the plane’s hull,  and was now locked in an inaudible discussion with him.

“It's ok,” He reassured her, reached again---slowly this time---for the release on the back of her helmet. “I just want to make sure you're alright. Can I?”

Slowly she nodded and he flicked the release, pulling her helmet off, thick twisted vines of dusty green hair falling around her shoulders. For a moment he couldn’t speak, struck with an emotion that sucked the wind from his lungs.

Her olive skin was bruised on one cheek, her grey eyes ringed in red, from tears or not enough sleep he was not sure. Her lip was busted open, a fresh bloom of vermillion had appeared likely from it splitting back open when she had called out to him for help.

“I’m Deimos.” He said after a long outstretched period of silence. Glittering eyes locked on his own.

“Deee-mos.” She repeated, a thick accent reforming his name in her mouth. He liked it.

Something about it reminded him of dew drops and the smell of fresh flowers buds and the feeling of skin on skin in a cool moonlight night. A strange, unwelcomed sensation rushed into him, forming a lump in his throat.

What the hell is this? He wondered to himself.

It felt different than when he had remembered his sister. He saw her, straight backed and proud from across the Reef. Her golden eyes locked on his own and instantly she had run to him. Long limbs were flung around him as they collided. She had been a stranger to him only moments before, but as he held her angular form tightly, a familiarity he could not shake began to seep into his bones.

“My other half.” She had sobbed into his shoulder. “Finally, I have you back.”

Tears had flowed from his own eyes as he felt the words she had spoken. It was as if one thing had been cleaved in half had begun to knit itself back together. He remembered her hand in his when they were small, the shark’s grin she had when they were up to trouble, all sharp teeth and bright ideas. He remembered her lying by his side in green fields telling him woes of relationships gone wrong, and conversely the joys of the good ones. He remembered her, he remembered nearly everything.

But this, this was something different. It was there in front of him, he could see it in the distance, but like a falling star, he could not catch it.

“Your name?”

She watched him hesitantly, her eyes clouded and stormy with worry for the briefest of moments. Perhaps, he thought, it was the fear of the finalement of a connection. She could walk away now and they would never see each other again, nothing but her Ghost binding her to this world. He knew that feeling, it was the feeling of calling out to the storm, the lightning flickering over your skin, uncertain if was bringing or taking life.

“Circe.” She whispered at last and the storm within him brewed.

“Circe?” He tested, her name on his tongue felt familiar, the taste of it like the summer rain.

“It's a good name.” He managed awkwardly after a moment, tearing his eyes from hers.  “It suits you.”  

This one's gonna be trouble for me.

[aftgexchange]

Pinch hits #6-24

Pinch-hits are up!

These are all the prompts that were unfilled because their person dropped out or hasn’t posted their gift, and a pinch-hit is when someone volunteers to pick it up so no one is left without a gift

Please only volunteer if you can finish a pinch-hit within the next week (by the 19th Dec)

You don’t have to have signed up for the exchange to pick one

First come, first serve

Send me an ask with the # you’d like and I’ll let you know who it’s for

Minimum requirements for each kind of gift are here

All claimed, thank you!!

#6 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons, Playlist Andreil, kandreil, jerejean, rikev, twindreil, any ichirou ship... basically any but Renison, that one's just not my thing. Raven aus, dark aus w/o character death, hurt/comfort or angsty fluff, but anything lbr NSFW is fine

Would not like: Character death or Renison   #7 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons Andreil, jerejean, Matt and Dan. Platonic foxes or Trojans Hypothermia (with bed sharing) First snowfall with the cats Neil's first real Christmas NSFW is fine

Would not like: No kandreil. No Riko without comeuppance. No non con or bdsm   #8 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits Andrew, Aaron, Neil, Jeremy, Jean, Andrew x Neil, Aaron x Katelyn, Jeremy x jean, anything about the foxes in general 1) The twinyards coming to a resolution - can be about their relationship in general or a given situation in which they need to come together 2) Andrew and Neil - long distance. Maybe they can't see each other over the Christmas period due to scheduling, they make it work 3) Jean intending to spend his first Christmas out of the nest alone, the Trojans show him that that's not a possibility 4) Any au situation where Andrew and Neil meet for the first time. Can be outside of college, can be in a high school setting or just after graduation (could even be in a college setting but can't be Exy related) 5) The foxes doing something for Neil that he doesn't expect. Andrew going out of his way to make it happen 6) Aaron spending Christmas with Katelyn and away from his family NSFW is fine

Would not like: Kevin x Aaron, Matt x Aaron, Riko as a main character   #9 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons, I have a preference for rare ships. I'm happy to receive anything, but honestly, I have these 'weird' ships like... Seth/Allison/Neil as an example. I just like rare things that look like they'd be interesting to experiment with! I like Barista/Coffeeshop AUs, as often as they crop up. Soulmate AUs, Wingfics, supernatural beings... vampires, werewolves, centaurs. I don't mind I just like them. All and any of them. And obviously, I'm fine with them being in other situations as themselves or as they were in canon. It's fine, I don't mind. NSFW is fine   #10 TAKEN Would like: Art Kandreil (this would make me extremely happy), or I guess Andreil is also good MagicAU or Fantasy AU; SoulmateAU; anything like that (I also really love angst) NSFW is fine   #11 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons Raven!Neil, JereJean, Dan/Matt, Allison/Seth, Katelyn/Aaron, Andreil, Laila/Alvarez, Renee/Jean, Nicky/Erik Raven!Neil (preferably finding/after finding Andrew); any type of recovery (ie Andrew or Neil or Jean accepting their scars); angst ending in fluff (like Jean or Neil explaining how they never celebrated the winter holiday)

Would not like: Riko/anyone, Renee/Allison, Neil/Andrew/Kevin and no explicit nsfw (can be alluded to but nothing more) please.   #12 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons Any of the foxes even Wymack or bee or Abby tbh I'll be happy with anything Maybe neil or Andrew being jealous for the first time in their life? Aaron and katelyn- how they must've started? Or something bout Aaron and Neil becoming friends I live for that. Something with Mary in it? NSFW is fine

#13 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons, Playlist Any ships/characters aside from Riko 1. one of the foxes giving neil an ugly Christmas jumper 2. neil and kevin trying to do a Christmas shop 3. wymack insisting on a team Christmas dinner No NSFW please   #14TAKEN

Would like: Fic, Headcanons, Jerejean!! Andreil, the Trojans -slow burn jerejean -JEREJEAN FIRST TIME -always down for some good nsfw (kinky, soft, normal whatever) -sexual frustration between jerejean or andreil (and then resolved) -angsty with happy ending for either couple NSFW is fine

Would not like: Nothing about riko and any of the characters as a ship, don't like ichirou with any pairing either.. not really looking for kandreil or major character deaths   #15 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Playlist Andreil, Jerejean, Keremy, Kerejean, Jean Moreau, Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten, Jeremy Knox playing with hair, witch au, smiley soft mornings, mermaid au, NSFW is fine No Drake   #16 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons Andrew/Neil, Andrew/Neil/Kevin, Neil/Jean 1. Magical (I.E Neil is a werefox) 2. Andrew is a detective 3. Professor AU (I.E. Andrew is criminal prof, Neil is landuage prof, Nicky is religious, etc)" NSFW is fine

Would not like: Explicit rape, Riko with anyone   #17 TAKEN

Would like: Fic, Headcanons Andrew/Neil or Jean/Jeremy Either a Christmas ski trip with the Foxes and Trojans or maybe just a Christmas party NSFW is fine, no Kevin/Aaron please   #18 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons, Playlist Andrew/jean, Andrew/Neil, Andrew/Kevin/Neil, Jean/Jeremy, Riko, Neil/Matt, Neil/Seth, Neil/aaron holes au where Andrew is Madam Zeroni's great great grandson and Neil is Stanley yelnats  Au where riko isn't killed but instead gets kicked out of exy by ichirou and goes to live in the countryside where he meets a house servant ichrou hires who he falls in love with and they go on cute dates 1920's matt/neil where neil cross dresses as a lounge singer so he can marry matt who play piano and they play at a speakeasy together. NSFW is fine

Would not like: character death non-canon, guro, unhappy ending, dying of old age   #19 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons Andrew, Neil (together or separately), Jeremy and Jean (together or separate), Matt, Kevin, nicky Life before the foxes, life after the foxes, enemies to lovers, little quirks they like their friends to do/to do to their friends (pet names? Casual touching? Sign me tf up), will literally accept anything soft or that will make me cry, or both NSFW is fine

Would not like: Riko in any capacity other than how he affected the character the gift is about. Aaron as a "misunderstood good guy," if it's about Matt please don't make him white (or any of them but Andrew and Jean really but Matt is a hard pass)   #20 TAKEN

Would like: Art, Fic Neil/Andrew ; Kevin Day; Laila/Alvarez ; Nicky Hemmick; Allison Reynolds; Neil&Kevin I prefer canon compliant content for all the following prompts:: Fluff or Brotp stuff ; Fashion (or fashion disaster) ; Camping in Tents NSFW is fine

Would not like:

Moriyamas, angst

#21 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons, Playlist Aaron, Seth, Kevin, Renee, Jean, Nicky Kevin/Aaron Aaron/Katelyn Renee/Jean Nicky/Erik Kevin/Thea Laila/Alvarez Jean/Neil Seth/Allison Seth/Aaron Home alone AU, A lonely Christmas when they're a child and then a Christmas as an adult with the family they made, a family dinner where they're meeting the family for the first time, secret santa au where they got a menial gift but it was always want they wanted as a kid but never got it because of whatever reason, the first winter without having to worry about their survival, hot cocoa and gingerbread house contest No infidelity, NSFW is fine   #22 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Headcanons,  Andreil Coffee shop au!! the foxes catching a glimpse of Andreil softness! Andreil softness in general, Andreil playing pro exy on the same team, foxes' snow day at Palmetto NSFW is fine

Would not like:

Kandreil     #23 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic Any of the Monsters, and ship wise andreil or kevaaron  Tattoo, coffee shop, florist, harry potter, and historical aus are my favorite. Im super into the twins having curly hair and or glasses. Dramatic sassy one liners are the key to my heart! NSFW is fine

Would not like

Focus on side/minor characters, or angst/dark thoughts   #24 TAKEN Would like: Art, Fic, Graphics/Edits, Headcanons, Playlist Andreil, jerejean, renison Soulmate au, fake dating or just something fluffy and/or smut NSFW is fine No mpreg please

[po1ypear1]

take it all as it comes. seize the oportunities. listen to your inner voice, and if you don’t hear it, ask.  

Always: Be greatful for the happiness feelings you feel every single day.

Recognize when the right opportunity is before you and say yes. But if you dont, know the boat will come again, and know your reason for missing it.

Plans and day dreams are nice, but let them be free. Watch out for getting too attatched. We prefer general headings.

Remember watching, “How To Be Single” and feeling like this was your time to enjoy being single while in this stage of self descovery. To remember learning how to date, how to talk to people, and how to hold onto your own identify.

Find and Do No Matter Where You Are:

Play with improv people. join a theater group

Take singing lessons. join a choior

Keep making your moon calanders! Study Astrology.

Pole Play Classes. Dance classes

underground bush doof crew

Everything written here has placed a call to me, and is currently waiting, patiently on hold.

Make movies. Research bus channels. Consider yours.

Act/Perform. Read poetry, stories and speaches to people from mobile sets in character.

Sail home for Christmas

Once Home: Set Some Shit Straight:

Impact Invest! Talk to one of those guys who makes your money make money. 

Sort out your taxes, health care, and province of residing. Get GST number for a small, legit paper trail and to justify the cerb minimum income requirements.

Lazer hair removal.  

Time to Get Your Self Some Nice Things: Good quality solar powered phone charging water proof blue tooth multi speaker linkons portable speaker. 

Books: Anatomy for the artist.  A massive “learn to read the stars” astrology book, total “yoga poses” reference guide.  

go shoping and record the items, review and return later. see how they look through the camera’s eye. find the neck lines you like. thin straps. Try less reveiling necklines, they are destracting, people will look, listen and be enchancted by everything else

.Ask grandma and grandpa a hundred questions.

Watch tissue movies with mom.

Visit Royal Pizza

Organize family activities, skating, toboganing, holrac park. Snowboarding trip?  

Propose bio mobile bus/prototype build to dad  

Have a Dance in Golden and visit kyle…  

First summer with the bio-biel. Climb mountains. Serve A Vapassana.  Learn Gin Shin Do from a master. Visit the landing.

Do you still wanna train hop? this is probably a better sooner then later activity.  

Winter town! Seasonal job. Collect thousands of dollars for passing go.

My Karman Line: Learn about starting a business. Event Organizer/Project Manager. Online Careers. How to become a home care assistant.

Stationary Routine breads clarity and focus. New Places are exciting, stimulating, inspiring, and distracting.

Biofuel Home Bus:

MIDNIGHT IDEA* bus so I dont have to pay rent while going to school/studying to get the job that will allow me to work and live around the world. hense vegabonding after bussing. No roommates, no rent, no part time job money worries, small space, less mess, fewer distractions. I can work part time if I want to, not cause I have to. I can be close to school, no comute, close to my kichen, less money spent eating out. I feel the time for study is getting closer.

I like the idea of bus before boat, cause when I get land the bus is home base while I build. Then the bus is safely left on the property. The boat is a little less safe left in the water.

You’d think I would vegabond before biofuel, but i just got a craving…. then I got an incling, “maybe these arnt one time phases.” cause now i got another thought, I'm back to the vegabond route, but a more "stay-awhilebond" feelin. Like hop into communities with the intensión of staying a while, maybe better with this new "normal" places might want you to quarentine. But, boat life, Bus life, House life, Back-pack life. and they keep heluxing round and round. And there’s always new hobbies, interests, self discoveries and purposes. With constant sweet notes of good food, friendship, discovery. And never ending curiosity.

MIDNIGHT VISION: 1 am, drinkin water by the gallon…. a song comes on. I can’t hold it in. The bus bursts open and I pour my heart out down the empty street. Pirouette’s under street lamp spot lights, broken hearts to car hoods. Coming to an hour latter, looking around, ‘where am I?´ Time to choose a walking home song. A small space will be good for me. Forces me to get outta the house.

There’s no correct order, or direct timeline. Remove the 5 hinderances, and listen to what the moon says is best for you right now. Sailing also sounds better with a crew, thanks to Swell, by Liz Clark.

short cut dotted out with Kyle Button: sail the ports and archipelagos, appartment hop the interiors, build in Canada or the perfect place once it’s found.  

Recycle Sailing Fleet. Bee Bike Troup. The little book of Aquireing Knowledge series. 

Vegabond. Live, Work and Study in so many other countries.You can do this after 35 aswell. You can find amazing work oportunities that don’t require the permit, that will sponsor a permit, that wants to marry you. Or you’ll fit into the specialist or exeption section. You’re not necessarily looking for a typical, need a working vissa job anyway. Plus, some countries might not have this restriction, you never looked for your self.

We were talking with Josie the other day and we got on to the different types of lives on the security-adventure scale. For argument sake, we named 4 main ones. The people who never leave the towns they grew up in, the ones who do but settle some where, the ones who move every so often, keeping it fresh and the ones who never stop, who, say live out of a back-pack or travel the world on a bike, throwing them selves into the unknown. When she spoke of these people, my heart fluttered…..  

House sit, wwooff, work-away when the world alows open travel again. And maybe Do it by bike? As few planes as possible. LIVE in the cities of the world, get to know them, be a part of them. Know the public places, the baker on the courner, where the oldest trees and stairs are.

Entreprenuer. Have your own business. Work for your self. See one note Starters.

Homestead. Own Property out right. I will pay for everything up-front, all the money I save on interest by waiting will be trippled by keeping the money invested till there is more then enough for the propert, land and home development. Enough will be left over, and remain invested, to continue growing at a steady, live a comfortable life and travel as I wish, take what ever courses i wish rate.

Raise your kids here, with stability providing safety. Routine creating tradition that will be imprinted in them for ever, every pumpkin pie will make them feel their childhood in fall, and the excitment of starting school again. Let them grow conected to nature and their food. Atleast till 7. Then ask them what they want to do? wanna go to school in the city? wanna live in a bus and travel across the continent? Wanna live in a boat and sail around the world? Please learn another language, spanish is easy and lots of places different to us. 

Maybe kids raised in a bus or on a boat might could also be a good thing. After rocking Nera to sleep, for only less then an hour, it occured to me, a rocking boat or moving bus would be great right now.

Sail around the world with an electric assist bike and a survival libraray

Return to the nice place, with enough acres for privacy, gardens, animals, out door hot tubs, a green house, all within a food forest and be within walking distance of neighbours and a satisfying community hub. Some people watching spots and art events can be a comfortable scooter ride away. maybe this is the same place as the homestead. Maybe my parents are with my by this point.  

Bio Bus. I’ve been in the office 6 months now, and im starting to want a change. Change just might be my nature. So maybe it’s back to the bus. This time with Gatto, Pero, Pollo, bicicleta and creator machines. Traversing the continent selling soaps, teas, hot snacks wrapped in bees wax at ski hills, soaking potions, spa days at tree planter camps and tickets to movie nights.    

BLUE PRINTS:

Movement Space: soft matt 5x5, to emcompass my whole body’s reach in every angle. hand holds ancored into the floor for traction. ropes hanging from the roof for balance, suport. golf and tenis balls for massage.

Kitchen Hacks: design cooking area to be re-panted every few years cause it gets so dam dirty and change is a must. window sills for herbs to grow. sinks with water spouts that fill in the middle and swivel. counters with an over hang so you can sit. lots of different lighting options. Wooden counter top, i hate the sound of everything clanging on marble 

Ideal Community: lots of greenery, big old trees, bike and walk friendly, inviting public spaces, big enough that I want to go out and be apart of it, that i have places and people to visit and watch. A place with seasons. I don´t want to be hot and itchy all year round. A place where people steward the land, and shape it with Peter Pan’s elegant hands. No generic, shitty, fast food joints, only healthy artisian. Beautiful works of arcitecture harmanizing our day to day with nature. No junk advertisments. 

[ju1ian]

evens for julian and odds for your legion courier (b/c i hate you)

thanks im on my way to your house to kill you !!!! 

evens are gonna be for my Sole Survivor Julian who has a tag on my blog i dont feel like linking but its OC: Julian if yall wanna read up on thatand odds are gonna be for….. Julius, the worst ever!! i regret giving them similar names now ! 

Which Fallout game are they from?-Fallout: New Vegas !! a real trash courier !!

Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?-Julian joined the Brotherhood of Steel and also the Minutemen and he destroyed the Railroad, because he didn’t like them, and The Institute, because he was pissed the hell off at his son. He joined the Minutemen because he wanted to do something nice, and he joined the Brotherhood of Steel because he needed that familiar military aesthetic. 

What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?- S 10, P 2, E 7, C 10, I 2, A 5, L 1 (something like that i cant remember and im not looking at it rn)

Give us a summary of their backstory.- Julian gets discharged from the army for an injury in his shoulder two weeks before the bombs fall, he’s suffering from depression when he returns home and his marriage is sort of going south. He’s also really afraid of being a father because he thinks he’s a bad person incapable of doing anything good. 

What’s their full name and does it have a meaning? Do they have any nicknames and how did they get em?- Julius Septimus is his full name and Caesar gave it to him because he didn’t know what his name was and was just going by Courier. He doesn’t have any friends to give him nicknames but Vulpes calls him Degenerate a lot and he likes it. 

What’s their sexual, romantic, and gender orientation? Do they feel comfortable telling other people?- Julian is Bisexual and Biromantic, he identifies as a male and before the war he was closeted and was very afraid of telling anyone but after the war he is out and proud ! 

Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope?-Julius suffers from Bipolar Disorder and he does not cope very well. 

Do they have any medical conditions? Is medicine/ treatment available for them?- Julian has a bad shoulder but it doesn’t bother him too much. He has depression but there isn’t any real medicine to help him besides chems. 

How much do they care about their outer appearance? What’s their “beauty routine”? How often do they shower/ bathe?- Julius bathes when Vulpes bathes. he likes his hair to be combed without knots but thats all. His outer appearance doens’t mean very much to him. 

What do they fear the most?- Julian fears himself the most. 

They’re biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw?- Julius’ biggest flaw is his stupidity, and he does not see it as a flaw. 

What are they most insecure about?- Julian is insecure about his lips, they are large. 

What Wasteland threat do they fear the most? (ex. Deathclaws, super mutants, raiders)- GOD JULIUS IS TERRIFIED OF DEATH CLAWS AND CENTAURS 

What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most? What are their placements (if you know them)? (ex. Aries sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius Venus)- Julian is a taurus because im a tuarus and i dont know who he would relate tot he most because i dont know that much about zodiac signs 

What’s their Myers–Briggs Type? (ex. ENTP, ISFJ)- i have no idea what this is tbh. 

What Harry Potter house would they be in? (ex. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw)- i didn’t real harry potter !!! all i know is that i myself took the sorting hat thing and got slytherin and since i project onto Julian A LOT he is probably also a slytherin. 

Which Pokemon Go team would they choose? (ex. Instinct, Valor, Mystic)- Julius would have chosen Instinct.

Out of the nine forms of intelligence (rhythmic, spatial, linguistic, mathematical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) which one(s) are they really good at and which one(s) is(are) their weakest?- Julian is good at: rythmic, inguistic, mathematic, and kinesthetic and weak at all the rest. 

What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil)- Julius is chaotic evil without a doubt. 

Do they have any hobbies? What are they?- Julian collects magazines, and also dogs. He loves to spend time with all 8 of his dogs, he also loves to build things with Danse. 

Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?- Julius has no idea what a holiday is. 

What’s their favorite season?- Julian likes winter time. 

Do they have a temper or are they level headed?- Julius has the worst temper out of anyone in the Legion and that is a statement. 

Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings?- Julian has a hard time expressing his emotions and tends to let them pile up until he has a breakdown. 

Are they a leader or a follower?- Julius is a follower for sure. But only if he likes you. 

How do they come off to others? What first impression do they usually make?- Julian comes off as a good person because that’s how he wants to come off. People tend to take a liking to him really easily. 

Do they prefer to travel alone or with company? Who have they traveled with if any? Current companion if any?- Julius preferred to travel with Arcade who was his only companion in the whole Mojave until he tried to leave him and had to die so now Julius stays alone when he’s not at The Fort with Vulpes. 

Would you describe them as selfless or selfish? Does it depend on the situation?- Depends on the situation. 

What do they find most attractive in others? Name at least one psychological and physical trait. (doesn’t have to be romantic attraction)- Julius likes pale skin, and smooth thighs. He also likes bossy, and thin. 

Do they flirt often? How easily do they fall in love?- Julian doesn’t exactly ‘flirt’ often but he does end up having a lot of sex. he didn’t really fall in love with anyone besides Danse though. 

What’s their love life like? Are they interested in anyone or in a relationship?- Julius is obsessed with Vulpes and would do anything for him. He hasn’t even thought of being romantically involved with anyone else 

Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence?- Julian resorts to violence more than he’d like to admit. 

What is their combat style? What range do they prefer? Do they sneak?- Julius’ combat style is hard and loud. He doesn’t sneak or really plan he just sort of barges in swinging. 

What weapon(s) do they always carry with them?- Julian always has Righteous Authority with him and also the Railway Rifle 

Their most prized possession?- A Light Shining in Darkness 

Their thoughts on power armor?- Julian loves to wear Power Armor. 

Favorite armor/ outfit?- Julius likes to wear the clothes Joshua Graham gave him but Vulpes always gets mad at him for wearing them EVEN THOUGH Caesar told him he LIKES when he wears those clothes and he doesn’t even care. (he wears the boomers outfit too) 

How’s their aim? Do their hands shake while pointing a gun?- Julian has super good aim from his military training. Could probably be a sniper. 

What are their thoughts on having to kill on a daily bases in order to survive? Does it take a toll on them? Or do they shake it off rather easily?- Julius has no problem killing on a daily basis. He gets agitated if he goes too long without violence. 

Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it)- Julian accepts death. 

Do they move around a lot or prefer to have a place to call home?- Julius moved around a lot until he got his own tent at The Fort. 

What’s their favorite location?- Warren Theatre in downtown Boston !! nice and quiet !! also Starlight Drive-In becuase that’s where he lives !! 

Their opinions on ghouls, feral and not feral?- Not Feral are fine, Feral are scary and gross to him. 

Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them?-Julian has more caps than he knows what to do with so he buys supplies. 

Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track?- Julius gets distracted and wanders off and Vulpes has to go find him. 

How do they sleep? Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere?- Julian isn’t picky but he prefers to sleep in his home at Starlight. He can make-do anywhere though. 

What’s their favorite radio station and song? (post-apocalypse)- Mad About The Boy because it reminds him of Vulpes. 

What’s their favorite post-apocalyptic food? Are they a picky eater? Do they know how to cook?- Julian don’t know how to cook !! he likes Dandy Boy Apples because he’s a fool who isn’t bothered by radiation poisoning until its severe ! 

What’s their favorite beverage? Do they drink alcohol?Julius will drink 30 Sunset Sarsaparillas in an hour and not even be bothered by how unhealthy it is. he isn’t supposed to drink alcohol but he does it in secret !! 

Do they have any tag skills?- i dont think so?

Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons, Bobbleheads)- Julius collects eyeglasses. like really, he has so many. he doesnt even wear glasses he just always picks them up. 

Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?- oh my god Julian is shit at disarming traps. like so shit. he just sets them off and he doesnt even care.