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#and at the corner of my eyes I saw the snow outside in a crack between the curtains
yoohyeon · 11 months
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I wasn’t expecting snow this morning
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anqelically · 10 months
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hiii sorry but can you please do dazai x reader holding him and humming to him until he falls asleep? <3 ily drink water
sweet dreams | osamu dazai x gn!reader
word count: 0.6k
content: no manga spoilers, fluff, one use of “bella”, it’s been a moment since i wrote oops 😭
navi | bsd masterlist
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the night is cold, a blanket of snow covering the streets and buildings of yokhama. flurries fell from the sky and onto the first surface they touched. although the amount that was falling was not much, the breeze was harsh enough to make up for it.
osamu dazai stood near the corner of your shared bedroom deep in his thoughts. the window was cracked open, allowing the heat to escape and the wind to blow into your room. although you had woken up a few minutes ago, you didn’t move once. you were waiting for dazai to come back to bed, but he didn’t seem like he’d be moving any time soon.
you laid in bed a few moments more before you got out of bed. you moved quietly, a few feet away before dazai craned his head to you. you were sure he knew that you’d been awake since earlier, but neither of you said a word about it.
“close the window and come back to bed with me,” you spoke softly, hand reaching for his. “it’s cold.”
dazai let you use his hand to cup your own cheek, “because of the open window, or because i’m not there?”
you were quick to admit, “both…”
the brunet smiled, almost seeming satisfied at your response. you guided dazai back to your bed after closing the window. you held him close, burying yourselves in the comfort of your blankets.
“so, what had you up so late?” you decided to ask, gently massaging his scalp.
“i was just thinking about the day we met, bella. this hour on this day 3 years ago. do you remember?”
a silly question he asked, of course you remembered.
you were trudging through the snow in the early morning, leaving an ex-partner’s house. the day you met him was the same day they had broken up with you. you were walking down an unfamiliar road when you stumbled across dazai, who stood alone in the middle of the street with a half-empty glass in his hand.
initially, you tried to dismiss him as a weird drunkard and wanted to pass him quickly. dazai, however, called for you anyway and asked if you wanted to share a drink. and you couldn’t tell if it was because you had just been broken up with or not, but you were compelled to say yes after looking into his eyes.
“i’ll never forget, ‘samu. you were standing in the middle of the road, drinking by yourself.“ your fingers ran through his hair a final time before you wrapped your arms around his waist. “why reminisce suddenly?”
“couldn’t sleep, so why not think about my dearest while i was awake?” he grinned.
“are you sure you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking, and not thinking because you couldn’t sleep?” a familiar warmth spread throughout your chest, “come here, let’s sleep.”
although you knew it was easier said than done, you attempted to lull your lover into a slumber. you held him close, continuously rubbing circles onto his bare skin with your thumb as you hummed the first song that came to mind.
and it took almost half an hour, but you found that dazai’s mind had eventually succumbed to sleep. when you called his name and received nothing in response, you were sure. momentarily, you glanced out the window dazai stood at earlier. the snow and breeze had come to a stop, everything outside still.
you buried yourself further into your sheets and shifted closer to dazai. your hand moved his stray hairs out of his face before you kissed his forehead tenderly.
“i’m glad for that night, always,” you whispered before closing your eyes. “sweet dreams, my love.”
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note: nonnie if you’re reading this rn, i hope yk ily too 😭🫶🏻 i’ve been in a slump so once i saw this req buried in my inbox i knew i should pick it up because cuddling in bed w/ my favs has been on my mind due to the cold weather :( i am also so so SO sorry for how long this took (def not 9 months 💀)
reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !
@lovedazai @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @siyoko @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @4nthonyyliving @ruru-kiss @worldussysblog @hauntedsol @janbannan
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popjunkie42 · 3 months
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Painted Blind - Chapter One
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Amazing commission done by the brilliant, beautiful and talented @witchlingsandwyverns!!! (thank you I love you!!!)
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. -William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
What Feyre Archeron wants is simple: enough food, gold and safety to take care of her family. But when a terrifying fae beast crosses the wall and enters the human lands, she finds that simple, safe life slipping out of reach.
Part one of an ACOTAR re-telling inspired by the Greek myth of Psyche and Eros.
Read on AO3
Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher and @rosanna-writer for the beta reads and encouragement. I have been working on this for a long time...over a year...and the support has been amazing!
It's here! I haven't built it up too much or anything and am now nervous! Don't look at me!
I hope you enjoy...this will be a journey <3 Snippet of chapter one under the cut!
Unhappy the land that is in need of heroes.
-Bertolt Brecht, Galileo
Woodsmoke and stale ale hung heavy in the air as I gently shut the back door to the tavern.
The noise of the place hit me like a jolt. I was used to the twilight quiet of the forest, and the cold and empty winter streets outside. The deep boom of men’s laughter and shouts, the clatter of the kitchen, the drowned out sounds of a fiddle in the corner. Wood groaned under my feet, the floor sticky and worn as I edged around the walls in the shadows, angling towards the roaring fireplace.
This was not a place for young women like me. Certainly not my first choice of accommodations for the night. The brazen, lingering stares running up and down my body reminded me of that every step of the way. But the heat of the fire along with the surrounding warm bodies was worth it when I began to feel the tips of my fingers again.
Ten minutes ago I had been elbows-deep in blood and entrails, the squelching sound drowned out by the laughter and warm light of the tavern behind me as I worked. One dunk of my bloody hands into a frozen bucket of water to wash off made me rethink any fearful self preservation I might have had left.
Survival was like that. Blurring the edges of what should be a simple, safe decision.
But I wasn’t making cautious decisions these days. Outside, chill winds whipped up the fresh frozen snow and threw it against anything in its path. My cheeks smarted and burned with it even now. The cold had taken the easy prey and then the difficult prey, and now I was forced deeper and deeper into the woods every night to find something, anything for my family.
My fingers and toes started to ache as the frozen digits warmed back to life, tingling with pain. I knew the barkeep’s goodwill would only last so long once he saw me and knew I wouldn’t be purchasing anything. Even if the growling of my stomach battled the sounds in this loud room, as the smells of fresh bread and ale and mutton wafted through the room amidst the more unpleasant scents.
But it wouldn’t do to leave the deer unattended for long, not when there were desperate men and other predators just as hungry as me and attracted to the scent of blood. I had more of the deer to skin, and it would be hours until the dawn sun touches this place.
Cracked skin, split nails, a cramp in my stomach. Usually that was all I had to show for my nights buried in snow up to my knees or huddled in bare tree branches. But tonight, at dusk, luck was with me and I had taken a deer as it crept towards the half frozen river.
It had walked directly under my tree and straight ahead of me, presented like a ready gift from some long forgotten god. I was so weak with cold and hunger my hands shook as I readied my bow. But my arrow hit true.
Still, the deer had been larger than I could usually handle. I spent too much time with my feet buried in new snow, making a rough bower, then gutting it and finally taking the head before it was light enough for me to carry back in slippery sprints.
My body was screaming with exhaustion by the time I spotted the low night lights of the village. But there was nowhere in our family’s small cabin to keep a bleeding body. Certainly not if my sisters had anything to say about it.
More eyes shot to me as a glass smashed and I jolted like a spooked rabbit. I rubbed life back into my hands, trying to calm my nerves. Now that I wasn’t shivering and fighting the cold, exhaustion threatened to set deep in my bones. It was almost two o’clock in the morning. Nesta and Elain would be fast asleep, cuddled together for warmth in our shared bed.
The anger in me burned, like the bitter nettle tea Elain brewed to keep our stomachs warm in between meals.
Two men had been watching me, talking low and close to one another for too long. I wove between bodies and chairs to find another spot further away from their gaze.
My life was always like this, for as long as we had been in the cabin. Forced out of our richly appointed manor by my father’s debtors, the old place now just a dreamy blur in the fading memories of my childhood.
The days were never dull, that was for certain. I ricocheted between life and death, forest and hearth, starvation and sustenance. I walked the woodland paths that fed and sheltered me, forests that held monsters or the stark winter seasons of starvation. Poisons and fanged beasts and untrustworthy men. Fruit and herbs, glistening springs, growth and life and death. Three pathways: death, bare survival, or thriving life, all converging to a crossroads, and sometimes I ran so quickly between them I got whiplash.
Sometimes, in the twilight hours between sleep and waking, I remembered when it wasn’t always so. I remembered a childhood filled with dresses and lavish meals and even stolen cookies with petal pink icing that smeared all over my face. I couldn’t recall, now, the last time I tasted sugar. Or had days on end with a full belly, without a care in my heart. That life was over now, and this new one demanded sacrifices. Like drawing the attention of unsavory drunk men in order to stay warm enough to bring breakfast to my family.
My eyes cast over the crowd. I wasn’t entirely alone. Isaac Hale was here, with his father and brothers, doing an excellent job of ignoring me completely. Old Hobb, at least, had given me a tip of his floppy felt cap from his station at the bar, several tankards in tonight. He had already reached the next stage of his drunkenness and would doubtless start a fight or an oddly unslurred lecture soon.
I didn’t mind - I had been subject to many of those lectures, and sometimes found them helpful. The old hunter was one of the few men in the village who had ever shown me kindness, catching me some years back when he caught me slicing through the intestines of my rabbits as I tried to skin them.
The cold, snow-burned skin on my cheeks was now hot and burning on my face as my blood ran warmer, waking from its sluggish sleep.
If I was lucky tonight, Isaac would continue to ignore me and the rest of the bar would be too drunk to notice or remember me. And if they did focus on me too long, I had been practicing since I was fifteen - the stance I had, one that was quiet but not small. Forcing the tiredness from my face the best I could, setting my jaw and keeping my hunting knife in easy reach.
I wouldn’t be prey tonight. I was the hunter. And if anyone chose to test me, my hunger and desperation would only make me more fierce.
At least, that’s what I told myself, to keep from breaking apart.
Just as I was thinking about moving back into the cold to finish my butchering, the front door of the tavern swung open with a blast of cold wind.
And silence fell.
Read the rest on AO3
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val-cansalute · 10 months
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PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.2
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ch. 1
ch. 3
ch. 4
ch. 5
ch. 6
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Doors bound to frames, and patched up curtains drawn over locked windows with rusted bolts.
The silence has lingered in your room since Ellie left, trying desperately to seep out of any gaps, but you’d sealed them all tight, barricaded yourself in, chained your mind and body to the guilt.
A few days must have passed since then. Who knows? They've all melted into each other like you're constantly between the light of day and the dark of night behind those covered windows.
All you've done is lay and think. Nothing more. Appetite and sleep abandoned you, and you retreated into your consciousness, the dark place that started to feel less like fire and more like warmth.
If Soren saw you now - well, God, you can't bring yourself to even consider that.
People came by intermittently and, by people, only the nurse woman and Maria, both of whom were met with an oh so welcoming silence as you ignored their knocks.
Then returned the silence, which happened to be anything but silent for you - the echo of memories hitting the walls of your mind amplifying, screeching mercilessly and bursting your eardrums from the inside out.
The cracking reverberates the loudest - right as his skull made contact with the wall, sending his brains projecting across it. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets, piercing right through you.
His blood - your blood - insidiously crept it’s way into every corner, painting the walls around his deformed figure, dripping down into glistening crimson pools along the floor, spattering across your face, and absolutely drenching your hands in a way that wiped out any possibility of them ever being clean again.
The bat rattled against floor as you let it slip through your trembling fingers and then your mind went blank.
When you resurface, the thoughts still weigh heavy on your mind, and the malicious hiss,
“What have you done?!”
that usually follows morphs into a bloodcurdling cry, begging for your attention.
You can’t stay here. You cannot.
You are safe here, but you have no desire to be.
Alone and trapped in the memory of what happened that day, surrounded by people who only seem to make you feel even more alone in this dark room.
And you knew you had nothing to live for as soon as Soren was gone.
So, you’ll pack up and leave quietly when you can walk again-
BANG BANG BANG
The howling of the beginnings of a blizzard accompanies the sharp thuds against your door, shaking the frame. It almost scares you before you realise it’s just Maria or the nurse bringing food.
You sigh and pull the covers over your face, seeking relief from the harsh cold.
BANG BANG BANG
“HEY! IT’S ME! ELLIE! I KNOW YOU HAVE A CRUTCH! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”
“HEY! THERE’S A FUCKING BLIZZARD AND I BROUGHT YOUR ASS FOOD! OPEN THE DOOR!”
BANG BANG-
The lock bursts off the door frame and projects across the room, letting the door fly open, in coming a gust of furious winds and snow, and a panicked string of curses from Ellie’s chapped lips as she rushes in and slams the door shut behind her.
You arose from the bed like a fucking vampire, probably resembling one too, and stared at Ellie who was leaning against the door, pushing out laboured breaths, with your jaw hanging open.
“Fuck, I can fix this- Damn- Shit, I just need… like… Fuck! Why’s this fucking lock so flimsy anyway?! And why the fuck didn’t you just open the door?!”
You ignore her rambling, “You broke my lock?”
“… Sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
She holds up a small stack of containers,
“You haven’t been opening the door so they sent me.”
“To break it open?”
“Hey, I said I was sorry, okay? I’ll fucking fix it… I just… need to check it out first…”
You sigh and let your head fall back against your pillow,
“Ellie, it’s almost midnight, and there’s a fucking blizzard outside. This couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?”
She walks towards where you’re laying and looks over you before setting the containers down on a nightstand.
“I know you haven’t eaten in days. People worry. Don’t be an asshole.”
“They’ll cope,” you grit out disdainfully, though it’s unwarranted, to which Ellie scoffs, seemingly losing her patience with your jarring change in character since she last saw you.
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“I’ll cope.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Ellie glances around the shadowy corners of your decrepit room.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Feels like I’m in a coffin, you got a candle or some shit?”
“Uh, I think there’s one on the desk. But I’m going to sleep anyway.”
“Looks like you’ve been sleeping for days. Want me to neaten this place up for ya? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way.”
“How about ‘not really?”
“Oh, you getting smart with me?”
“Fuck off.”
“In a minute.” She trudges around the room, kneeling stiffly to retrieve discarded trash littering the floor with little strained puffs.
For some reason, you’re annoyed that you can’t get back to the silence. You’re annoyed that she interrupted your thoughts so violently. Now she’s cleaning, trying to crack open a window to let out the stale air and smacking it down as soon as a flurry of snowflakes enters, and you’re sitting there, watching her, unable to get back into your head.
A giggle itches at your throat but you swallow it, glancing over her and the way the tip of her nose is tinged pink from the cold.
Cute.
“How are you gonna get home?”
“Uhh… Fuck. I don’t know, just close my eyes and run fast as I can.”
“Are you serious?”
“I mean, yeah, not much else I can do.”
“…You know, you can stay if you want to. Just for the night.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about want to, but I might stick around just to check up on your ankle, you know, do you a favour.”
“Pssh. In that case, you’re more than welcome to leave, dude.”
“No, I'll stay, since you practically begged me.”
“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”
A few moments later, the room is brighter, clearer, fresher, and Ellie forced you to eat under her beady-eyed, scrutinizing gaze. You shift your leg, staring down at the swell beneath the bandage as Ellie stands awkwardly at the foot of your bed, having stripped off a few outer layers.
You look over at her, not really sure what to do other than gather all your willpower to not stare at the way her nipples poke through the fabric adorning her.
Fucking cold in here.
You rub your eyes furiously, as though you want to push them back into your skull, and throw yourself back onto your pillow.
"Jesus. You trynna go blind or something?" she chuckles, a rasp laced in her voice.
"Shhhh. I'm sleeping."
"Oh yeah? You asleep?" You can hear the smirk in her voice and the floorboards creaking beneath her step as she closed in on you. You crack open an eye to give her a bemused look, even though her words made your insides turn.
"Yes."
"Uh-huh, right."
"Right."
"So... You got a sleeping bag or some shit?"
"Nope."
"Blankets?"
"No."
"Wha- I- So are you expecting me to just huddle up on the couch when it's, like, minus a bajillion degrees outside?!"
"I don't know..." You open your eyes and think. It's genuinely cold. There's a blizzard so she can't get home. There's no blankets. You know you're going to regret what you're about to propose, but you spit it out before nerves restrain you.
“You cool with sleeping on the bed?”
She scratches her neck, a torn expression on her face.
"I mean... Isn't that... You know?"
“No, I don't know. Look, it's not weird, just don't think freezing to death seems like an attractive option. Just for the night.”
She scoffs, more so out of shock than mockery, “Okay.”
“Yeah, just a suggestion but if you’re uncomfortable with that then I’ll-”
“No… Why would I be…? Plenty of room for us to share the bed."
“Yeah.”
After a few minutes of awkward shuffling around, Ellie pulls the covers back and settles on the outermost edge of the bed, almost rolling right off, with her back turned to you.
You're not much better, laying close to the other side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a body stiff as a plank of wood
"You... uh, you okay over there?" she asks hesitantly
A quick,
"I’m okay, thank you," rushes past your lips as you try to settle your heart rate. It's this time of night that the thoughts start flooding in. You know there's no point in bothering to try to sleep.
The covers rustle beside you as Ellie, courageous as ever, turns to face you, eyes raking over your figure curiously.
"Good... Just checking," she says softly, quietly, words coming out soft as cotton. Then she turns to face the ceiling and silence blankets the room.
After a few hours, your eyes are bloodshot and fixated on the same crack in the wall that they had been for a while now. The glass is starting to overflow, and you don't know that you'll be able to hold back the tears even just for one night.
You can only hope Ellie's asleep when the restrained sound of your sniffles tears through the heavy silence every now and then. Your chest tightens when you hear Ellie start to make some soft grumbling noises, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns back over to face you.
"Hey," she says, her hand hovering over your shoulder,
"Let me see that ankle for a sec."
You squeeze your eyes shut and groan, hoping she can't make out the slight quiver in your voice, "Why? Why can’t we just sleep?"
"Just... wanna see how bad the swelling is," Ellie mumbles, sounding annoyed.
"I know your dumb ass wouldn't tell me if it was hurting.
You sit up shakily, the darkness casting a shadow over your glistening eyes, and lift your leg to your chest. Ellie reaches a hand out and gingerly runs it over the bandages, tugging them away and feeling the area for swelling.
"See? It’s fine."
She gazes up at you, her eyes lingering for a moment before she nods.
"Yeah, looks okay, I guess," she sighs.
"Can't be sure with you... But, fine, whatever, go to sleep."
You rest your head back against the pillow with a sigh and close your eyes.
However, sometime later in the night, you feel Ellie nudging your already awake figure.
"Hey."
She's speaking very quietly, but there's something urgent in her voice. You rub your stinging eyes, somehow annoyed at her for pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What?"
"I need to check your ankle again."
"No, it feels fine, go back to sleep."
Ellie stays silent for a second before letting out a long sigh.
"Yeah, well, I'm checking it anyways," she says.
"Just roll over."
From her tone, you can tell that Ellie isn't asking this time, so you do as she says and show her your wound, though her eyes are yet again focused on your face for a little longer.
"Okay... It looks fine. Again."
Ellie shakes her head for a moment before lying back down. She watches you shuffle around before muttering,
"Damn it."
"What?"
"I... You know what? I can't sleep, so talk to me."
"You were just sleeping th-"
“Yeah, well, it’s gone, so talk to me,” she hissed, to which you rolled your teary eyes, trying to gain a few crumbs of composure before speaking.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything. I mean, I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s cuz there’s nothing to know,” you mumble. You know that’s not the truth.
“… Just… Look, what’s your favourite colour?”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically,
“Favourite colour? Are you serious?”
“Yes! Just answer the question, asshole.”
“Fine. It’s purple. It’s the most colourful colour.”
“Purple… Huh, didn’t expect that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, you just don’t… I don’t know, you don’t exactly seem into colourful stuff. Kinda expected you to say black or something.”
You snort indignantly, turning your head to meet her heavy, mesmerising eyes.
“Says you… I would never.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know that I, also, would never.”
An easy chuckle bubbles through you as you look up at the ceiling. Easy. Simple, all the things she said and the way the conversation slowly diffused into something more balanced, ridden of the initial obvious strain on Ellie’s part to get you to stop feeling whatever you were feeling when she saw your shoulders quiver in the moonlight.
Your head tilts to look at her for the first time after a while, skin dry of the tears that evaporated off your skin as you grinned, telling her the pun you claimed was better than hers and waiting for a response with a mind miraculously clear of the thoughts that polluted it up until a moment ago.
Ellie’s bottom lip is tugged between her teeth to hold back her own smile, though the creases beside her eyes give her away,
“Oh, was that supposed to be a joke?”
“Uh, yeah, it was. Don’t act like you didn’t find it funny! Not after how much you laughed at your shitty ones!”
She raised her eyebrows playfully, feigning a somber tone, “I don’t know, bu- OW! He- What the hell?!” as her face hit the pillow you launched at it. The sight of her face suddenly full of confusion draws a laugh from you - a real one. You hadn’t felt that familiar warmth for so long.
Caught up in the lightheartedness of the moment, you meet her gaze with a grin, holding up the pillow menacingly,
“Sorry, been wanting to do that for a while,”
Ellie grabs onto your wrists, a pure grin adorning her lips as she desperately attempts to fight your hands away from her through laughter and muttered “fuck”s. You give into her struggle with a groan and she pins the pillow and your hands back against the bed.
There’s a shift - both of you can feel it, neither of you expected it, as Ellie looms over you, loose auburn locks dangling close to your skin.
Your stomach turns. This is bad. This is wrong. This feels uncomfortably right.
Play it off, you tell yourself, unable to decipher the thought behind Ellie’s slightly furrowed brow, before you let out a laugh you hope sounded natural and playfully push her back onto the mattress.
Your heart is racing; you can feel the beat in your thighs which twitch every now and then, but you do a good job at hiding it, allowing the conversation to lull into that comforting silence like before, kindly putting you to sleep after hours of trying.
Those thoughts never stopped racing though, outrunning the thoughts of him…
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a/n: boring ass chapter again, this is gonna be slow asf but it gets more eventful after this, i promise 😩 prolly some smut later too… creds to cafekitsune for dividers
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small-sinclair · 9 months
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Snow and Rose
An idea by @violettelune
Reformed!Johnny Slaughter x fem!reader
Welcomed readers: @sup-im-blue
Tw: mention of blood and death, him being a dad, mainly his pov, just something fluffy, not prof-read
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He woke up to another nightmare. Johnny dreamt that he found you dead in the sunflower field, your blood stained on his hands, lifeless eyes looking up. Then he heard his daughter crying in the distance. No matter how fast he ran towards her cries, he was never close enough. He was never there in time. It always ended with Nancy standing over the crib and a wicked smile on her face.
“Freed ya, Johnny. Now you can come home,” she would say. “Now you come back home. Come home.”
At his feet, barbed wire and chains wrapped around his legs and arms, pulling him to the ground. He felt roots sewing him to the wooden floor into front of his mother as he looked upon her and her smile. He felt chainsaw blades strangling him as he tried to scream your name, but sunflowers and daisies poured from his lips. His world filled with his victims, his deaths, and they all look at him with empty, lost eyes. He knew their names; how could he forget them? Then his eyes focus to the center and sees you and his child in a broken marble block, red tears falling from your eyes as you look on your child. He tastes your blood, your flesh between gasps and teeth. He hates this. He loves you. Stop. Stop it!
Wake up.
He would wake up in sweat, sometimes shutting, sometimes falling out of bed and pushing away from the bed and from you.
Tonight, however, he woke up with a start, breathing heavily, his dark eyes looking around like a scared wild animal. He looked down at your sleeping form then up at the cracked door leading into the hallway. He needed to check. Johnny just needed time check.
He got out of bed, put the blanket over your shoulder, and crept out of the room but something in his chest didn’t sit. He came back and kisses your head. “Be back, y/n,” he promised. “Keep my side warm.”
He may not be a hunter, but he still kept his talents. He can walk without noise, he can move without sound, and he can be hidden without being seen. Johnny uses that talent whenever his daughter is asleep when he comes home from a long day from the butchers. That’s why he got the job in Wisconsin; the butcher need another slaughter, and he’s good at it. Why waste a talent? He’s used to the blood, to the kill, but these are animals, not man. But he got the job to leave Texas. He swore to the stars he’ll never go back.
Johnny made that promise in a burned down church two years ago, and he stuck to it still.
He snuck out the room and down the hall to the open white door to the cotton candy pink room. He lets out a deep sigh as he came over the little white crib he built and looked down. Ophelia Rosemary Sawyer, his 5 week-year-old daughter, slept like a rock in a pink onesie with a bear in the center. Whatever fear he had, the nightmares, the shadows and ghosts— it all faded when he saw her sleeping in peace. Shes his rock, his world, his reason.
Ever so slowly, he lowered his hand and touched her head, and his heart fluttered when she moved into his hand. She’s not scared of him. As if she’s glass, he picks her up slowly and cradles her. He sneaks to the wooden rocking chair in the corner and rocks back and forth. The moonlight lit the room as the snow fell gently over the evergreens.
“Hey there, little sunshine,” he whispers. “Don’ worry. Daddy’s just needed ya.” He looks down at his world and rests his forehead against hers, kisses it, and holds her close. “I swear you’ll never be alone, ever. I love you… I’ll never not love ya.” Then he looks outside, stands up, and takes her to the window. “Look at ‘at, Ophelia,” he whispers in her small spot of brown hair, “it’s your first snow. So pretty an’ bright.” He looks out at the fields and forests, the farmlands and homes, and he thinks about the fireflies and waving weeds he left behind. “Daddy ain’t goin’ away, sunshine. I promise.”
He closes his eyes breathed out slowly. “Texas can keep the fireflies,” he looked down at his child, his blood and flesh, and his heart swelled, “I got my snow and rose.”
“Johnny?” Your voice was enough to make him jolt but he relaxed. “Why are you up? Is Ophelia okay?” You joined his side and looked down at your child. “I didn’t hear her.”
“Naw,” he answers, rocking on his heel, his eyes not leaving his child. “Sleepin’ like a lamb.”
You rested your head on his arm as he looked outside. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he said as he laid his head on top of yours.
“Is this your first snow?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is it everything you’d imagined?”
He thought for a moment as he took in the land before him. He could imagine Ophelia and her friends running wild outside with sleds, building snowmen, having a snowball fight out back. He could see himself with you during a star filled night while the children sleep, slow dancing with you in the snow, kissing you sweetly while whispering praises. He thought about Texas and the heat, but he thought about you smiling while it snowed, his kids playing, and him giving you a cup of cocoa.
“Everything and more, moonbeam,” he whispers, meeting your eyes. He leans down and kisses you tenderly. “I love you, y/n.”
“And I love you, Johnny,” you said back. You looked back at the snow, and you both watched it fall over the moon lit snow.
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esmedelacroix · 11 months
Text
Coffee Shop Love Pt.3
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader
summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.
contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, so much fluff, implied age gap, a teeny smidge of angst, suggestive
author's note: Hi lovies, third part! I'm so happy you all like this series! I really like writing it. Please let me know what you all liked its really helpful! Enjoy...
word count: 1.5k
Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth
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The next morning you got up and got ready to start baking for the morning rush. By the time you got down to the shop your two employees were already baking the muffins and cakes. You said hello and went over the menu for the day. You then started preparing lunch menu ingredients.
Just when you had finished the morning preparation and opened up. You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Which was weird because no one ever texted you in the morning. You took your phone out and stared at the message that awaited you.
Miguel: Hey could you make my coffee in advance? I'm running late today...
You: Of course, hurry!
Miguel: Maybe sneak a lil muffin in there...?
You: Sugar? Am I speaking to Miguel or an imposter?
Miguel: 😡
You smiled down at your phone. You had texted Miguel last night for a while before going to bed. Older people using emojis always cracks me up. You thought to yourself. You put your phone back in your pocket and made his order. While the morning rush built up to its usual catastrophic storm of angry city folk. Mr. Smith picked up his order and his rent, just when the morning rush was at peak catastrophe and the line was going out of the shop, you saw Miguel pull up to the sidewalk and step out of his car.
You put on your scarf and earmuffs, along with a puffer jacket and gloves before heading outside. If there was one bad thing about you, it's that you were practically allergic to cold weather. You rushed out to Miguel who was leaning against his car. "Hey, I came as fast as I could," you huffed out smiling at him.
"Thank you, Baby—you look warm," he teased. He noticed the way your eyes watered when gusts of wind carried snow. How the snowflakes fell on nose and eyelashes. The way your nose turned a slight shade of pink, he could already guess that if you didn't have those earmuffs on, your little ears would be pink too. Even though you were wrapped in the warmest clothes, you still looked so chilly Miguel was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around you and warm you up properly himself.
"I'm so sensitive to the cold, my hands and feet are always cold," you explained as you held his drink out to him as well as a little brown paper bag. "I packed you a lemon poppyseed muffin, something tells me you'll enjoy it," you said.
"Hmm, I let you know," he hummed looking away. He was obviously a bit embarrassed to be enjoying baked goods. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head.
"Get inside Baby, or you might freeze right where you stand," Miguel chuckled as he ushered you back into the shop.
You waved goodbye and entered the battlefield of morning brews and muffins. It was a long day but you looked forward to the clock finally striking 9 p.m. because you knew Miguel would walk in, probably get stuck in the mistletoe, and say hello.
So he had walked through the door into the empty shop and got caught in the mistletoe while accidentally knocked over the yuletide, your night was finally complete. You never would have thought that a man as intimidating as Miguel would also be so clumsy. But it wasn't his fault that he was incredibly tall and monstrously muscular.
"Miguel, can you stop trashing my shop?" you teased as you walked around the counter to fix your holiday decor. Just when you have adjusted the yuletide, his broad shoulder bumped into a bell and it fell as well.
"Great, now you're throwing stuff at me," you joked giggling at his clumsiness.
"Oh stop it," Miguel said rolling his eyes. The both of you were so lost in the moment of laughter and bliss that you didn't realize that you were standing at the entrance of the store. You both realized and looked above you to see the mistletoe, you felt the heat rise from your chest to your face all the way to your ears.
You had never been this close to Miguel so you never realized that his eyes which you thought were mahogany brown had a slight hint of ruby in them. They were both whiskey and wine while simultaneously being black coffee and velvet cake.
He smelled like sandalwood, vallina, musk, roses, and cedarwood. In short, he smelled better than sex. His scent drugged you and kept you in his trance while swimming in his eyes. You stared at each other far too long for it to be nothing. You finally broke the tension by clearing your throat. "It's too bad you don't believe in Christmas, I'm a really good kisser," you said as you began to walk back around the counter, hoping that he didn't notice how nervous you were. He walked up to the counter visibly not over what had just happened.
"Well, who said I don't believe in Christmas?" he asked.
"I said I haven't celebrated in a while," he explained correcting you.
"Are you just saying that because you want a smooch? So needy," you said shaking your head at him. You handed him his coffee, which you already started to make. Your question made him blush a bit. Cute.
"Don't worry you don't have to answer that question, but you have to tell me if you liked the muffin I made you," you asked with a shy smile.
"It was actually really good. But don't take that wrong way, I still don't like sweet things," he said.
"Yeah sure, anyway I'm going to drop the extras off at the homeless shelter down the road if you want to tag along?" you suggested
"Okay, I don't really have much to do," he replied rubbing the back of his neck.
You were partially asking so he could help load the stuff into your car. How could he blame you? He didn't have all that muscle for nothing. As you both got in the car and drove the short drive to the shelter, you sparked a bit of conversation. "So, I've never seen you around the area, did you just move here?" you asked.
"I moved recently, I actually work at Alchemax, it's not too far away," he explained. You let out an impressed hum.
"Ohh snazzy, what do you do there?" you asked as you taped the wheel rhythmically to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song playing in the background.
"I'm a geneticist," he answered.
"Yeah, I don't know what that is, but I was born and raised here," she said as Miguel laughed at her earlier comment.
"Tell me more," Miguel said under stifled laughter.
"The coffee shop is kind of a family heirloom if you will, it's been around for decades. Naturally, I followed in my parents' footsteps and went to culinary school. But my parents passed away a while ago so I couldn't finish school," she explained.
"Well, I'm sure your parents would be proud. I think you have this coffee thing down to a T," he said, making you smile like an idiot.
"Thank you, Miguel, that means a lot," you said as you pulled up to the shelter. You both got the stuff out of the trunk. You walked in and took it to the front desk where your best friend Estella was. "Hey, Baby—oh? Who's this? Boyfriend? Hookup?" she asked while sizing him up and giving you a nod of approval.
"This is Miguel and um, he's my uh—" you started trying to find the words.
"We're friends," he answered simply. Estella still looked at us suspiciously before letting the volunteers take the goods off our hands.
"Well you two have a great night, and Miguel, she may not look like it but, she likes it rough," Estella teased throwing a wink at Miguel.
"Oh my god, Estella!" you groaned as you walked out with Miguel and got back into the car. The ride was silent until he said, "Rough huh?"
"Please forget she said that," you said smiling sheepishly at the revelation.
"Oh, so you're not going to deny it?" he asked.
"Well, why deny it when it's true?" you said accepting the shame.
You had parked and looked over at his face for a reaction to this information. But nothing, you couldn't read his expression. The two of you spent the rest of the night chatting it up about everything under the sun(or moon). You have learned so much about Miguel.
You learned that he has a brother named Gabriel, his favorite color is red, he prefers chocolate over gummies(wrong opinion), and he absolutely has to keep eye contact when speaking with someone.
As you both continued to bond over Christmas cookies and brews, your moment was interrupted by a buzz from both of your phones. It was an amber alert that read:
[Blizzard Warning! This area til 9:00 PM EST Mon. All citizens must stay indoors. All roads closed]
Next... Pt.4
taglist:
@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@amber-content
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underthetree845 · 9 months
Text
Underneath the tree (You're all that I need)
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Armin/gn! Reader (drabble/oneshot)
Cws: gn! reader, established relationship, christmas tradition, decorating the tree, childhood memories, implied modern au, tender moments, fluff
About 1.1k words
Summary: Just a sweet drabble of Armin and Reader decorating the tree for Christmas together <3 Armin being a really sweet boyfriend.
A/n: I hope all you lovlies can have a good holiday/winter season! And here is @/estrelinha-s requested credit for the second set of Christmas dividers ^^
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The faint crackling of a woodwick candle on the coffee table. Wax a deep maroon, scented cinnamon, the faint glow of the flame matching those of lights wrapped around the tree. Each little bulb twinkling as if to the rhythm of a heart, not so different from the stars outside that hang lithely above a blanket of fresh snow. Tilting your head, you slipped the ribbon of another ornament onto another branch, jumping slightly when a pair of warm arms encircled you from behind. You immediately relaxed, that familiar warmth creeping into your chest, similar to the one enveloping the room with a gentle glow. 
“I made us some tea, Angel,” the blonde boy mumbled, resting his chin on the crook of your neck with a dreamy pair of eyes. “Thank you Armin,” you cooed in response, shifting to place your hand on his cheek and plant your lips on the other, lingering for a moment before moving over to approach the two steaming mugs on the coffee table. Armin smiled softly and knelt down to pick up his cup again, blowing on it with care. “Careful to not burn yourself,” he told you with a light breath as you picked up the tea, “I just made it, so it’s kind of hot.” You nodded slightly, allowing your breath to pass over the drink for a moment before sipping the warm liquid down your throat. It formed a comforting heat in the pit of your stomach. “Mm, Love, did you make my favorite?” you hummed softly, noting the way a small grin tugged on Armin’s lips. “Maybe,” he replied, lowering the mug from his face, “Do you like it? I tried to make it the way you prefer.” “I don’t like it,” you started, noticing the beginning of a pout on your boyfriend’s lips, “I love it.” Your smile was warm, the soft lights from the tree illuminating you so perfectly; Armin couldn’t help but blush. 
“How far did you get with the ornaments while I was gone?” he asked, glancing over at the tree. “I’m almost done, I’ve just got one box left,” you replied, standing up again and pulling Armin along with you by the hand. “Which box?” he inquired as you turned to grab it from the floor. Taking it from you curiously, he opened the lid and you saw a million different emotions flash through his eyes. “Oh,” Armin breathed, “this box.” 
The first ornament was one made from a pinecone. Two clay arms jutted out unevenly from either side, a pair of googly eyes hot glued to the front. A red scarf (a few pieces of yarn) ran around the neck, and a bent paperclip had been forced through one of the seed pods on the top to function as a hook. Armin ran his thumb over the toy ornament fondly. “God I remember this,” the boy didn’t trust his voice any louder than a whisper. The corners of his lips crinkled into a smile. A tender one, the one he always made before he was about to cry. “Oh Sweetheart, come here,” you beckoned him softly. Armin barely took a step forward before being swallowed in your embrace; his chest rising and falling shakily. Your fingertips dragged up and down his spine, soon his breathing turned steady and he pulled back from the hug, a single tear escaping the corner of his eye. 
Armin held the memory of his parent’s last Christmas with him delicately as he hung it from a branch of evergreen near the top of the tree. 
A few childhood ornaments and paper snowflakes later, you came across a memory that made you giggle.
A distorted snowman-shaped ornament, its coat of paint shiny under the lights of the tree. Cracks in the white glass that had long since been mended by a bottle of super glue and two tiny pairs of hands. You still remember what the ornament sounded like when it shattered. The way you and Eren scrambled to pick up the pieces and carry them upstairs.  Thankfully there weren’t many, the snowman had broken into five main chunks. The frantic whispers and hushed panic when glue stuck to your hands. 
Your mother hadn’t noticed the newly odd shape of the ornament until January when the time came to pack everything away. Her eyes studied yours and Eren’s with suspicion, and it wasn’t until the following year when decorating the tree again that the two of you took responsibility for your mishap. By then it was a laughing matter, and a light scolding on how it’s better to tell the truth upfront to avoid further conflict. You settled the ornament deep inside a hollow in the tree branches, a place that ensured it would not fall again. The chair was held steady with a firm grip as you teetered on the edge to wiggle the star into its proper place. Twisted flakes of metal and glitter to reflect the lights; it was the housewarming gift Armin’s grandfather had crafted when he heard you and his grandson were moving in together. He even built the wire frame himself. Craftiness really did run in the family. There were five points; two slightly lopsided and one a little too short, but it was perfect in your eyes. The star smiled down at you and Armin as you admired the tree with a soft grin on each of your faces. 
You let out a sigh and fell back into the couch, half draping a red and white blanket over your body and beckoning the blonde boy closer. You tilted your head when he sprinted off to your shared bedroom and raised your eyebrows when he came back carrying a small box, neatly wrapped in your favorite color and bearing a pretty bow on top.  “You’ll get to open it soon enough, don’t worry,” he gave a small smile as he slid the gift beneath the branches and came to join you on the couch. He pulled the candy cane blanket over himself and snuggled his body close to yours, allowing his head to rest on your collarbone. You draped your arm over his shoulder and tangled your hand in his blonde locks. He listened serenely to the constant beating of your heart; a sound that had lulled him to sleep on more than one occasion. “You know, you still haven’t given me any clue as to what you want for Christmas,” you pointed out. Armin hummed as you began to run your fingers through his hair. “But I told you, I don’t really need anything,” he replied, and you sighed through your nose. “Yes I know,” he could hear the pout on your lips, “but I want to get you something. You’re special to me, you know that.” Armin shifted his head up to meet your eyes, the lights of the tree reflecting brilliantly in his blue irises. “Angel, you’re all that I need,” his voice was soft as he hugged you just a little bit tighter, “Promise.” 
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A/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you sleep well tonight and can bundle up nice and cozy.
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meep-moops-stuff · 4 months
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Sidney Crosby x Reader - Found Father
“You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know / and not invite your family cause they never showed you love”
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It was finally winter in Pittsburgh, meaning the temperature was starting to get colder and the snow was starting to fall.
A month had gone by since Sidney paid for y/n’s latte and it ended well. They ended up chatting afterwards about her degree in social work and all she has to study.
Sidney never went to college, so he found it interesting to hear about the true college experience.
Ever since then, and every time Sidney would walk into the cafe, he’d find book girl in her usual corner. He’d always give her a little wave or say a small hello as he’d walk by.
But today had ended differently.
Sidney made his usual order at the cash register and waited for his drink to be made when he saw y/n talking on the phone and she did not look impressed.
He kept his eyes on her as he grabbed his coffee and made his way over to her hair as she hung up and took her glasses off to rub her eyes.
“You ok?” Sidney asked gently.
Y/n looked up and smiled but sighed.
“The stupid power is out at my apartment complex because of the wind and snow. And they won’t get it back on until tomorrow afternoon.” She explained.
Sidney set his drink down and sat in the chair across from her.
“What? So you won’t have any heat? It’s supposed to get really cold tonight” Sidney said with a stern tone.
Book girl put her glasses back on and leaned back in her chair, shutting her laptop as she looked outside.
“Yeah I won’t have any heat tonight.” She mumbled. She watched the snow fall as she began to bounce her knee, trying to figure out what to do.
“Have you asked your parents if you could stay with them?” Sidney asked.
Y/n chuckled and shook her head.
“No. I don’t really talk to my family anymore.” She said softly.
“You can stay with me I have a guest room” Sidney blurted out.
Y/n stopped bouncing her leg and looked at Sidney in surprise.
Sidney’s eyes widened, realizing what he had just said.
Why doesn’t he think before talking sometimes?
He cleared his throat and sat up, trying to figure out how to make things less awkward.
“I didn’t mean that weirdly like you can stay with me. I’d be in my own room obviously and the guest room is like not close to mine so you’d be totally safe” he rambled out.
His face started to get red and he knew this looked bad.
Y/n smiled as she crossed her arms and began to giggle at how awkward Sidney was making this.
“I just made it even more awkward by adding that, didn’t I?”
Y/n nodded and sat up and took a sip of her hot coffee.
Sidney looked at his watch and noticed it was 5pm and the sun would set soon.
“But I did mean it. You can stay at my place in the guest room until your heat is back on. I don’t want you freezing to death” he said softly.
“I’ve known you for maybe three months at this point and you’re just going to offer up your guest room like it’s no big deal?” Y/n asked.
Sidney shrugged and traced circles on his coffee cup.
“Well I think it’s safe to say you aren’t a serial killer based off what I know…so yeah” he said, causing her to smile.
“How do I know you aren’t a serial killer though?” She asked and smiled.
Sidney chuckled and tilted his head to the side.
“That’s true. I could be. But I’m too busy to be one” he said.
She giggled again and cracked her knuckles as she looked back outside to see the sun beginning to set.
“Ok. I’ll take up the offer”
Sidney nodded and set his empty coffee cup back down on the table and cleared his throat.
“Ok do you need a ride? I can drive you to grab some things and then we can head back to my place and-“
Sidney stopped talking as he looked at y/n who was already done packing up her back pack and putting her winter jacket on.
“I have a car. I can drive to yours or follow you” she said softly.
Sidney scratched the back of his head and nodded, forgetting that she was probably able to drive.
“I have extra clothes in my car. I’ll be fine” she added.
Sidney nodded again, not sure of what to say.
“Well are you ready to go?” He asked.
Y/n nodded and smiled as she grabbed her car keys out of her pocket and stood up as Sidney stood up.
“Well after you” he said and gestured towards the door, making her smile.
He walked behind her out the entrance and as soon as the cold air hit his face, everything dawned on him.
He’s really letting her stay in his guest room?
She’s maybe 20 at the oldest. He doesn’t even know her age, just her first name and why she goes to college.
He was joking before about the serial killer comment but what if she is?
And what if she-
“Sid? Are you ok? This is my car”
He was snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the car she was standing at, about to get in.
He nodded and pointed to his car that was a couple cars in front of hers.
“I’ll pull out and you can follow me” he said and smiled.
He turned to walk to his car as he heard y/n shut her car door. He let out a breath he had been holding in and made his way to his car.
As he got into the drivers seat and closed the door, he stared at the steering wheel.
If this was any other person, he would’ve left right away. But something was different when it came to y/n. She seemed different, like she needed help. Some sort of extra support.
Sidney isn’t a parent but he knows when his paternal instincts come in, and when he heard she was be staying in a freezing cold apartment, he couldn’t let that happen.
He finally snapped out of his thoughts and started his car up, making sure y/n was behind him through his review mirror as he pulled away.
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meowcats734 · 3 months
Text
[Soulmage] Alchemy is possible; but instead of turning lead into gold, you can only turn gold into lead.
Soulmage
The only sapient Demon of Empathy in the Redlands closed their eyes and thought of death. Ever since they'd merged with their siblings, Odin had found the near-constant sleet of new empathy-charged soul fragments rather distracting, and so they'd learned to tune out the noise. Now, however, they needed to perform their daily ritual of sorting through their soul for anything of value, and burning off the rest. It was a hallucinogenic, disorienting, hours-long task, but it was necessary nonetheless.
Odin did not sleep, but today, they dreamed.
"Caw," I said, ruffling my feathers, and Astrenn giggled as I tried to cheer her up. The flowers shifted in the breeze.
The snow cave was unbearably hot, my skin feverish despite the crust of ice, and I huddled into my fellow soldier's body. I could tell from the tension in his gritted jaw that he was burning up too, his body gone haywire as he died in the frost.
I winked at Kino as I stabbed the crude puppet of Cienne, then held its impaled body over the fire. He guffawed, and I slapped his shoulder in companionship as we planned the death of a hated man.
Odin furrowed their brow. Ah, that would be the outcome of Iola's battle with Cienne. Despite the sponsorship of the Outside, it seemed as though being outnumbered four to one had evened the odds between Iola and Cienne. Odin quested deeper into the memory fragment, pushing at its boundaries; reluctantly, the shard complied, cracking from the strain as Odin rewound it to its beginning.
"Catch," Kino said, tossing me a bundle of cloth. My head snapped up, trailing droplets of flesh, as I snatched it from the air and unfolded it, scowling.
"This had better be good, Kino," I growled. "I just spent two days in the Plane of Elemental Antimagic, and I am pissed. If this is another one of your inane..." I trailed off as I saw what he'd made.
An effigy of the only man to best me.
My face split in a wide humber as I turned towards Kino. "Oh, Kino, you shouldn't have! You know me too well. This is just what I needed to have some real fun. You sly rascal, c'mere." I extended my arms and gave Kino a wide-open hug. After a moment, I withdrew, turning my dorceless eyes towards the unsuspecting doll.
"Gotcha," I whispered with a squelch, and in the corner, Kino mimicked the panicked scream of a stuck-up poacher getting what he deserved.
Odin peeled back from the memory, grimacing. They would have to pore over that memory later in detail—if nothing else, to determine what it was like to feel those eldritch emotions—but for now, they had more important things to deal with. Iola was dead, and slain by their actions; perhaps in times of peace, Odin would have spent the decades necessary to find that core of a good person that they believed all people had within them, but for now, there were other matters to attend to.
Other souls to save.
It took another twelve hours for Odin to sort through the last few weeks of memories, but once they had carefully funneled the useful ones into safe sections of their soul, they compacted the rest into their metabolic core, where they would be burned to sustain Odin's existence over the next month or so.
When they opened their eyes, they found a stack of neatly-aligned papers waiting for them. Ah, that would be the research division's daily report. Odin sifted through it—marginal progress on all fronts, as they'd expected. The breakthrough in creating attunements had led to a flurry of new discoveries, but research progressed slowly, and a day's worth of verified findings was still small enough to fit comfortably in a hand-sized pamphlet. The properties of the Plane of Elemental Falsehood were still being tested; nobody could identify what the strange substance that wood turned into was, but it appeared that gold became lead and snow became cotton under the strange transformation that was the power of insecurity. 
More mundane results also featured in the research pamphlet. A mixture of various acids appeared to have the bizarre ability to corrode gold in realspace; the chemistry department was still uncertain if it could be reproduced in soulspace, but with the infinity of possibilities that had sprung from their discovery that attunements could be combined, it seemed likely that they would find a reaction pathway eventually.
Odin found it endlessly amusing that Cienne had independently reached that discovery himself, only a few days after Odin's dedicated research team had found it. If they hadn't been forced by the pressures of wartime to burn that bridge, they might have considered pushing harder to recruit Cienne—but they'd done the poor boy enough harm. Better to let him live his life, free of the horrors of war.
Then again, Odin supposed that they shouldn't have been surprised at Cienne's pace of innovation. The boy was a student of the Silent Academy, after all—and despite all their flaws, they were an institute of higher education. Odin's primary objective in freeing the students of the Silent Academy was moral in nature, but they had to admit that formally-educated researchers with standardized methodologies had drastically sped up the pace at which the Order of Valhalla could develop new spells and technologies.
Which had... worrying implications for how much further ahead of them the Silent Peaks' level of advancement truly was. Had their experiments with Eldritch emotions truly come from Outside? Or... worse, had they discovered them independently?
Perhaps today would bring answers. Odin finished reading the summary of today's progress, committing it to memory, and sighed. It was time for the part of the day they dreaded most.
It was time for today's Three Truths.
Odin stood from their desk, pushing in the chair as an afterthought, and exited their office, stepping into the main atrium. They weren't stupid enough to keep their Truthteller in their main base of operations, but the research team assigned here had gotten large enough that some construction was warranted. At the very least, Odin mused, the past five decades had seen some favorable amenities crop up. Odin had no need to eat—their body was maintained solely by the synchronization between their soul and realspace—but they appreciated how the research staff had somewhere to sit and eat while they took breaks. 
There was no secret entrance, no elaborate maze, no over-the-top security guarding the Truthteller. The only defenses Odin employed were a warding scheme to prevent scrying and the undying loyalty of their staff; they had even made sure that every moment spent with the Truthteller was as charged with empathy as possible, so that no memories of what laid within would leak even in death. Each one of the researchers here had once been lost, wayward children; each one, Odin had saved and raised as if they were their own. If Odin had strayed so far from the path of empathy that their own loved ones could be tempted into being traitors, then Odin deserved to be betrayed. That was all the insurance they needed.
Even before opening the door politely marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, Odin knew what they would see. It had been the work of a century and a half to assemble the Truthteller, although much of that was spent puzzling out the hints the Outsiders wove into the fabric of the cosmos.
Of all things, it was the memory of a shaman that had tipped Odin off to the irregularity in the stars. Odin supposed that it made sense—the Redlander communities that had lived here two centuries ago put great cultural emphasis on starwatching—but they were still frustrated with themself for not noticing the patterns in how the stars flickered earlier. It had taken another four years of concerted thought to discover the simplest pattern of the lot, and the first hint that greater forces were at play.
Because the stars encoded messages.
The easiest one to figure out had been how Persei spelled out the first twenty prime numbers, over and over and over again. Odin still looked up at the night sky every now and then to check on it. Ahmael and Tanryn, may the arrogant old man who named the stars after himself rest in peace, worked together to establish three-dimensional coordinates. Van's enigmatic light extended those coordinates from realspace to thoughtspace. Hampern, Lorn, and Quie used those coordinates to describe emotional planes. From emotions, it was trivial to reach materials; from coordinates, it was as easy as breathing to make shapes.
Odin was no great scientific genius, but they were an immortal presented with a mystery they could not crack. Twenty years of curious chipping later, they determined what the stars were saying.
They were a blueprint. And they were telling Odin—and anyone else who listened—to make a machine.
Odin opened the door to the basement and beheld the Truthteller.
Nobody had the slightest idea how it worked. From realspace, it looked like a massive metal dish, connected to a complex tangle of levers and wires. In thoughtspace, it spanned twenty-seven different emotional planes, each containing various offshoots of the Truthteller's machinery. Most worryingly, in soulspace, it was undeniably alive.
Half a century ago, when the final gear had been slotted into place, the machine had immediately reconfigured itself, offering a series of puzzles in binary that eventually culminated in the Truthteller comprehending their language. Upon the final binary puzzle's solution, the Truthteller spoke for the very first time.
"CONGRATULATIONS. YOU ARE THE FIFTH. KNOWLEDGE WILL BE REWARDED. YOU HAVE THREE ATTEMPTS PER DAY."
The experimentation that had followed was hasty, and Odin was still not certain that they understood all of the Truthteller's rules. But they understood enough.
The researchers in the room gave Odin polite, tense nods. Dathenn raised her eyebrow as Odin entered.
"Here for the Three Truths?" she asked. Rhetorically, of course. There was nothing else to be here for.
In response, Odin simply nodded.
"Don't expect anything big," Dathenn warned. 
"You always live up to my expectations," Odin said. "And my expectations are always grand."
Dathenn gave Odin a warm smile before turning to the Truthteller. She pulled a lever, and the machine made a polite cough in response.
"Truthteller," Dathenn said. "Are you ready?"
"OF COURSE."
"Very well. The first of the truths we have to offer is this." Dathenn consulted her notes. "Gold can be dissolved in a mixture of gastric acid, and acid of saltpeter."
The Truthteller hummed in response. "THIS TRUTH... IS KNOWN TO US."
Dathenn nodded to herself. "Thank you, Truthteller." It was unknowable whether or not the Truthteller had a concept of politeness, but it had become something of a superstition in the decades since its construction. Nobody wanted to be the one to anger the unfathomable machine, after all. "The second of the truths we have to offer is this. Gold can be transmuted to lead through the application of Elemental Falsehood."
"THIS TRUTH... IS KNOWN TO US," the machine repeated.
Dathenn began to speak, but Odin held up a finger.
"Truthteller," Odin said, "I would like to offer you a third truth."
The researchers in the room shared confused glances, but nobody spoke up. 
"SPEAK," the Truthteller said.
"You have been assisting the Silent Peaks, as fair recompense for their developments in magic and science," Odin began.
"THIS TRUTH... IS KNOWN TO—"
"But," Odin interrupted, "the Silent Peaks are a political and ideological enemy of ours, whom we are at war with. Your assistance of them has impeded our ability to gain scientific and magical knowledge, which is at odds with your stated goals," Odin calmly stated.
Silence fell in the chamber of the Truthteller.
"THIS TRUTH... IS NOT KNOWN TO US," the Truthteller finally admitted.
"Then as recompense for my knowledge, I would like to claim a reward."
"...PROCEED."
"You have recently granted the Silent Peaks the ability to convert ordinary witches into eldritch beings of extreme power," Odin said. "I wish to know how to turn them back."
The Truthteller hummed to itself, considering the request.
Then it spoke.
"IT IS KNOWN THAT SOULS ARE INDESTRUCTIBLE. IT IS ALSO KNOWN THAT MEMORIES ARE CONSUMED TO SUSTAIN THE EXISTENCE OF SOULSPACE ENTITIES. HOW, THEN, IS THE PARADOX RESOLVED?"
Odin glanced at Dathenn, who was already studiously taking notes, then back at the Truthteller. "This truth is not known to us," Odin diplomatically said.
"THEN ANSWER ME THIS. I HAVE ASSESSED YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF REALSPACE AND THOUGHTSPACE, AND FOUND IT SUFFICIENT FOR YOU TO COMPREHEND THIS EXERCISE. SO INFORM ME. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF SOULSPACE?"
And Odin smiled, for at last they were given a question to which they knew the answer.
A.N.
Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!
This prompt was written by my Patreons! To get episodes ahead of time, or if you want to write me a prompt, check my Patreon out here.
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shiroriia · 1 year
Text
Theme 1: Tease
"Meitantei, look what I found!"
The said detective looked up from the Sherlock Holmes collections that he's been reading. "What is it, Kaito?"
Grinning, the ex-phantom thief plopped down next to Shinichi on the couch while waving a leather covered album in the air. "Guess."
Shinichi rolled his eyes and was about to proceed to go back to reading his book until Kaito interrupted him once more. "C'mon, Shin-chan. It'll be worth it. Just take a look, just once. Alright? I promise you I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you take a look. "
Sighing, the detective complied.
Outside the Kudo Manor, a thick blanket of snow had covered the streets of Beika. It has been snowing for a few days and the weather was cold. The cases that Shinichi was running into has been few, and the detective couldn't help but wonder if it's Kaito's luck that has balanced out his own.
The album seemed old and the corners were yellowing with time. A few places were filled with cracks. Shinichi had to gently lift the pages so they don't come apart. But it was that moment, he regretted turning the pages as he finally remembered what that album was about. But it was too late as Kaito already saw what the first picture was.
"Ahahahah! Meitantei, that's you?" Kaito laughed loudly. "Didn't think your mom would take such an embarrassing picture of you. Bathing at that? Oh man, you look exactly like when you were tantei-san. Oh my, how cute."
At this point, he could barely sit up straight as he had to hold on to Shinichi to keep himself upright. And Shinichi? The poor detective was blushing furiously as hints of pink was seen at the tips of his ears.
"Did you had enough of a laugh? If so, then get off of me."
Hearing that Shinichi's voice was stern with a hint of crossness, Kaito let go of Shinichi and ceased laughing. "Sorry, Shin-chan. You were just too cute."
The detective was quiet. His Sherlock Holmes collections sat next to him, forgotten. After a bit, he stood up. "I'm going to make myself some coffee."
"Sure. Oh, by the way. Did you eat?"
"I'm not hungry."
As if to deny Shinichi's words, his stomach growled loudly. Kaito chuckled. "As promised, you can go back to your books. I'll make you something to eat. Don't worry, won't forget about your beloved coffee."
Shinichi only stood still, back turned to Kaito.
"Shin-chan?" Kaito tiled his head and questioned.
"It's nothing. Thanks, Kaito."
Kaito couldn't see Shinichi's expression, and his tone of voice seemed calm. He knew something was up, but he decided that it's not a good time to bring it up, so he shrugged it off till later to talk about it with Shinichi. "No problem. I'll let you know when food is ready."
Wordless, Shinichi turned around and sat back down next to Kaito and picked up the book again. The ex-phantom thief gave Shinichi a look before going to the kitchen to prepare some food for his beloved detective.
As promised, Kaito didn't bother Shinichi for the rest of the day. However, the album incident continued to bug him. When it was time for bed, Kaito decided to talk to Shinichi about it.
He waited till Shinichi got on his side of the bed and turned the lights off before coughing awkwardly.
"Ne, Shin-chan....."
"Hmm?"
Oh good, his detective wasn't ignoring him. "Are you upset?"
He heard the sound of turning next to him. "Upset? What do you mean?"
"Y'know, when I showed you the album."
There was a moment of silence. Kaito thought Shinichi was going to ignore him, but to his surprise, he responded.
"Well, yes and no."
This time, it was Kaito who was silent. He waited till Shinichi spoke again. "It was.... embarrassing..."
Oh, so that's why he's been awkward all afternoon.
"You know, you're cute."
"What-?"
Kaito laughed. "Hold on, before you throw me off the bed. Lemme explain. Yes. You're cute. It's very adorable to see you getting all worked up over something like this. But if I teased you too much and you don't like it, please let me know. I don't want to make you upset. So, yeah. Sorry I made you upset. Will you forgive me?"
"Mhm."
Kaito smiled. He turned and pulled Shinichi into his arms and nuzzled into his neck. Shinichi was about to struggle but decided not to since he's been ignoring the poor ex-phantom thief all day. Besides, he's already apologized so there's no need to stay mad at him.
"Love you, my beloved detective."
"L-love you too...."
"I know."
"D-don't be too smug!"
"Hai, hai~"
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redheadspark · 9 months
Note
Number 11 with Jack Russell from Werewolf By Night. Happy New Year, by the way! 🎉✨
A/N - Awww beyond cute for Jack! Thanks for requesting, and a Happy New Year to you too!
Summary - You remind Jack of the day he asked you on a date.
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Warnings - Just cute fluff :)
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“Jack, we need to talk about your poker face,”
“I beg your pardon,”
You giggled as you were perched on the couch and watching your husband as he was making himself a cup of coffee in your small kitchenette.  
“Your poker face,” You explained as you sipped your tea, “Meaning you are horrible at remaining cool and calm in a stressed situation,”  
“Ah,” Jack said in a snort as he poured the coffee into his mug, “You might be right in that department, Amor,”
“As I recall, back when you and I met, you were smitten by me,” You explained, seeing him smile widely from the kitchen while you were leaning back on the couch and clutching your mug in your fingers, “Remember that afternoon?  The bookstore on that corner in Paris?”
“You mean the best day of my life?  Of course I do, Amor,” Jack smoothly replied, finally walking over to the couch to sit across from you.  He looked well relaxed compared to the last few jobs that he had to work on, which was stressful to say the very least.  But he made sure to work hard to get a few more dollars in his pocket for the pair of you to have your own staycation of sorts, a few weeks off of work and simply enjoying your time together.  It was much needed, his monster-hunting business would take him around the world and push him to his limit.  Your job, although remote, was beyond stressful with long hours and a tyrant of a boss who would breathe down your back constantly.  
But that you two had some time together, you both weren’t going to waste it for one moment.
“It was a summer day, and you were reading out of the Classic Literature Section,” Jack reminded you while you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch and watching the first of the snowfall right outside the window, “I thought you were gorgeous with the sun shining in your hair,”
“And I thought you were daring reading from the gothic horror section, not to mention handsome,” You added as he simply smiled, “And from what I remember, it took you some time to express your feelings for me,”
Jack paused before he went in to drink his coffee, thinking about it for a moment to two and his brows knitted in confusion.  He cleared his throat, “That is both true and…. untrue,”
“Oh really?” You asked coyly as he rolled his eyes.
“I was of course intrigued with you and your knowledge of books, but you are also intimidating to me and that made me not wish to ask you on a date for the longest time,” He explained, “I wanted to take my time with you in wooing and courting you,”
“You and your old-fashioned way of life is beyond sexy…but you were taking a bit too long,” you teased. “You waited for some time before you finally summoned the courage to ask me on a date.  And you were blushing like mad!”
“I wasn’t blushing!  It was hot out!” He said in a huff as you laughed.
“It was literally snowing outside as we spoke, are you joking?” You asked, Jack cracking a grin as he shrugged.  You remembered that day very well.  You two being good friends for a few weeks and constantly talking about books and old fables and tales that you both were in love with.  That started as a love for books grew into a genuine friendship, and perhaps something more that was felt underneath between the pair of you.  Jack was more faired in asking you on a date than facing any monster on the planet.  He was more afraid of you and your quick wit, your wicked sense of humor, and the inside smile you would flash him.    
When he asked you, his palms were sweating and his heart was going beyond fast in his chest.  Yet you were cool and calm as he asked, you think it was the best thing in the world as he stammered over his words.  But you saw past that, you saw his genuine kindness that was rare to see in a man nowadays, you saw the thirst to do good in his heart when you two talked about acts of service.  
When you said yes, Jack could have sworn he died and went to heaven.  
“Still, I considered it one of the best days of my life,” Jack said as he wrapped an arm around you and tucked you close to him, “The fact you said yes was beyond shocking,”
“How so?” You asked as you slapped his arm, “How could I say no to you when I was taken by you from the start?”
Jack blushed as you pecked his cheek with your lips.  You both came so far as a couple since then, moving in together a few months after dating and being official.  You loved having a routine with Jack, though at times you were worried for his safety since he would come home from jobs with busted lips or broken bones.  But he always held you close and told you he was alright, nothing would ever bring him enough pain.  He also helped you in finding time yourself as you were working your stressful job, taking you on weekend trips for the pair of you to enjoy together.  His loving nature with you was all you would ever need in a relationship with anyone, and you knew deep down no one would be better than Jack.
You both drank from your mugs and watched the snow fall, making you think back to that day when everything changed and your lives intertwined forever.   
The End
January Prompt Session
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l-lenny · 10 months
Text
Dumb Krum … I love you too!
Part 8
Viktor Krum x Malfoy! Fem! Reader x Fred Weasley
TW: dash of angst at the beginning
SERIES MASTERLIST
—————
Viktor caressed your cheek and sighed loudly. Looking you in the eye, his eyes started to water. “Ve should head back to the rooms” he said as he turned around and walked off. You stood there. Just stood there looking at the direction he disappeared. What was that?! That was your moment! This was supposed to be the kiss of your life! The moment he comforted you and tell you he loves you!? What happened?! Staying silent new rage wave got you and you just spiralled. Wanting to scream but also wanting to cry at the same time.
Why did he do that if he wasn’t going to kiss you! Slumping down you let your tears run wild. Why did it hurt more than anything else. Heart in pieces, the silent rejection was more hurtful than saying it. You felt every piece of your heart cracking and screaming in agony. Crying your soul out you curled in a ball. Hoping nobody would see you.
You managed to get yourself down the tower and prepared to go to the dungeon to meet with Snape. In reality your only desire right now was to curl up in bed, not to go to detention. And it was potion professor non the less. With puffy eyes you dragged yourself to detention, you knew that you missed dinner. Yet you didn’t care. Entering the classroom you saw Snape and one other student. “Fred?” You asked “Y/n?” He smiled when he saw you. Snape scoffed “this isn’t a reunion” he spat.
After that you were stuck cleaning everything in the supply cabinet by hand! Snape took your wands and said he will return them after detention. “Y/n?” Fred asked you. “Why are you at detention” he was curious. You told him how that no brain treated you. For him defending him that he was a better date to the ball Fred was laughing at that fool and promised to set his pants on fire for you. You felt better, not fixed, but better. Fred wanted to ask you about your puffy eyes but he kept it for himself. Joking with you and cleaning, lifting your mood and seeing your smile was all enough for him to know you were happy.
Your smile was radiant to him. Seeing you like that brings his heart to stop for a moment before it release the butterflies into his stomach. He was falling so deep and he didn’t stand a chance if you rejected him. “Oh and I wanted to ask” he said remembering why he wanted to talk to you. “What colour will be your dress? I wanted to match with my-“ you smiled at him so tenderly. Oh he was so thoughtful. “I will match your house colours” y/n admitted shyly. “My formal dress are mainly reds and browns, but I will wear a touch of gold” she matched his house colours perfectly. He smiled at her and nodded “I am sure you would look good in any colour, but I am so excited to see you in red” he said. Something in you moved with his words. You wished it was Viktors words. But at the same time, you were smiling and feeling happy because Fred said it. Emotions are really confusing for you. Being surrounded by boys most of the time you weren’t able to talk it out with girls as most of the others. You were so confused right now.
Ending detention with a warning from Snape you headed to bed. To be honest you were exhausted from all the crying, cleaning, and talking.
Christmas was slowly coming and that meant the Yule Ball was around the corner. You kept your distance from Viktor even though it hurt you and him. You talked just about trials and study related things. Days slowly passed just as snow outside. Being the Durmstrang champion around this time was harsh. Constant interviews from the press, mostly Rita, the exams, preparations for next trial and the Yule Ball. You had almost no time to ponder if you should go for it with Viktor or if you fancied Fred. That was on one hand good for you. You have been busy and that was kind of relief. But slowly and surely it doned upon you that you would have to see Vik with Hermione at the Ball. You didn’t disliked her. You just saw her as someone who was by Viktors side. And that fact irritated you. Sure if you met at your own accord you would be friends, well maybe. But this wasn’t the case.
Brushing your hair, letting it fall down and styling it. Taking your enchanted golden pearls, you got for your 10th birthday, you made them fit into your hair, making it shine. Taking gold pair of earrings you polished it and put them in your ears. You were not that familiar with make up, only way it was put on you was by your mother, but for tonight you tried your best. Keeping it light and natural you looked at yourself in the mirror. Rosy cheeks, big lashes, light eyeshadow on the eye and red lipstick. You looked breathtaking. Adjusting your jewellery, rings and necklaces you finished your outfit with the half cape fur coat. You wore trational formal dress of Durmstrang. It was red robe with long skirt and slight pattern that was visible in the light. You make sure your golden shoes were extra shiny and when you make your final and last check up in the mirror you were ready. Thanks to letter send by McGonagal you knew you will be in the hall last.
Christmas Day night was about to celebrate the Yule Ball in full swing. You were nervous but excited to see Fred. Were you excited to see Viktor? Yes of course. But seeing him with Hermione? It was a different story.
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la-taegi · 10 months
Text
[Yoonmin] Winters Song and Dance
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Jimin, the dancer, and Yoongi, the pianist both practice late into the night. One particularly hard night, Jimin sneaks into Yoongi's favorite place to practice at 2 AM to listen to him play originally posted on AO3
Tags: Fluff, Comfort, I love them.
The auditorium was dark, filled with warm air. Hundreds of red velour seats with no one sitting in them. It was empty except for the dust particles that Yoongi could see floating around in the soft yellow light that shone over the stage. This was Yoongis favorite spot to play. He often would sneak into this auditorium through the windows that were cracked open due to the lack of ventilation. He sat comfortably at the piano whenever his thoughts carried him to uncomfortable memories, or dark places. Stress seemed to relieve itself from his shoulders as he pressed into the keys. His eyes closed as he felt the heat of the stage lights on his skin, which would usually bother him except for the fact that snow was piling on the windowsill he climbed through. Some might say it was a bit stuffy, but Yoongi found it to be perfect.
He was so entranced in the melody that played from his fingers that he didn’t notice the creaking window being slid open, nor the figure that came in through it. Cheeks and nose red from the bitter cold outside, Park Jimin tried to be as quiet as possible as not to disturb Yoongis practice. His limbs were aching from dancing into the wee hours of the night. He didn't even take off his leotard. He felt so tired. Feeling the burn in his calves, Jimin wonders if he went too hard this time. He had already tried texting Yoongi, but after no reply he knew he would be here, in this auditorium. Yoongi hadn’t noticed him yet, it was perfect. Jimin sat in one of the chairs hidden in the shadows to listen to him play for a while.
It was a couple of minutes. Yoongi swayed his body back and forth, hunched slightly with his eyes closed as his hands drifted across the keys. Jimin felt so at peace. He loved listening to him play, but hearing him play when he thought no one else was listening was a completely different experience. He watched as Yoongi played a few more measures, his eyes opening halfway in a state of total relaxation and contentment. Jimin saw a lazy smile tug at the corners of Yoongis mouth as the song wrapped up. Oh. So he knew Jimin was there the whole time didn’t he…
“Enjoy the show?” Yoongis voice echoed through the theatre, amused but still soft. “How’d you know I was here?”
Jimin stood up, walking onto the wooden stage ignoring the ache running through his muscles, “I tried to text you hyung~.” He pouts “I knew you’d be here after you didn’t reply or at least read my message within 10 minutes.”
Yoongi laughs a little, turning his body to face the dancer. “Were you hungry?” He asks. Usually, Yoongi would be furious with anyone trying to interrupt his private time with his piano, but this was Jimin and he could never be mad at him when he has such a cute pout on his face and rosy cheeks from the cold.
“No hyung, just was tired and wanted to see you” Jimin mumbles, shifting his weight to one side to avoid hurting his calf anymore than he already did today. Yoongi stares at him for a moment, then his eyes soften and he pats the piano seat next to him, “Sit” he says quietly.
Jimin sits down next to Yoongi, both still facing away from the piano. Yoongi places a hand on Jimins thigh out of habit, and was shocked when he heard Jimin whine in pain. “Jiminie-” his eyes widened as Jimins squeezed shut. Damn, that was the leg that was hurting. “Sorry, just…” Jimin starts, “I’ve been practicing since 10 am today, since I had the day off.” He twiddles his thumbs, staring down at them as he explains. He knows Yoongi is looking at him with worry and doesnt want to see.
Yoongi removes his hand from Jimins leg and instead gently tllts Jimins head up so that he faces him. “You worked hard Jimin-ah. I’m worried about this, but I’m glad you came to see me.” His eyes were serious and warm at the same time. He leans forward to press a soft kiss on Jimins forehead. “Stay still for a minute” He whispers.
Yoongi gets onto the ground and Jimin is confused. A hand is placed back on Jimins leg and gently squeezes a few times as it makes it's way down to his ankle. “Yeah, your leg’s all tense Jimin-ah..” Yoongi frowns. “Let hyung help.”
Yoongi massages the tight muscles of Jimins calves, his hands working into the knots. “Hyung.. You dont have to..” Jimin pouts as he feels relief flooding his body. “Thats enough of that,” Yoongi chuckles “Taking care of you also makes me feel better, so just look at it as a selfish act.”
So there they were, on the stage, Yoongis magic hands taking the pain away from Jimins muscles. Nothing but silence and the occasional breeze that comes in through the open window. When Yoongi is done, he sits back next to Jimin, who yawns and smiles “Thank you hyung. It feels much better.” He blushes as Yoongi ruffles his hair and faces the piano. While staring at the keys, Yoongi pats his shoulder, asking Jimin to rest on it.
It took a second for Jimin to register the red flushing Yoongis cheeks. It’s enough to make Jimin smile widely and graciously accept his offer. Yoongis lips jut out in an embarrassed pout, which only make Jimin giggle and hug the older boy.
Yoongis hands land on the piano keys gracefully, and he starts to play another song. This one was another soft melody, like the one he played before. This time, it was for Jimin. “Rest. Hyung will wake you when we leave” He whispers, leaning his head against Jimins. He can feel the soft hair brushing his cheek as he glides his hands across the grand piano. Jimin nods and hums something, tightening his arms around Yoongis's waist until the music carries him to sleep.
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everything-person · 10 months
Text
Kazoos Advent Calendar
@kazoosandfannypacks Day
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Well it’s officially been a week of gifts. Hopefully the gifts haven’t been disappointing and made you at least crack a smile. Is there anything you’d like to see or have me mix in?? Any advice??
Without further ado here is todays gift.
Summary: Henry surprises his mother with a visit home around the holidays. But he comes home to the house not decorated and a strange man is there. (Inspired by A Muppets Family Christmas)
Haul out the holly
We’re getting home so we can celebrate
Fill up the stockings
We may be rushing but we can hardly wait now
For we need a little Christmas, right this very minute
Jacinda reached over and turned down the radio, “Henry are you sure your moms is going to be okay with this?”
“Oh absolutely! Cin you need to know one thing about my mom she’s predictable.” Henry glanced at his girlfriend, seeing one eyebrow lifted and her lips quirked to the side, looking back at the road he continued, “Look I know exactly what she is doing right now. She sitting in our house, everything decorated tree in the corner. She sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, in front of the fire, cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon in her hands. Just a bit sad thinking she will spend the holidays alone. Trust me she will be thrilled.”
“Mhmm,” Jacinda hummed, still unsure this surprise is going to go as Henry said.
They continued to drive down the road as snow flurries began to fall on the scenery. It wasn’t long before they passed an intricately carved sign reading ‘Welcome to Storybrooke.’ And not long after that they pulled up to a blue Victorian style house starting to be covered in a layer of snow.
“Hmmm?”
Jacinda paused before getting out the car looking over at her boyfriend who seemed busy scanning the house. “What?”
“She didn’t decorate the outside like we usually do.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Come on.” Henry got out of the car racing up the steps, Jacinda following cautiously behind him.
Henry knocked on the door with in minutes it flew open. He was welcomed with the sight of his mother. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. It took her a moment of her opening and closing her mouth blinking rapidly before she was able to muster up words.
“Henry?”
“Hi mom.”
A forced chuckle escaped her lips and a smile crept to her face and she moved aside to allow him in and enveloped him in a hug. Jacinda didn’t miss when the smile dropped for a moment over Henry’s shoulder.
“Henry what are you doing here?” She asked pulling out of the hug.
“I can’t come home.”
Emma gave him a light tap on his arm causing him to laugh, “Of course you can. But I thought you were staying at school for the break?”
Henry shrugged, “We wanted to surprise you.”
It was in that moment she realized there was someone else with her son. “Jacinda?”
“Hi Ms Swan.”
Emma came forward taking the girls hand, “it’s so good to finally meet you in person.”
“You as well Ms Swan.”
“So? Do you like your surprise?” Henry asked, wanting a little bit to prove his girlfriend wrong.
“Yes! I always love seeing you,” she shifted slightly, “It’s just that…”
Henry took a look around and saw his childhood home was bare completely unlike the Christmas he knew growing up. “Mom where is everything? Where’s the tree? The lights? The garland?”
“Well-” Before she was able to answer everyone’s attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. A man with greying in his bread and hair came bounding down the stairs.
“Who was at the door-” the man looked up before finishing his sentence, “oh hello.”
“Hi,” Henry greeted then turned to his mother, “mom who’s that?”
The gentleman spoke up again, “Ah you must be Henry,” he continued down the stairs approaching the small group with his hand out stretched, “a pleasure.”
Henry cautiously took his hand, “Yeah. I’m sorry who are you?”
“My apologies. Killian Jones I’m-“
“Renting the house!”
Everyone turned at Emma loud interruption.
She let out a nervous laugh, “Kid you know how much I love the beach. When I found out you weren’t coming home I decided to treat myself and take a trip down the coast and have a sandy Christmas instead of being cooped up here. You know all by myself.” Her eyes nervously shifting between her son and the man next to her, “I didn’t want to house to sit so Mr Jones was going to stay here.”
Henry and Jacinda looked back at the man who’s smile now seemed tighter, “Aye. I usually live on my boat figured I could get my land legs back this season and have a nice quiet Christmas.”
“I’m sorry if we have ruined both of your plans,” Jacinda spoke up, eyeing her boyfriend, “we should’ve called.”
“It’s quite alright lass.”
Henry spoke up again, “I’m sorry Mr Jones. Will it take you long to gather your things? I’m sure my mom would be willing to give you a refund.”
Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, “Unfortunately I can’t leave. My boat is in storage and with the storm coming in it doesn’t seem safe to be on it now. And with it being a week from Christmas I doubt any inns will be available.”
“I’m sure we can figure something out later. Henry why don’t you go get your guys luggage and take it up to your room.”
“Let me help you lad,” Killian offered.
As Henry turned exited back out the door missing the silent exchange Mr Jones had with his mother. But Jacinda didn’t.
When they were gone emma turned to Jacinda and smiled, “I guess we have some decorating to do. Mind helping me bring some up from the basement?”
“Lead the way.”
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sacredsnape · 2 years
Text
I'm finally back with a Sev Christmas oneshot! I won't be accepting or answering requests for a while (including the ones in my inbox) as I'm currently still very busy working on my severitus fic. However, I will be writing and posting oneshots, blurbs, etc whenever an idea comes to me! Happy holidays everyone <3
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Summary: You spend your first Christmas with Severus after the war and make it unforgettable for him
Genre: fluff/implied smut
Gender neutral reader, post war, Snape!lives AU
Warnings: none
Link to masterlist
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"It's seven in the morning, Y/N. I am not waking up."
"Oh come on, Sev. I've made you coffee and pastries! They're in the kitchen and they're going to get cold if you don't wake up!"
You grabbed your husband by his arm and tugged hard, nearly losing your footing on the plush rug by yours and his shared bed. Severus groaned and buried his face further into his pillow, whining at you to leave him be.
You huffed indignantly, straightening yourself out before crawling into bed next to him. You snuggled closely and Severus cracked open one bleary eye to look at you, a smile threatening to pull at his lips when he saw the excited look on your face.
"It's Christmas, Sev," you told him, running a warm hand down his cold face. Severus seemingly melted into your touch, his tense shoulders relaxing and his eyes opening fully. You caressed his cheekbone, admiring his beauty; those dark, mysterious eyes that you loved to gaze in, and those soft, full lips that you loved to kiss and trail your fingers across. His gorgeous nose that you loved to peck and nibble on, those skilled fingers that you loved to play with and intertwine with your own. The long, jagged scar on his neck from Nagini's bite was a stark reminder of the war and how he had barely survived it.
Severus was beautiful, especially with the reflections of snow outside casting across his face. You stopped your hand at his cheek, your lips parted as you gazed at him. Severus raised his eyebrows in confusion at you, still not quite used to you finding him genuinely attractive.
"It's our first Christmas together after the war," you spoke softly, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. The fear that you had felt when he had been in the hospital for months after Nagini's bite was indescribable; it was the worst time of both yours and Severus's life. It had only been two months since he was released from the hospital.
Severus's smile finally cracked and you smiled in return, pressing your lips to his this time. You slid a hand through his thick hair, knotting your fingers in the locks as Severus pressed himself into your, his lips moving in rhythm with yours.
"It is," Severus hummed as he pulled away, cupping your face and pecking the tip of your nose; his voice was still slightly hoarse from where Nagini had bit him. He sighed heavily, running delicate fingers across his scar and wincing like it had hurt him. "I'm glad I'm here and safe with you."
You grinned widely at him, feeling his hand trail beyond your face and down your chest, your breath hitching. Before things could escalate any further, you pulled back and mumbled, "Let's get ready for the day and eat breakfast. We can't fuck on empty stomachs."
Severus rolled his eyes and playfully pinched your cheek. He sat up in bed and pulled you along with him, the two of you stumbling into the bathroom to shower and get ready.
Twenty minutes later, you and Severus found yourselves in the kitchen enjoying coffee and treacle tart. Severus had insisted on eating on the couch for maximum comfort and that's exactly what you did, your legs draped across his lap as you merrily sipped from your coffee mug.
"Minerva wrote me last night saying that she had received our Christmas card," Severus told you as he wiped his mouth clean. "I still can't believe that you made me wear a Santa costume for that."
"You looked cute!" you defended, placing your mug down on the coffee table. "You look cute in anything."
Severus rolled his eyes so hard that they nearly disappeared into the back of his head. "You're only saying that because you love me," he retorted, his classic sardonic attitude never wavering over the years.
"And because it's the truth," you replied coolly, pressing your socked feet into his thigh. Severus placed a singular large hand around your ankles and gently pushed your feet away. Your heart fluttered at how easily his hand could fit around both of your ankles; he was so big all over and your size difference with him made you feel safe.
"You and your silly socks," Severus remarked in an amused tone, staring at your mismatching socks; one of them was black and decorated with golden snitches, while the other one was blue and decorated with snowmen.
"You're the one who bought them for me," you giggled, stretching your legs across his lap and eating your treacle tart.
"And you're the one who lost their matching counterparts, so now you have to wear the mismatching pairs," Severus deadpanned, although a faint smile was on his lips. He ran his hands across your legs, picking at the loose threads in your plaid sweatpants. He missed the simple moments like these, especially when he was in the hospital.
You set your plate to the side to sit up, sliding yourself onto Severus's lap unexpectedly. He hummed lowly in his throat, his hands instinctively landing on your waist and holding you there. He shifted his hips beneath you, heat rushing to his cheeks as you hooked your arms around the back of his neck and held him close.
"I have something for you," you said, trailing warm kisses along his jawline. Severus bit his lip, tightening his hold on your waist as he answered, "I have something for you as well."
Before you could respond, he hooked your legs around his waist and picked you up. You gasped and laughed, holding onto him tightly as he carried you towards the twinkling Christmas tree in the center of the living room. Numerous presents surrounded the tree and Severus set you down in the middle of the heap of presents.
Severus sat down next to you, crossing his legs as he reached for the nearest present. It was wrapped in maroon wrapping paper and tied together with a golden bow that glittered under the Christmas tree lights as Severus handed it to you.
"Merry Christmas, my love," Severus smiled as you excitedly tore open the present to reveal a beautiful amethyst necklace engraved with yours and Severus's initials, along with a Mason jar full of several small pieces of colorful paper that were all labeled with reasons that Severus loved you.
"Sev!" you gasped as tears of joy filled your eyes, pressing a hand to your chest as you beamed at him. "This is an amazing gift, I'm-"
You sobbed quietly into your hand, suddenly overwhelmed by the gift and Severus's love for you. He was home, he was safe, and it was all you could've ever asked for.
"Here, you open yours now," you sniffled as you hurriedly wiped away your tears. You handed him his present and watched as he curiously opened it, his eyes widening when he saw what was inside.
He pulled out an obsidian bracelet engraved with the words Bravest Man, along with a leather-bound scrapbook filled with photos of you and Severus throughout the years.
Severus's heart swelled with emotion as he stared at those words. You thought that he was brave, the bravest man for that matter.
"I love you," Severus said through tears, pulling you into his arms. He hugged you tightly, happiness coursing through him as you returned the embrace.
"I love you too, Sev," you smiled, kissing away his tears. You pulled back to admire his face, rubbing soothing circles into his cheekbones. "I love you more."
"That's not possible," Severus said, sniffling as he wiped his eyes. "I love you more."
You laughed, leaving kisses all over his cheek and jawline. "Prove it to me, then," you murmured, pressing yourself into his chest and sighing contently against his neck when he squeezed your waist.
"Oh, I'll prove it to you alright," Severus smirked, lifting you up. He pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead and securely held you as he carries you to the bedroom.
"What about the presents?" you asked as you glanced back longingly at the presents that had yet to be opened.
"They'll be there when I'm done with you, don't worry," Severus assured you, delivering a playful smack to your ass. You laughed into his chest, kissing him gratefully. Needless to say, it was a very unforgettable Christmas.
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mmmthornton · 2 years
Text
"I got you, dude"
***
The Freedom Pals finished their route by taking out some sixth graders that were hassling kids outside the movie theater. One of them landed a kick on Tupperware's torso that cracked the container under his left arm.
He was starting to walk away when Toolshed tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey! I got something for that. May I?"
Almost before Tolkien knew what was happening, Stan slapped a neat stripe of high-quality duct tape up one side over the crack. "Oh man, thanks Toolshed!"
"Yeah man, I got you! Here, lemme get the other side so it looks like a style choice."
***
Some days later, most of the guys were waiting in Tolkien's living room for their various rides. Stan was standing around talking with his friends and was about to walk outside where it was snowing...in just his Toolshed t-shirt. Toolshed felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Hey man, you need something going out there, its cold out. Take this!" and Tolkien pushed a jacket into his hands.
"Aw, I don't need it, I'm across the street anyway Its no bi-"
"Just put it on man, you can't fight crime if you get sick."
Toolshed relented, and zipped the jacket over his shirt. "Thanks man. ... Hey, it kinda goes with the look."
"If you like it it's yours. I uh, got two jackets for Christmas." Human Kite noticed out of the corner of his eye a shopping bag stashed near the door that looked like the same brand as the jacket.
"Cool, thanks dude!"
Yeah, I got you."
***
While working on an upgrade to the Tupperjet, Tupperware nearly broke a window trying to remove a stripped screw. "Damn....Hey, 'Shed, do you have a pinhammer I could use to get these out?"
"Yeah, I got you, one sec."
"Thanks dude!"
***
"Tupperware, I need some protection for the wrist drill attachments; I can block when they're not retracted but otherwise the track gets janky. Got anything I could use?"
"Sure, I got you! My mom made spaghetti last week and we've got plastic thrown out in the recycling bin."
"Sweet, thanks 'Tups!"
***
Professor Chaos' minion set off a self-destruct that just caught Tupperware in its wake. He's shoved backwards by the blast and waves his arms vainly, falling backwards-
-and one hand finds Toolsheds glove, solidifying into an iron grip. The handyman hero hooked his measuring tape to a tree and caught them both in time before they went over the edge.
"I got you, dude!"
Mosquito came running up, grabbing Tupperware's other arm and pulling them both up to stable ground. He complained later to Super Craig how Tolkien didn't even LOOK at Clyde when thanking him for the rescue. His attention was occupied on someone else.
***
The meth-addicted hobos that had ambushed the team on a mission to the old mall parking lot weren't the brightest enemies they'd faught, but their blind druggie rage packed a powerful punch and all of them were feeling the effects. Toolshed knocked away two in one blow with his drill ground attack, saving Mysterion from yet another messy death. In the process however, he didn't see the one coming up behind him from under a tarp...
"I got you, Toolshed!"
...Before Toolshed knew what was happening, he was standing near the other side of the mostly-cleared battlefield as an electric *hum* and soft blue light faded around him. He saw where he'd been standing, Tupperware was surrounded by the same glow as his advanced shields met the druggie attack and deflected it to a harmless rattle. Moments later, The Coon pounced claws-first and finished the fight. Toolshed didn't react when his chubby friend in a fursuit commented that he needed to do better at watching his ass...and then murmured that he was more concerned with someone else's. Ass, that is.
***
"...So anyway, with the 3D Printer my dad just bought, we have basically limitless options for supplies and gear! Toolshed and I found a site that translates manufacturer specs into three dimensional plans for easy customizing and building. We printed a logo that attaches to Professor Timmy's wheelchair wheels that doubles as a shock absorber. How cool is THAT?"
Around the table of the Freedom Pals, everyone clapped politely except for Toolshed. Toolshed grinned widely and clapped the loudest, proud of their shared achievement.
***
After the meeting, Kite, Mysterion, and Coon approached Professor Timmy's chair.
Kyle cleared his throat.
"Heyyy, Professor...Would it be possible for you to help us with something?"
If it is within my immense telepathic and psychokinetic powers, and doesn't get me in trouble with my mom, of course heroes. What do you need that my powerful brain can help you obtain?
The Coon leaned into Mysterion's ear. "I know Timmy's head was big to begin with but geez..."
"Uh, yes, thank you Professor!" Kite continued. "See, we are friends with, um, Toolshed and lately he's seemed...distracted. Could you maybe use your powers and tell us what exactly his - er, deal is?"
There's silence, and Timmy's gaze turns to the other side of the room. Tolkien is out of his Tupperware suit and is leaning over a drawing Stan is showing him. "So, I got to thinking after seeing the 3D printer at work, maybe I can incorporate some kind of glue gun attachment? I have the heating elements already installed like so, and maybe-" The conversation continued in depth as the two boys excitedly went over plans and ideas that their shared knowledge and ability could actually make possible.
Timmy turned back to Kyle, not even bothering with the telepathy. Instead, he rolled his eyes at the three friends. "Timmy?" He gestured with his hand at Tolkien laughing at a joke Stan made, and the way he visibly seemed to glow brighter when Tolkien's hand clapped his shoulder. ".....timmy."
Kyle sighed and crossed his arms. "Yeah...I guess we didn't really need your powers either."
Cartman put a hand to his face. "God, that rich asshole better not Yoko our crew here."
Mysterion shrugged, and smiled from deep within the cowl of his hood. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for them baby blues?"
The other boys all nodded sagely. "Timmy timmy. Tim-may."
"That was beautiful Professor."
"Yeah, well-said," Coon leaned forward to check on The Human Kite's expression. "Well? Should we interfere?"
Human Kite for a moment didn't seem to hear his companion. A few seconds passed however, and he smiled. "Nah, I think he's got this."
***
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