Tumgik
#ive been out and quite busy so i havent get around to reply
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Do the 66 route with, do a baking marathon with, walk in the forest all day with:
Pecco Bagnaia, Celestino Vietti and Marco Bezzecchi.
Same question with Zhou Guanyu, Mick Schumacher and Yuki Tsunoda
Oh that's interesting!
I will choose to do the 66 route with pecco because I have never played it and I think he will patiently teach me instead of laughing at my face. I will do a baking marathon with cele because I don't know how to bake and will instead throw the flour on his face and distract him instead. Plus I think he will look very cute with flour all over his face and hair hhh And I will go for a walk in the forest all day with bez because bez seems like a fun company for a walk and maybe he will bring Rubik along too 😌
I will choose to play the 66 route with Mick because I think it will be fun. Baking marathon with yuki because if mine is uneatable then at least I have his to steal later haha And I think going on a walk in the forest all day with Zhou will be healing and nice! And I'm curious on what style of outfit will he wear hihi
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tiens-letters · 4 years
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upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past
zhongli (angst)
@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe
Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.
Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.
Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.
It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.
He felt exhausted. Desultory even.
Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.
Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.
The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.
You.
He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.
Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.
"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.
"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.
"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his
"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him
"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.
After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.
"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him
"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."
"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him
"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"
"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.
"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.
"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.
"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"
"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him
"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."
However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.
"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze
"Thats better."
He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.
Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.
Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.
He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.
Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening
" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.
"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of
" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."
"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white
You slapped him.
With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.
"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them
"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips
"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."
To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.
But of course, all things are evanescent.
The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.
"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.
He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.
Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."
To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.
Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.
He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.
The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.
The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.
It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.
"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant
"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."
Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe
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pestopascal · 4 years
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While I will absolutely agree that CB2077 isn’t the ONLY game doing all this bullshit, or that other AAA studios don’t deserve the flack CDPR is getting, I have to say that this is absolutely the perfect storm and I think people are FINALLY seeing the problems in modern AAA gaming. CB2077 might be fun to play, may have a good story, but it’s almost impossible to see because of the glaring issues. Which, honestly, is a good thing. I hope games change after this.
under here
AAA studios have been like this and this sort of release has been completely normalised on all accounts by both the businesses themselves and fans because of the inherent reliance on modders (bethesda at the forefront of this), as well as the pushback every time companies actually go ‘uh we need a lil more time’ (although... they just shouldnt announce potential release dates, im even of the camp they shouldnt even start releasing the game until like 6 months out from their official date because they fuck it up every time. borderlands 3 being the only game i know of being in “secret” development and then announcing itself in march for a september release. game itself aside, thats how companies should do it). easily i can remember a lot of 2011 release games which have had the exact same issues as cp77′s release, and then every other game in between since. very rarely do you actually have a game that isn’t a fucked up mess of a pile of pixels. and it is always the customisable character ones that are honestly, genuinely, ugly looking at release. but you can definitely say its been happening looooooong before 2011, with unrealistic expectations, word limits, 11 month time frames, offloading sequels to smaller companies so they can suffer if it fails, etc etc. the entire system has been like this for so long... they dont know any real different nowadays.
i mean look. tlou2 released under crunch conditions this year, and was rewarded. it was ALL over the social media feeds, it was quite the controversy because, surprise surprise, the company promised they wouldnt do it uwu and then. bam ! crunch conditions. literally around that time too, bioware employees came out with a statement saying ‘man we wish dai FAILED so that back in 2014 we couldve proven crunch was a wrong practice’. they say this as well after having to produce da2 in 14 months, which just suffered from fans and journalism for reusing environments, because it was produced in 14 months, and honestly? no one pointed that out back then, bioware themselves pointed it out again this year, 6 years after release, that that game was produced in 14 months. rdr2′s release was hounded by stories of crunch, and they all disappeared into the night because... it was heralded as the best game of all time. that was 2018, 2 years ago.
i think too is that some people get kind of ... morally and ethically concerned. which is understandable. can you consume something when you know it was made under conditions like crunch? and i think one of the most confronting things about it is that 9/10, not only has your favourite company engaged in crunch conditions, they almost actively choose to continue with them. and then that’s a whole other bag of issues blown up over there when it comes to what is able to be consumed what isn’t etc etc
i think also like a mix of marketing, promises and then the expectations of what the game will be like have really had cdpr earn the ire of fans which is just like... you don’t believe what these companies are saying. you never should, esp when it’s their ceo’s saying it who don’t work on the actual floor. bioware itself is the main culprit of doing this to the point they finally came around with all the da4 concept art and teasing to be like ‘ummm but actually dont get invested?’. remember all that qunari lady fanart that bioware management was like ... please dont get attached? yeah. yeah. like at what point as well is there going to be heavy level of apprehension to approach this? and i can’t really talk either, i cracked open the door for mass effect again. i know exactly what kind of shit bioware will pull, i know they are teasing it already on social media, but mass effect is my ride or die series. that’s why people keep opening the door on letting these companies get away with it. and you can’t fault fans entirely either because this is down to a science of how to get money. i mean, fuck, mass effect andromeda’s entire advertising campaign HINGED on the n7 logo. for the nostalgia value. and i see text posts in the same vein of both ‘guys, disney isnt gonna fuck you if you consume every remake for nostalgia value’ and ‘its understandable why people do it’.
so then you have to go ‘well are fans as just to blame’ and then that’s a whole other argument.
i think also like. i personally havent run into aaaannnyyyyyyy of the issues that you see posted online. which is ironic bc 1) i play on ps4 and 2) its an old dusty ps4. in fact a lot of ppl i have spoken to who have had issues have played on pc. does this mean the glitches dont exist? ofc not, the vids and screenshots are right there. but like... ive had a basically unhindered experience so far, and i get where ppl are coming from (i do, i promise) where theyve basically found the game unplayable. is there also a standard of what ppl consider unplayable because ive played most AAA games at launch when they basically rushed to slap the box label on the game and called it a day until they work on patches. when ppl consider unplayable is also just... different per person. some people have a slight blur on the screen when turning too fast even in an MMO and decide the game is horrible and unplayable. some people can have broken quests and npcs not loading and falling through maps and still be fine. there’s no agreed statement of what makes a game unplayable either, which is why you read threads on twitter and someone goes ‘yeah this npc t-posed so i quit in the first hour’ with a dozen replies. everyone has different levels of it.
it’s a mixed bag of issues. im not excusing cdpr, but the ppl who worked on the game are honestly likely not the ones who pushed for a release. you’ve gotta look at sony and microsoft and ceo’s with bonuses coming up and the investors and shareholders and people who sit behind computers and read numbers detailing interest and demand and supply and how every single time they had to delay this game, the loudest (but smallest) bunch of assholes on like reddit and in the twitter threads complained that it was delayed AGAIN even though back in what 2015? they said it’ll come out when it’s ready. and yeah there are times when game delays result in a mismatched half assed sort of story (kh3... p5... ffxv... dai...) and then there are times when, if they need to delay the game... they probably need to delay the game. sometimes delays are bad sometimes theyre good sometimes you are sitting there like whew if you only didn’t try to be like THIS TIME this is the release date.
the ONLY WAY this will stop happening is, quite frankly, unionising. and everyone is allergic to that whole concept so like... this is “the perfect storm” as you put it. but it’s also not. people have been so disappointed over the last 2 years alone for gaming companies, the final product, the attitudes from higher ups, that i think cdpr is receiving a good few years worth of anger. i think theyre also on the receiving end of misdirection from american fans who still don’t fucking get the company isn’t american, because that’s another bag of issues as well. like we’re holding at least 8 bags of groceries out of the back of the car now, and we don’t want to take another trip, because there are so many little bits of this entire situation to look at. there’s so much back and forth.
i think the worst, but most realistic thing is: games won’t change. how they will social media wise will. maybe. assuming bioware gets their heads out their asses but... they’re going to be a lot more careful. i mean, hell, sony offered refunds. that was just a publicity stint. they dont give a fuck if the game was bad. as i said before, if they did, they would make all companies fix trophy problems, starting from like 2010 or whenever the trophy system first came out. they just don’t wanna fall in alongside cdpr being thrown on its sword. but the companies are gonna learn from this, get smarter, still do the same shit to their employees, still pay off journalists, still do media blackouts, etc etc. and we’re gonna be here in another year’s time, with another game, having these same roundabout arguments, and cp77′s issues are gonna fade into just a wikipedia article.
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dracosearlgreytea · 4 years
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indelicate marks (11)
indelicate marks: chapter eleven - the accusation 
A/N: aaa okay so heres the next chapter! ive been lowkey stressed about posting this chapter as it took a lot to write, but i hope you enjoy it.. thank you so so so much for the increased support from everyone, if i havent replied to a comment dw i do read them! they literally transform my day no matter how i feel, so yeah just thank you. lotsa love - ivy 
warnings: language, strong descriptions of ptsd/reliving bad memories, graphic descriptions of deep cuts and bleeding
lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse @thatoneasrastan @biinspiration @honeymelon22
indelicate marks index 
January and February, after the first meeting of the year, passed by quiet. Draco's state was getting worse. Every time you'd see him, even when you'd met twice a week, something about him was growing... darker. Sometimes it wasn't just the bags under his eyes, or the sharpness of his cheekbones. Sometimes it was the way his tone never lifted out of the monotonous state he tended to abandon around you. Sometimes it was the way he could hardly hold a conversation, or the anxiety would overwhelm him and you'd have to sit with him tucked into your chest, praying that his breathing would settle soon. But, somehow, within the misery that hung over the two of you, you also managed to find the friend you had waited so long for. Draco was funny. Dry, and witty, and frustratingly funny. The things that he'd say as a passing comment could make you double over in laughter. You'd always find his lips shooting up into that wicked grin you'd grown to adore. That smile was something you'd find few and far between, and its rarity only settled it closer to your heart. He was smart, too - a lot less stupid that he made himself out to be. Draco could easily give Granger a run for her money, if he wanted to. He had a secret passion for Muggle literature. Something, which you found out totally by mistake  - and continued to bring up at any given opportunity just to annoy him. To your utter shock, Draco also played piano. He'd described an organ, back in Malfoy Manor. His parents would usually enchant to play by itself - but, his mother had still taken it upon herself to teach him how to play it when he was a child. The insights he offered you into his life were quite frankly fascinating. It was still odd. The dynamic between you was never quite settled; impermanent. There were little things you found yourself holding onto. Like his smile, or the way he frowned when he listened to you talk, as though he was really focusing on your words.   Since your realisation at the beginning of the year, your affections for Draco had only grown. Most of the time, you'd manage to ignore it, only swallowing back the flutters in your chest. Because there was no way you could fancy Draco Malfoy. There was no way he would ever reciprocate, and there was no way it could ever work between you even if he did. And, it was nice. Being friends with someone. You could cope with the darkness he carried. You could cope with pushing away any indication of your developing attachment to him. Having someone to talk to, to even just be around - complicated or not - was a privilege you had never had. But, as much as you attempted to ignore it, the tension at Hogwarts was also getting a lot worse. Trying not to think about what would happen when you had to return home at the end of the year was difficult. Even the idea of having that mark on your arm was sickening. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that to take it, you would have to expose the mark that already sat on your forearm. Most likely, to the Dark Lord himself. The glares got worse. The comments got more threatening. Walking the corridors was not safe for you. Not when your parents had killed so many families of the students around you. It hadn't exactly been before, but now, with that suffocating atmosphere, it had only gotten worse. Keeping a firm grip on your wand at all times was second nature, at this point. You had been on your way to a meeting with Draco when your fears became too real. The feeling of someone following you had been tugging at your conscious for most of the day. But then, most people were watching you, anyway, eyes lingering on you in every hall or classroom you passed through. So, you'd only shrugged it off as your paranoia overreacting. It was still light. With winter beginning to pass, the nights were growing shorter. Weekly trips to the classroom were no longer spent in the dark, much to your appreciation. Just as you reached the last staircase leading to the third floor, it jumped into action. It swung away from your destination, and you ground your teeth, hanging onto the railings. Again, you only passed your mistake off as a busy mind - until you glanced behind you. The previous staircase had also moved. A distinct dread began to poison your gut. With the piece of staircase behind you gone, your only choice was to progress onto wherever this one would take you. You swallowed, staring up as the stairs docked. It lead onto a one-way corridor, a piece of the castle that was rarely used, and a quiver ran over your hand as you wrapped your fingers around your wand. Slipping it from your back pocket, you finally shifted. Someone wanted you in that corridor. Someone wanted you cornered. The second you stepped off of the stairs, it jolted away from you, only confirming your assumption. Stranded in the corridor, the lack of windows cast an eerie shadow down its length. There was only two classrooms coming off the sides, and one at the end - most likely locked, with a spell more powerful than 'alohamora' would fix. Edging forwards, you flung your eyes around you. Your heart was thudding dangerously in your chest - it was currently dinner. No one would be around to help if something happened, assuming anyone would help you. Draco was unlikely to come searching for you if you turned up late, waiting on the opposite side of the moving staircases. You only hoped you could reach the stairs before something bad could happen to you. Pausing, your eyes met the end doorway. It was ajar. You pressed yourself against the wall as you shifted closer - the opening only offered to show you a slice of darkness within. Someone could be, however, waiting for you inside. Hoping your curiosity would get the better of you. Preparing to jump you. Setting your wand upright and poised, you lifted your hand, before shoving the door open. Only, before you could get a glimpse inside, it had slammed shut in your face. You stumbled back a couple steps, true panic setting in. "Was it you?" A voice came from behind you. You'd walked straight into a trap. Taking in a shuddering breath, you spun to face the voice. A flicker of your brow, and you stared at the figure blocking the end of the corridor. "Potter?" He had emerged from one of the classrooms either side of you, wand clenched in his fist and eyes hard. Stupid, you're so stupid, you should have checked. "Was it you, Y/N?" Harry repeated, watching you with an unpredictable atmosphere to him. "Did you curse the necklace?" It took a second for any words to form on your lips. Your mind was going to into overdrive. Harry would not hurt you intentionally, you knew that much - he wasn't that type of person. But what he could do unintentionally... "I don't know what you're talking about." You said. Attempting to appeal to whatever friendship you'd had last year, you kept your voice as clear and honest as you could. Harry, however, did not shift. "It was you, or Malfoy." His voice lilted with questioning, and your jaw tightened. You had to remind yourself to keep breathing, act natural, even at the mention of Draco. Shit, what the fuck has Draco been doing? I know it's bad - it's the Dark Lord - but Merlin, if Harry is involved... "I said," You forced an eyebrow up at Harry in emphasis. "I don't know what you're talking about." Voice gruff, relief flooded through you. You'd managed to keep your composition. There was a million scenarios involving Draco running through your mind, and you bit back a shudder. "Then prove you're not one of them." Shit. Harry had gestured to your arm with his wand. You grew rigid in terror, a shaking whisper falling from your lips before you could swallow it back. "What?" "Show me your arm, and prove to me you're not a Deatheater." Harry said, voice a lot more forceful than before. No, no. No, this can't be happening - he wouldn't - he can't - "I don't have to prove anything to you, Potter." You spat - but there was no denying the quiver in your words. Sickness curling in the pit of your stomach, you clutched your wand, scrutinising Harry's every little movement. He shifted. It was so, so slight. Maybe he was moving towards you, maybe he was only adjusting his stance. It didn't matter, because before you could think, you raised your wand and shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Stupify-" "Expelliarmus!" You could only watch in utter horror as your wand flew through the air and clattered to the ground. All the way at the other end of the corridor. Behind Harry. No, no, no- You couldn't move. Frozen. It was as though you were in that cupboard again. Crushed against the wall, watching as two boys enchanted a blade and laughed at the way you choked for breath. "It's okay, Deatheater. You're going to get your mark soon." Harry was moving towards you now. You stumbled, falling back against the door, hands coming to press down on the handle. Locked. No escape. Breathing frantic, you could only stare at Harry with wide, angry eyes. You didn't speak as he grabbed your left arm, pulling it out in front of you. No, you didn't even struggle. You were still in that fucking broom cupboard. Harry's fingers burnt horribly against your skin, pushing up your sleeve. His eyes lingered on you as he did so, long enough to make your skin crawl. Then, he looked down. It burnt. Burnt, as though Harry had struck a match and put it to your flesh. He came to stare at you again, falling a few strides away from you as you snatched your arm back to your chest. You wanted to shout - no, scream at him, but you could do nothing but hold in the gasps of pain. Harry hadn't seen the blood. He hadn't seen the way the cuts had began to tear open, slowly. Excruciatingly. "Get the fuck away from me." It was hardly a whisper - more some inhuman, animalistic snarl. It was all you could manage. The flames were growing hotter and hotter and you'd forgotten how to breath. My wand. I need my wand. "Y/N - I'm so sorry - I-" "Go!" Something in Harry managed to click, seeing your contorted expression. With one last, horrified look, he turned and rushed away, the stairs swinging back to greet him as he did. The second he was out of sight, you let out a shuddering breath, daring a glance down to the state of your arm. Blood was already spilling down your fingers. It seeped into the fabric of your shirt, like the sea lapping at the shore - but bloodier, and a lot more sickening. "How does it feel to bleed, Deatheater? I bet you're fucking enjoying it, you sicko, just like your parents did." An involuntary whimper escaped you, unable to contain it with your mind so hazy from panic and pain. Agony was lacing its way up your arm and through your entire body, and you had to remind yourself - your wand. I need my wand. Staggering forward, you focused your gaze on your wand at the end of the corridor. Blood was spilling steadily onto floor, staining your shirt, but you refused to acknowledge it. Groans escaped your throat, scalding pain cutting deeper and deeper into your skin. Feeling the liquid thick on your hands, you, almost instinctively, gave it another look. Your entire sleeve was coated in red. An overwhelming nausea hit your gut. Falling against the wall, you desperately attempted to get your breath, but it only came in short pants. You'd barely made it halfway down the corridor. Harry had taken too long to leave, given the cuts too much time to reopen before the worst kicked in. Last time, with Draco, the reaction had been quick and easy. This time, you were alone, and wandless. Head spinning, you attempted to choke down a deep breath, and pushed forward. Everything was starting to blur a little, your head a spinning mess of thoughts. You couldn't focus. Tired. You felt so tired. You were close. You were so close to grabbing your wand, hands slick with blood as you stretched out your arm, shaking. Another step - a stumble. Your entire body crashed to floor. There was a terrible, harsh blow to the side of your head. Your ears filled with a high buzzing, sight wavering as you stared from your wand only inches away from you, to your left arm. Ten letters, red and clear. Tears rolled down your cheeks, but you didn't recognise them. It hurt, it hurt so bad, you couldn't think, couldn't breath. It was all a blur, really. A blur of torments and whispers. A blur of blade against skin. "Deatheater." "Y/N? Y/N-"
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honeymoonjin · 5 years
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Chapter Eleven
Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?
A/N: This chapter is a little different, it’s in Yoongi’s point of view. I was going to make it Chapter 10.5 since it kind of occurs alongside Chapter 10 chronologically, but I didn’t want anyone thinking it wasn’t necessary to the plot, because it definitely is. Let me know what you think!
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"Can't you just let me go with you, hyung? I'll be good!"
This kid. Yoongi shakes his head firmly, hurriedly grinding some herbs together for a last-minute clarity charm. "You mess up enough here as it is. I can't leave something like this up to you. Besides, Y/n specifically asked for me to go, didn't she?"
The shaman tries to ignore the way Taehyung fixes his puppy dog eyes on his elder. "But what will I do when you're gone? I'll be all bored and alone."
Tipping the ground herbs into a small vial, Yoongi's voice is flat as he makes sure the vaguely green dust makes its way into the vessel. "Then go back to the palace and keep Y/n company. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Alright, I need to leave. Be sure to leave the portal door open, but lock the front door with the hex charm; do you remember it?"
Taehyung seems affronted at the suggestion. "Of course I can do a hex charm, Yoongi. I'm not incompetent, you know..."
Yoongi straightens up and stares at the boy who's pouting in the kitchen. Feeling a sliver of guilt, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Listen," Yoongi says, voice gruff but apologetic, "I'm just making sure. I'm trying to keep you safe."
"Forget about it," Taehyung mutters under his breath, studiously ignoring his elder as he grabs an apple for the road and shrugs on a coat. "I'm going, like you wanted."
Yoongi winces when the heavy wooden door slams behind his assistant, and he stands in silence, listening to the the light scrape of Taehyung’s fingernail against the door, paired with the muttering of an ancient Chinese spell. Most of the magic Yoongi used nowadays were more modern Korean methods, but for the more basic enchantments, it was common to use the original spells.
Finally, all was quiet again. Yoongi cleared his throat to try and break the melancholic gloom he had slipped into, and double-checked the minimal belongings on his person before he left. He was not going to be in the modern world long, would not even have to leave the confines of the house itself, but Yoongi never went anywhere without a small leather pouch of basic ingredients tucked into his belt, the glass vial of a clarity charm dangling on a cord around his neck, and a small blade in his boot. All things proceeding as planned, he wouldn’t need them.
The first thing Min Yoongi noticed about the future was how clean and bright everything was. Gone were his heavy curtains, dark walls and sooty hearth. He emerged out into a hallway (something only palaces were large enough to have in his time, but he was familiar with them nonetheless) with a strange spongy fabric floor and impossibly straight, flat walls that appeared painted uniformly. He couldn’t imagine the finesse it would take a painter to manage to evenly coat this expansive surface without leaving streaks. Perhaps magic was more commonplace in this day.
Yoongi had been here once before, to lure Y/n back to his time, but he had transformed into a cat, then, and it was the middle of the night, rather than the break of day. Unsure which direction to go, he followed the hallway left, until he made it to the very end. “She said the communication device was in her sleeping quarters. Here, she wrote down some instructions for its use.” Yoongi felt for the note again in his pocket, comforted by the crisp edge of the thick paper. He had read that note to the point of rote-memory, but was glad it was there anyway. All Yoongi had to do was locate a bedroom, and then the ‘phone’ would be on a wooden stand beside it. He was actually feeling some excitement unfurl within him to find this device; from Y/n’s description, it sounded like a very complexly enchanted item.
As Yoongi made his way from room to room methodically, ignoring everything that wasn’t a bed (even though he was desperately curious to try out the bath – something he recognised from his time, but seemed far more refined) he thought over his previous encounter with Taehyung.
Was there really such a need for Taehyung to take everything to heart all the time? That boy was too sensitive for his own good. It would get him hurt one day.
When Taehyung and Yoongi met, almost three years ago, the shaman wasn’t looking for anyone. In fact, he had sworn off ever taking an assistant again after… what had happened with the last one, but Taehyung was insistent. His parents didn’t want him working on their farm anymore, he had said, and the King’s Guard wouldn’t take him in. He would have nowhere else to go. Perhaps Yoongi should’ve seen that as a sign that the boy wasn’t a particularly capable worker, but instead he had opened his arms and welcomed him in. He never had been able to say no to a pretty face. Yoongi thought maybe that was his biggest flaw yet.
Behind the fourth or fifth door, past the small door in the wall from whence he came, Yoongi found a bed, wider and more lushly decorated than the modest shelf-and-blanket combination he had. Letting out a gasp of relief at the chance to distract himself from the memories of his assistants, he rushed forward into the room, scanning it for a wooden stand.
Directly to the right of the bed is a short, squarish cabinet. On top is a small metal box with glowing red numbers, a very glossy and crisp book, and a small black device. Yoongi consults with the slip of paper, and tentatively touches the tip of his finger to a protruding button. Gasping with wonder as the surface lights up, Yoongi realizes there are words on the screen, all gathered in small boxes. He takes the time to read some of them, having to re-press that button as the screen keeps going dark after a few moments.
   Jimin, 8:21pm: r you still busy at the house? can u please just text me back baby, if ur busy thats okay, im just a little worried out u, thats all… it’s getting late…
   Jimin, 10:49am: okay, im heading off to work, flick me a text when u get this xxx
   Jimin, yesterday 5:11pm:  we dont have to if you don’t want to
   Jimin, yesterday 4:28pm: date night tonight? xxx i feel like i havent seen you in ages baby xxx
There are more, but they disappear out the bottom. Yoongi frowns. He thinks he remembers this Jimin; if memory serves, it was the sleeping male curling up to Y/n when he briefly visited her dreamscape. Yoongi had been so caught up in making sure she fulfilled her end of the deal that he had almost forgotten she had a life outside of their time. Those messages were a sobering reminder of how much Yoongi was asking from her. How much she was giving up. He didn’t like that feeling.
Clearing his throat noisily in the early evening silence, he picks up the device delicately and places it on the bed, flattening out the note beside it. Y/n’s instructions make sense as he follows along, although it takes him a while to work out what she means by ‘text bubble icon’.
Once he reaches that screen, and clicks on the name ‘Jimin’, those same messages appear, but in a different format. “I’ve already seen these,” he tells the device. The device does not respond. “I seek to create one of my own.” He sighs. The magic on this glass apparently cannot react to voice, only touch. He reaches out and clicks on the small white box that says ‘iMessage’ in grey. “Yes, I do want to message,” he mumbles distractedly. A large array of small letters appears below. Y/n wrote down to tap each square to write the letter. It seems an awfully impersonal way of writing, and it takes Yoongi quite a long time to tap out what Y/n has asked him to write, as well as pressing a small blue arrow to the right, which pushes the message upwards, resting directly below those from the Jimin.
   omg im so sorry i missed these jiminie ㅠ ㅠ i hope ur not too worried.
   im ok, just not been feeling great so ive been sleeping a lot! im not sure yet if its contagious so pls dont come out, i know uve got that show coming up and i dont want u to get sick ok!
   love you lots baby!
Yoongi sighs once he finishes, resting back on the bed, but soon three bouncing dots appear in a box. He watches them dance, fascinated, wondering what this could mean, until they change into words. Y/n did tell him that Jimin would be likely to reply and had simply written on the bottom of the note, ‘no apostrophes, or capital letters, call him baby or jiminie, and make sure he doesn’t come out to the house!’
   Jimin: omg thank god ur safe i was worried!!! i can bring u round some fresh soup and we can have a night in xxx ive already had my flu jab so i wont get sick i promise lol xx
Yoongi swears, trying to speed up his reply, double-checking Y/n’s rules as he goes.
   thank you, baby, thats very kind of you. but please dont come out, im just going to go to sleep and hope that this sickness passes in time. i will notify you once
But before he can finish crudely dictating a message, a series of three hard raps echoes through the house. Yoongi stands up ramrod stiff. Surely the Jimin boy hadn’t arrived so soon? Although, Yoongi supposes transport must be more efficient in this time. He bites his lip nervously. Surely, it would be best to go ask him to leave. It was Y/n’s intention that Jimin did not come to the house, since she herself was absent, and Yoongi could not have the boy roaming around and discovering the portal’s entrance.
“Y/n?” a deep voice calls out, muffled through the walls. Yoongi swears under his breath and pockets the small device and the note, getting off the bed to go find the front door. “Are you there?” Hurrying faster, the shaman eventually locates a door with a clouded glass panel revealing a tall shadow. He fumbles with the doorknob, having to twist a key (thank God that technology hasn’t changed) to unlock it, and throws it open with a nervous huff. The man blinks once, furrowing his eyebrows. “Uh…hi?”
“Yes, hello,” Yoongi blurts out hastily, eyes roaming over the tall man. Although he saw Jimin in very dim lighting, it’s easy to tell that this is not the same man. “Who are you?”
The man is wearing rough-looking blue pants with a belt, and a tunic that’s cut at his hips instead of his legs. He holds a hand out to Yoongi. Yoongi stares at it until the man coughs and lowers it. “My name’s Namjoon. I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m just here to speak to Y/n.”
“What-” Yoongi’s words catch in his throat when he lifts his gaze from the man’s odd attire to his face. It can’t be. A bolt of deeply-repressed hurt cuts through him. He recognizes those dimples, that smile, even the name is the same as his. It was a face he never thought he’d see again. But, no. It isn’t him. The more Yoongi looks at him closely, the man going a little red in the cheeks under the sudden scrutiny, Yoongi can see the finer details aren’t right. His Namjoon had a narrow nose, more delicate face. His Namjoon wasn’t as tall and was skinnier too. This man in front of him bore shocking resemblance, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his Namjoon. Sensing he had been silent too long, Yoongi blinks away the tears that threaten to well. “What for?”
“Oh, uh, it’s kind of private business, dude. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Y/n’s sick,” Yoongi says instead, “so I’m afraid you can’t come in. I’m more than happy to pass on a message.”
The man who looks so much like his former assistant furrows his brows. “I’m sorry, who are you? I’d like to speak with her. I’ve been doing some more research for her, you see, really cool stuff on-”
“I’m her doctor,” Yoongi says instead, “I’m concerned she may be contagious, so I’ve advised her not to have guests. If you have the research with you, perhaps I can bring it inside. I’m sure she’d appreciate you coming.”
The guy laughs awkwardly, then digs into a bag at his side for a stack of pieces of paper bound in some floppy, slippery pink material. “I didn’t have time to pick up a ringbinder, so the photocopies are loose, but I managed to dig up quite a bit of the history on the Jeon reign, as well as all the following generations. It’s interesting! Hopefully she’ll get some use out of it.” The man hands the research over, craning his neck to try and glance down the hallway. “Can you tell her hi for me? And that I’m sorry for stopping by without texting ahead.”
Yoongi nods, half in a daze. He doesn’t know this strange feeling in his chest; does he want this Namjoon-not-Namjoon man to leave and never think about him again, or does he wish he would stay so that Yoongi can see just how much similarity there was? The thought comes too late, as the man turns and skips down the gravel path, getting into his car and pulling away without a second look back.
The shaman shuts the door, returning the key to its previous position, and sinks down on the floor. First Taehyung acting up, reminding him of his last assistant, and now this. The fates were being cruel today.
Forgetting about the small device still in his herbs pouch, Yoongi quickly returns to the hallway and crawls through the doorway and back into his own time, trying to ignore the hot tears that gather under his chin.
--
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bakugous-abs · 6 years
Note
Scenario where Izuku and fem!reader started to date in middle school, but once they got into U.A. together they grew apart, and she forms the theory that he's going to break up with her (when he's really not), and one day he goes to visit her unexpectedly and finds her crying while wearing his All Might hoodie, and he just feels a bunch of guilt, and he promises to do better, and they just have a really fluffy moment? Thank you to whoever writes this, you're all awesome! 💕
~Admin Eun
Izuku was a gentle andkind boy, a wee bit anxious, but perhaps that was what made him so appealing tothe eyes of (Name). Nose always in a journal that he seemed to entranced with,(Name) would watch him afar and then blush quickly after. Although her peersseemed to find joy at his degrading expense, (Name) always felt that if anyone,Izuku was a person who needed to be treated with warmth. So, understandingthat, she would have to be the one to treat him with such manner as it appearedthat no one else wanted to (which the entirety of that made her shocked beyondbelief as the boy was a bundle of nerves and timid smiles). Truthfully (Name)had been enchanted with Izuku ever since he flashed her a shaky smile andscurried away with a red face, but every time she tried to talk to him he wouldseem to get too nervous and shy away from her. But (Name) was determined tobecome acquainted with him—he could use a friend, anyways.
Before she even knewit, (Name) had not only succeeded in befriending him, but had also managed toworm her way into his heart and become his girlfriend. Yes, on occasion (Name)would get a few sideways glances full of mockery or scoffed at, but she didn’tcare. She had her loving, sweet, and tender Izuku, and for the time being thatwas all she needed.
Not only was he theperfect partner, Izuku was also the perfect student. He was naturallyintelligent, but what made him so perfect was his sheer determination. Bornquirkless, but still driven to get into the prestigious school of U.A. whichcoincidentally was the high school (Name) wished to attend as well. Izukupassed the exam with flying colors, and (Name) was too happy for him to evenbother asking how he passed in the first place. She had congratulated him witha hug as he cried into her shoulder.
After that, it seemedlike it was going to be smooth sailing for both Izuku and (Name). They wereboth placed in the same hero course, and although they had both gone through afew dangerous situations, in the end they both always turned out safe.Naturally, though, high school in itself was stressful. Because of such, Izukufound himself taking rainchecks on (Name’s) date propositions, or respondingwith her actions of affections half-heartedly or with a small smile and thenreturning to doing whatever he was preoccupied with. It hurt her, of course,but she understood that he was busy as a hero on the rise, and all. Still,regardless of how understanding she was, it made her disheartened every time hebrushed off her small kisses or her compliments that used to make him smile sobrightly.
(Name) began stressing.Her and Izuku had been together for a little over a year now—was he gettingsick of her? Was he getting bored of being with her for so long? Or perhaps hewas getting annoyed with her constant company? Doubts and insecurities swarmedher mind as she paced around her dorm. For example, just the other week she hadapproached Izuku with a bright smile. The two hadn’t gone on a date in a while,so it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?
“Ah, Izuku, I wasthinking that maybe we could grab a bite to eat after school? And then maybe wecould go see the gardens! I hear that they’re blooming quite nicely thisseason,” she chirped, excitement evident on her face. She presented this ideacasually, but truthfully she had spent a lot of time and research to plan theperfect date with him.
“Oh…Sorry, (Name),not this week. I’m really busy,” he said, smiling sympathetically at her. (Name’s)face fell, her shoulders slumping as her excitement dissolved intodisappointment. As of lately, it seemed like ‘not this week’ was Izuku’smost favorite phrase.
“It’s…It’s okay, Izu,” shereplied. That was a big fat lie, and they could both tell that it was so.Still, Izuku watched as (Name) trudged back to her room without looking back athim.
(Name) sighed, buryingher head into her hands as she sat on her bed. Izuku wasn’t intentionallyhurting her…Right? Never before had she considered this, but the more thethought presented itself the more she started panicking. Perhaps it waschildish of her, but in a burst of emotion she glanced at her closet beforesnagging Izuku’s ‘All Might’ hoodie from one of the hangers and pressing itclosely to her chest. It smelled like sweet laundry soap and his shampoo, andthis in itself made tears gather at the corners of her eyes. Slipping it overher head, she laughed blandly and laid on her bed.
(Name) felt silly and abit immature, but at the same time she felt that it was justified. Her kneeswere up to her chest as she laid in a fetus position, hands covering herblotchy face as she sobbed into them. She didn’t hear the door creak open.
When Izuku walked inthe room, he expected to see (Name)—his happy and cheerful (Name)—sitting ather desk or maybe just relaxing on her phone. What he did not expect wasto walk in and be dreadfully greeted with the sight of his girlfriend curledinto a small ball, body shaking ever so slightly with the dreary rhythm of hersobs.
“(N-Name)!” heexclaimed, shutting the door behind him and walking cautiously to her side. Shelooked up, sitting up quickly and attempting to dry her eyes. Despite the uttermortification she felt from being caught, she gave Izuku a smile.
“Did you needsomething?” she croaked. If she was trying to sound like nothing was wrong, itdidn’t work. The fact that she was still trying to smile for him made Izukufrown.
“What’s going on?”
“Huh? Nothing’s wrong,Izu. I’m just relaxing.”
Izuku took a seatbeside her, hand resting on her thigh lightly. The small bit of contact made(Name) jump ever so slightly, and it was only then that he realized how long ithad been since they had been affectionate with one another…And he also realizedthat it was his fault.
“(Name), please…” Hewatched as she avoided his gaze in shame. No matter how much she tried to denyit, she knew that Izuku knew her too well to let it up. So, embarrassed andfrankly a complete mess, she bit her lip before opening her mouth to speak. “I…Gosh,I don’t know, Izuku…Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it? We just…This is soselfish of me to say because like I know how busy you are, but…” Her voicecracked, (Name) instinctively bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as sheattempted to choke out the rest of her explanation. “I just feel like…You don’twant to be around me anymore…Do you want to…Fuck, I don’t know, are you goingto break up with me, Izuku?” The way she looked at him with glossy and red eyesmade his heart crack from the top to the bottom before it split in two.
“What? No! No—(Name), Iwouldn’t even think of that…!”
“Then why…Why haven’tyou been…” She trailed off, as if she felt guilty that she felt the way shedid. At this point, Izuku began crying as well as he held (Name) by theshoulders. “I’m so sorry, (Name). I didn’t even realize—I-I’ve been soinconsiderate…”
“Please don’t say that,Izuku!” (Name) wailed, face contorting as more sobs shook her body. “You’rebusy, and I have to understand that!”
“No, (Name), I’m yourboyfriend and I’m supposed to be drying your tears, not causing them!” Theywere both sobbing, (Name) leaning her head into Izuku’s shoulders as shewrapped her arms tightly around his form. He did the same, pulling her bodyclose to his own.
“I’m so sorry, (Name).I promise to…to be a better boyfriend. Because you deserve the best.”
(Name) laughed softly. “Ilove you, Izu.”
Izuku smiled, pullingaway before placing a gentle kiss on (Name’s) lips that she had so longed for. “Ilove you too, (Name).” 
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vegetalass · 5 years
Text
Don’t Just Eat the Egg, Eat the Whole Damn Nest
LMFAOOO i wrote most of this WEEKS ago after I saw this post on @rockboci’s blog abt WHAT IF twig was a RO and i was like…. Dam they right
Found it again 2nite and finished it up
Tfw ur sidestep but u also have a crush on sidestep :(
i also really wanted to figure out how to make that scenario of ‘two sidesteps’ work bc.... Damn we all sidestep bros
I also saw another post on Malin’s blog about peoples sidesteps interacting… and i was like…. Yea…. me too…
Ive been SOO busy lately that i havent been keeping up with fallen hero but all the spoilers i do see look LIT
Hopefully i can catch up soon!
Warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers.
FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth and Twig belongs to @rockboci
gn!Sidestep/Twig - 1229 words
It’s uh... funny the way things work out. The way that fate sometimes decides to run its course right off the track and straight into the stratosphere.  
You’ve always heard people joke about things such as alternate universes, or parallel lives, yet it has always led to you wonder why it was you that actually happened to end up in one.
Metaphorically speaking, of course, because you like to pretend that you’re someone completely normal and that nothing bad has ever happened to you in your life. EVER.
Not that you’ve ever truly managed to convince yourself of that, as there are a lot of things that you’ve done and have had done to you that you’d rather not think about, but you try to live your life the way someone normal does. You eat the things you like, you smoke the things you want, and you do your best to believe that everything is easier now that you’re not living a life that someone else created for you.
And what can fate do about that?
Nothing, because you continue to watch Twig do exactly the same.
They don’t look like you, not even close, and still, it seems as though you’ve been following their tracks since before you can even remember. Back before you had seen the sky, when you still used to listen to other kids whisper about who had and who hadn’t managed to see the real world as if it wouldn’t get you all killed if anyone human heard.
You know they all did, and knowing that is even the reason you got to escape.
“You know,” Ortega said once, interrupting your thoughts while wiping coffee cake crumbs off his cheek as he spoke, “I did tell Chen you were nice.”
You try to be kind. You try to be strong. And you like to hope that you know Twig a little better than you have ever let on.
Granted, they know you, too, but... you seem to have some form of mutual understanding when it comes to keeping quiet about the things that only the both of you know.
Your shared abilities, for one. Your different-yet-shared heinous plans, another. Even Dr. Mortum, and a bunch more stuff like that.
Except that… Twig works for themselves, and you, um... work for the good of the people and all things that come with upturning the government on behalf of getting revenge and once and for all being free.
Vice versa, maybe?
Not that you could ever say that out loud, of course, as you’ve always been more of an “in your head” type of person anyway, which you find to be quite ironic in this case, when Twig just so happens to smile whenever you think anything mean.
Twig knows all this about you, though, as well as the in-your-head revenge game that you play, as you find that they actually happen to know a lot. You know they agree when you think about it, and you can always feel the way Twig’s thoughts shift from black to white as if they were saying “cheers” to the single-person party in their mind that was made up of only you.
You don’t catch them smirking. You never do. 
That being said, Twig is… not really a secret. Not to you, at least. And it’s a funny battle that you fight almost every single day, because you aren’t a secret to them, either.
Twig sees Ortega. You, in a way, look, at Ortega. Twig looks at Herald, and you, just as strangely, see Herald.
Or... something like that, at least. You don’t think too hard about what’s really happening anymore, spending more time focusing on both getting revenge and then running away for the rest of your sorry life. Twig raises their glass to that thought, as well.
Because it’s as if fate decided to slice the world in two when you died during the Heartbreak at the exact same time as Twig.
Different room and different window, but still. You would argue that it counts, even if some might say the split came around the same time you were extracted from a water tank into a world already succumbed in tears.
You always knew Twig was actually a crybaby. It was just too bad you didn’t really know them at all, and frankly still don’t.
You just don’t know if that’s a good thing. You don’t know if you want to.
Not that you were ever on the waiting list to become a Ranger the way that Twig was, but you had your moments.
You remember Ortega. His smile, his charm, and his big, warm hands. You remember Chen, who in retrospect didn’t like Twig much either, and how you felt whenever he turned his back towards you but his front towards them. And you definitely remember feeling as favored as a lonely and lost vigilante could ever could, even when Twig gave all the interviews and you simply made your way.
Things weren’t great as a vigilante, but you had your friends, and Twig had theirs. It was just a shame that they were the same people.
You almost wish you could go back. Back to when all the titles (and skintight clothing) still fit, although in some ways, you like to think that sometimes, they still do.
Even if they can and did get you killed.
You can’t blame the Rangers for picking sides, just as you can’t blame Twig for feeling equally as resentful when they failed to find their body, too, and then decided to give up.
Or something.
Whatever.
You have that in common.
Same home, same hospital, same death.
Cheers, Twig!
There’s a silent conversation you have with Twig, one that hangs on the balance beam between trust, empathy, and the fact that you, in a way, almost share blood.
Twig ignored the thought during the last time you saw them. Although, they happen to ignore you a lot, anyway, as you remember in detail how you could only sputter are the blank expression they passed your way during the last time you tried to converse, as if you were never meant to have a place on this split-in-half-earth.
Even if you’re partly why it split.
Oh well.
“I was thinking that, uh..” you start, feeling like one of those ugly gray birds with big red eyes, before you’re interrupted by a voice as cold as steel.  
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.” Their reply is quick, yet miraculously timed and callous, even if you do your best to assume that it was a joke.
Ortega looks at you with raised eyebrows and shrugs, doing nothing to hide the broken-lipped smirk that opens his jaw.
You try again, voice hoarse “I was thinking that maybe next time you go to the diner, I could come too.”
You try to smile, pushing any annoyance you feel towards Twig full force.
They don’t seemed phased, however, and continue to smile slightly at Ortega’s laugh when he assures you that, yes, you’re always welcome to get dinner with them at “any time and always.”
Twig’s thoughts twist again, the way they always do when you think of them, especially now at your insistence that you don’t want to be left behind, and you can feel that fucking smirk again.
You wonder what it’s like to have a sibling.
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lazyfox411 · 6 years
Text
Qrow Angst
This is the first ever fic I’ve written for RWBY! and the first one ive published in a hot minute  thanks to @r3al-illusion and @spiderling-the-meme for being my awesome beta readers! love you guys <3 this is compliant with and set immediately after the volume 5 finale (so...spoilers if you havent seen that?) pretty please yall tell me what you think of this!! this will be my first work in this fandom and i want to know if you guys would like to see more!
His hands were shaking. He needed a drink.
After a minute of inspection, he handed the relic back to Yang. She didn't much look like she wanted to hold it, but neither did Qrow; he'd already made up his mind on carrying Ozpin--err, Oscar--back to the house, and his shaky hands were threatening to drop the lantern if he didn't hand it off. He was a trained huntsman, but he'd taken some heavy hits, and his aura could only protect him so much. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and replacing it was a plethora of aches and pains. The worst, though, was the hollow, empty feeling in his chest. Growing, and festering, threatening to swallow him whole. He slipped his flask from his pocket and took a swig, but it didn't help like it usually did.
Pro huntsmen don't just disappear like that.
They don't, Qrow thought bitterly, unless they get mixed up in the business of a bad luck charm.
It was too late now. They were all gone. Maybe if he had warned them, if he wasn't such a fuck-up, if he would just get his head out of the goddamn gutter then maybe he could have prevented this, maybe they could have taken out Salem long ago, or at least maybe he would have known better than to just let Lionheart keep scheming.
But he hadn't done any of that. And all of those innocent people had paid the price. Maybe to some they didn't seem innocent, and sure, not all were respectable, some were lowlifes that scrounged around bars and taverns, but none of them had deserved to die for a cause they didn't even know existed.
He scooped up Oscar. The poor kid was still passed out on the floor, looking very small and very exhausted. It was hard to believe Beacon's former headmaster was stowed away inside. 
Qrow looked around for the rest of his kids, subconsciously wondering when he'd ever started to consider them "his" kids. The Schnee girl was handling the bombardment of questions from gathering police and reporters, telling them only what they needed to know and remaining composed and cordial.
Just like her sister, Qrow reflected, and very much unlike himself. Hell, he was ready to just yell at all these nosy people to just go home and mind their own damn business. He didn’t have the energy for this.
The dark-haired girl who had just shown up, Qrow recognized her as one of Ruby's teammates he'd been told so much about, though he couldn't for the life of him remember her name with the pounding in his head getting worse and exhaustion sweeping in. She had turned to address the massive group of Faunus she'd brought with her, thanking them for coming and bringing down Adam Taurus, and even though he'd escaped they'd done a number on him and blah blah blah. Qrow lost interest.
Yang had retrieved her arm, now, and was helping Ruby to her feet. The blond kid and what was left of his team were gushing over his newfound semblance, and Qrow...Qrow was tired.
He was silent on the walk home. Ruby and her teammates blabbered the whole way, filling each other in on their adventures. The dark haired girl introduced herself as Blake, and the other Faunus boy she'd brought with her was Sun.
"Pleasure to meet you," Qrow managed in a low, gravelly voice, "Ruby's told me a lot about you."
He tuned everything out after that. Or rather, the fuzzy, ringing sound in his head took over, and he didn't try to stop it.
They'd arranged a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor for Oscar when he'd showed up, but this time Qrow brought the boy to the room he shared with Ruby, and laid him in his own bed where he could rest more comfortably.
Qrow was pretty sure every bone in his body cracked as he straightened up, and a stitch in his side had him lowering himself back down to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled out his scroll, and uncapped his flask, and went over the list of names one last time. All brave, strong warriors. All gone. All because of him.
A part of him knew that not all of this had to be his fault, and Lionheart's betrayal was really to blame, but right now that part was swallowed in grief and loathing.
He tossed his scroll aside and set his head in his hand. "What do I do, Oz?"
The only reply was Oscar's soft breathing.
Qrow hauled himself to his feet, grunting with the effort, and hobbled his way back into the living room. God, he'd never felt this old before.
The rest of the kids were sat in a ring around the relic, curled up on couches and cross-legged on the floor. They all stared at him when he walked in.
"You should all get some rest," Qrow told them, noting the way their eyes drooped and shoulders sagged. One by one, they filed out of the room, mumbling quietly about sleeping arrangements now that there were more of them in the group.
He and Ruby were the last in the room. She smiled up at him tiredly and stretched out her arms towards him.
"Nope," he denied her grabby hands, though they both knew he'd already caved. He groaned as he gave in and scooped her up in his arms. Qrow was exhausted, but there was no way he could say no to his little niece.
He carried her to bed and tucked her in, pulling the covers up to her chin.
"You gonna be alright, kiddo? Is there anything else you need?" He asked softly, or as softly as he could.
Ruby looked up at him with wide silver eyes. "Some water might be nice. Please," she added, and, "I love you, Uncle Qrow."
He gave her a wry smile, "Get some sleep, kiddo." He paused as he left the room. "Love you too."
She was asleep when he got back. He set her glass of water on the bedside table and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. He left a second glass for Oscar, and gathered up the tray he'd prepared for the rest of the kids.
He went to Yang and Weiss' room first. Blake was with them, and they each gratefully accepted a glass of water. Yang gave him a quick side hug. He didn’t miss the haunted look that hadn't left her eyes since the loss of her arm.
"You did good today, Firecracker," he told her, "take it easy."
"You too," she nudged him gently with her elbow, "old man."
Qrow chuckled. That certainly didn't help make him feel any younger.
Jaune accepted the tray and what was left of the glasses with a nod and thank you, and disappeared into his room where the rest of the team was holed up. Qrow all but collapsed on the couch after that, basking in the silence. It was only a few minutes before his hands started shaking again.
How much did Shiro owe you?
Qrow took another drink.
His name is clear.
He sat, and he drank, and he tried not to think.
There was light shining through the windows when he finally pulled himself out of his thoughts. He didn’t dare look at the clock, didn't want to know how many hours he'd spent just sitting and thinking. He'd emptied the flask.
"Uncle Qrow?" The voice was Yang's.
It took him a moment to remember how to move. Slowly, he turned his head. Yang, Weiss and Blake were standing in the threshold, all looking concerned.
What are they looking at, Qrow thought, brain going numb again, there's nothing to see.
"Uncle Qrow, are you alright?"
"Peachy," he muttered.
"Are you hungry?" Yang asked tentatively. "We were going to make some pancakes."
The thought of eating made him want to vomit. "No."
"Maybe you could help us make them," Weiss offered, and bent down to speak to him as if he were a child, "to take your mind off things."
A part of him knew they were just trying to be nice, trying to help, but that was the same part that knew all those deaths weren't all his fault. Something inside Qrow snapped.
"I said no!" he roared, pushing himself off the couch and making his way to the door.
Listen buddy, I'm having a rough week. Can you tell me where she is or not?
"Uncle Qrow?"
Daddy?
"Where are you going?"
Does this man know where mommy is?
"Out," Qrow snapped, I'm terribly sorry to bother you.
He slammed the door with enough force to knock a few shingles loose. Just his luck.
He slapped some lien down on the counter.
"What do you want?" the bartender asked.
"Whatever you've got," Qrow said hoarsely, shifting in his seat. His back was just about killing him.
Pity filled the old barkeep's eyes, mixed with a sad understanding. Qrow pretended not to notice. He downed the first drink, and the second. Stopped counting after that. Kept going until he couldn't feel himself shaking anymore.
The bar wasn't empty, not quite, there was somebody passed out in a corner, and a group of people engaged in a poker game around a worn table.
A woman stood up from the poker table to get her group another round of drinks. She bumped into Qrow at the counter.
"Sorry," she said.
"Hmph," Qrow mumbled.
Five minutes later, she lost the game.
"Guess your luck ran dry tonight," one of her friends said. Qrow started to laugh, quietly at first, ending in a series of loud, hacking coughs. Heads turned. They all looked at him like he was a lunatic. Hell, maybe he was.
He stood up from his seat, clutching onto the edge of the counter.
"Did I--hurp--pay you 'nuff?" he slurred at the bartender.
The old man didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "Do you have a family?"
Qrow scoffed, thinking of Raven. Then he thought about Ruby, and Yang, and the other kids.
"Kinda," he replied, blinking the blurry spots out of his vision.
"Go home," the bartender said, not unkindly.
The cold air hit him like a brick wall when he stepped outside, suffocating, imposing, encasing. The force knocked him to weak knees, and he vomited a stream of bile onto the ground. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything. Maybe he should have taken the girls up on their pancake offer.
God, he'd really yelled at them, hadn't he? What was Ozpin going to say to him? What was Ruby, sweet and innocent Ruby, going to think of her beloved uncle now? All those kids looked to him like he was the adult, the grownup, but they were more grown than he'd ever be. They'd all lost people, people they were close to, and they were still fighting. And where was Qrow? On the ground, drunk and alone, in the middle of the night. When had it even gotten dark?
"I'm sorry," he said, to no one in particular.
Overhead, a flash of lightning lit the sky, beckoning a clap of thunder, and all at once, the heavens rained down, drenching the city of Mistral in heavy rain.
"Seems about right," Qrow muttered, hauling himself to his feet. It wasn't long before he began shivering. He pulled his tattered cape tighter around his shoulders and headed back to his kids.
He fumbled with his key in front of the house, clothes soaked through and dripping wet. Inside, he leaned against the door as shivers racked his frame and water pooled beneath him in a puddle. He closed his eyes and and waited for it all to subside.
"Uncle Qrow?"
"Ruby," he sighed, looking to where she was perched alone on the edge of the couch, "what are you doing up?"
"Waiting for you," she said simply. "Where have you been? We've missed you."
They both knew she already knew the answer.
"I missed you," Ruby continued. "I was worried."
Qrow opened his mouth, but then closed it. He didn’t know what to say. Ruby was worried. He'd worried her. She cared about him. Maybe he should feel grateful about that, but all he could feel right now was ashamed.
"Come sit down," Ruby patted the couch next to her, "you look tired."
That was probably true. He hadn't slept in a while. Qrow shuffled over and slouched into the soft fabric.
Ruby tugged a blanket over his shoulders, sticking her tongue out as she concentrated on adjusting it just right. Qrow just sat there and let her.
"There," she said, curling up next to him, warmth pressed against his side. She didn't say anything for a few minutes, which was unusual for her, and then came a soft, "I'm sorry Uncle Qrow."
What was left of Qrow's cold, bitter heart shattered.
"No, kid, no, it's not--this is my fault, this is all on me. I'm the one who's sorry. Don't be sorry, don't blame yourself for, for this," he gestured vaguely at himself, his current state, "for me. I'm just..."
"It's ok," Ruby said, and Qrow was inclined to believe her, because she was so honest and pure and good. "I know it's hard, Uncle Qrow, I understand."
Having this conversation was a hell of a lot harder than anything he'd imagined.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "You kids deserve better than this, you deserve better than this, kiddo. I'm...I'll do better, I can do better."
Ruby smiled, and hugged him tighter. "I love you, Uncle Qrow."
Qrow let his eyes slip shut, and rested his chin on her head. "I love you too," he whispered.
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peaches-of-1 · 6 years
Text
(BTS) Golden Lover: Chapter 3
Namjoon x Black!Reader
High Fantasy, Magic, spells, gods and goddesses
Mstrlst in bio!
“Darling daughter?” Mother called.
“Yes?” You replied.
She nodded towards your plate, “Are you not hungry?”
You shook your head and set your utensils down, “Please excuse me. It seems that my sickness lingers. I’ll be turning in early.”
“I’ll walk you to your room, Princess.” Jimin stood from his seat.
“I can--” You began, but Father cut you off. “She’d quite enjoy that. Thank you, Jimin.”
You wanted a shower. You wanted to be alone with your thoughts and smelling salts and a few cats, but no. Jimin chattered excitedly about how beautiful your Egypt was. How warm and humid but irreplaceable it’s beauty was.
“Um, Princess? I couldn’t help but notice how you were during dinner tonight. You didn’t get some bad news, did you?” His voice softened.
The worst, “Of course not. I just...I haven’t had much time to myself today. I’ve been quite busy entertaining the guests, getting to know you all.”
“I wouldn’t lie to your future husband, Princess (Y/N).” He laughed.
You swallowed hard and his smile fell.
He looked down, “I didn’t mean offense, Princess.”
“I don’t wanna marry you. I decided that from the moment I met you.”
“I see.”
You looked at him, “Please don’t be upset.  I just...my father is making me choose a husband within the next two days, before the end of the festival.”
He looked at you, “We leave in three days.”
“Of course.” You sighed. “I just. I don’t wanna lose the throne due to my being stubborn. I want a good king to rule by my side, but I want to love him as well.”
“Marrying for love? You are a special one, princess.”
You scoffed and laughed, “Whatever do you mean?”
“As a royal, I would think that you would have given up marrying for true affections by the time of puberty. Often thinking instead who can help their country or prestige the most. However, you still hold onto the hope.” He looked up at the sky.
“Should I give up hope, though?”
Jimin shook his head, “Never. I believe love is powerful and one of the purest things on Earth. If you were to give up on it, then what would you have left?”
A small smile played no your lips, “You speak our language well.”
“Thank you, Princess. May I ask you a strange question? It’s something both Hobi and I were wondering.”
“You may if you tell me who Hobi is.” You replied with your arms behind you.
He didn’t know you were taking the long way to your room in order to speak to him more, but he spoke curiously. Kind but honest, and you could feel the amount of love he had in his heart. How he gave it to everyone and everything.
“Hobi is our nickname for Prince Hoseok.” Jimin smiled, “Would you like to prepare a dance with us? For the festival send off that is. We’re both proficient in dance, and your father was singing your praises at dinner. It’s ok if you don’t. Even if we cannot work as marriage partners, then I’d at least want to work as friends. Performers.”
“You’d want to dance with me?”
He nodded in ernest. It was true that you were often seen dancing in the square with your body covered in jingling gold. Oftentimes in the middle, you’d stop a robbery or something, but a princess had to know her people to serve them. That was your philosophy at least.
Back to the matter at hand. This Jimin was interesting, very interesting.
You nodded, “So, whose style would we do. Yours or mine?”
“I was thinking a fusion of our styles. Don’t you think that would be the most fitting?”
You smiled for the first time in hours, “I’d enjoy that very much. I know just where we can practice and teach each other the basics.”
This time, the prince smiled so big that his eyes disappeared, “Yes! Thank you, dear princess! Guide me, and then we can meet after dinner.”
Right, you were supposed to be unwell. You led him to the dancing spot in the garden where a stage would most likely be set up. The grass there was just growing back from last time you turned down a marriage. Then you both went to the door in front of your bedroom. As he returned to the eating hall, you snuck away for a quick swim.
A small meow was heard from the sideline, Qasab Alsukar. You told him to stay where he was and not to jump in. He walked to your pile of clothing and laid down in them. It was a stunning starry night. All your worries drifted away as you floated on your back, your twisted hair fanning out around your face.
You thought about the princes and were glad that you had been honest with them. Even if you wouldn’t be getting married to them, you could still be close to them. Having dueled with Jungkook, showed some artistic landscapes to Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok had become your dance partners, and Yoongi was your fellow animal lover.
He had even asked you if he could take one of the cubs home, and you said yes once they were a bit older. Then there was Namjoon.
Why did your heart do that everytime you thought of him? It pounded in your ears, and you closed your eyes to shut out the sound. It didn’t work. He was gorgeous. His smile made you want to smile. The way he treated a pet that was not his. Qasab Alsukar could’ve been a street cat, but he still showed the kitten the same care as a house cat. Kim Namjoon. (Y/N) Kim. That’d be your name if you were to marry him...or his brother. The way Yoongi talked about his friend, it seemed as though he gave that kindness to everyone.
Mayhaps he’d be a good husband...maybe you did lo--
The splash of a rock to your left startled you, and you turned to see who it was. Your relaxed demeanor turning stern.
“What is the meaning of this?” You ordered before you recognized the person standing there was the man you had just been thinking of.
Kim Namjoon bowed low, “Pardon the intrusion, Princess (Y/N). There was a snake approaching you, and it did not seem you noticed. I threw the rock to hit it or at least scare it off.”
Looking around, you saw a serpent unmoving in the waters nearby. It most certainly would’ve killed you if it had gotten any closer.
You turned to him once more, “Thank...you...”
But he was gone.
Ah! Dinner must’ve been over. You put on your clothing after drying off quickly and then began walking towards the meeting place for you, Hoseok, and Jimin to begin practicing. As you got close to the archway, you realized. Kim Namjoon had seen you naked. Your breasts had been above water. How long had he been standing there silent? You made a note to speak to him the next time you saw him as your cheeks began blazing.
Alsukar mewed at your heels, and you picked him up, “Mayhaps I should get guard dogs since you did nothing to warn me, you little rascal.”
He licked your nose and meowed. Too cute. As you went into the dance room, the three of you and a drummer practiced until morning. None of you wanting to take too long of a break. Wanting to do your best to show unity and friendship and just in awe of how well you worked together and not wanting to break the flow of good energy.
You were woken up by a beautiful serving girl. Bahr. She called your name and said that she was relieved to see you. Groggy, you blinked and wondered what she was talking about. The kingdom had been worried about you and the princes since no one knew where you had gone and they had found a dead poisonous snake in the pool where you were known to sneak off to.
“We were just practicing for the festival. Where’s Iset?” You dismissed her worry with a smile.
“Her room.” Bahr replied.
“I apologize for the worry. Please inform everyone that we are fine. I’m sure father will be happy to hear me interacting with the princes.”
She nodded, “Does that mean you’ll be performing at the festival with them?”
You looked at her, “It does. I’ll be dancing with Princes Jimin and Hoseok. A fusion dance for the occasion.”
She couldn’t help but smile, “Does that mean you’ll be finding a husband this time around?”
“Maybe. I think I’ll have to if I want to be next in line.” You looked down.
Bahr had been here for many years but spoke formally, “Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but...I want to see you married. If you do not love your husband, then you can learn how to. Then you and your kingdom will be happy.”
She kissed your forehead and left. Breakfast had been left on a platter by your bedside. You must’ve missed it in order to sleep after dancing for so long. Iset showed up while you were eating and scolded you for disappearing. She called you a cat what with the way you went where you want when you wanted to. She went on and on with her heart on her sleeves and then asked you where you had been after all.
“With the princes…” You said. “We’re planning something for the festival and were practicing all night.”
Iset raised a brow, “For the festival or just for you? Which princes? What?”
You explained yourself and promised it was for the festival, “I’d never fool around like that...at least with nobles.” A small grin crossed your face from memories.
She sighed, “Well, I’m glad you’re opening your heart. Do you have a favorite? One you could at least learn to love once you get wed?”
Namjoon’s stern and focused face appeared in your mind once more. Ugh why him? You shook your head, ans Iset gasped.
“Who?”
“It’s nobody!” You bit into a slice of bread.
She huffed and crossed her arms.
“Fine, Namjoon! I...he’s kind and he’s the one I’m most interested to learn about. I’m lured to him. When I think about him, my heart races and I think about him when he’s not around. I don’t understand. I’m not interested in anyone but him.” The honest words tumbled out faster than you could hold them back. Your began hitting your head. “What’s wrong with me? Why does he plague my thoughts so?”
Iset couldn’t help but giggle as she held your hands, “My dear, you’re in love with him.”
“I...I could never!”
She grinned, “Whatever you say, (Y/N), but I felt this way when I saw my husband for the first time and for days after. Love at first sight is a rare thing, do not throw it away for your stubborn pride.”
“Anyways, are you doing anything during the festival? You’ll be leaving soon afterwards as well, won’t you?”
Your fellow princess and best friend gave a nod, “I am. We’re planning on having our first child and being more serious about ruling our people as a couple and securing the throne. All that joy.”
You looked out and saw Prince Namjoon and Yoongi on their way to the river behind the rest of the boys just talking. Taehyung had a large smile as he walked backwards with a towel in his clutches.
He noticed you and waved, catching the eyes of the others who turned around and did the same until Namjoon bowed. Then they all followed him by bowing as well. You rolled your eyes trying to ignore the glimpse of Namjoon’s smile and the skipped heartbeat it caused. Iset stood next to you as soon as you turned away. She waved as you missed Namjoon’s smile falling once he could no longer see you.
_____
“Namjoon-hyung.” Taehyung called. “Do you have feelings for the princess?”
“No!” Namjoon blushed as Yoongi replied, “Yep. He sure does.”
Jimin piped up, “ I think she might have feelings for you too.”
The prince’s ears perked up, “What? How?”
He disclosed how while he danced with you and Hoseok last night that you asked about him, what kind of prince he was. You had said that you wanted to spend more time with Namjoon but were nervous to approach him.
Hoseok added, “She wanted to know what plant you were talking about when you first met? Apparently you met her before dinner.”
“Ah, yes. In the market. Her father was quite strict and she was walking around without protection. Her cat followed me and...it’s the catnip.” Namjoon cut himself off when he was met with blank stares. “I brought some because I heard there would be a lot of felines here.”
A black cat with a golden ankh necklace rubbed at Yoongi’s ankles, and he picked her up, “At least you were right. I’m glad, too.”
“I’d be a good husband for her. At least, I’d like to think I would be.” Namjoon continued. “She’s cute and I enjoy her personality. I er...saw her in the pool last night...nude.”
The men all stopped and started to ask overlapping questions.
“I’m not telling you anything! I just noticed someone in the water, looked to see if they were ok. It was the princess, and there was a snake coming towards her, so I stoned it before it reached her.”
Jin replied, “Oh, Namjoon-ah! So heroic!” He laughed.
Jungkook smiled along. The boys all talked about how in love Namjoon was with the princess, and he was shy and blushed all through it. The black cat was nearby the whole time. She bathed in the sun and ate a fish Namjoon caught for her.
As a direct son of the King, Namjoon had a lot of land.  A lot of resources but he was not in line for his own throne. That was Seokjin, but the younger royal was in charge of training warriors. Jin was in charge of money. Taehyung was in charge of agriculture. All of them seemed like they were good friends. Marrying just one of them could ensure so much for your people.
All of them knew this, but only one of them could marry you. It was obvious to them who they wanted it to be. Fishermen were nearby, shirtless and wet with strong arms from constantly casting nets and lifting heavy loads of sea creatures for a living. Prince Jimin watched the tallest of them intently, head in his hand.
“I have an idea!” Said Jungkook when everything was quiet, startling the cat and Jimin.
Yoongi smiled at their reactions, “It’s ok, kitten. You should go home now. I’m sure (Y/N) misses you very much.” His eyes gave a silver glow.
The cat meowed, surprised he knew the truth. Namjoon offered to walk her back to the princess, so he dusted off his shorts, threw on his robe, and held the beautiful cat in his arms.
“What’s your idea, Kookie?” the quiet man asked.
“Well, we all know we’re not getting with her,”
“YA!” Exclaimed Jin. “We haven’t even spent much time together. How do you know--”
Jungkook spoke up, “Why do you think that is?”
The oldest stayed silent at that and pouted. So the youngest explained a plan on how to get the two royals together. It would happen the day of the festival. It sounded like a good plan to the other princes. Jin was a bit downtrodden that the princess hadn’t gotten any one on one time with him, but he hadn’t really gotten the chance. He’d try to know her true feelings and from there decide if he’d be a part of Jungkook’s plan.
As Namjoon got closer to the palace, the black cat stayed close to his chest. She was adorable and the Prince thought about asking to keep her as Yoongi had done with the lion cub. Then the cat looked around and began to freak out as RapMon (affectionately called Mon-ie) ran up to his owner. The cat jumped out of his arms and ran as Monie barked and chased her into the Princess’s room!
“Mon-ie, NO!”
A strange flash of light came from the room, and Mon-ie ran out of the room and into his owner’s arms with his tail between his legs. Namjoon then worried for (Y/N) and ran into her room.
“Princess!” He called as he entered.
She looked at him. Princess Iset was there as well. The prince bowed, “Sorry for the intrusion, princesses. I just thought I saw...um. Did a cat come in here? I was trying to return her. Yoongi said she belonged to you, so I came from the beach, I mean river, to--”
“Yes, she ran out the window.” Iset replied, “She’s quite an outdoor cat. Can’t stay in one place for too long.”
She took a slight glance at you, and you blinked and looked around as if you had just returned to your own body, “Namjoon?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Please prepare something for tomorrow’s festival. I want you to show off your talents yourself instead of hearing about them from your friends.”
He blushed, “W-What would you like me to prepare?”
You looked at him, “Do whatever you think will win me over, Princey.”
The man bowed, “Yes, Princess. I do hope you feel better.” He then moved to leave, stopping mid turn. “Oh, right. Catnip.”
“What is it?”
The prince motioned to the plant in the windowsill that had cats swarming around it and soon lying down here and there.
“Cats really like it. The plant that I brought for you.”
“Oh…” You said, looking at the plant then back at him. “Thank you.”
He gave a flash of his dimples as he smiled, “You’re welcome, Princess.”
“I seem to be thanking you a lot.”
“Your presence is all the thanks I need.”
With that, the Korean prince left and closed the door behind him. Namjoon was worried. What could he do to impress the Princess in just over 24 hours? He went to the room that was prepared for his stay. Several cats had fallen asleep on his now relaxed white dog. At least they seemed to have figured each other out.
The prince stood on his balcony and looked out upon the scene before him. Sandy browns and tans that matched his golden skin helped to contrast the green of trees and blue of the ocean. Darker browns of people dressed in whites and gold popped out here and there. Namjoon wanted to write. He grabbed a notebook from his luggage and began writing, his hand struggling to keep up with his mind.
He wrote about Princess (Y/N). Her black twists like snakes around his heart. Snakes he loved, the tail of a cat. The ears as well, perking up to every creature. No. No. It was so messy. So unclear. It matched his mind. He was never good at showing his feelings towards those he was attracted to. Then again, it was a rare occasion. The last time he fell in love with Princess Wheein, and she was married off and sent away without him knowing.
They spoke through letters until she had her first child. That was years ago, but it still stung from time to time. Her sister was currently pursuing Taehyung, but everything had been put on hold for this trip, this chance to marry a foreign Princess. More beautiful than any of the words people had used to describe her.
Namjoon took a deep breath and remembered her in the market. That tattoo on her list. Remembered her at dinner that same night. He wasn’t sure why his heart hurt when he saw her conversing with his friends. Like when she and Taehyung were leaving to go on what he later found out what was a boat ride on the nearby river. It was for his little brother’s artistic inspiration. The deepthinking Prince recalled how his heart soared when, one by one the boys announced that she had only wanted friendship from them.
The word was on the tip of his tongue. The only logical explanation for his feelings. Love. But it couldn’t be. There was Wheein. There were all the girls at home and...he didn’t feel like this towards any of them. Not since he had seen (Y/N).
Before his eyes flashed the woman floating in the pool after she excused herself from dinner. She had seen so upset during the meal, so he was glad that she was smiling with her face towards the stars. His heart did a funny little tingle.
Prince Namjoon began to write once more.
Is this love Is this love Sometimes I know Sometimes I don’t The next line What should I write? So many words are circling me But I don’t like a single one I just feel it Like the moon always rising after the sun Like nails growing, like trees shedding their leaves When winter comes You’re the one To turn my recollections into memories Before I knew you My heart was only in linear motion
Yeah. That was a good start. It was the truth about his feelings. This was what he’d perform for the Princess at tomorrow’s festival.
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conspiraships · 5 years
Text
feeling bad so here’s a sexy coping fic
v: hey laur l: Yes Valerian? v: have you heard from mercy today? v: laur? l: No. I was checking my messages and calls for timestamps. v: yeah same. they havent responded to anything ive sent all day. l: I'm not going to be home tonight. Still on assignment. I can't go check on them... v: ill be home tonight. ill let you know l: Alright. Thank you. v: love you l: I love you too, Valerian.
--
"Mercy?" Valerian's voice doesn't betray the uncertainty he feels. When he first realized Mercy hadn't responded all day, he thought it was a fluke. After all, they run one of the more successful restaurants on Alpha. It gets quite busy with species of all kinds coming in for a taste of their cooking. They go hours at a time without messaging back, but they always take a break, and even if it's just a quick video message, Valerian and Laureline hear from Mercy.
Valerian kicks his shoes off, taking the time to set them nicely by the door, giving Mercy time to respond.
"Babe?" he tries, flipping on the overhead light of their living room. He's both relieved and even more tense to see the room just how he left it several days ago. Relieved because no one has been there, but tense because... that means Mercy hasn't been there.
He walks through the living room and pokes his head into the kitchen, flipping the light on as he goes. Nothing. He turns the light off and bypasses the bathroom, dark and unpleasant. ("I wish it had a window," Mercy remarked when they moved in. "It's kinda creepy without one. I'll never use it without the light on."
"What if the power goes out?" teased Valerian, grinning when Mercy playfully gasped. He cursed when Laureline smacked his arm.
"One of you will always be around to rescue me," Mercy decided.
"From the big, scary, windowless bathroom."
"Valerian!"
"Ow! Laureline!")
Valerian comes to a stop outside of their bedroom. There's the faintest glow of a light on under the door and he doesn't hesitate to open it.
"Mercy?" he calls out, reaching for the light switch.
"Please don't turn it on."
With no hesitation on his part, Valerian drops his arm back to his side and he squints into the darkness of the room.
Their voice sounds so...
"Babe..." Valerian swallows and steps into the room, shutting the door behind him.
The light he'd seen was the street light shining in from the curtains, half closed and illuminating the foot of the Alaskan King bed Valerian, Laureline, and Mercy all shared. He couldn't see their face.
"Hey," Mercy murmurs, and Valerian notes they don't even bother sitting up to greet him. "Didn't think you'd be home yet."
"Merce, it's already nine." But not even that gets them to sit up. Instead, he can faintly make out them pressing their palms to their eyes.
"Fuck," is all Mercy says.
For a moment, neither of them say or do anything. Valerian can only squint through the darkness at one of his partners, wondering what is going on. Laureline is better with this. Val needs Mercy and Laur to tell him outright what's going on. Laur can read him and Mercy, and can pick up better on moods than he can.
And then a sniffle hits his ears and Valerian moves to the bed in less than a second.
"Baby," he coos, moving to Mercy's side. "Baby, baby, baby, I'm here." It's easy to pull them into his lap, and he guides their head to his shoulder to hide their face from  the light. "Oh, my Mercy," Valerian says as the sobs hit Mercy full on.
In the dark of their bedroom, with only the street lamp as guidance, it's impossible to tell how long Valerian holds Mercy for. He rubs their back, smooths his fingers over freshly dyed inky black hair (it's nice, he thinks. The last time he saw them they were blond. Black suits them more.), and murmurs sweet nothings against the top of their head.
"I'm right here," Val says. "I'm not going anywhere."
He startles when Mercy actually replies in that cry-hoarse voice.
"Why?" they ask.
"Why what?" Val asks back.
Mercy curls their hand against his shirt and finally lifts their head to look at him properly. His heart aches because they just look so tired.
"Why are you still here?" Mercy asks.
To that, Valerian has no answer. He doesn't understand the question. He tells them as much, and Mercy sighs.
"There's no point," they say. "You'll be... So much better off without me. You don't need me. I bring nothing to the table. I do nothing for you, or for Laureline. Why stay?" Both of their hands tighten against his shirt. "Why? Why? I'm not worth it. I'm not worth anything. You're better off without me, I'm better off dead I'm just..." They trail off in sobs.
It clicks in Valerian's head, though. He knows they have depression. He knows there's so much in their brain that they call 'wrong' - ("It's not wrong," Laureline says smartly. "It's how your brain works. The chemical balance is different for you than it is for Valerian and myself. But your brain isn't 'wrong'. It's you.") - that it gets to them. But they have therapy, and medication. They have him, and they have Laureline. They...
They've been alone for almost two weeks due to Valerian and Laureline's assignments.
They haven't had him, or Laur.
"You bring yourself to the table," Valerian starts. He usually just clings onto whatever Laureline says to help Mercy, but she's not here and making Mercy wait because Valerian isn't good at this is just cruel. "You bring a witty, funny, charming, caring, selfless person to the table."
Valerian's hands go back to rubbing their back and smoothing down their hair. "Laur and I do need you. We love you. We... I... Mercy, I love you. Laureline loves you. Even if you stayed at home all day, we'd still love you. We love you, and we'd be lost without you. I know I would be lost without you." Valerian takes a breath and presses a kiss to the top of Mercy's head again.
"Baby," he murmurs against their hair. "You are so important to us. Please. Please remember, okay? No matter what the bad thoughts say. I love you. Laureline loves you. You're part of us. Remember? We're neapolitan. You're the strawberry, Laur is the vanilla, I'm the chocolate. Can't be a real neapolitan without the strawberry."
When all Mercy responds with is a sob, Valerian can't help but smile.
"I promise. Laur and I aren't going anywhere."
"Thank you," Mercy mumbles, voice distorted through Valerian's shirt. "I love you, Val."
"I love you, Mercy."
--
v: theyre okay l: Just okay? v: brain stuff l: Shit. I'll be home in a few days to help. v: k. theyre sleeping right now. i think i did okay l: Did you say the ice cream thing? v: i said the ice cream thing l: You're ridiculous. v: and yet you both love me anyway l: Somehow, we do.
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thetravelerwrites · 6 years
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A New Generation (Pt. 2)
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Rating: Teen Fandom: 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride Relationships: Hatori Chise x Elias Ainsworth Characters: Elias Ainsworth, Hatori Chise, Chise Hatori, Silver Lady, Silkie, Ruth, Titania, Oberon, Shannon, Stella Barklem, Angelica Burley, David Burley, Althea Burley, Lindel | Lindenbaum, Merituuli Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Babies, Infants, Depression, Anxiety, Discrimination, Unplanned Pregnancy, Abandonment, References to Abuse, References to Abandonment, References to Child Murder Words: 8551
As Chise's pregnancy progresses, Elias is consumed with worry that his child will be rejected by both fae and humans, as he had been. Chise struggles with the fear that she might abandon or harm her own children, as her parents did. 
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When Elias returned home from London, he sat down with Chise and had a very long, solemn conversation with her about the pregnancy, and for the first time, they talked about a future that also involved their child. Or children, if Chise was correct in her belief that there were two.
He told her about going to speak with Lindel, Simon, and Angelica and what their advice had been. Like him, Chise found Angelica’s tale the most consoling. Knowing that the artificer had felt similar apprehension about procreating helped Chise feel less isolated.
Calling Angelica and talking to her at length also did much to improve Chise’s disposition, not just about Chise’s ability to parent but also about the pregnancy itself. It didn’t cure her of her worries, but having someone to talk to who knew exactly what she was going through was a great comfort to her.
Finally managing to convince Elias to install a landline in the house had been a pretty recent accomplishment. He fought this "modern indulgence" for quite a long time, but when he finally understood that it meant she didn’t have to walk to town to use the public phone every other day, he was more open to the idea, especially since walking long distances was going to become rather difficult for her as time went on. The noise the device made was annoying, but seeing her smile when she answered it was enough to keep him from being too bothered by the sound.
The change in her mood greatly eased Elias’s mind. Watching Chise spiral into a deep, black pit of terror and depression was difficult for him to bear, especially given there was little he could on his own to improve it. As much as he wanted to help her, he had eventually come to understand that sometimes people could only find solace in others who’d had comparable experiences. This was just not his ken, so it was better left to those suited to the task.
He tried to quash his own fears for her sake, but she knew him too well to let him get away with keeping those thoughts to himself. At night, before they slept, she would talk to him; just talk, not expecting him to respond if he wasn’t in the mood to do so, and it helped him. Hearing the sudden shift in her voice from cold despair to tentative hope had done much to alleviate his woes. She encouraged him to be honest with her about what he felt, but didn’t push him to talk if he didn’t want to. More often than not, though, he would. They would lay bear their worries to each other and try to find the bright side. They were both still afraid, but they were facing that fear together.
And it helped.
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Summer was in full swing, and Elias was twice as busy as normal now that Chise was limited as to what she could do. He didn’t grumble about it much; after all, he had done everything himself before she had come along. But they had become a well-coordinated, efficient team over the years and he had come to treasure her reserved, supportive assistance in all things, whether practical or magical. He rather missed working in tandem with her.
Though she was no longer allowed to do any of her normal seasonal chores beyond a little light weeding and watering, she would often sit in the garden with him as he worked and help whenever she could, not content with staying in bed all day like an invalid. Besides, having Chise within Elias’s sight and hearing was good for his heart and mind.
Ruth spent his time keeping a close, watchful eye on her, reporting any physical ills that Chise might keep to herself to Elias. As long as she was at rest, though, they were happy enough.
Late one night, he walked into their bedroom to prepare for sleep and found her naked in front of a mirror, standing to the side, looking down at her belly.
“What are you doing?” He asked curiously.
“Look at my stomach,” She said, her hands gently probing her lower abdomen. “It’s bigger. And it’s hard, too. Feel.”
Elias came close and laid his hand on her stomach. It was indeed hardened, as though she had swallowed a large stone, and there was a swelling between her hips; not big, but definitely noticeable.
And perhaps he imagined it, but he thought he felt a strange swirl of energy embedded there underneath the flesh and muscle, lodged deep in her body. No, two swirls. Perhaps Chise’s instinct was more credible than he first thought.
“Hmm,” He said. “Why is that?”
“Angelica says the uterus thickens and becomes more solid to protect the fetuses,” She said, reaching for a book on her nightstand. “It says so in this, too. Alice sent it to me. I told her about the babies, by the way, but I swore her to secrecy. I haven’t told Stella yet, but she’s busy at university and I didn’t want to bother her during finals.”
Elias bent to peer at the book. “What is it?”
She flipped through the rather large paperback volume. “It’s a book about pregnancy and birth. It’s actually pretty informative. So many things make sense now.”
“May I read it, then?” He asked. “There is much I still need to learn. I have a distinct dearth of knowledge about this particular subject and I feel compelled to rectify that.”
“Sure,” she said, handing it to him. “I’ve read up to the third trimester, so I won’t need it for a little while. I hope it helps.”
In some ways it did, and in others it didn’t. During gestation, he learned, the woman’s body produces excess blood to carry extra oxygen to the baby, which in turn causes the mother’s heart rate to accelerate for the duration of the pregnancy, which in turn causes her core temperature to rise. That explained that part, at least.
But other aspects of pregnancy and childbirth were, to put it mildly, horrifying. Things like nosebleeds, strange cravings, extreme mood swings, increased sex drive, swelling of the extremities, sudden hair growth or hair loss, violent fits of vomiting that lasted for months, soreness almost everywhere, food aversions, heighten sensitivity of smell, touch, and taste… the list of physical oddities was extensive. Bones would often be pushed out of the way and change position to compensate for the growing child, sometimes even fracturing or breaking in the process. And all of this was considered normal.
And those were just minor possible symptoms. The more severe ones were downright ghastly. There was no end of ways that it could go wrong, no end to the possible damage to the mother, no end to the ways the child could be born ill or malformed, and that was just for regular, non-magical children. There was no telling what kind of ailments could befall the child of two mages, especially if both parents were cursed.
And the descriptions of the birthing process itself, including the many, many things that could go awry, was nothing short of nauseating. Several times, he had to shut the book and put it aside for a while, appalled at what he learned. He hated to admit it, but sometimes knowledge for knowledge’s sake wasn’t always a good thing.
Once the first physical changes had begun, time seemed to speed up. Chise’s body changed rapidly, her stomach growing larger every day to carry the new life safely. She seemed especially breakable these days, and Elias couldn’t help being even more protective than he had been before.
For years before he had bought Chise, nothing had changed. Things went on as they always had, and it was as comfortable as it was dull. Then, once he met her, things changed, but it was a slow change. Even though things happened that never had before, it came at a pace he could understand and absorb.
Now, everything was new and happening too fast for him to process, and he was trying his best to keep up. He did not adapt well to change.
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One afternoon in late July, while Chise was having her afternoon nap, Elias awoke her with a touch to her cheek.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Little Bird,” He said softly. “But there is a guest downstairs who has come a long way to see you. Are you feeling up to greeting them?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
Downstairs, she saw a tallish, pale man standing in their sitting room in modern clothes, looking around the room curiously. His blonde hair was separated into two bunches and hung over his shoulders. The the pupils of his bright blue eyes were slits, like that of a wild predator.
“Lindel!” Chise exclaimed in surprise.
When he saw her enter the room, a wide smile split his face. “It’s good to see you, my daughter,” He said, his arms open toward her.
She rushed forward to give him a hug. “What are you doing here? The dragons--”
“Can survive me being gone for an hour or two. Besides, Merituuli is to inform me right away if anything should happen while I’m here. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I wanted to check on you.” He held her at arms length and looked at her belly. “You’re coming along rather quickly, aren’t you? I sense very strong life essences brewing in there. Your offspring will be incredibly powerful mages. I can’t wait to meet my grandchildren; you must bring them to the aerie once they’ve been born.”
“More than one?” Chise asked.
“Oh, yes,” Lindel replied. “Two separate, distinct energies, hale and healthy, growing well.”
“Ha,” Chise said quietly. “I knew it.”
“Now,” He took her hand and hooked it around his arm. “Why don’t you give me a tour and tell me all about your preparations for the little ones? I’ve never actually been to Thorn’s home, you know. The ungrateful brat has never so much as extended an invitation.”
Elias sniffed slightly and sat in his chair, picking up a book he must have been reading before Lindel arrived.
“Of course,” She said, turning. Silver was looking in shyly from the kitchen, where Ruth was having a snack. “This is Silver Lady. She’s a neighbor who runs the house and looks after us. She’s been a big help to me.”
Lindel bowed. “A pleasure.”
Maybe it was Chise’s imagination, but she could have sworn Silver blushed.
“Good to see you again, Ruth,” Lindel said pleasantly. “Keeping a sharp eye on our favorite girl, are you?”
“Of course,” Ruth said. “She’s been getting plenty of rest, but she’s not eating as much as I’d prefer.”
Chise sighed heavily. “Elias’s fussing is bad enough, but having a fae nanny breathing down my neck all day is really irritating.”
Lindel laughed softly. “I would imagine so.”
Chise showed him her old room upstairs with Ruth trailing behind, where Silver had surprised her one day by converting it into a nursery. Silver, at least, seemed very excited about the new additions to the family and was going to extraordinary lengths to make sure the house was ready for their arrival.
The brand-new cupboards were stacked with blankets and swaddling and dressing gowns and cloth diapers, all handmade by Silver. There were double changing tables and bassinets, set side by side, and even a rocking chair next to the window. Chise had no idea where all the new furniture had even come from. Silver had used neutral colors to decorate the room: a mix of light and dark browns and soft purples and blues. The walls had been painted with a mural of wildflowers and trees, and the floor was plush grass-green carpet, as though the room was outside in a meadow. It was beautiful. Chise had cried and hugged Silver for quite a while when Silver presented it to her.
Ah, mood swings.
Elias had not been prepared for these emotional outbursts and, quite frankly, neither had Chise. She’d go from really happy to really sad to really annoyed all in the span of a few minutes. It was rather dizzying for the both of them. Ruth tried to warn Elias when they were coming, but he couldn’t always tell, so they were often blindsided by a sudden explosion of emotion that even Chise didn’t always understand. He supposed there was some comfort to be found in the fact that she was just as confused as he was.
Chise showed Lindel Elias’s study, and her workroom beyond where she practiced her spellcraft, and then decided to take a break in the garden. Lindel sat with Chise, talking animatedly about the baby dragons and happily eating Silver’s sandwiches and cakes. It was probably a nice change from stew. He even coaxed a song from Chise, one he had taught her in Icelandic about a hungry raven that slept beneath rock rifts. She had missed singing with him.
The sound of their voices raised in song brought Elias out to join them. He hadn’t heard her sing in some time and was pleased to hear it. She only sang when she was in a good mood. The resonance of their voices made the trees stand straighter, the flowers bloom brighter, and the sunlight shine gently upon them without being overpowering. When Lindel and Chise worked together, everything they touched was magic. Elias couldn’t help but be a little jealous of that.
The visit was a splendid one that did much to brighten Chise’s spirit. Before long, Lindel felt the aerie calling his heart home and left Chise with a hug and well-wishes. He even shook Elias’s hand.
Lindel snapped and sparked and was gone in a flurry of snow and cinders. Chise was sorry to see him go. She really felt as though Lindel was a surrogate father. When he called her his daughter, there had been weight to it. He genuinely meant it.
Chise made to go inside, but Elias took her by the hand to stop her, looking off into the woods.
“I believe we may have further visitors,” He said, taking his veil and flinging it over his face. He pointed to the treeline.
There, almost invisible under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, stood a fae woman of indescribable beauty. Her black hair trailed behind her and brushed the ground as she walked, and her skin was as smooth as the petals of a lily. Her eyes, the colors of which shifted as though iridescent, were locked on Chise from where she stood motionless in the shadow. How long she had been there, no one could say, but her attention was on Chise and nothing else.
“Lady Titania,” Chise breathed.
As though summoned, Titania stepped out of the shelter of trees and began to walk toward them. Spriggan stepped out of her shadow, the gold rings adorning his staff jingling as he walked. He looked as surly as ever.
“My dear, sweet robin,” Titania said, holding her arms out to Chise and she stepped forward. “Oh! Isn’t it so wonderful!”
“I assume the little folk have informed you of Chise’s condition,” Elias said.
“Oh,yes, my child. I can’t tell you how pleased I am! Oberon is beside himself.” She glanced back to the forest’s edge. Chise and Elias followed her gaze to see Oberon running to and fro, giggling like a child and throwing flowers into the air. Chise laughed softly and shook her head.
Titania returned her attention to Chise and touched her hand to Chise’s belly. “Look how far along you are! I must say, though, I am terribly put out that you hid it from us for so long.”
“I’m sorry,” Chise said. “I… it’s been… difficult.”
Titania took her face in her hands. “Poor child,” She said. “Do not despair. This is a blessing. What a wondrous gift it is to be mortal. The fae do not breed well with each other and as such, our children are rare. That’s why there are so many old tales among mortals about halflings, though such things are far less likely in this millenia.” Her gaze brushed across Elias’s tall form briefly. “I suppose it’s how your race proliferates so effectively. You’re like rabbits, in that way.” She giggled.
“Oh, what a wonderful turn of fate!” Oberon crooned gleefully, skipping around the group of them. “I can’t wait to see the new little mages. Is there any chance at all they’ll be blonde? Oh, nevermind, they’ll be adorable either way!”
“Titania,” Elias started, ignoring Oberon as he pranced around them, laying a flower crown on Chise’s head. “You have the gift of foresight. Can you…” He paused, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest, as though in pain. “Is there any way to tell… that is to say…” He stumbled to a stop.
“Elias,” Titania said kindly. “Ask your question plainly, and I shall answer as best as I can.”
Elias sighed. “The children… our children… will they be… like me? Half-creatures, hated and shunned for the sin of merely being alive in a world where they do not belong?”
Chise’s heart bled for him. It must have quite a blow to his pride to ask that question. She knew he’d never admit it to anyone, not even her, but the constant reminder that he was neither one or the other was something that caused him perpetual grief. The idea that he was terrified his own children would share this fate made Chise’s heart ache. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it consolingly.
“Oh, Thorn,” Titania said sadly. “I see branches; roads that split and diverge like serpents in the sea of potentiality. I see many possibilities, though some are more likely than others. I cannot give you a solid answer because the paths are still many and multiplying. I cannot tell you for certain what will be.” She laid a hand on his chest and smiled. “But would you like to know what I feel?”
He nodded, apprehensive.
“I feel love and joy,” She said. “I hear laughter echoing within the walls of this dwelling. Your children will have fragments of their father residing in them, as all children do, but they will have the protection and favor of all who love them. And there will be many who love them. They are blessed by the Queen of the Fae herself, and my blessing is no paltry trinket.”
“Titania, I…” Elias said, unable to continue.
Oberon slid over to his wife and winked at her, a wide smile on his face. He then turned to Elias.
“Do not fret, thorn child,” He said. “However tainted your lineage may be, you are still one of us, and your bride is beloved by our kind. Your children, then, will be doubly revered by all fae. You have no cause to worry.”
“Thank you. That is… very comforting,” He replied, though his tone said to Chise that he was still rather troubled.
Chise endured another few minutes of Titania and Oberon’s doting before they decided to depart. She felt rather relieved when they left. They could be a lot to handle all at once.
That night, lying in bed with Elias, the question he had asked the Faerie Queen revolved over and over in her mind.
“Elias?” She asked softly, trying not to wake Ruth. “Are you still awake?”
She couldn’t see his pupils, but he did answer. “Yes.”
She lay her hand on the back of his neck and stroked it. “Are you really worried about how the children will turn out?”
Elias sighed. “It does not matter to me what they will look like,” He said somberly. “But it will matter to humans. Experience has taught me well that mankind does not adapt quickly to things that are strange or unusual.” He turned his head to look at her. “The fae will not care about their appearance, either, but they will see them as my children, spawn of the halfling failure. That alone may be enough to draw the ire of the fae against them, despite what Titania and Oberon said. Those two have never failed in their kindness to me, but it is borne out of pity, not respect, and the rest of the fae are not so magnanimous. Some are indifferent to me, but most, like the Spriggan, are openly hostile. I do not wish for my children to suffer because of who their father is.”
“Oh, Elias,” Chise said, holding him close. “I wish I could--Oh!” Chise sat up abruptly, pulling the covers down and placing both hands on her belly.
“What?” He asked in alarm, turning to sit up. “What is it? Are you alright?”
“I felt them.”
“You did?” He asked.
“Yes,” She said, moving her hands around gingerly. “I felt a thumping on the inside. I felt some flutters before, but I was never sure what they were. That was definitely a kick.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at her abdomen.
In response, she took his hand and laid it down on her stomach, instructing him to wait. He did so, and it took nearly five minutes, but there was a distinct nudge against his hand.
Chise looked up and smiled at him, but his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t decide if he was excited or panicked. Talking about the baby, seeing her belly expand, making preparations: for some reason, none of that made it feel real. But this did. Feeling the tiny movements of the child on his own skin from the inside of her body was what made it reality to him.
“We should call on Shannon tomorrow,” Chise said. “I’m twenty weeks. It’s about time for a check-up.”
“Y-yes,” He said vaguely. “Of course.”
She took his face in her hands. “Are you all right?”
“I do not know,” He answered honestly. “I am… frightened.”
“I know,” She said. She laid her forehead on his.
They stayed that way for many minutes, their foreheads touching, his hand on her belly, feeling the little jumps and thumps of his children moving about inside. Frightened was not an adequate word for what he felt. He didn’t know if there was a word strong enough.
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Time seemed to move very fast for a while, and then suddenly slowed to a snail’s pace. Before they knew it, it was winter. Chise had grown very large, and Shannon expected the babies to come a few days after the new year.
Chise kept to the house exclusively now, since moving was more difficult, not to mention that Elias was highly paranoid about her catching an illness in her condition. She spent much of the time nesting, which is an instinctual habit among mothers-to-be to make sure everything was in its proper place and perfect. Silver had taken care of most of that for her, but it didn’t stop Chise from folding and refolding all of the babies’ linens and making sure things were just so.
As the time for the birth came closer, the atmosphere of the house grew more and more anxious. Chise was rather sick of being pregnant and was ready to be able to stand without assistance and not eat what felt like half her body weight every day. Ruth was restless and impatient. He could feel the time getting closer just as acutely as Chise did.
If Chise was anxious and Ruth was restless, Elias was downright terrified. He spent a lot of time alone in his study, unable to control this emotion. He didn’t want to worry her more than she already was, but he couldn’t push away the awful feeling of dread.
He had slowly grown accustomed to the idea of the children, but not the possibility that they would take after him. The idea that they could be subjected to cruelty and discrimination for simply being his children made his blood run cold. How could he protect them against that kind of hatred? How could he shield them from the animosity of both humans and fae? He could weather it just fine; he was used to it, and some of it was deserved. He had once been a monster, after all. But they would be innocent and guileless. They didn’t deserve to be treated as he had been.
As much as he tried to hide his worry from Chise, he knew she felt it. He could see it on her face when she looked at him sometimes. It wasn’t pity that she showed him, but empathy. If anyone would understand, it would be her, but this was just one thing he couldn’t talk to her about. She always tried to soothe him and tell him things would be fine, but she had no way of knowing that for certain. Blind optimism just didn’t work for him.
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Very late on the night before Christmas eve, a sharp yelp of pain woke Elias from sleep. It had been Ruth: he had bounced out of his bed and shot to Chise’s side, immediately switching to his human form. Chise was sitting curled around her stomach, gasping.
“Chise?” Elias asked.
“I think my water broke,” Chise gasped. “I’ve been having contractions, but they weren’t bad until now. We need Shannon.”
“Shannon! Silver!” Elias called.
A flash shot through the room. Elias turned on the lamp and found Shannon standing next to Chise, trying to pull her to her feet. The silky came through the door in an instant, a tub of hot water and many towels in her hands. It was almost as if she were waiting for the call.
Shannon had Chise sit on a wooden chair with a curved back, urging her to recline with her pelvis tilted out, putting a pillow behind her to support her back. Silver helped Chise out of her underwear and flipped the hem of her nightgown up over her stomach, exposing her entire lower half. Chise didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about her tender bits out for the entire room to see. The pain was pushing everything else out of her brain.
“Is it supposed to hurt this much?” Ruth gasped, his arms wrapped around his stomach.
“There are two living creatures the size of watermelons attempting to tear their way out of her body, Ruth. Yeah, it’s gonna hurt,” Shannon said dryly.
“Sorry, Ruth,” Chise said, breathing heavily. “I’m trying to block it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ruth said. “I don’t really care about me right now.”
“What can I do?” Elias asked anxiously.
“You and Ruth, get on either side. Both of you hold her hand with one of yours and then let her use your other hand to brace her feet on. She’s going to need the leverage when she starts pushing.”
Elias and Ruth, took their positions. Chise had already begun to sweat profusely and was breathing shallowly. Silver stood at her head, stroking her hair gently and ready with a cloth to wipe her brow.
“Deep breaths, Chise,” Shannon said, kneeling on the ground and pushing a gloved hand into Chise’s body to gauge her dilation. “Nine centimeters,” Shannon said, removing her hand. “Not quiet ready yet, but it’s going to be soon.”
Chise could only nod, attempting with little success to take deep breaths as she was instructed. Her head rolled to look at Elias with fear in her eyes.
“It’s too early,” She said in a terrified whisper. “I’m not due for another three weeks.”
“It’s all right,” Elias whispered, knowing he might be lying. “It will be all right.”
Chise had no choice but to wait until her body opened up enough to start pushing, and it took a few long, miserable hours of pain and sweating. By the time Shannon got into position, it was only an hour before dawn.
“Okay,” Shannon said. “Elias, Ruth, take one foot each and push it toward her chest, but not forcefully. Chise, take several deep breaths. When I say, take a very deep breath, hold it, and start pushing. When I count to ten, you can let go and breath again. Understand?”
Chise nodded, already very tired from the waves of pain she had been suffering over the past few hours. She steeled herself and began to take slow, deep breaths.
“Ready? Okay, deep, deep breath and push!”
Chise pulled in as much air as her lungs could take and held it, bracing her legs against Ruth and Elias’s grip, and pushed with all her might, her face pulled back in a grimace of pain and exertion.
“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and breathe,” Shannon instructed. Chise blew out her breath explosively and gulped in air.
“Okay, again. Deep breath, and push!”
It went on like this for quite a time. They only paused the pushing for Chise to drink water and for Silver to wipe the sweat from her face and neck. Elias talked in Chise’s ear during these brief moments of rest, telling her that she was strong and that he had faith in her. She seemed so tired, but she smiled at him and dotted a kiss on his nose in reply.
Finally, as the first rays of sunlight shone through the window, Shannon pulled a small, reddish-purple infant from Chise’s body. It shrieked as it took it’s first breaths of life, it’s color changing as it took in oxygen. Shannon placed the sticky ball of outrage on Chise’s chest for a moment, allowing the new mother to inspect the little creature for herself while Shannon detached the umbilical cord.
“It’s a baby girl,” Shannon said, smiling.
Chise let go of Ruth and Elias and wrapped her fingers around the tiny thing as it screamed it’s fury at them all. Chise was crying, too, but not in anger. Her face, red and sweaty though it was, lit with joy as she held her newborn daughter.
Suddenly, she seized up with a sudden contraction and hissed with pain. The baby was whisked out of her arms by Silver, who took it to a nearby dressing table to clean it.
“We’re halfway there,” Shannon said. “Let’s get ready. On the next contraction, we start the pushing again.”
Chise nodded, letting Ruth and Elias take hold of her feet and push them back.
Once the first baby was out, the second wasn’t far behind. It wailed more loudly than it’s twin, thrashing about angrily on Chise’s chest, though Chise clearly didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s another little girl,” Shannon said with a grin.
Tears poured from Chise’s eyes as she held her daughter, gasping from the effort of pushing. The touch of her mother’s hands had calmed the baby and she was no longer writhing spastically, but wiggling and making little grunting sounds, lying on her belly in Chise’s grasp.
After a moment, this child, too, was taken away for cleaning. Then there was more work to be done. The afterbirth had to be removed from Chise’s body, which caused a small fountain of blood to escape. Elias and Ruth panicked, but Shannon said this could happen sometimes and it wasn’t serious as long as it was contained quickly. She gave Chise a tea that would help stop the bleeding and once she had finished it, Silver lifted Chise as if she weighed nothing and took her to the bathroom for a proper cleaning. Shannon followed, leaving Ruth and Elias alone with the newborns, lying side by side and safely bundled up in the crib near Chise’s side of the bed.
While she was gone, Ruth went to inspect the babies up close. “Elias,” He called to the mage, who was still sitting in a daze. “Come and see.”
Elias stood with his heart pounding in his chest and walked to stand by Ruth, looking down at his brand new daughters with a lump in his throat. Now that they were cleaned, he could see them better. They were still wiggly and wrinkly, but there were distinct differences between the twins. One had a full head of white-blonde hair and a peachy-pink complexion, while the other had fine red fuzz on her head and was as pale as bleached bone.
“I remember the day that Isabelle was born,” Ruth said solemnly, lost in his memory. “I had only been with the family for a few months and I didn’t quite understand what was happening at the time. I didn’t know what a baby was. She was so tiny and weird-looking, but I loved her right away. We were together all the time after that. I existed for her; I’d have done anything for her.”
He stared down at the two sleeping infants, his eyes dark with recollection. “I took it for granted, thinking she’d always be there. I didn’t see the dangers until it was too late. I should have done more to protect her. If I had been a better brother, she might have lived a long, happy life. I didn’t do enough, and she died.” He reached out but stopped just short of touching the one with red hair. “For them, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I promise.”
Elias did not respond. He stared down at his sleeping girls rather blankly.
Yes, He thought to himself. I, too, must be better.
Silver and Shannon returned with Chise, clean, wearing a fresh nightgown, and remarkably able to walk unassisted. Elias helped ease her back into the freshly changed bed, then Shannon handed Chise the white-haired baby girl. Shannon insisted that Chise try to breastfeed the baby, as it would help promote clotting. Silver went to work cleaning the gory aftermath off of the floor. Ruth, as a grim, sniffed each child keenly with his tail wagging.
It took a few tries and some urging to get the baby to latch to her breast; apparently babies weren’t born knowing how to do this and had to be taught, but once she found her way, she seemed to be content and fell asleep while feeding, her tiny arm resting on Chise’s skin. Elias watched curiously.
“You probably won’t be able to produce enough milk to fill both babies at the same time, so you might want to supplement with formula. You may even decide to go formula exclusively, which is fine. As long as they get the enzymes from your breastmilk at the start, it’ll be a big boost to their immune systems.”
Chise nodded without looking up, absorbed in the tiny little girl at her breast with it’s little fist around Chise’s finger. She seemed to finish quickly, and Chise lifted the baby for Elias to hold.
“Chise…” He said nervously. “I don’t… I can’t… I don’t think…”
“It’s okay, Elias,” Chise said with a smile. “You’re going to have to hold them at some point. Might as well be now.”
“Just remember to support the head,” Shannon said. “The neck muscles are underdeveloped.”
“Here,” She sat up and, holding the baby in one arm, used her hand to make a cradle of his. “Like this.”
Exercising more care than he ever had in his entire existence, he took the tiny bundle into his arms, cradling it gently. He could feel the warmth of it’s little body through the blankets, as though he were holding a glowing coal. He lifted her up so he could inspect her more closely. As he did so, she opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at him. Her eyes were the color of evergreens, like her mother. But unlike her, the pupils were not round but slits, like that of a wild creature. The eyes of a fae. The eyes of a mage.
“Chise, look,” Elias said, bending to show her. Chise, who had taken the red-haired babe and was feeding her from the other breast, peered at the child Elias held and smiled. Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed curiously.
“What is it?” Elias asked.
“Look at her head, a little bit above the hairline. There’s a bump. No, there’s two, one on either side. Do you see them?”
Elias brought the baby close to his face, examining her closely. There was, indeed, some sort of bump there. Carefully readjusting his grip, he felt the bumps with his finger. They felt like… bone? No, not bone…
“Horns,” Elias said softly. “She has horns.”
Chise laughed softly, her eyes warm with affection. “You certainly can’t deny she’s yours, can you?”
He looked down at her, a new warmth spreading though his chest. “No…” He said. “I cannot.”
“Have you decided on names?” Shannon asked, sitting on the other side, monitoring the mother and her little ones closely.
Elias was taken aback. It wasn’t something he had even thought about. He’d been so preoccupied with his doubts and fears that he hadn’t room to think of anything else.
“It is Christmas Eve,” Chise said, looking out of the snow covered windows. She looked at the little redhead, sleeping peacefully in her arms. “Her hair reminds me of holly berries, so why don’t we call her Holly?” She smiled and gazed at the white-haired child Elias clutched to him. “And with her green eyes, she should be named Ivy.”
Elias sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, bending to nuzzle her head.
“Yes,” He said fondly. “It’s perfect.”
After both parents had a turn holding both of their infant girls, they gave Silver and Ruth a chance. Ruth was anxious and attentive, fearful of being clumsy or accidentally jostling his new nieces and upsetting them, but Silver seemed overjoyed to hold the tiny babes, smiling brightly and giggling at their noises. A better nanny than Silver Lady could not be found anywhere, either in the mortal realm or the kingdom of the fae. Chise had a feeling she was going to be relying heavily on her for the next few months.
While holding Holly, Silver made a small noise of surprise.
“Silver?” Chise said. “What is it?”
Silver brought the baby to the bed and knelt down between Elias and Chise, where the parents could see the newborn’s eyes. The irises were solid black and didn’t reflect light, instead seeming to consume it. The pupils, however, were red. Not the bright holly red of her hair, but a dark crimson red, like blood on snow, and they too were mere slits.
“Oh,” Chise breathed. “Look at that. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Elias, seeing the trace his own eyes looking back at him from his daughter’s face, was at a loss for words.
His children were mostly human, it seemed, but they retained a piece of him, a fragment of his fae blood, just as Titania said. Before, this thought made him worry about their future, but seeing them now, he felt… what was this? It was a good feeling, but it carried weight with it. Pride? Was that it? Did he feel proud? Perhaps so.
After a while, Shannon insists that everyone leave the room to the new parents and their children, and Elias settled himself in a chair beside the bed, with Chise on his left side and the crib on the right. All three of his girls were sleeping peacefully. Ivy seemed content in being wrapped up in her swaddling, but Holly had kicked her way out of the blankets so that she could move freely.
He watched them sleep with mixed emotions, laying his hands on the stomachs of the babes, comforted by their warmth. As if waiting for this, they both reached out and gripped his fingers in their fists and held on with a surprisingly strong grip.
The world could have been falling down around them, but as long as they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t have bothered him. He found he didn’t care all that much at the moment about the concerns that had plagued him before the birth, though he knew they would come back eventually. He felt warm and calm, with none of the anxiety that had been gnawing at his mind for months. Was this feeling happiness? Peace?
He could identify at least one emotion well enough: love. It was different than what he felt for Chise, but no less consuming. Chains of gold and silver had wrapped themselves around his heart. They sprung from the touch of his tiny daughters’ small hands on his own, an unbreakable link that bound him to his newly-born flesh and blood. Instinct drove this behavior, and it was obvious what it meant. They had laid claim to him.
They do not belong to me, he realized. I belong to them. How fascinating.
He had lived for centuries never having tethered himself to any other being. Back then, loneliness and being alone were mutually exclusive concepts. He’d had friendships and acquaintances but felt no obligation to any of them beyond an occasional favor or trade. At the time, he had thought himself content.
When he had acquired Chise on a whim out of mere curiosity, he had not anticipated how his life would change. The connection that developed between them, as slow as it was to manifest openly, was unlike anything he’d felt before. It brought with it many good feelings, as well as many unpleasant ones. Chise’s love was easy enough to earn, but he soon discovered that while love could be unconditional, trust was not. He hadn’t known there was a difference between those emotions until he had betrayed them.
For a while after, their bond was fragile and could snap with any slight pressure he applied to it. It had taken much time and effort on his part to repair the damage he had done, and he had sworn never to do anything that could sever that link again.
But the bond he felt to these two new lives was instantaneous and indestructible, something over which he had no control. He was, for lack of a better term, spellbound.
“I don’t understand.”
Elias jumped slightly at Chise’s soft whisper. He looked over to see that she was awake and staring are her children.
“What is it you do not understand, Little Bird?” Elias replied quietly.
“I thought,” She said. “I thought when they were born, it would make more sense, but it doesn’t. I thought it would help me understand why they did it.”
“Your parents,” He said. It wasn’t a question.
“I thought that once I was a parent myself, I could see it from their perspective, and I’d understand. But I don’t. I would never, ever leave them. I could never hurt them. Never.” She looked at Elias and took his hand. “What they did still makes no sense to me. I guess you were right, Elias. I am different.”
“Yes,” He said, holding her hand to his cheek. “Do not be sad, Chise. That is a wonderful thing.”
She smiled, and her gaze returned to the infants. “You’re right. It is.”
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During the first two months, which Chise and Elias used to get accustomed to the new routine of parenthood, the twins developed personalities that were as different as their appearance. Holly was an independent little thing and didn’t like to be swaddled or held for too long, while Ivy loved to be cuddled and preferred to be held by Elias over anyone else. He was more than happy to hold her at all times and soon became deft at doing things one-handed.
After this necessary adjustment time, they decided to have a small gathering of friends over to properly introduce their children. They had invited Stella, the Barley family, Alice, a few friends from the college including the brooding Adolf and enthusiastic Tori, and even Renfred. Over the years, Elias and Renfred had forged a tense acquaintanceship. Chise encouraged them to be better friends, but in the end, she figured anything was better than open hostility.
They had invited Lindel, too, but he didn’t want to leave the aerie again. He insisted they bring them to him instead, which they promised to do when the children were a few months older.
“Aren’t they darling?” Angelica said, looking at Holly sleeping in sixteen-year-old Althea’s arms.
“They really are,” Stella said, now nineteen, as she tickling Ivy’s feet while David held her. The baby cooed at Stella as she did so.
“Ya did good, Chise,” Alice said. “You cooked up some real nice babies in there.” She poked Chise’s stomach, which was now much smaller and thankfully no longer sore.
“That’s a weird phrase, Alice, thank you,” Chise said.
Renfred had been mostly quiet during the gathering. Alice had told Chise that babies make him nervous; he liked kids better when they were old enough to follow orders.
Elias was similarly uncomfortable with so many people in his house at once, and eventually, it drove him outside to the garden. Cold though it was, he sat at the garden table with his tea and sighed.
“Are they not lovely?” A voice said to him from his right. He turned to see a small, child-like figure standing there nearby. She wore a simple white gown made of thin silk and a crown of baby’s breath around her head. A circle of snow underneath her feet had melted away and flowers had sprung up all around her. Her hair was black, her skin like petals, her eyes like the wings of a dragonfly.
“Titania,” Elias said, standing. “You’ve come alone.”
“I have, though I shan’t be long,” She said, her voice belying her youthful appearance. “I bring with me gifts for your little ones.”
“Gifts?”
“Yes. The heartache you expressed when last we met has stayed with me. I felt compelled to do something to set your mind at ease.” She opened her hands, and lying in each palm was a ring carved of dark wood, one on a gold string, the other on a silver one. “I told you your offspring held my favor, did I not?” She asked. “That was not a lie. You need not worry for their safety from our kind. These will tell all fae creatures that your babes are my godchildren and therefore under my protection.”
Elias did not recall agreeing to such an arrangement, but accepted the rings with a bow.
“Thank you, my Lady,” He said. “This is most generous.”
“You must bring them to visit us, Thorn,” Titania said. “It’s been so long since there were children in the Faerie Kingdom. Oberon is dying to meet the new magelings.”
Elias nodded without speaking, not committing to this. He wondered if her favor extended to not trapping them in the faerie realm.
“Be well, Elias. Take care of our sweet robin and those beautiful children. Dwell no longer on the darkness in your past and look instead to your future. Your legacy now resides in those new souls that you created, and not the mistakes you have made. You have been given a divine gift. Do not take it for granted.”
“I assure you, Lady,” He said seriously. “I have no intention of doing so.”
She smiled at him, and the body she inhabited burst apart into flowers and floated away like the seeds of a dandelion, carried away on a sudden wind that smelled strangely of spring grass.
Elias lifted his gaze to watch the petals drift away, putting the charms in his pocket.
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Once everyone had gone home and the house was quiet again, Elias picked up a wailing Ivy, who quieted immediately, and sat with Ruth and Chise as Silver laid out their dinner. Chise fed Holly with one arm and fed herself with the other. Once Holly finished, Chise passed her to Ruth to be burped and held out her arms for Ivy, who Elias passed carefully over the dinner table. Silver waited at Ruth’s elbow with a spit-up cloth. They all seemed to be easing into this new normal well.
Elias and Chise took the children to their room and laid them down for sleep, with Ruth curled up on the floor between them. He was better than a baby monitor. Ruth was taking his oath to Elias to protect the children very seriously and was just as involved in their care as every other person in the house. It seemed there was no shortage of babysitters to be found for the new parents, and Chise found that comforting. The nightmare she’d once had of being overwhelmed with caring for two children at once with limited help faded from her mind.
With the children abed for a least a couple of hours, Elias and Chise took this time to spend with each other, something they hadn’t had much opportunity to do since the birth. They sat together on the couch of the sitting room, Chise in Elias’s lap and wrapped up warmly in his arms. She was so tired, she could have fallen asleep if she let herself.
“I’m sorry the party got too claustrophobic for you,” Chise said, twining and untwining her fingers with his.
“It’s all right,” Elias said. “I am actually glad for it. I’d much prefer that the girls were introduced to all our friends at once rather than make many trips to achieve the same result.” Reaching into his waistcoat’s pocket, he pulled out the ring pendants he had gotten. “Besides, while outside, Titania left a give with me.”
Chise took the trinkets and looked at them curiously. “That was nice of her. What are they for?”
“Protection, she said. It’ll ward off any of her kind that would do them mischief.”
Chise smiled. “She’s very thoughtful for a fae.”
“Yes,” Elias agreed. “I wonder if she will extend the same blessing to any additional children we may have.”
Chise swung and looked up in surprise. “You want more children?”
“It's not outside the realm of possibility. We can talk about it later,” Elias replied.
“You're serious. You really want another baby?”
“I merely said we’d talk about it.”
“That’s not a no.”
Elias laughed.
“Give me a year, at least,” Chise said in exasperation. “My body isn’t ready for another one so soon.”
“If you wish,” He said, hugging her tightly.
They sat happily in each other’s arms for the next hour, taking a well deserved rest, until one of the babies began to cry. Elias released her and followed her up the stairs to the childrens' room, where he consoled Holly as Ivy fed. When Ivy was done, they switched. After feeding, the infants resumed sleeping. Before they left, Elias affixed the charms to the wall above their bassinets, the silver one over Ivy, and the gold protecting Holly. The parents, exhausted, climbed into their own bed and fell asleep at once.
Every day brought something new, and Elias was learning so much so quickly. His entire universe had shifted, and thought it had taken time to get used to it, he greeted each wonderful development as they happened with an open heart. He awoke eagerly every morning in his new life, looking forward to what might be.
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overbakedone · 6 years
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1
this is the first time i've ever started writing my thoughts and feelings anywhere before. this is not easy.
instead of writing things and then deleting it all because its not good enough or it sounds stupid i'm just going to write it now and stop backspacing. i guess i should start with where i am in life right now so there is some perspective.
im 25, im a bakers apprentice, i live with my parents, i have a girlfriend, lets call her ‘C’ who for the first time feels right to me despite everything, i barely have any friends, they don't ever want to see me, i don't have much time in my life right now, i work all night and struggle to fit sleep into my schedule. but things are really the best they have ever been for me. i just started an AFL 9′s competition, weird i usually have no confidence going into these things and will either quit after the first practice or not even show up, i really kinda enjoyed it and am excited for next week.
i've wanted to start writing anything for a few months now, i guess now i have some time. time is so fucked up, i wish there was more of it, i wish i could sleep without wasting my day, i wish i didn't have to compromise sleep for everything but i do, i guess its part of being a baker, its a job i am loving and i think i've found my life passion but it has its ups and downs. my partner C expects a lot of my time i guess, she can be very needy at times, demanding almost, sometimes i feel pressured by her to sacrifice my sleep, personal plans and hobbies and interests for her, but i know what she feels, she wants the same thing i do. she has problems making friends, or keeping friends, she feels isolated and alone, and she wants my companionship, and i want that too and despite anything i feel in the moment i always feel happy about her at the end of the day.
i should be grateful for the relationship i am in right now, i really should be grateful for a lot of stuff, my parents for allowing me to stay here still, being so supportive and also allowing and accepting of me and really tolerant of the shit i do. ok so i do smoke week every day right so that's already something to do at home that's difficult, i'm pretty sure they know and don't care or even agree that my life has been better since i started smoking, fuck i used to be on antidepressants, i took one every day at a certain time, it made me feel a bit better, ok sounds just like smoking right, expect when i didn't take this pill i got nausea, headaches, severe episodes of depression, i couldn't eat my appetite was so fucked up i was eating one meal a day and it was like a piece of bread or takeaway food. since the smoking started i've found some actual passion in life, i don't feel like a useless number anymore i guess.
one of the things on my mind always is my friends, since i was in highschool i havent really had a group of friends, i feel like i am a social person but then when it comes to it i feel like i just get burned. a lot of my old friends turned out to be secretly hating me and not wanting me around, some sort of pity friendship, i was an asshole in my time and honestly was not a good friend myself, do you pay for the dumb shit you do as a teenager, the people you fuck over go from your life completely yet new people you meet do the same things to you like they know. i had/have a long term best friend, J, we had been mates for years, we worked at my old job dominoes together for a bit, and kinda hung out a few times, but not until we got into PC gaming together did we form a bond. after that we would chat every day, play games together, watch the footy together, go places even though he lived across the city from me. one thing that changed massively in my life was i quit drinking alcohol, and then i felt like all my friends both disagree with my choice and resent me for it, like for some reason i have to take the same drugs they are taking at that time to be their friends. so J has just grown more and more distant, i get that we are older now, we both have partners, jobs that take a lot of our time, but then when we hang out or talk he seems disinterested, more interested with his friends that i introduced him to (from our discord server) and has seemingly replaced me, none of these guys i really like at all, in fact the only one of the new group i like is the one girl in it because she actually has interesting things to say.
fuck that was a paragraph, i guess i should talk about alcohol.
alcohol has fucked up my life, i cant repair the mistakes and stupid things i did while drinking alcohol, so they are there, i guess its just talking about it left. to start off, when i drink alcohol i have a hard time finding my limit, i feel like i swing from nothing to completely blacked out, puking, sobbing and basically hating myself very quick, i feel sick for days after drinking, barely able to eat, leave bed, move, i feel so nauseous and tired, its so fucked up what it does to your body, but oh your mind is even worse. i've broken off relationships, cheated, threatened people, gotten into fights, brawls, got my arm broken, hurt myself repeatedly, gotten arrested and a criminal record that may prevent me from going to canada next year, and is currently delaying booking flights, ive missed work, shown up drunk same clothes no shower to work, but the main thing that alcohol does to me is makes me sad. alcohol makes me so fucking sad, it makes me reach into the deepest pits i can think of and brings out all the emotions that are in there, my ex being the main one. every time i used to drink id think of her, call her, text her, go on her facebook, look up her instagram her twitter, fuck it drive my car to her house to see if her cars there like that does anything or means anything just fucking alcohol is so stupid. i never want to feel like that again, i never want to sabotage my life, sabotage and self destruct my relationships, but i guess losing my friends is the thing i have to take in consideration. australia is a fucked up place, where drinking heavily is the social norm and if you don't get fucked up or even have a beer with mates you're a loser.
i just want a deep connection with my friends. when i was in newcastle with my partner, i  met her friends there that she had been living with, despite the fucked up things that happened to her there, she lost a lot of friends herself and a long time friend, had trouble finding new ones, trouble fitting in, the friends she had there were the most honest and truly welcoming, connecting people ive met, and i miss that. i miss having a friend you can just, go over to their place, sit around for 3-4 hours talking shit, laughing, listening to music, relaxing and sharing stories and shit. weird that people can have such an effect on you in a short time. the life i live here is full of making plans, only for them to be cancelled, inviting friends over, for nobody to show up, cancelled plans all the fucking time, i've never been asked to just come over and chill, never its always some group thing that i'm invited to as well. i even try talking to them about this, i told a group of girl friends i have, i miss you all and haven't seen you in so long, we need to have a casual hangout, and the message was almost completely ignored, i asked them all to come to mind to watch the grand final, the house was free, i got a big projector screen, big comfy couch, live central right in the middle of everyone, nobody even replied or brought it up again, yet the second someone else that lives in the far corners of perth brought it up everyone started chatting about their plan to go. so if that's not my friends making it obvious they don't want to see me, they only include me then thats fucked up. i don't know what to say, this happens all the time, my 21st birthday i invited 65 people, and less than 15 people showed up. its hard to keep trying, always trying, i always try to make social events, i always ask friends what they are doing, when they can see me, make plans, they get cancelled, they are busy, they say they're coming then don't show up, most of the time i never hear a word too, they just dont show and don't even apologize, is that a fair thing to do, yeah sometimes i dont go to my friends events, i'm too fucking tired or just don't feel like going, somethings come up, i tell them straight away i cant make it i'm sorry this has come up, yet i don't get the same courtesy.
am i an unlikable person
the guys at work seem to like me, so i started a baking apprenticeship, basically i started watching great british bake off and picked it up as a hobby, making cakes and stuff, actually i should go back. so i used to work in some shitty small software company in the city, 9-5, peak hour traffic, office drama, workplace bullies, understaffed, overworked, red tape and bullshit everywhere, i quit after 2.5 years for mental health reasons, i made a lot of money but had to move on, so i spent a year off , it was only supposed to be a few months, go on a holiday road trip with my then partner, S, she broke up with me via a text message right after eagles lost to melbourne at home, basically the footy game was more disappointing, we had a shit relationship, i think i resented her, i cheated on her, yeah i'm an awful person and deserve everything, she was an emotionally manipulative person, terrified of her own body and sex, tried to dominate my life and change me, im glad we broke up. so i stayed unemployed for a long time, over a year, barely looking, until i found this baking apprenticeship, not only did i apply for the job and write a completely custom cover letter (im so fucking lazy i usually close a job application the second it requires anything more than an apply button) AND i called back a few weeks later when i heard nothing, well turns out that call landed me the job, the apprentice they hired instead of me was useless, had no passion and was a slow worker. so i got the job, and basically have been killing it ever since, i get a lot of praise at work (lots of criticism too) baking is one of those things that takes time, its all about time, so i got a lot to learn but i am actually confident once in my life, holy shit i have a job i like and am good at. is this the dream?> lol 
so today i started writing my feelings down, and its kinda felt good, but i'm exhausted now, and my fingers hurt, so this is the end of my first post, i hope nobody reads it, its really just for me but i don't know. 
thanks for listening   i guess 
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choco-milktea · 3 years
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10.23.21
i wonder if he thinks im bipolar or something lol. ive been very up and down with him, hot and cold with the way i act around him
ive been very distant and ive been worried about how to remediate that so that we could go back to being friends. but i didnt know how to do it in a natural way lol
today i offered to open the door for him as he wheeled a patient to a room. and i could tell he was surprised to see me but he answered sarcastically, “well if you’re already here” he was smiling and i know he found my question and the situation funny
so i rushed to the door and excitedly said, “ok wait, stop stop stop” as i opened the door for him and the patient
i told him “youre welcome” playfully passive aggressive and i think he said thank you? idk
but he definitely asked where ive been, and i think he said something like i havent been around
i said i quit . idk it just came out lol
and hes all like, “you quit... but youre here” implying i said something stupid, which i admit it was lol
and i paused and said “yes” to his statement lol. i could tell he found it amusing
then after doing some work i went to find him, to take initiative to maintain some kind of friendship.
i tried to be casual and said, “oh here you are. i was wondering where you were since i didnt see you in the back. i was like did he leave already?”
i mentioned without him asking me that i moved to morning shift to which he called me a traitor. i told him i didnt like doing so much work with all new hires and i guess that made him realize that they were all new
i told him i miss seeing graveyard shift and talking with them. 
he said something weird: “well we miss you”
and i scoffed and was like “speak for yourself”. i was trying to imply that graveyard does not know me but i panicked after those words left my mouth and don’t remember what was said right after lol
then he asked whats new with me and i said not much to which he somehow did not believe and scoffed at
i said ive been busy with school and rambled about how i hate it
then he actually asked something about me which he usually doesnt. he asked where i go to school? to which i replied with the school and he said its a really good school. then something about the pants being blue lol. i was literally thinking what, why is he saying this stuff lol
i think he also asked me when i graduate somewhere in there but i dont remember clearly. i was trying so hard to seem casual and nonchalant
i asked about the status of his applications for PD and fire
he was very detailed compared to when i last asked him about it, which was only a month ago. but there was also someone else present at that time too, so maybe its something he wanted to keep low-key? idk
anyway this really got him talking. which i know always does so the fact he wasnt so willing to share last time confused me
he explained almost everything about the application process from the 400 question long personality test to how he needs to do the polygraph a third time. how it took hours going to different rooms. hes waiting for a followup to the results of his “test” and he doesnt have an estimate time. i learned his father is also in the police department. he might get grandfathered in. he seemed very proud of his father... i thought it was weird that officers usually get paid decently but he implied that his family doesnt live in a house
anyway he seems to have a lot of friends trying to get in or are in the police department, he shared snippets of their experiences with PD constantly throughout our 20 min talk
another question he asked me which is sooo rare is when he asked, “ive been meaning to ask you, did you like the comedy show?”
i told him i liked it and it was funny and fun. i keep forgetting to thank him for the night. 
anyway he asked me (again, so rare) if ive ever been to one before. i told him i did once when i was younger.
he said he was going to a comedy show special next month. i wanted to ask who he was going with. i hate that i was kinda hopeful that he would ask me to go too cuz the timing... the transition into it was ... not there lol... it almost seemed implied that he was about to ask me. but i know im reading too much into it
but i asked what it meant by special and he said it was an hour long of one person, then i asked who it was and he said a name ive never heard before lol. apparently hes really funny and i looked him up in the computer in front of me. then i sensed him get closer to me to help look this guy up. im glad i kept my cool lol. anyway c.g. recommended i watch the guy’s stuff on netflix in a certain order. i probably readily agreed like an idiot cuz im not thinking straight lol
ngl i kinda liked that i made him neglect his work LOL. someone else had to go to him to take over a task he was putting off. its a sign that he either enjoys talking to me to the point he willingly puts off his work or that he simply lost track of time (while talking to me)
then morning shift came in and settled into their assignments. i made an escape and c.g passed as i talked to a coworker. i heard him ask about the location of his glasses as he took my conversation partner away. i forget he still wears them sometimes
at my mobile computer they were on their way out and he passed by while tapping my computer desk. he wanted my attention and wanted to make sure i knew he was leaving. i didnt, or rather couldnt, make eye contact as i got into my work. i kinda wish i spared him a glance so i could see his expression or something. maybe a sign of affection lol. but i said bye, and he said “see you next month” and i said “uhhh maybe” lol
i really hope a month doesnt pass before i see and talk to him again. thats been the pattern lately. it was a very productive day in terms of reestablishing and salvaging our friendship
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davesheart · 7 years
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dearest of angels,
i write to you in this manner for fear of overwhelming the limited space the IM system allows; i shouldnt like to have you wake up to 20 messages consisting of 20 paragraphs and have you think something has gone terribly wrong between us - it has not; letters are merely friendlier i understand how busy you must be, and a letter does away with the need for an urgent reply that is usually attached to messages i understand, so i try not to worry about there not being a rendezvous point set for us yet; perhaps you are in no hurry to see me, or else are in a hurry to tend to other things either is fine, if not exactly ideal what youve missed of my life is the following:
moving to new york ✓ (i thought it an investment in the future - our future; the one you saw on your trip) getting a job as a museum guard ✓ (surprised, given my credentials? so were they. but sometimes a girl just wants to be alone with her artefacts) being sued in an honest to god court by a haunted house for allegedly ‘scaring all their ghosts off and hurting their business’ ✓ (dont worry, theyre losing) enrolling in a program for archaeological digs at hadrians villa this may ✓ (id forgotten how difficult it is to get into these places without a university backing you up, but thats a job ill migrate to once weve chosen the right place together - because we do end up stuck there together, dont we?) missing you, endlessly, and with great fear in my heart  ✓ (in progress)
as you can see, mines been a more active stagnation: a sort of a dog-chasing-its-own-tail type of situation  the point is, a lot of what ive mentioned doesnt matter as much as it ought to, simply because ive not shared it with you much as ive dragged you down this path with me, youve poisoned my ambitions as well - theres no feat, great or small, relating to our field, that is not lesser for your absence i understand your desire to take a break from this sort of intensity - love is draining at the best of times, isnt it? i envy you the easier variety you seem to have with jade. i dont know how to love without shouting it from the rooftops, how to hold on without leaving scorch marks. lucky for us, both our future wives do
your last letter did a lot to quell my anxieties, and i thank you for the foresight of writing it before it i thought that if you could build a present out of not having me around, that youd surely be able to survive a future without me in it as well; more than that - that youd want one. part of me was set to vacate the premises of your right atrium, to force an evacuation, should you wish it so im happy that youve permitted me an extended stay more than that - im overjoyed 
if youve had similar concerns, or i dont seem as attached as i used to, please understand that neither is the case i want nothing more than to see you, to wrap my arms around you again, were it not for the fear that i could not be able to let go after - or that id cry, or beg the shirt off your back for want of something that is yours that i could cling to in your never-larger absence (what a fool i was to give you all your clothes back and not leave a shred behind for the rainy days); one look from you and ill be recovering for days (your eyes are a fire i could drown in, have i ever told you that?)
im afraid you dont need me as much as you used to, im afraid ive become something of a bad habit for you - like the cigarettes we share, something you really ought to quit and stomp out for the sake of your own health, im afraid of anything your words might bring after 2 months of radio silence, im afraid of how unessential to your life i can be but - most of all - im terrified of your absence  in this plethora of fears, that might be the only real one
but just because we havent found our footing yet doesnt mean we wont and just because i havent seen you yet doesnt mean i wont and these are the things that keep me sane that, and the very thought of you ‘every direction i move has always been, will one day be, once was, and always is toward the precarious cliff of your collarbone’
love you more than ever, aradia { @clockworkkatana }
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heabidethfaithful · 5 years
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I decided to write here again, because I havent been journaling. Carrying around a notebook seems burdensome whenever I feel like writing and I dont bring it, and when I bring it I dont feel like writing. So I guess ill have no excuse for an online journal haha! So... oh ya, I blocked all my previous followers cos I want to make this private already. I think there are some things even my closest confidant do not need to see. Also, I dont want him to have the responsibility to always attend to me, because that will make me rely on him too much. I suppose this space will force me to remember and turn to God, which is what it should be... so here goes. I can't seem to know how to make my entire Tumblr private again. I can't find the option. If anyone sees this page, can let me know and help? Thank you. somehow I “post privately” but I can't seem to view it on my page, only drafts and I never touch drafts.
Well hi God, I'm watching show as I type this. LOL. anyway, sigh ive been feeling down. I feel sad thinking that Darren’s fam doesn't like me. But maybe its just in my head. I should not over think. Today I also feel sad because a seller sold an item I wanted. I knew I wouldnt be able to afford it, but I never got a reply on my enquiry. She finally replied in a very deadpan manner, with a statement that offended me. Honestly, I dont mind if I dont get the item, usually I let it go, and I usually congratulate the seller on the sale. But I expected a standard “Oh I'm sorry, I didn't reply, and I sold it” kind of reply. then I replied in a way I thought was fair, and politely. In fact, I thought I should receive an apology, even though I didn't ask for it. the end result? I got blocked!? WHAT? does she hate me? and if she does, WHY? is it because I didn't complete my deal with another dealer and he told her? Did she judge me and never gave me a chance? In my self doubt, and fear, I consulted another seller. Okay Lord, you know la to be honest I just wanted someone to be on my side. I felt like angry that I was treated this way and I guess I wanted someone to be against her too. Anyway, turns out, to my surprise, she thought that MY message was slightly offensive. I dont know how?? Lord, I feel so like WHATONEARTH.... I mean, okay - Maybe I overthink too much at times.... did I read the original seller’s message wrong? because I fully believe that I think you know... its not like I see something and try to think of it in the worst possible light. How come, I’m always wrong? How come I’m wrong when I’m expressing my view and not even blaming? I feel like I'm always wrong. wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong and its no one’s fault but mine. WHY? how come I see one thing and everyone else sees a different thing?????? its so frustrating. Do I just have alot of insight or alot of wrong insight??????? sigh Lah lord. its making me start to feel alone and that everyone is against me. Another part of me thinks, no no one is against me, but I’m just screwed up. None are good. both are bad. sigh. okay I shall attempt some method to find verses haha:
Let love and faithfulness (Jesus) never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man.Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. (proverbs 3:4-6)
I guess I must always remember that jesus is with me so I have favor and a good repute amongst sellers. I guess I must always see that other have love and are committed, and that they are good, so that they are encouraged by me, and I will also have favor and a good repute with them. I will also trust in jesus (that he is working in me and that he's working all things together for my good), and do not rely on my own thoughts and logic or sight. Also, to submit (listen to what he says and follow it, not listen to my own thoughts), and doing so he will make my path straight (things will be smooth.)
This is what the LORD says: "Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who draws strength from mere flesh and whose heart turns away from the LORD. He will be like a shrub in the desert; he will not see when prosperity comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives. But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is Him. He will be like a tree planted by the waters that sends out its roots toward the stream. It does not fear when the heat comes, and its leaves are always green. It will not worry in a year of drought or cease to produce fruit.
I guess I must also not trust in man, to give me a good image or a bad image. They have good in them, but they have own things to deal with. As I will not be able to see when good comes if I'm always basing my expectation on them or their behaviours or their interpretation of mine! I will trust in the lord, for my relationships, finance, business, reputation. Then I will see it when good comes. Eg. I blame Darren that he didn't tell his family I got snacks for them, but I put it on him that he didn't help me have a favourable image in their eyes. I should quit depending on him and just look to jesus.., sigh. Oh well, thank u lord. Remind me when I forget. I still feel moody though., I think I'm physically tired... I think I feel condemned for not doing work today...I feel worried about my crisis module tomorrow...I feel like ugly from my pimples.... I feel less pretty than I was in the past... I feel unsuccessful in my business (and havent replied messages for over a week)... I feel worried that the seller who sold me the broken items would not want to refund me a portion of the amount.
Lord, you refresh me and give me the ability to sleep early today..its okay to take weekends off..I will still do well...I will do well in my crisis module...My overall score for crisis module will still be A+...My pimples will be gone with sleep...my pimples will not return...I am prettier in my own sight and other’s...I am successful and I shall be led by peace and not fear...I will be refunded more than I expect...it is a good night Lord.. thanks for helping me.. I guess no one could really fulfill all of the above... alls well with you. Thanks jesus. May your word fulfill its purpose.
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the-fiction-witch · 7 years
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Scientists
MOVIE: MAZE RUNNER AU COUPLE: NEWT X READER RATING: CUTE + FLIRTY
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THIRD PERSON POV:
the room was dark except two small lights on the desks with newt and y/n stood doing there work trying to avoid looking at each other yet repetedly doing it "you look nice today" he smiled at her "thanks, you too" she smiled in reply before the room was scilent again they kept smiling at each other till the door to the room opened and light from outside flooded in making them both sigh and quickly retunr to there work making it look like they even looked at eat other "morning guys" a happy male voice replied with a obvious accent the man stepped in turning on the main room light illuminating the whole scince lab it was minho "morning minho" newt sighed not removing his eyes from  his work "morning newt, hows eve?" minho asked coming into the room fully and standing infront of newts desk putting a coffe cup ont he corner of the desk "she's fine, with her mother, I will hopefully go see her next month providing I get this battery finished" newt explained still not remvoing his gaze from his work his tone seemed detached and concentrated with but a obvious rather adorable and out of place south london accent "i get it, tough world" minho sighed before going over to the other desk "gooood moorning y/n" he smirked leaving on the desk "hello" she answered breifly "coffee, extra cream, no sugar.. and look" he explained giving her the cup he then took off the lid "i dusted chocolate into a heart for you" she smiled at her "thanks minho, you might not wanna lean there" she suggested "why is that?" he smirked "beacuse your about to knock over a tube of salfuric acid" she answered breifly "oh, thanks" he said quickly moving away and sitting on a small stood near the wall far from the two desks newt then took a sip of his coffee "minho i did ask for cream too you know this is basicly black" he sighed "they where out" minho replied breifly checking his phone "but you got y/n- never mind never mind, this is why i have the draw" newt sighed opening a dark in his desk filled with little resturant cream packets, sugar packets and various others all neatly sorted by there containments "i havent sorted this out for years, minho did you?" he began to ask "i did actuly newt i thought you might like it all organized so you can find what your looking for" she smiled at him "also it was anoying me knowing what a mess it was" she giggled "well thanks y/n"he smiled at her getting a cream packet and adding it to his coffee they all continued there work for a while knowone really saying or doing much till the clock hit 1pm "okay im going on a lunch run what does everyone want?" minho asked getting up "same as normal" y/n answered consentrating on her work "same" newt added still focusing on his work "okay, see you guys later then" minho sighed getting his bag and heading out the door leaving the two alone again "thanks for sorting everything for me y/n, i dont know where i'd be without you" he smiled at her "your quite welcome newt, i guess this means ive paid you back for cutting my hair off from that fire last week" she smiled with a little giggle "its okay, im sorry i did such a bad job of it" he sighed "its okay, i kinda like it" she smiled they both then staied in scilence till they heard a car leave just outside the wall indicating to them minho had definatly left "newt about last night?" she began "y/n, lets not okay, were at work" he told her "i know but-" she began "y/n" he said again interupting her "i had fun too, you dont have to bring it up everytime" he laughed at her "i know, i just like telling you" she giggled "you get really mad when i bring it up" she sighed "i know i do ... im just not sure im comfortable with it all yet y/n,  i guess im too distracted" he sighed "youve been distracted for weeks" she sighs "i know its just that...i cant get this stupid thing to work and stop exploding, and vickys pressing me to take eve for next month and i cant even afford to get the train down to go get her without fixing this stupid battery... not to be rude y/n but, you and me is the least of my concerne right now" he explained to her "its okay newt i understand" she smiled coming over to him "have you tried flipping the internal mehcanics?" she asks "yeah, that makes it worse" he answers "have you tried using a different inoizer?" she asked "yeah then it doesnt charge properly" he sighs "have you tried, flipping the battery store to the other side away from the power inlet and the primay use buttons?" she asks "uhh, no i havent" he answers quickly working on doing that and within a few seconds the green light came on they both braced themself for an explosion but nothing "we got it working" he yelled happily "thanks y/n" he smiled happily "your welcome" she giggled they where both quiet and still for a moment before he turned and kissed her cheek "i thought you said we where at work, none of that business newt"she giggled going back to her desk and sorting a few things putting away some the tubes full of chemicals into a small fridge like device and newt put his working setup away into a box for minho to send off when he got back "minho's taking a while" newt sighed "yeah, well he does have to get ours which are special orders anyway, plus get both our drinks froma  whole other place plus you know he'll be stuck in a que for hours waiting for his" y/n laughed "true, you should have this job y/n, your a heck of alot smarted then i am" he laughed "newt, your just as smart as me, it just so happened that here you got tenure first before i did, so im your assisnat, i dont mind newt honest i dont, i just wish we could get a new assisant somtimes, minho annoys me sometimes, but i see why, i am one of the only women here and he doesnt know about... uhh" she explained stoping mid sentence "about what?" newt asked "i was going to say he doesnt know about us but im not really sure there is an us, im still unclear what we are" she answered "oh,uh...im not sure either" he shurged before going over to her and hugging her from behind "but whatever we are, is it okay i get alittle jealous?" he laughed "i supose so, if he got replaced with a sexy science girl i would get pretty jealous too " she giggled they both then laughed before newt lifted her up and sat her on her desk so she was facing him undoing her lab coat revealing her dark blue curve hugging dress his arms around her wasit hers around his neck as he lent forward and they passionatly kissed "no, we have to stop" she said pushing him lightly away "like you said, we're at work" she sighed "your right" he sighed helping her back off the desk just as they heard the familiar sound of minho's car coming back "continue tonight?" he asked "my doors always open, you know that" she giggled and the two went back to there work tiding there stations acting like nothing had happened till minho came back in the room "hey everybody, miss me?" he asked smirking "no" newt sighed "it was much quieter" he sighed "oh come on newt you love me" minho laughed "i just wish y/n would love me" he sighed leaning on y/n's desk again "keep dreaming" y/n told him "i know you will love me someday, heres your lunch y/n" he smiled giving her a bag off food "thanks minho" she sighed "heres yours newt, i had mine in the store so, want me to take all the pakege off while you go take lunch" he explained "yeah thanks minho" newt told him as the two got there stuff and went out to the park just the other side of the university and the two sat under a tree nibbling at their lunch
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