#or even just road safety or construction

[cosmicyeen]

i saw a post recently that was talking about how people won't stop working bad jobs like customer service just because they no longer have the threat of starvation from making no money, and that is a very true statement!

but in that same post they also said that eventually even the worst jobs people will "never wanna do" will eventually be automated, with one of the examples being roadkill pickup.

Which that didnt make sense to me in the context of the larger post, there are absolutely gonna be people who will wanna pick up roadkill. Its quite literally a hobby for some folks.

like, the statement "people are still gonna find fulfilment working "bad jobs" like house cleaning or garbage pickup" is true!

BUT saying it with the caveat of "oh the *real* bad jobs will just be automated" is unrealistic, both because how the hell are you gonna automate something like roadkill pickup?? and because i think some people underestimate just how "bad" a job can be and still be appealing to someone else

this isnt super coherent probably but it's been on my mind since reading that post because it was kinda like "huh i guess a lot of people just dont know about this sorta thing"

[carionto]

When in doubt, duct it

The prevalence of mass printers means that if the design is functional, anything can be built. Humanity boasts the largest orbital shipyards in the known Galaxy, capable of constructing vessels beyond reasonable scope and complexity, which they need to be able to do due to the sheer number of redundant systems, safety features, and the compartmentalized nature of their space craft.

So why is that half of them begin to look cobbled together after a while? Nearly all civilian craft appear unique, every single small military craft has personal modifications reflecting the pilot's and crew's personalities. We've even seen whole engineering teams rip out large sections of their massive Dreadnoughts and replace them with parts from others. One time we even saw them cut off the propulsion system of a smaller Destroyer and just...

plug it under a Capital ship.

Once again, we desperately are trying to understand the nature behind this odd behavior.

"Well, the architects and designers do a fine job, but when the rubber meats the road, or I should say, when you bump into an asteroid for the first time, only then you begin to understand what each ship is like, you know? A good pilot and crew can feel what their ship wants to really be only after you've been on it for a while.

Any ship or station starts off as a blank slate, but after a while it starts to develop a personality. And like any good friend, they take care of you, so you take care of them. Sometimes the lights just aren't right, so you replace them with a different model. Other times the recoil tilts it a little bit to where it makes the life support hiccup, so you gotta add a counterweight, but not just anything, it has to fit the vibe. Then that has it's own little complaints, and it just goes on like that.

As a matter of fact, the oldest ship in the Fleet started off as a Carrier, but over time the crew, without saying a word, just knew it was meant to be a Battleship. A few "surgeries" later and the Jubilant Axolotl added six extra generators and now can't hold a single fighter craft, is always leaking something, and has two of the biggest Rail Cannons we've ever built. She could probably punch a hole through Mars if she overloaded all her generators, but the crew think that that would be the last thing she, and everything within a few hundred thousand kilometers, ever does."

[kiwriteswords]

I Promise You This

Chapter Two: Calls of Guilt Thrown at Me

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: Chronic illness, reader with past abusive relationship, canon-typical violence, canon-typical themes, language, future sexual themes

Rating: Mature for mature themes and future chapters.

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N, the newest and youngest profiler in the BAU, is haunted by her past—an abusive relationship and an illness she keeps hidden from her team. Though skilled in her work, she distances herself emotionally, fearing vulnerability. Aaron Hotchner, her reserved and perceptive boss, begins to notice the cracks in her carefully constructed walls as they navigate high-stakes cases together. Drawn to her resilience, Hotch finds himself increasingly protective of Y/N. As their bond deepens, both must confront their own emotional barriers, leading to an unexpected connection amidst the darkness of their work.

AN: Thanks for the wonderful feedback on the re-write of chapter one! I have received many requests for a taglist, which I originally had for the story back in 2021, but I have updated that as well, and that can be found here.

Masterlist | I Promise You This | Ao3

The Arizona heat was suffocating, even from the safety of the jet. You stepped off, walking side-by-side with Morgan. Years on the job had taught you how to collect yourself and how to compartmentalize the grief. That part had gotten easier with time. The pain, the heaviness of it, would only come when you were alone. Never before.

Rossi and Hotch were the last to disembark. Hotch, as always, took the time to thank the pilot. It was a quiet gesture, but Hotch had always made it clear that everyone mattered, even those behind the scenes.

"You ever wonder when she's going to break?" Rossi's voice was low, a passing observation aimed at Hotch.

"Who?" Hotch’s brow furrowed as he looked at Rossi, caught off guard by the question.

"Y/N." Rossi’s tone carried the weight of experience. "She's only in her twenties, and she's been through enough cases to break anyone. She went from a college classroom to working brutal cases with us. Yet, she hasn't cracked. Not once." He shook his head. “We all have our moments, but her? She’s been thrown into the deep end and hasn’t come up for air.”

Hotch remained silent, taking in the comment. He couldn’t deny that he’d noticed too. The way you held yourself together in the worst of times, the same way he did. But there was something else he didn’t admit to Rossi. He didn’t just notice it—he was concerned.

"She's strong," Hotch replied finally, his voice steady. "She’s proven her skills in the field. What she does off the clock isn’t my concern as long as she can do her job."

Rossi nodded but said nothing more. There was no point in pushing Hotch on a topic he clearly didn’t want to explore.

The drive to the local police department was filled with the usual briefing. The case involved three missing children, all under the age of nine. There was one lead so far, pointing to a possible husband-and-wife duo. The profile suggested the man was dominant, likely controlling the submissive woman. The connection between the children? Local sports. All three were active in the K-12 youth leagues.

Garcia’s voice crackled through the speakerphone as she relayed her findings. “There was a coach—Cliff Hall—recently fired from the youth soccer league. His neighbors reported multiple noise complaints, mostly shouting and what they suspected was violent behavior. Cliff toward his wife, Melinda. No reports of violence from her, though.”

"Do you have the address for the neighbor who reported this?" Morgan asked, pulling the phone closer.

"Yessiree! Laura and William Read, 38 Breeze Road. Two kids, too, just in case you’re wondering."

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan replied, his tone light despite the grim circumstances.

"Garcia, look for any family members or triggers that might’ve set Cliff off recently," Hotch added, brows furrowed in thought.

“On it, boss!” Garcia chirped, her optimism never wavering, even in the darkest cases.

Hotch assigned the team their tasks: Morgan and JJ to the Read family’s home, Rossi and Reid to the youth sports center to dig deeper into Cliff’s dismissal. Then, unexpectedly, he turned to you.

“Y/N, you’re with me. We’ll talk to the parents.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the change in routine. Usually, JJ handled these delicate conversations with grieving families. But you nodded, keeping your surprise hidden. “Of course, sir.”

As you gathered your files, you couldn’t shake the question. Why had he chosen you this time? Your curiosity got the better of you as you followed Hotch to the door. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking... why me? JJ’s usually the one who handles these kinds of cases."

Hotch paused, his tall frame towering over you. His dark eyes softened slightly as he looked down at you. “Y/N, you have a unique ability to balance compassion with professionalism. These parents are hanging by a thread. They need someone who can handle that. And I trust you can.”

You nodded, taken aback by the rare compliment. Hotch wasn’t one to hand out praise easily, and it left you feeling the weight of the responsibility he was placing on your shoulders.

“I won’t let you down,” you said, squaring your shoulders.

He gave a brief nod. “I know you won’t.”

The interviews were grueling. The parents, as expected, were devastated. They confirmed the connection between their children and Cliff Hall, the soccer coach. The moment that stuck with you was when the father of one of the missing children revealed a heartbreaking detail: Cliff’s own son had died of a terminal illness earlier in the year. A potential stressor.

Hotch stepped out of the room, taking a phone call while you continued the interview. You absorbed the father’s words, feeling the pieces fall into place. When Hotch returned, his expression confirmed he had received the same news.

“Cliff’s son passed away earlier this year. The timing fits,” you said, glancing at Hotch.

“Yes. We need to wrap this up and regroup,” Hotch replied, his tone tight.

Garcia and the team worked tirelessly to track down the Halls, leading to Melinda’s arrest. The woman now sat in the interrogation room, her face bruised but wearing a smug expression that made your blood boil.

Hotch and Emily stood next to you, discussing their plan to go in for a good-cop, bad-cop routine. You exhaled a shaky breath, something tugging at you as you watched Melinda through the one-way glass.

“I want to talk to her,” you said suddenly, your voice steady but firm.

Both agents turned to you, surprise flickering in their eyes. You weren’t known for interrogations, but Hotch seemed to recognize something in your tone. He gave a brief nod. “If you think you’re ready, go ahead.”

You met his gaze. “I’m ready.”

As you walked into the room, Melinda barely looked up. She scoffed at the sight of you, clearly unimpressed by your smaller frame. “They sent the rookie in, huh?” she sneered.

You ignored her comment, circling the table. “When’s enough, enough, Melinda?” Your voice was low, controlled.

Melinda shifted, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again.

“I know what it’s like to be behind the hand of a man who controls you,” you said, your tone sharp. “I was like you once. But I got out before more heartache turned me into a monster.”

The smugness on Melinda’s face faltered. She wasn’t expecting this.

“I know what it feels like to think the only person who will ever touch you, the only person who will ever want you, is the one who hurts you the most,” you continued, voice unwavering. “But you let it get this far. And now, children are suffering because of it.”

From behind the glass, Hotch watched, his brows furrowed. Emily glanced up at him, surprised.

“Did you know about this?” she asked quietly.

Hotch shook his head, his eyes still fixed on you. “No.”

You walked out of the interrogation room, emotionally drained but victorious. You had gotten the information needed to find Cliff, and the children were rescued, unharmed.

As you packed up your things at the police station, you hoped no one would ask about what you revealed during the interrogation. You didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t something you ever thought you’d have to explain on the job.

But of course, Hotch had questions. You noticed him standing over you as you zipped up your bag.

“Agent Y/L/N, a word?” His tone was calm but authoritative.

You followed him into an empty office, wondering what this was about.

Hotch shut the door and turned to face you, his expression unreadable. “I don’t condone my agents lying to get the job done.”

You stared at him, disbelief and anger bubbling up inside you. “Excuse me?”

“That story you told Melinda—you lied. That could’ve cost us credibility.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. “You think I lied?” Your voice was ice cold. “I didn’t lie, Hotch. Everything I told her was the truth.”

Hotch’s expression shifted, realization dawning on him. “There’s nothing in your file about this—”

“Because it doesn’t belong in my file,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “Just because there’s no documentation doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And I used it to get through to her, to save those kids. If you have a problem with that, then that’s on you.”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before walking out, leaving him standing there, stunned.

Hotch stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of his mistake. He hadn’t considered the possibility that someone as strong as you could’ve endured something like that. And now, he felt not only guilty but angry—angry that someone had ever hurt you in such a way.

Stupid, he thought to himself. Stupid.

He heard the door to the station slam shut, and he knew it was you. Balling his fists, he let out a shaky breath, feeling something tug at him, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

Tag List: @jencole214 @indiatuck @eg-dr3amer3 @crispy-croke @esposadomd @genevieve-blr @mdanon027

[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: Beetle Knights

(art is of the Dung Beetle Knight, from Kingdom Death: Monster, from which this creature draws inspiration)

Also known in some circles as the Liegeon, Fauxladins, and most commonly Chevaliars, Beetle Knights are enormous insects which have, aided by magic-rich diets, evolved over countless years to fall into an incredibly strange niche in which they serve as guardians and allies to more intelligent creatures in order to hunt greater prey. That their human shape allows them to avoid scrutiny from true monster hunters is, itself, a benefit.

On their own, Beetle Knights are relatively dim creatures guided almost entirely by supernaturally potent instincts. They spend the majority of their lives wandering the world, following the roads and paths set by the races of man and elf from settlement to settlement as they slay and devour monsters and bandits they encounter, giving off the illusion of a reclusive, wandering knight keeping the roads safe. Their humanoid but elaborate appearance causes unquestioning townsfolk to mistake them for mercenaries, kingdom guards, and especially adventurers, which is their true goal; to be directed at a threat which requires a heavier hand than most civilians are capable of mustering, for it is these greater beasts on which the Beetle Knights prefer to feed.

Though fully capable of hunting down their own food in the wild, Beetle Knights have grown to enjoy the safety and comfort offered by living alongside humans, especially when it becomes time to reproduce. During breeding season, Beetle Knights require an enormous amount of food both for them and their young and thus must hunt greater prey with more magical energy within. To do so, the parents couple only briefly before going their separate ways and proceeding to infiltrate (or get accidentally brought into) existing adventuring groups as mysterious and stoic hirelings, secreting powerful mind-bending pheromones which cause these parties to behave more recklessly and require little prompting to go hunting dangerous prey. These pheromones also have an unusual effect on the mind of any nearby humanoid, causing them to rationalize or fully ignore their 'new hires' more inhuman traits, going so far as to interpret their chittering vocalizations (which already sound distressingly close to human speech) as motivating--if terse--speeches to drive them ever forward towards their goal. Most 'hosts' to a Beetle Knight rarely realize just what they've been traveling with the last few weeks until they part ways, the effects of the pheromones fade, and the adventuring party realizes that their 'hireling' didn't actually take any coin or gems in payment.

The only payment they require is food. Beetle Knights feed readily on almost anything they slay, using any lulls in adventuring to gorge themselves at every opportunity. Their inordinately powerful jaws can crush iron, to say nothing of bone, and their wandering habits leave them little room to be picky. They will even consume the equipment of their fallen foes and the iron alloys found in destroyed Constructs, ferrous metals recycled by their magic digestive system to reinforce their carapaces and mix with the resinous secretions they use to form their weapons and nests. Unattended magic items are consumed ravenously, the magic extracted from these items and used to fuel the growth of their young; their habit of eating overlooked loot is what normally brings them into conflict with their 'host' parties, which rarely ends well for the human adventurers.

Beetle Knights grow to be anywhere from 6 to 8 feet tall, and weigh around 300 pounds. Individual Knights can live upwards to 10 years, but most die much sooner through combat.

Beetle Knight CR 8 Neutral Medium Magical Beast Init +1 Senses: Darkvision 80ft, Scent, low-light vision, Perception +12 Aura: Pheromones (60ft, DC 19) ------ Defenses ------

AC: 24; touch 15; flat-footed 24 (+1 Dex, +10 natural, +4 deflection) HP: 100 (10d10+40) Fort +11 Ref +8 Will +6 Defensive Abilities: Ferocity, Chitin Plate; DR: 5/Magic and piercing; Immune: disease, poison, charms and compulsions. ------ Offense ------ Speed: 30ft, climb 20ft, fly 20ft (poor) Melee: +1 Resin Longsword +16/+11 (1d8+6/19-20), bite +15 (1d8+5), slam +10 (1d6+2); OR bite +15 (1d8+5), two slams +15 (1d6+5 plus grab) Special Attacks: Crushing Jaws, Pounce, Rend (2 slams, 1d6+7) ----- Statistics ----- Str 20, Dex 13, Con 18, Int 3, Wis 16, Cha 6 Base Atk +10; CMB +15 (+19 when Repositioning or Disarming); CMD 26 (30 vs Reposition and Disarming) Feats: Dirty Fighting, Improved Disarm, Improved Reposition, Greater Disarm, Greater Reposition Skills: Climb +17, Disguise +4, Fly +12, Perception +13; Racial Modifiers: +10 to Disguise checks to appear as a humanoid knight Languages: Common plus one local language (cannot speak). SQ: Resin Equipment, Pheromones ------ Ecology ------ Environment: Any temperate land Organization: Single, pair, or adventuring party (1~2 plus 3~4 travelers between 1st and 10th level) Treasure: Standard (+1 Longsword, magic and mundane items kept as a snack, monster parts, other treasure)

------

Combat: Beetle Knights fight with a startling amount of tactical knowhow. If fighting alongside a party, they attempt to maneuver opponents to allow any allies present to flank and move enemies into the line of fire of allies with reposition maneuvers. They will also work to prevent enemies from drawing too close to more fragile allies, and disarm enemies with dangerous weapons. If alone, it will attempt to disarm enemies whose weapons pierce its DR first, then focus on one enemy at a time until each are dead or have fled.

Morale: When part of a party, Beetle Knights fight fiercely and without fear of death, instinctually assured that their allies will at least attempt to keep them alive (whether or not this is truly the case). If alone, Beetle Knights flee when brought below 30 HP. In either case, the Knights will play dead at 0 HP or below and drag themselves to a safe location to recover.

------ Special Abilities ------

Chitin Plate (Ex/Su): The extremely tough shell of a Beetle Knight is woven with iron and hardened by consumed magical power. It is part of its body and thus does not impede its movement and cannot be sundered or broken. If it is struck with a targeted Dispel Magic (dispel check DC 21) or enters an Antimagic Field or similar, it loses its deflection bonus to its AC and its Damage Reduction for 1d4+1 rounds (or until it leaves the Antimagic Field).

Crushing Mandibles (Ex): A Beetle Knight's complex jaws can rip apart almost anything. Its bite attack is always treated as a primary natural attack, and ignores the first 5 points of hardness and/or Damage Reduction of any object or creature it encounters.

Pheromones (Su): A Beetle Knight produces a subtle mist of magical pheromones that it fans in every direction with subtle movement of its wings. Creatures breathing in these pheromones must make a DC 19 Fortitude save; those who fail see the Knight as a human (or whatever humanoid creature is most common to this area), parse its vocalizations as intelligible speech relevant to the current situation, and rationalize or ignore any strange behavior or blatantly inhuman actions it takes. It does not need to make Disguise checks to hide its nature against creatures under the effects of its pheromones. These effects last for 24 hours, unless a creature (typically its adventuring party) has spent a continuous 24 hours around the beetle, at which point the pheromones do not leave their system until one week has passed. A creatures who succeed their saving throw against the pheromones must make a new save each minute they spend in the aura.

Resin Equipment (Ex/Su): A Beetle Knight can weave digested magic and metal into its own resinous secretions, creating weaponry. With 2 hours of work, the Knight can create a resinous version of any simple melee weapon. With 6 hours of work, it can instead create a longsword or greatsword. The Knights prefer one-handed weapons, allowing them to deliver secondary slam attacks, and they are considered proficient with any resin weapon they make.

Any weapon created by a Beetle Knight is treated as a steel version of that weapon with a +1 enchantment bonus. Unless magically compelled to do so, they will only ever make weapons for themselves, and will consume damaged or broken ones to remake them. Beetles tend to only have enough resin to make three weapons a week.

------

Champion Beetles are Knights who, by consuming large quantities of magical foods from prosperous host parties and having been resurrected via magic at least once, undergo a second metamorphosis which takes a two weeks to finish, emerging from a gilded cocoon as a golden warrior with greater abilities than their common kin. Champion Beetles gain between 4 and 6 additional racial Hit Dice and typically favor taking feats which allow them greater proficiency with more combat maneuvers, usually Dirty Trick, Trip, or Sunder. In addition, they gain the following abilities:

Resistance 10 to one element, Resistance 5 to two other elements, typically the most common forms of elemental damage they've encountered on their journeys.

Increased DR from 5 to 10/Magic and Piercing.

+2 to their natural AC and +2 to their deflection bonus.

Their Resin Weapons gain an additional +1 enhancement bonus.

Increase each of their mental ability scores by 2.

Fast Healing 1.

Champion Beetles can live upwards to 40 years. There is a 10% chance that the larvae of Champion Beetles hatch with the Advanced simple template and 1d3 of the above abilities selected at random.

[britt-kageryuu]

While many have thrown in their ideas about how truly scary the Rise Boys can be, I want to toss about my thoughts.

We know if the boys were ever pushed to actually putting in the effort, we could only scratch the surface of ideas. Like all the different Kraang futures people create. Not to mention the headcanons of what they would be like fully trained under Draxums original plans.

First on the offensive side.

Leo with his portals alone is a force to be afraid of, if someone fired a missile or nuke, he could just send it right back with a portal. Maybe if he just needed the coordinates he could send forces right into the center of enemy headquarters, and capture them.

Donnie would be feared not just for his mystics/ninpo creating any weapon he can think of, but he can upgrade ally weapons and vehicles to be tougher and better than their enemy could ever get.

Mikey if fully trained in Mystics (and hopefully without the rapid aging) is probably very devastating, but add in his chains to throw missiles and vehicles back, maybe a building or ship, and it just escalates from there.

Raph with his Ninpo is a one turtle army of tanks that can cause massive damage. I don't know if he could catch a missile before it explodes, but if possible there you go. Now if he was able to be bulletproof with his constructs, he would be near undefeatable.

On the defensive/support side.

Leo can easily get hostages/prisoners out easily (as long as there's no anti mystic stuff involved), not to mention people trapped in the rubble that isn't fully safe to move. If you want to throw in medic Leo, even as just a field medic, he would be invaluable, otherwise he can quickly get support in and out safely.

Donnie could easily build advanced medical devices, medicine, and armor. Not to mention tossing out a temporary ninpo medical device to help in the field. He's shown to make hard light shields to protect, and act as a road block, and he just wants to help how ever he can. Even if it's just a modified Roomba Army.

Mikey could definitely learn defensive and healing Mystics, and have him easily pull a big thing to act as a barrier. He would probably be good at quick hit and run tactics, and putting up secret signs with graffiti to point to safety.

Raph again one turtle army, and Stupidly strong, so easy quick defensive cover. Plus he can carry alot of people to safety whether on his shell or in his arms.

I'm kinda running out of points to make, but the other support they can give is teaching others how to defend themselves, and how to make these upgrades, or other improvements.

Take from this what you will, the Rise Turtles are pretty scary when you put things into perspective. And that's not even mentioning throwing Splinter into the whole scenario, and many other factors!

[starillusion13]

I Know it's weird to ask erm.... but Can you pleaseeee do the four seasons of love one with Yunho version because I want to imagine him in that fic and am currently obsessssssed with YUNHO. I know I can read the fic inserting his name but stilll PLEASE IF YOU CAN DO IT.

FOUR SEASONS OF LOVE (Yunho ver.)

Pairing: Ateez! Yunho × f! reader

Genre: Slight angst, Fluff, Slice of life

Warning: self doubt, hints of hating and willing to end life.But our big baby is there to comfort you and show that life is worth to you when you are with right person. A lot of comfort through the images of seasons. You all are precious remember it.

W.C: 4.2k+

Network: @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

A/n: don't accuse me for plagiarism coz if you have read this fic before then you must have read the Chanyeol ver.This plot is basically inspired from his solo songs but I had literally Yunho on my mind for this but as I had a request for Chanyeol oneshot so I used this. Thanks to the anon for making me post it.

Many thoughts storming through your mind. Your mind swirling like a cyclone, heart clenching and hands going numb. Nobody wants you, no one even cares for your existence. Maybe they are right that your parents left you at the orphanage because you are unwanted. Why? You never hurt anyone or being a threat to anyone. The only person you have your faiths and trust on has suddenly turned their back to you. You never thought that you have to witness a day like this too after being treated like a shit all these years. Was it not enough for you already?

"Why should I live now?"

Tilting your head back and closing the eyes, you let the raindrops fall on your face directly. Hairs are already drenched and sticking to your forehead and neck, not even caring to move the strands falling on your eyes. Numb hands growing cold under the heavy rain, eyes swollen with crying but people might mistake your eyes are red due to rain. Each falling drop getting mixed with your tears rolling down. Tears of pain? Tears of loneliness? Tears of betrayal? No. Tears of hope.

"Why can't everyone be happy?"

You must be right. Not everyone deserves to be treated as someone's priority. Someone has to feel the pain to let others be happy. You lightly chuckle on your own thoughts. Like always you have to be the sacrifice. Your feet move on its own and now you are standing in the middle of the road surrounded by abandoned constructed buildings. At least there are no people here to judge your every moves.

Unknowingly, you spread your arms and head still facing the sky but with a little smile adorning your face.

"Can I fly alone?"

Its past safety hours at night and you are getting soaked in rain in an empty street and thinking about flying. Are you a child? Maybe only if you can be a child and someone would care about you and take you in their arms and whisper Its okay. I'm here for you.. You want someone to care for you, someone to give you the warmth you crave in your life. This cold rainy night is befriending your nightmares to make you alone, to make you feel...you are not good for anyone.

"Such a bad girl.”

Your eyes shot open on hearing the voice. Rather a very familiar teasing voice you must say. You don't even care to look in the direction to know who the person is but let the raindrops pierce your eyes directly, making you to squint on the effect.

"If you are trying to be blind then I have some better options for you to try."

Better option? Death. You don't see any will to live your life. What life? To be an extra character in everyone's story. Every individual on this planet has their own story but you must believe that you are just the extra one in their story to make give them more spotlight by increasing the sea of people.

"Why are you here?"

"Well, I should have asked you the same, little angel."

Little angel. If only you could have been one then you would have done everything possible to be happy. Just be happy and away from these people who blame you for everything. You are a bad luck to everyone.

Bringing your hands to yourself, eyes fixed on the broken wooden board hanging from the wall of a building to your front. Your back still facing the person but you can feel the stares burning on you.

"I'm not in a mood for your jokes."

"I'm asking you a question not joking. This is not your colony and also not mine but the complex there is mine and I come here often. So, what brings you here?"

"Can't you just leave and let me be alone for once?"

Silence. That's what you got in return. Like others, he also left. Your heart clenched on the thought and your shaking hands turned into fists by your side.

Why are you feeling like this? Its not like you were appreciating his presence, or were you? At least him teasing you whole day somewhat makes you feel that someone care to spend a little bit of their time to talk to you....... To tease you maybe. With hope, hope? You turn around slowly, gaze following how each drop hitting the ground and shattering into tiny droplets. Just like your hopes to see him behind will shatter soon into pieces of disappointment, loneliness and pain.

"Yunho?..”

He is still there, hands in the pocket of his hoodie and eyes boring onto your figure. You feel a bit of joy but for what, just to see him standing there? Like the way an angry mother scolding her child for being out so late. Your shocked eyes contacting with the daring eyes of his challenging self as if it's challenging you to look away.

“You are still here.....I thought-“

"You thought like everyone else I will also leave you alone here." His tone is monotonous, not even hinting any sort of emotions behind it, neither of caring nor even of hatred.

You nod your head obliviously.

He 'tsch' and shakes his head, footsteps approach you. You try to avoid the closeness, panicking you are looking everywhere to just run away from him. But deep down, you want to stay close to him, to hear his teasing voice and to make you annoyed until you glare at him and he will return you a playful wink. At least, he never made you feel alone or ever hurt you.

"Why?"

Why? It's obvious because am not a one to waste your precious time on. You want to scream this on his face but you feel your throat becomes heavy with a lump stuck inside. You are about to break down because you can't take this feeling that someone is waiting to hear your response. Caring for you.

"Please..go away...if you are here to tease me later for this then please go away."

"Do I hurt you?"

"Huh?"

"Do I hurt you with my teasing?"

"I d-don't know." No.

“Do I make you uncomfortable when am around you?"

No.

He paused but your lost eyes staring at him made him continue. "Do I burden you?"

No.

You want to scream but you can't utter a single world but gazing up at him with lost swollen eyes. His warm hands cupped your cheeks. Why are his hands warm and yours cold? Oh, God has a priority.

He is also drenched but not like you for almost over an hour. His few portions of the clothing are soaked but his hairs are getting wet fully, his umbrella lying upside-down at the side of the street. Why is he getting wet despite having an umbrella?

"Do you hate me?"

No? Yes? Do you? Well, you really didn't think of him like this way before. Do you really want him to go away? You never felt hurt because of him. Rather you enjoy his company. You don't know whether it's bad or not but you love his presence. His presence is the last thing that can burden you. When everyone is turning their back to you, he is the only one looking at you with mischievousness of course.

"Yunho...don't ask me this." Your fingers tightly hold his wrists but you are keeping his hands close to you, leaning to his touch more. Seeking the comfort in his warmth, you are feeling safe.

"Why?"

"I, myself don't know how to respond you."

The rain has stopped but the tears still keeping your eyes wet.

"Y/N, will you let me hold you like this forever? I can't see you broken like this anymore. You don't know how much it hurts me whenever I see you crying."

"What are you saying?"

“Everyone breaks you down but you try to stay strong. You put on a fake smile just to lie to yourself that you are fine. But I want to see the real you.”

“I-n-no...I'm fine."

"Really? Crying alone in the middle of the street under the heavy rain and I have to believe that you are fine like always."

"Why are you being like this Yunho? I hate when people show me comfort out of pity. I am used to being alone like this so just leave me and go away."

No, please don't go. You try to move away his hand but he doesn't budge and his cold eyes staring deep in your orbs as if it can read the hidden truth behind those tears. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears which are rolling down. Why are you crying? He is not doing anything to you.

"This is why I never approached you to show my care. I always see you getting hate from the ones you have trusted and that's why I wanted to be someone to you whom you will have some different kind of feelings. I didn't want you to see me as others who is just pitying you but I wanted you to see me treating you like a regular person.”

"Different kind of feelings?"

He squeezes your cheeks and smiles at your silly face. Those slight dimples occurring in the end of his smile on the cheeks, your hands move upward to touch them and you can feel him lean to your touch and closing his eyes for a moment.

"Yes, puffer fish. Someone approaching you like you are a loner to their eyes and then suddenly turning their back to you when you actually started to lean on them. I never wanted that to happen between us. I wanted you to see me differently from others. So, I started to tease you and you have to agree that sometimes I have really made you laugh. Also, your glares, you think you look so angry and scary but you just look silly."

"Yaaa." You slap his arms and his dimples deepen when he smiles wider which brings a little smile on your lips.

And this is Yunho. The tease who doesn't leave a single chance to annoy you even at this moment when you are so vulnerable and confused with your feelings. But what is the meaning of different kind of feelings?

"I wanted you to see me as an annoying person who can make you angry, frustrated, getting on your nerves so you make silly faces at me when am too much overbearing and also laugh with me on my jokes. But-"

His fingers tracing your cheekbones and big doe eyes staring at your swollen eyes.

"But?" your voice is like a whisper but he can still hear you.

"But I always try to make you forget others, how they mistreat you, how they ignore you, how they hurt you. I don't want to see you cry over them. I want to see you smiling Y/N."

"Why are you doing this, Yunho?"

You are suddenly being held in a big warm hug, him holding you tightly as if you might blow away with the light breeze blowing after the heavy rain. Your body shivers due to the weather but his warm hug feels so comfortable and you wrap your arms around his big frame. Can you provide him the same warmth back?

"I can't see you like this Y/N. Please let me be a part of your life. Please."

Your body again shivers to the wind and he retreats from the hug. A part of your life? Which life? The one you don't even know what is the use of its existence where everyone knows just to hurt you and ignore you.

“Y/N?"

"Hmmm...”

"Let's go home. You will catch cold like this."

"I don't want to go home."

Why? The place where you feel secure, away from all the judging eyes but suffocating yourself with the thousand thoughts within those four walls of your apartment.

He suddenly picks you up in his arms, your shocked face getting a chuckle and wide smile from him.

"What are you doing? Put me down."

"Well, if you don't go by your own then l'm taking you like this."

"Yaaa put me down. You don't even know my place and if I start to shout right now, you will really be accused for kidnapping.”

"Hm that's right but I can say that someone was trying to end her life and I am just being her saviour. Also, I'm taking you to my place so please keep quiet and let's go before you really die of this cold."

Die? Yes, but will you be really okay after that?

"No. I will not go with you.?

"And I'm not leaving you here."

"Yunho...”

“Please Y/N.” His creased forehead and serious look urging you to agree with him.

You nod but still your thoughts are running as why you are trusting him so much. If tomorrow like others he will also leave you.Then? He will act as a stranger to you. He will avoid you as if today never happened between you two. His teasing will stop and he will hate you because he has seen you vulnerable so many times. You have cried in front of him many times but why you always show this side to him even when you had a boyfriend. Well, that shit was only there for you for a bet and just left you alone in the darkness when you were taking things too seriously according to him. How foolish of you! You thought he was the perfect one.

But this feeling being in Yunho’s arms and feeling safe and having the warm comfort, you never had this with your boyfriend and this thought is really disturbing you.

"Yunho...” He looks down at you when he enters the complex building to make his way towards the elevator. "Why?"

"What?"

"Are you really caring for me because we are.....we know each other?"

Pressing the twelfth floor by his elbow, he nods to himself.

"Because you are my four seasons of love."

"Huh?" Your confused face only got a tight smile from him. You ask him again but he didn't say anything instead waiting for the floor. You thanked mentally that other people didn't get in and see you like this even when you tried to make him put you down but his teasing was the only thing keeping you distracted. Ding! You have arrived to the floor.

He puts you down but still holding your one hand, the other one unlocking the door. With a pull, he lets you inside the apartment and locking the door behind. Your eyes taking in the new environment, each and every piece of decoration screaming richness, looking around the way, your eyes caught a photo frame of a family picture. You didn't notice when he left you there wandering on your own, returns with a towel in his hand.

"Is that your family?"

"Yes. That's our last picture which we clicked when I was in middle school.”

Oh! Suddenly you feel him put the towel on your head and starts rubbing the scalp and hair. You try to stop him and insist that you can do it yourself but he doesn't budge and continues. After having satisfied with your somewhat dried hairs, he gives you a pair of spare clothes to change into but your hesitating self is not willing to do it in someone's apartment.

"Are you really going to stand here in these clothes?It's already raining again and I don't think it will be nice for you to go at this hour. I will not let you go even if you put your rebellious acts."

"But I can wait until it stops raining.”

"You will let your clothes get dry on you? No way, I don't want someone to fall sick in my place.”

"Its okay."

"Do you want me to change your clothes or what?"

"Yaaa Yunho."

You hit his arm earning a loud laugh from him and he pat your cheeks directing you to his bedroom to use the personal bathroom and he will use the other one. After getting freshen up, when you make your way towards the living room, he is standing by the wide glass window showing the blurry city view behind the window because of raindrops hitting the glass.

"What are you doing there?"

He is in black t-shirt with matching trousers and hairs damp after shower and you in similar grey set but of his size. He turns around and scans your form which makes you a bit self-conscious. And man, he suddenly starts laughing holding his stomach which brings a frown on your face.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You look so funny in my clothes. Yo-you look like a kitten got dumped under a pile of clothes.”

You go beside him to take a peek at outside because you love to watch such views in rainy days. You shoot him a glare when he pinches your cheek between his laugh.

"It's not my fault that you are literally a giraffe.”

If there was no rain then the city might look so silent from up here, right? If I have lived somewhere like this, I would have got a better life, right?

You feel arms wrap around from your back and him resting his chin on top of your head. Your stiff body and lost eyes watching the reflection of yours on the blurry window that how much height difference you both have.

"I love you, Y/N."

Love you? Is he teasing you again? If yes or if no, in both the cases, he should not love you because, you don't want him to turn his back too when he will be bored of you. You don't want to lose him too.

"Don't. You should not love me. One day you will also get tired of me and leave me broken. So, it's better how we are now with each other. Like just...friends."

“Don't you want to hear my answers to your question?"

"Which one?"

"Why you are my four seasons of love?"

"Hm...Tell me.” Your fingers tracing some patterns on the glass against each raindrop hitting the frame.

“Tell me the sequence of seasons."

"Ummm Spring Summer Fall Winter?"

"Yup. I love you differently in every four seasons so I cant ever get tired to love you."

"What?"

"Let's start with spring. The season of love, the blooming start of every individual, every life and every relationship. We can start our first love in the spring when there will be bright sunlight with birds chirping as if a melody playing for our bond. Holding hands under the cherry blossom while knowing each other for the first time. The joy, love and beginning of our life will be in this season. Every year this season will be the start to our love from the beginning."

"Summer?"

"Summer is the season of explore, when our love will take the centre of the stage. The clear sky with blazing sun and warm breeze hitting our skin making us feel to be loved by each other. A warm love between us where we can explore into each other's depth like the way the whole world gets explored by the bright sunlight. We will travel together, explore the life and our love. The bond between us can be taken to a different stage where the only spotlight will be on our romance."

"Fall? Will our love fall here?"

"No. The beginning of fall is with rainy days when we can have our breakdowns. Don't think it as fall, see it as autumn. We can show our vulnerable selves towards each other without any hesitation. The grey clouds making the atmosphere dark and gloomy, the falling leaves from the living trees making it seem like a dead. Our relationship should show all its fault in front of our eyes. No one is perfect but our imperfectness makes each one of us unique and an individual to stand out otherwise we all would have considered same. We can cry with the rain, we can fail in our life but we will again stand on our feet the next day holding each other.”

"Winter?…….”

You can feel him nuzzling his nose into your damp hairs inhaling his shampoo, a smile ghosting over his face. Your one hand still busy on the glass while the other one takes a hold of his hand around you. A wave of comfort and warmth spreading over your body. You can sense yourself being held in safe hands, protected from this whole cruel world and him describing you why you should let him to love you. But winter, the cold environment when every relationship drifts apart because of the numbness in their bond. Will it happen to you too?

“Winter. Well, the season of festive. The most romantic season when we can make more love with each other, we will support our decisions, will spend time together. When the whole world will be under the thick cold white blanket of snow, we will find the warmth in each other. The season when we can share our most hidden secrets and light up mysteries hidden in the cold darkness of our life. We will solve our problems and make love with joy in the festivals like Christmas eve and new year. We can also have one more thing."

"One more thing?"

He turns you around, caging your body between his warm frame and cold window frame. His hands resting beside each side of your face. His big doe eyes watching your every reaction on the face with a sly smile resting on his face and his puffy cheeks again making an appearance. Your hands on the window space keeping your balance leaning backward due to his close proximity. He leans forward to whisper in your ears.

"Winter is also known as the cuffing season. Maybe, we can plan our future in some other ways."

Your big round shock eyes earn a wide smirk on his face. He laughs when you hit his arms and try to move away but he holds you in the place with a soft look and an admiration in his eyes. As if you are the most precious aspect of his life which is resting in front of his eyes.

"Let me love you, Y/N.”

"Yunho. What if I don't deserve you?"

"We don't know ourselves what we deserve or not but we can give chances until we lose hope on everything. And I don't want you to lose hope on me. Please don't leave me.”

Leave him? This is the first time, someone is asking you not to leave them and you are sure you are not going to do the same thing like others did to you. With a last glance on his face, you hug him catching him off guard but he quickly returns you the hug. His cologne hitting your nose strongly and a spell of hope surrounding you both. His heart beating against your ears bringing a melody of love and your heart matching the beats. Your fingers curling to grab his t-shirt in your tight fist. Tears rolling down your cheeks and his hands moving up and down in your back to soothe your nerves with overwhelming feelings.

“Thank you, Yunho. I love you."

"I love you more angel.”

He pulls you away to press a soft kiss on your temple, on your eyes, on the tip of your nose and then pauses. Your heart racing with every kiss from his warm lips. With your closed eyes, you nod to him.

He closes the distance between your lips. Holding the back of your head and the other resting on your cheeks, he deepens the kiss. A passionate kiss for a blooming love. This is a perfect kiss like a dance, a symphony of lips and chance for a new beginning. A moment where time stands still and all the world is hushed and still. The outside loud cold rain is blocked by the window pane for the silent warm love inside. Only lips, no tongue, no other skin as if only the lips can swallow each other to protect them in a cage.

Breaking apart from the kiss, his forehead rest against yours and he presses a soft kiss on your nose. A genuine smile filled with joy dancing on your lips and he smiles back to you. Fingers wiping the fallen tears which are drying on your cheeks.

"I love to see you smile when it is raining."

"I love to see your soft puffy cheeks when you smile."

"And my teasings?"

"Yunho....” you whine on his ask.

"You will always be my four seasons of love."

Standing close to each other, in a warm embrace of love and the cold rain making the whole city gloomy except where you both found each other's happiness and love. Each drop of your loneliness, pain and disappointment is breaking down into love, joy and hope.

Your smile is the umbrella for you under the rain and the sound of falling rain is the rhythm to your life and he is the sunshine to make you dance in the rain. Yes, you are his four seasons of love and. And he to you?

"And,You will be my sunshine in every season."

Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Please do me favor and reblog it🙂.

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[alpaca-clouds]

Cars are just not very economic

I just had this discussion with someone and I just kinda feel the need to talk about it here, because it is closely related to the entire Solarpunk thing.

If you look at it from a purely economic point of view, cars are just not a very efficient way of transport.

Now, this argument has been made to death, really. And literally economists have been arguing about this for literal decades. Again, I was discussing it and looked up sources - and I found sources going back to the 70s. So, yeah, this has been discussed for at least half a century.

But... yeah. Speaking from an economic point of view rails are most economic, followed by busses. Only then there is the cars. (No data on water transport and air transport is a bit more complicated from this point of view.)

Now, why is this?

Roads are all in all more expensive than rails, especially in maintenance. If you look into construction costs, you will find kinda contradictory information on this. But per kilometer costs a kilometer of rail is about equivalent to a kilometer of a four-lane highway to construct. But while both need maintenance, usually roads need more of it. Because the wear and tear on a road is harsher than on a rail (due to more friction and just the fact that concrete is just not a very durable material compared to metal). Admittedly: High speed rail does push both construction and maintanance costs for railways up a good notch, making it more comparable to a seven lane highway. Mostly because of safety concerns.

While trains are more expensive than cars, they usually will be longer in use than a car and will drive many more kilometers during this time. Part of this is also, of course, that while trains are in use for hours each day, most cars spend the most of their life just standing in garages and parking lots. While the average car will get retired after about 150 000 to 200 000 miles, the average locomotive will last 1 000 000 miles.

This comes even more into focus, when you take into consideration how many more passangers or haul the average car will transport during those 1m miles. A single train car can carry up to 150 passangers - and often during rush hours trains will carry about 800 to 1000 passengers at once. While a car will carry often only one or two people at once.

Additionally obviously car infrastructure takes up much more space. Even if we are talking about countries with not as crazy "minimum parking area" restrictions as the USA. Cars need a lot more space than a train or even bus would ever need. And this space also carries costs with it.

And in the end we obviously still do have all the kind of costs that comes from the environmental and health impact of cars. Be it the air pollution, the water polution, and the fallout from having those concrete deserts the cars need in their infrastructure. And to this you can STILL add costs from everything having to deal with accidents and the like.

But yeah... Cars are just economically not very efficient.

So, even if you just cared about the fucking money... Investing in trains and public transport is actually a way better use of that money, than investing in cars.

[courtingchaos]

At the End of the World

Kas!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: Don’t read too much into this. It struck me late and fast and now we’re here.

Warnings: Blood drinking

18+ NSFW No Minors

Another late night closing with just you and two other employees and all of Hawkins at the doorstep to Melvalds. The deeper fissures in the town still sat open but the government had shown up with all sorts of machines and now things could be delivered again and here you were, at work. At the end of the world.

Your keys jingle against the door and you wave off your coworkers who walk down the sidewalk ahead of you. The lock sticks sometimes and you’re left to struggle until you can yank your key ring free. A curse and a kick at the stack of cardboard you need to toss, you shove your hand into your purse to make sure you didn’t forget your wallet again. The main street stays lit by giant floodlights, the distant sound of road work and construction coming in with the late evening breeze. It’s cold now when the sun sets, October turning the weather and the leaves all the same like the earth hadn’t been split open just 5 months ago. You catch a whiff of a bonfire sprinkled on the back of the wind and for a moment you can pretend that everything is okay, that it’s all normal again.

10 pm and it’s later than anything in town stays open, Melvalds and the grocery store being the exception nowadays. Food and pharmacy to keep everyone afloat and stationary, locked in place by faceless government officials who tell you it’s for your own safety. For everyone’s safety.

You shake your head to clear it though, unwilling to linger on your pessimism any longer tonight. A long day full of half smiles and constant running back and forth to pull apart another pallet of Things Everyone Needs. Your room at your parents house, the one you’d moved back into after everything went to shit, calls to you from the cracked sidewalk and you hustle faster to toss your garbage and get to your car. The water mains have finally been repaired so you know you can actually look forward to a consistent hot shower tonight, can practically feel the beating of the water against your back.

You beeline for the alleyway so you can toss the empty cardboard, no thought given to a darkened path. Hawkins had been under curfew since the feds rolled in and with main street lit up you hadn’t worried about taking out the trash on your own in a while. You have to set the box down to to flip open the lid and that’s when you hear it. A muffled breathing from behind dumpster number two, something wet and ragged, something that makes you still completely. It’s human that’s for sure, heavy and big by the sound of it and you start yelling at yourself silently, cursing your placidity.

You take a single step back when you see a head rock into view near the wheels of the other dumpster. Too dark to make out anything yet, just a mass of hair that hasn’t seen a brush in too long. A rasp of a breath in and weakly, “D-do you work here?”

Frozen in place with your body poised to run, but that voice holds no malice. They stutter on their deep breaths, breaths that sound pained. “Y-yeah.” You don’t relax but you aren’t set to sprint anymore. “Are you okay?”

Neither of you move closer but the figure pulls themselves into view more, a frankly too thin hand wraps around the corner of the dumpster to pull themselves forward and you finally can make out a face covered in grime. Eyes shine in the light that bleeds into the alleyway and he, you can finally tell, looks close to tears. Face pulled into a grimace when he scoots out to sit on questionable concrete.

“I just…I need help.” His other arm hugs his middle where his shirt is torn and your mind goes fast, trying to remember the first aid you’d learned in Girl Scouts a thousand years ago.

“Are you hurt? I can go get someone.” You glance over your shoulder knowing there’s at least a cop or an agent doing rounds at this time. “There’s a patrol-“

That’s your mistake, you’ll own it, turning around for too long. For trusting a stuttering mess. You turn back to face him and are stunned at how quickly he’s standing in front of you, those bright wet eyes boring holes into your head. You’d thought it was the shadows maybe but they really are black, from corner to corner, deep abyss that tracks your jump backwards.

You hadn’t heard him stand or shift or breathe and he’s so god damn close.

“I don’t need a patrol.” His voice sounds like white noise. A tuning to your hearing that makes your ears flex backwards at the sudden foreign noise. You swear you can feel it vibrating against your eardrums and coiling deep inside, words made corporeal to slither into your skull. There’s two voices bouncing between you, a double speak that seems to run cold around your neck. “I just need one of you.”

You couldn’t move if you wanted to. It isn’t fear holding your feet to the stained ground but an invisible grip, ironclad and cold, just like his words. You can move your eyes though and you rake over his appearance and try to keep it in your memory.

Long hair, dark eyes, no shoes, ratty jeans, torn raglan with a devil-

“Eddie?” Barely breathed out, silently uttered. He was dead. Well, at least presumed. You’d seen the flyers his uncle had put up and you’d seen how the town had treated them; crude drawings and torn off of the bulletin boards. “Eddie Munson?” You ask again to the pale face in front of you. Four years of high school seated next to him in drivers ed and home ec and art class. Not friends but acquaintances. You know that face. Even when it splits into a formidable grin you can see the ghost of his warm smile under cracked lips.

“Sort of.” His hands come up slowly to hold your neck, thumbs resting under your chin to tilt your head back. “It’s complicated.”

You expect his hands to tighten around your neck but they remain gentle in their movement, too cold against your skin. Unnaturally cold under your jaw where he starts to turn your head to the side.

“I thought I smelled something familiar around here.” His breath moves over your neck like the cold autumn breeze, carrying the promise of dead things at its end. Your heart beats tirelessly against your ribs and you still can’t move except for when he manipulates you around, his head dipping into the crook of your neck.

Fear should be at the forefront of your mind. You should be screaming and shaking, yelling for the police you know are just outside of the mouth of alley. You should be fighting back at him, fist wailing into his chest to push him back so you can fly out of his grip. However there’s a creeping calm of sorts that weaves through your thoughts. It feels fuzzy almost against your brain and you don’t even flinch when his dry tongue scratches over your skin.

“I do need help.” He keeps a hand pressed to your neck while the other pulls at your work polo, baring your flesh to his mouth. “Thank you.”

You can hear him in that moment, Eddie, not whatever this thing is that’s sinking its teeth into you. It hurts only for a moment, like a prick of a needle, and you can feel your mind going blank. Thoughts slip quick like water over rocks and you catch yourself on his shoulder to stay standing. That invisible force that bound you to the spot has faded as soon he begins to suck and again you should be running but you cling. There’s a peacefulness that comes with absence of thought and worry, enough so that you barely notice him drinking your blood. You barely notice the gore in his hair or the deep scars along his cheek. Your hearing begins to fade to only the single sound of his lips attached to you.

A fade to black for all your senses.

And then you feel it. Black tendrils that sneak into your awareness. They swirl and thrash in their form, long fingers of doom that grow around you. It’s a rushing feeling like a thousand wings brushing by you, pushing air across your face and ruffling your hair.

“Do you hear it?” Eddie whispers against your ear, lips warm and tongue wet where it drags along your lobe. “Monsters in the sky, right under us.” You’ve been lowered at some point, his back resting against the dumpster and you clung to the front of him. “So many they’d blot out the sun.” His hands still hold you but they’re warm now too against your cooling skin. “They’re looking for me.” A drop of something on your nose, something thick that drips onto his filthy shirt. “For us.”

Everything is muffled except for his clear voice. Those black tendrils move steadily along your awareness still, vines creeping in to drag you under into oblivion. Your throat sticks when you swallow and you try to form words before you pass out or die. Eddie’s head tilts in close to your mouth and you can smell the dirt and viscera on him.

“Something’s…around…”

“What is it?” He makes a show of looking around the shadows of the alleyway before letting his eyes drop to your barely open ones. The deep black is gone, replaced again by the familiar brown you know.

“Not here.” You need him to understand. The fingers crawl into your vision now, the few specks of light left that you can see, great red eyes in the middle distance of your mind. “Inside.” A weak motion to your head and you see it dawn on his face.

“You can see him too?” He asks you but doesn’t wait for a response before he digs his teeth into his own wrist. Blood rushes from the corners of his mouth and he shoves the mangled skin at you, your wince doing nothing to get it away from you. He cradles your head now, knees drawn up to help hold you while he feeds you something of himself. The blood pushes past your slack lips, bitter tannin where you expected salt and copper. No fight left in you while the wind rushes in your ears and the dark fist closes over your minds eye.

“I need help.” He intones again when you latch on to his wrist finally. “Will you help me?” No double speak this time, no white noise to warp your thoughts. Eddie asks you for help while you lay in a cold alley on cold concrete and drink from his self inflicted wound. You’ve never been friends, just acquaintances, but the blood is heavy on your tongue. He holds you close and keeps you both hidden in the dark. He sees the same monstrous form you do and there’s fear in those brown eyes, still shining, still wet with tears.

Your senses stop whining like a flicked switch, your hands coming up to grasp more fully at his offered arm. You nod and keep drinking and there’s that smile again, the real one, the warm one. “Thank you.”

It’s silent now except for the sounds of your eating and the rush of leathery wings beating underneath your feet.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hi! Do you know of any fics where Draco is a rich/powerful businessman? Maybe muggle au’s?

Hello! Your holds have arrived!

I think I've got the exact kind of vibes you're looking for! I hope you enjoy these fics! And as a bonus, be sure to check out this excellent art by @ano-ka-ba.

Rich/powerful businessman Draco

The Potters' Pool Party by @darcyshire (7,453 words, rated T)

When 12-year-old Scorpius is invited to a pool party, worried father Draco insists on tagging along for the sake of safety. By the time Draco realizes whose family is hosting, it's too late for him to back out.

i stay by @hogwartsfirebolt (9,104 words, rated M)

The darkening sky is dangerous for the shape of Harry’s desire, it makes it seem reasonable, as though it were a natural conclusion of having Draco once again within reach, rather than the mirage it actually is.

Seeking: pet carer for Bartholomew (four-year old rescue greyhound, no special needs) by @gallifrey1sburning (14,694 words, rated E)

When Draco’s boyfriend ends their relationship rather abruptly (and, frankly, extremely rudely), he leaves Draco with full-time responsibility for their rescue greyhound, Bartholomew. Draco loves his dog with all his heart, but the long hours he works at his law firm mean that he can’t possibly be home as much as Bartholomew needs. Enter Sirius Pet Care, an app designed to solve this very problem! When Draco books Harry, he’s relieved at how quickly the man and his dog bond. He’s less relieved by how unexpectedly, distractingly attractive Harry turns out to be… and how Draco’s afternoon meetings keep being “mysteriously” cancelled, meaning that he JUST HAPPENS to be home when Harry comes by. After all, it’s not appropriate to ogle one’s employees… right?

to be where I'm going (in the sunshine of your love) by theweightofmywords (19,080 words, rated E)

"He imagined Draco’s smile, all gums and slightly crooked teeth, his hair slicked back with Pacific water, and he knew: He’d travel as long as he’d need to if it meant he’d see that face. If it meant that Draco would hear the message he’d been carrying for so long. Maybe he didn’t have to travel the road alone anymore."

Draco and Harry go on a road trip together. It's about the journey, not the destination.

Uptown Downtown by Sbpagel (29,134 words, rated E)

Draco Malfoy is the spoiled, entitled, pretentious heir to Malfoy Constructions. James Black is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma and tied together with a puzzle.

it was a bad idea ('cause now I'm even more lost) by @all-drarry-to-me (36,446 words, rated T)

When Draco is told his green card is denied and he must return to England, he does the only thing he can think of and starts a fake relationship with the one available person in the room: Harry. The plan is simple — until feelings get involved.

When Trust and Truth Collide by silvergalaxy (47,374 words, rated E)

Harry meets Draco for the first time in the employee break room on a boring Wednesday morning and they immediately hit it off. Chance encounters turn into dates, and dates turn into feelings.

Oh, yeah. Draco's also Harry's boss. Harry has no idea.

Burn the Witch by @lettersbyelise (95,800 words, rated E)

When Harry Potter is sent in to investigate Draco Malfoy’s successful potions company, posing as Draco’s bodyguard, he doesn’t know the case will launch a series of events that will change his life — and Draco’s.

A story about choices, scars, Chopin piano pieces, and finding all kinds of love in the most unexpected places.

Pages of You by @wolfpants (101,717 words, rated E)

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't.

In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

A story about trying to figure out who you are, where you're going in life, and who you want to take along with you.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 15 - Hide(Yandere TMNT 2012 Raph)

A/N, not important: I'm running on steam and got a bunch of state test in a week and a half✌. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Vomit, kidnapping, attempted escape from an abuser, being in a dumpster, bugs, threats, rushed writing

Words: 1080

Summary: Staying silent is harder than it looks

Your hand has a vice grip on your mouth, your breathing shaky and shallow. Every breath you take sends waves of anxiety and fear through your spine, your eyes darting back and forth across the gross dumpster walls. You could hear his angered shouts in the distance, and the awful smell of rotting trash paired with the terror wracking through you made you want to vomit. A part of you wished you picked a better hiding place, but you knew there was nowhere else in the alley you turned down. Not unless you wanted to take a shot at hiding in the sopping cardboard box against the wall, but even the quick glance you gave it spoke wonders. It would have collapsed the moment your fingers brushed the cardboard.

Your crouched position was starting to hurt your back, your knees aching at the position. The dumpster was full when you climbed in, and while most trash was thankfully in bags, you could still feel something wet and slimy moving over your skin. You couldn’t even tell if the prickling on your arm was trash brushing against it, or a bug using you as a bridge. More bile pushes itself up your throat, but you desperately swallow it down. You didn’t want to be stuck in here with the smell of rancid garbage and stomach acid.

Your eyes stare straight ahead, the darkness penetrated by two small holes in the dumpster. It gave you enough vision to see outside if you leaned close, but you didn’t risk it. You didn’t want to give anything the chance to see you too.

The night is still, random cars passing by the alleyway giving you some hope. If you just got out and stood by the road, maybe someone would stop? They could take you to the police, or to a hospital, or to anywhere but here. Anywhere that he wasn’t. The thought of escaping, of finally being free is so tempting, that you almost get up and try it. Almost.

You body is frozen before you could truly decide, your breathing halted and eyes wide. Raph, silent at ever, had just landed in your alley. Dangerous curiosity trumps your survival instinct, and you lean closer to the holes in the dumpster. His sais were in his hands, the metal glinting off the lamps lining the streets. You could see how heavy he was breathing, his plastron moving in a hypnotizing pattern as if it was trying to coerce you to come out on your own. His eyes were pure white, something you had only seen once before. Last time he looked this serious, he almost put you in a coma.

Your mind tugs at you to move backwards, to hide in the safety of the shadows and silence, but the poison of curiosity has you firmly in its grasp. You watch in fascinated horror as Raph rampages through the alley, kicking over pails and tins while he grunts and curses. He walks further down the alley and you lean to the side, hoping to be able to follow him with your eyes. At the shift, you feel yourself start to slip and once more you’re doused with a cold rush of fear. You quickly reach your hands out to steady yourself on the walls of the dumpster, but in replanting your feet, you kick the metal floor harder than intended. You don’t even have time to look up before Raph is opening the dumpster, his white eyes green once more.

You couldn’t help but feel in awe for just a moment, your mind reeling as you lose your sense of reality. It was like you were looking up at your friend instead of the horror he had become, the hide and chase merely again rather than an attempt to save your life. He, unlike you, doesn’t waste time to gawk, his hands curling around your biceps and yanking you out of the metal coffin. You stand there, numb and still in shock of your stupid, preventable mistake. All you had to do was not move. All you had to do was not look. You could’ve been free, but here you are, back into the arms of a demon.

“You left me.” He hisses, his anger boiling over and making him shake. You continue to gape at him, fear paralyzing your body and tongue. Raph doesn’t seem to care. He shakes you slightly, your mind starting to work a bit more as your eyes meet the toxic green of his. “You left me.”

You don’t know what to say, and nothing could possibly help you in this situation. You were stuck. A goldfish in a fishbowl set by a pond. Tears sprout at your eyes as you start to crumple, your knees giving out and forcing Raph to take hold of your weight. He sneers, but says nothing as he picks you up. He parkours up to the roof of the buildings surrounding your alley, anger bubbling just under your skin.

In what feels like less than a second, he jumps down into an alley once more and sets you down. He eyes your pathetic form for a moment before scoffing, moving over to the sewer cover and prying it up. He grabs your ankle and drags you over, ignoring the growing screams and pleads that fall from your lips. He brings you into his arm with slightly more difficulty than before. Your flailing accompanied with his single hand carry was not helping him contain you. He jerks you back so your back hits his chest, making you wheeze from the impact.

“Stop your whining. Whatever happens, it’s your fault. I told you not to run, and you didn’t listen.”

You don’t listen, making him grumble with frustration. He ducks down on the ladder and shuts the sewer, plunging you both into near darkness. He doesn’t bother keeping you comfortable as he drags you down, letting your limbs hit the cold metal of the ladder rungs. He hits the floor and throws you over his shoulder, his grip on your calf threatening to snap it in two. He ignores your cries of pain and the fists beating against his shell, only marching on towards the prison he calls your home. Whatever awaited you there, you sincerely hoped you’d drop dead before you could find out. You doubted that would ever happen though. Raph would never let that happen. After all, he does love you.

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

🌿How to harvest & dry herbs🌿

⚠️This is just my personal approach based on research, mentors and my own experience, please do your own research too ⚠️

Some general guidelines:

These are all recommended for both uses, magical and medicinal, but particularly for plant material you’ll want to give medicinal use.

Always harvest ~10 meters away from contamination sources (roads and cars, railroads, constructions, factories, etc. Even more serious stuff like landfills and heavy metals) Plants can absorb toxic chemical compounds from any these sources, so if you plan to ingest them or apply on your skin etc, avoid contamination sources. Examine your area to find where it’s safest to harvest plant material from.

Only take up to 30% of plant material, preferably less (leaves, flowers, berries, roots) this is to allow for healthy regrow.

Don’t take material with visible harm, illness or bugs, such as yellowed or bug bitten / holey leaves, etc. Educate yourself to recognize different possible bugs or parasites or plant illnesses that may affect your local flora to avoid these.

Sometimes you’ll have better results with fresh materials, you don’t always need to dry them. Know when to use what, depending on your goal and what compounds you want to extract, and how it’s best to extract them.

If you prefer fresh, you can keep fresh herbs in a vase with water for up to a week, more or less.

Clean the branches & leaves by soaking them or washing them in saltwater to scare away little critters, and dry them stem-up, making small bundles with stems fairly separated so everything is well aireated, and always away from sunlight. Do not clean with alcohol, detergent, or any other substances. Just water or salty water will do.

Roots, flowers, berries and bark can be dried in drying racks or basquets. Separate them from each other, specially flower petals, to dry them thoroughly and keep in a dark place until they’re fully dried (you’ll know if they crack when handling them and don’t feel soft anywhere anymore). For roots, bark and berries, move and rotate every so often to make sure they dry evenly, or just dry them in the oven if you’re brave! (be careful not to burn them)

Aromatic herbs should be harvested before they bloom, when you see the fully formed buds and their smell (and taste!) is strongest. 

When cutting the stems, cut at an angle to allow for healthy regrow.

Always make sure you’re harvesting what you think you’re harvesting. Learn to identify plant species properly, and always, always research about lookalikes it may have, as they could be toxic or poisonous or harmful in some way. This is necessary for safety reasons.

Store everything in glass jars or paper bags, away from humidity, to prevent mold. I don’t recommend plastic bags or containers as they can more easily retain humidity but that’s me. Check on your stuff often too!! Different things will last more or less time on the shelf.

⚠️Extra reminder to always check which part of the plant is medicinal, check if any other parts could be toxic or harmful, check for dosages, contraindications, possible allergies, and possible interactions with anything else you’re taking!!!!!!!!

For specific plant parts:

Flowers: Harvest as soon as they’ve fully bloomed, during the full moon.

Berries and fruits: Harvest right after the first frost, generally in autumn. Look for deep color and tight, glowy skin. I like to harvest these under a waning moon.

Seeds and pods: Collect these when all flowers are gone, usually in late summer, under a waning moon.

Leaves: Ideally, collect these from bright green and flexible limbs, the first warm days of spring when there’s new sap and no flowers yet, but for many species you can take some leaves all year round. Under a waxing or full moon does it for me.

Bark: Harvest during the first warm days of spring, when the sap rises. You’ll find newly formed bark easier to peel off. Rather than peeling the trunk directly, cut off a branch or limb and peel it off completely, it’ll cause less harm to the tree or bush. Under a waxing moon it is.

Roots, rhizomes, tubers: Harvest after all the leaves are gone, around late autumn, but before all the good stuff stored in them is used during the winter. Under a waning or new moon.

Some superstitions:

These are more specifically for the magical properties of the plant. 

Some folks say you shouldn’t harvest plant material with iron scissors or other iron tools, as iron scares away the spirit of the plant, and thus, the potency of whatever your working on will be less.

For some plants, you’ll find specific prayers, chants or charms, more or less complicated rituals, to harvest specific parts at specific dates. This is, again, for the spiritual properties rather than medicinal. I am the type to believe proper harvest makes both the work and the medicine stronger, but it’s up to you to decide how to go about harvesting certain plants considered “sacred”, and even what plants are considered “sacred” will also change depending on your own practice, culture, tradition, region and more, so do your research!

It’s common belief to not speak while you’re going to harvest the herb, and neither when coming back, as to not alert the spirit your intentions and out of respect for what it gave you or what it’s doing for you.

But while you’re there, after harvesting, let the plant spirit know why you’re in need of it’s aid and leave some kind of offering in return (again, do your own research on specific plants and their folklore, but some general things such as water, sugar or eggshells, and more traditional things like a certain number of coins, will likely work just fine)

With some plant species, particularly the poisonous kind, or some associated with the devil in folklore, you’ll likely find ways to protect yourself from the spirit’s anger upon being unearthed or cut. These range from giving praise to the spirit in the form of poems, songs, or offerings before getting to harvesting, to drawing circles in the dirt around it with holy water, a knife, or your own hand, and may even be having to cut the branches or unearth the plant in a specific manner (some say backwards, some say away from you) to prevent it from harming you. Sometimes simply carrying protective charms will do. Learn the folklore of each species you work with!

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Of Memory and Brotherhood

Who likes angst with a side of Kaeya and Diluc reconciliation? Me! Who likes being an absolute bitch to her favorite characters? Also me. So have another fic that is pretty much just those two things.

Summary: Kaeya has a nightmare--no, an inherited memory of Khaenri'ah's fall. Diluc is there to help pick up the pieces

CW: Heavy angst, intense imagery, panic attacks, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 1490

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Kaeya walks through familiar-unfamiliar city streets. All around him are the tell tale signs of a civilization crumbling.

Soaring buildings, truly magnificent in construction, are torn down. Chunks of stone, pieces of metal warped beyond all recognition, are strewn across once smooth roads.

In between bits of rubble, there are bodies. Bodies of dark creatures, like the rift hounds that have recently begun to appear in Mondstadt, and bodies of people. Women, children, some crushed by the homes that once housed them, others mauled, sometimes beyond recognition.

It’s a familiar sight.

Once, it was a scene that frequently occupied his sleeping moments. His father--the first to leave him--had explained it as a generational memory, so that the last of their nation “would never forget how they fell.”

The elder Alberich had comforted his son, empathized. He too often saw Khaenri’ah fall. Such was their lot, he said.

Of course, then Kaeya was left behind and learned to suffer in silence. Granted, as a pre-teen, the dreams had a softer, blurry quality. Shelter for the innocent, he figures now.

Then he met Albedo, who had found a way to drive the dreams away.

Yet, now, he finds himself amidst his ancestor’s homeland, the memory now crystal clear.

Far in the distance he hears a child crying for her mother. Even further away, there are still sounds of combat. The soldiers of the nation do their duty, unwavering. Not unlike a certain red-head.

Yet, for all that he sees and all that he hears, he is a phantom in the world. Not long after appearing in this memory, he had tried to help a young woman who was bleeding on the street. She did not see him. She did not hear him. She was but a memory, one he was forced to see die alone.

Kaeya moves further into the center of the city, towards a golden palace and black tower that stands beside it.

Before he can reach it though, a sound like a hundred peals of thunder and the ringing of a gong, overlaid with the mournful melody of a lyre--a ringing requiem of power. 

Six--no seven--figure float above the city. One is a man, tall and stern. Another is a fair lady wreathed in violet lightning. And a third is a familiar face from his life in Mondstadt. Venti the Bard. Or perhaps he should say, Barbatos.

Kaeya pauses in the middle of the road and watches the divine figures. He watches as they pronounce judgment and shatter the city. As the city breaks and a nation cries out, backed by the pained song of the archon’s power, Kaeya is thrown back into his body.

Kaeya wakes and reaches for his vision.

He has to get out. Out, out, out. Away from Mondstadt City, away from the confinements of his room. 

He needs air. The wind. Somewhere else. Somewhere that could never be mistaken for the underground nation without a god.

Diluc stands underneath the great boughs of Vennessa’s Tree, taking a brief break from his patrol.

Despite the rumors of abyss mages in the area, he’s seen nothing so far. Not that that’s a bad thing, but vigilance never hurts.

At least under Vennessa’s tree, a place that is realistically holier than the Cathedral, there is safety. Safety and peace.

Or so he thought. A few minutes into his break a flash of white under the waning moon catches his eye.

Diluc takes a few steps towards the figure, squinting to make out more detail.

When he identifies the person his brows furrow. There’s no mistaking the tanned skin and dark hair or the scar crossing the man’s right eye.

Kaeya, of all people, is out in the middle of the night, shirtless and shoeless. If anything, it looks like he jumped out of bed, grabbed his vision and went for a run. Odd, because when Kaeya left the Angel’s Share earlier, he was most definitely inebriated.

It doesn’t take long for Kaeya to come close enough for Diluc to make out his expression. It’s one he’s never seen on the Cavalry Captain, not even in those painful days after his father’s death. The panic that has his breath coming in heaving gasps is contrasted by an eerie emptiness.

“Kaeya?” Diluc calls out softly.

Kaeya gives no sign of having heard him. Instead he trips on a rock, landing on his hands and knees. 

When he doesn’t get up, Diluc goes to kneel next to him. A glance at Kaeya’s feet reveals bloody soles. 

“Kaeya. Look at me.”

Once again Kaeya doesn’t register his voice.

“Kae.” Diluc’s voice is sharper, this time as his heart clenches in his chest.

He reaches out to touch Kaeya’s shoulder, only to be knocked backwards when his little brother latches on to him.

Diluc freezes. What do I do? Kaeya doesn't know it’s me. He can’t. He’s not in his right mind. What the hell happened to him? How do I help? Wait… why do I want to help? Archon’s wh--

The scarlet-haired man shakes his head and looks down at the man wrapping his arms around his waist, only to find Kaeya crying.

Archons what a mess.

Diluc gathers Kaeya into his arms and carries him to the tree, where he arranges them comfortably.

Kaeya continues to sob silently into his chest, limbs shaking with suppressed  emotion.

“Kae, I know you don’t like me all that much--and I really don’t like you--but you don’t have to hide from me. Let it out.”

Diluc’s assurances are all Kaeya needs to break. He can’t help but be glad that they’re at Windrise in the middle of the night, where no one can see the weakness in their Cavalry Captain.

After a while Kaeya’s tears stop and a semblance of self returns to his eyes, though none of the edge or the sass that is typical of him. Rather, it’s grief and horror that settles on his face.

“Kae, what happened?” Diluc asks when he’s more certain that he’ll be answered.

Of course, he isn’t.

Kaeya just pulls away and wraps his arms around his knees.

“Kaeya, you’re out here. I’m out here. Talk to me.”

“Why? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re a liar, but I don’t hate you. As much as I don’t like saying so sometimes, we’re still brothers. I’m trying to act like it for once, so let me damn it.

“I---” Kaeya pauses, giving Diluc a bewildered look. “I haven’t had Albedo make a new dose of the medication I use to prevent dreams. I tried to drink enough to prevent them but---”

“It didn’t work.”

“No.”

“Will you tell me about it? Sometimes, when I dream about Father’s death, talking to Adelinde helps.”

Kaeya’s eyes widen. Whether at the admission or the offer, Diluc isn’t quite certain.

“The remnants of Khaenri’ah are cursed to dream about the fall of the nation. I had them a lot when I was a kid. Not anymore, since I started taking Albedo’s concoction. But I ran out and the nightmare is clearer than ever. It was horrible, D. Watching the city be destroyed by monsters, hearing kids cry, watching the archons destroy it.”

Kaeya’s breath comes in short, shallow pants. Diluc reaches over to rub gentle circles into his brother’s back.

“Kae, breathe. It’s ok. You’re here, with me, not there. It’s just a nightmare. Not your memory. You’re Kaeya Alberich,” he tells Kaeya, using a similar litany to the one he’s used on his worst nights, when he comes perilously close to losing himself. “Spy, but also a Knight of Favonius and adopted son of Crepus Ragnvindr. You belong to Mondstadt as much as Khaenri’ah.”

“I’m Kaeya Alberich,” the younger man repeats. “Spy and Knight of Favonius. Crepus’s son. From Mondstadt and Khaenri’ah.”

The words seem to ground him, bringing him into the here and now.

“Better?”

“A little. Except now my feet hurt.”

“I wonder why? I’m taking you back to the Winery.”

Kaeya frowns. “Why?”

“Your feet are a mess. I want to go home. And I don’t think you want to explain to Jean why you can’t walk tomorrow. If you’re at the Winery, I can claim that you came over last night to raid my basement.”

“I don’t think she’d believe it.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Tell him the truth, a little voice in Diluc’s heart whispers. He’s family. He doesn’t deserve a bunch of excuses.

Fine. I’ll tell him.

“And I want to be there if you have any more nightmares. I think you’d do the same for me.”

“Heh. Probably. Sometimes I wonder why.”

“You know, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

Diluc stows his claymore under the tree--to be retrieved when he doesn’t have a 6 foot sibling to carry--picks Kaeya up onto his back.

“Hey D--” Kaeya says, voice soft and sleepy.

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you.”

A soft smile tugs at Diluc’s lips. “Anytime, little brother.”

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 47

Hello my lovelies. 😍 The next part is here. Only 2 more and an epilogue to go!! 🎉

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW (minor descriptions)

Word Count: 6,988

Azriel reached across the center console to take his wife’s hand. At his touch, she turned her head and offered him the most brilliant smile.

They were on their way to look at the house Amren found, his stomach a tangle of knots and nerves. When they bought the house in the Summer District, it was more about convenience and nice haves. It wasn’t a house they would live in for long periods, so it didn’t matter if it lacked certain things—though there was very little he would change if he were being honest with himself.

But this house was to be their home. This would be where they lived for a good portion, if not, their entire lives. This would be where they raised their children. Unlike their vacation home, this house had some requirements. Okay, extensive requirements, but he couldn’t put a price on the happiness of his family or their safety.

“Are you nervous?” Elain asked, sweeping her thumb over the backside of his fingers.

He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road. “A bit. I want this house to be perfect.”

She laughed a breathy sound that made him fall in love with her more and more every time he heard it. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think that the perfect house truly exists.”

“It can be updated to be perfect,” he told her, feeling her questioning gaze on his profile. “If we decide to buy this place, I need you to tell me about anything and everything you want to be changed or modified. I have a team on standby to make updates.”

Elain’s hand ran over her rounded belly. “I don’t think we’d even have time for that, get moved in and settled, build the nursery—”

“They could have it done in a matter of days, love.”

She looked at him then. “What if I wanted a wall taken out to open up the floor plan and an entirely new floor put in throughout the whole house?”

A grin turned up his lips. “It’ll be done within four to five days.”

He didn’t need to look at her to know her jaw was hanging open. “You have an atrocious amount of money,” she muttered.

At that, he chuckled, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss the back of her knuckles. “We,” he corrected, “have an atrocious amount of money.” No matter how many times she’d call it his, Az would correct her immediately. Maybe one day she’d get out of that habit and remember that everything he owned, especially now that they were married, was hers too. Both mentally and legally. Frankly, Az started viewing the penthouse as her home the day she moved in with him before they were even together. But until that day, he would just continue to remind her that what was his was also hers.

Elain huffed in exasperation.

They drove out past the city limits where houses became few and far between. One of the things Azriel had requested was privacy and security. He wanted the home to not be in close range of neighbors. “Everybody is always in everybody’s business,” he had said and his wife agreed. Next was security. The home needed some defensible space and was fenced off in some manner. Security cameras could be added to monitor the yard, and a private entrance to even get onto the property was also necessary.

He pulled the car into the drive of a closed, rod iron gate, rolled down his window, and typed the code Amren had given him into the little keypad. Groaning, the metal doors slid open, allowing the car to pass through. The entire property was protected by a concrete, sound barrier, which did a lot to ease his anxiety about letting his kids run free in the yard.

“It’s beautiful,” Elain breathed, leaning forward to take in the massive trees that lined the driveway. Branches over-reached in the canopy, creating an arch-like effect leading up to the sprawling, two-story home.

She gazed at him in awe as they pulled out in front of the house, parking behind Amren’s sleek-black car. Their realtor stood at the bottom of the wrap-around porch; a small force of nature that very few barely five-foot people could obtain. Amren had a way about her that made even the scariest of men cower.

They climbed out of the car, Elain moving slower at six months pregnant, while he unclipped Kaden from his car seat, setting him on the ground and taking his small hand in his.

“Where are we, Azweel?” his son asked, looking up at the dark blue door and side windows. His big green and gold eyes glanced up at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

Azriel’s heart soared in his chest from that look alone. “We’re looking at this house to see if we want to live here.” He squeezed his small hand, hoping to send his excitement down to the little guy.

But Kaden took one look at Amren and immediately tucked himself into Az’s leg, his fingers clutching the denim of his jeans.

Chuckling at the dramatic effect Amren had on him, he lifted Kaden onto his hip, his son burying his face into his neck and wrapping his arms around him in a vice-like grip. He was much heavier now than when they first brought him home, having packed on some healthy weight. It brought him such joy to see Kaden eating like a growing child should, asking for seconds when he cleaned his plate of everything they put on it. He was turning into such a curious kid too, always questioning things. Azriel loved being his father, even if he still didn’t call him as such. However, something in his gut told him that he was close to blessing Az with a fatherly name.

Elain waddled up to his side and took his hand in hers, noting how their son was reverting to his old habits in Amren’s presence. It had been years since the two women had seen each other. Amren wasn’t always present during their get-togethers in high school and went off on some adventure after graduating. To this day, he still couldn’t tell you where she went, only that she wound up with a realtor’s license and had been owning the industry ever since.

She eyed his wife, from her make-up-free face to her rounded stomach. “Elain. Good to see you again.”

Elain smiled. “You as well.”

“Amren,” he greeted, having been ignored completely. “Pleasure as always.”

Those slit eyes finally settled on him. “Family life suits you, Azriel.”

The statement took him by surprise, but he nodded his head in thanks anyway.

“The house,” Amren waved her hand behind her, “was built in the 1950s. It’s your traditional, white-picket-fence home, perfect for growing families. It’s been with the same family since its establishment and has gone through extensive remodels in the last ten years, the most recent being just over a year ago. The inside is modernized but still has the touches of originality in a bit of the structure.” She began walking up the front porch steps, indicating that they should follow. “The security wall was completed last year, which provides ample privacy and protection, as per your request. While the gate is rod iron, it can be updated to something solid to prevent any prying eyes.”

Elain glanced at him. “I kind of liked the gate, myself. It gave it some old charm.”

“I agree,” he said, running a thumb over the back of her knuckles.

“Now,” Amren turned to unlock the front door, “inside has a grand entryway—”

“Pardon me, Amren,” Elain spoke, interrupting whatever their realtor was about to say. “I don’t mean to be rude, but do you think we could tour the house by ourselves? Kaden is a bit nervous around strangers and I’d like for him to be a part of this process.”

He saw the snipe on the tip of her tongue, but before she could voice it, he spoke her name, the warning clear in his tone.

Amren sighed. “Of course. I’ll be in the backyard when you’re ready to go over things.” She opened the door, disappearing inside.

Once they were alone again, Azriel slid Kaden back to his feet between them, each taking one of his hands. He leaned over to kiss Elain’s cheek. “Ready, wife?”

Her answering smile stopped and restarted his heart. Fuck, he loved that woman.

They entered a large open foyer. Gorgeous grey, wooden floors greeted them, extending throughout the house. The walls, white featuring wainscoting gave off that originality vibe that Amren had discussed and Az was sure the house had been built with it. Just off the entryway was the staircase, which separated the living areas with the kitchen, living room, and formal dining room on the right side of the house, and then the den, library, and game room on the left.

Elain stepped forward, taking him and Kaden with her. “It feels so open,” she murmured, looking up at the wooden banister that lined the second-floor landing and hallway.

“The half bath is under the staircase,” he indicated with a nod of his head. “The six bedrooms and three full baths are upstairs.”

They toured the first floor of the house, finding the pristine, white and blue kitchen with a full breakfast bar, and a nook for a round table that they would eat at as a family. A large fireplace dominated the living area, creating this cozy vibe that Azriel knew Elain loved. After making rounds through the other rooms it was decided that Az would take the den as his home office.

“I plan to be working more from home after I return from my paternity leave,” he had told her.

Elain couldn’t mask her surprise. “You want to remote?”

He nodded. “I know we’ve discussed extensively about getting a nanny to at least help watch the kids once we’re both fully back at work, rather than sticking them in daycare, and I think I’d be more comfortable being present even if they’re vetted to the fullest extent.”

She ran a hand over her pregnant belly. “I can’t say I’m surprised by that, truthfully. Or that I’m opposed. I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about letting someone else care for the kids, especially with the life we live.”

Az cradled her face in his palms. “Believe me when I say our children will never be left alone with somebody we did not fully trust. Any person who wants to be a part of our lives will go through various background checks, rounds of interviews, and be bound by a contract. Their safety is my utmost priority, my love.”

He meant it too. Azriel would burn the world to ashes when it came to his wife and children. He didn’t care who went down with it just as long as they were safe.

Like Elain could read his every thought, she tucked herself into his body, kissing him softly.

As they moved further along and up the stairs, Kaden began to get more comfortable, running into each of the bedrooms.

His wife smiled at their son. “Which bedroom do you want, sweetheart?”

He turned to look at them, tapping his chin in contemplation. And then promptly pointed to the double doors at the end of the hallway, proudly announcing, “That one!”

They both laughed, Elain reaching out to ruffle his unruly hair. “Sorry, sweetheart. That’s Momma and Daddy’s bedroom. What about one of these?” she asked, pointing to the other rooms that were not the master.

Little feet took off down the hallway, inspecting each of the smaller, though not small at all, bedrooms. And then he peeked out of the doorway from one of the rooms next to theirs. “Can I have this one?” His lower lip jutted out in that puppy-dog look that Azriel could not resist.

“Of course, you can, son,” he said earning a shout of glee before Kaden disappeared into the bedroom again.

Elain waddled over to the room across, glancing inside. “I think we could make this one the nursery. I was thinking it might be better to do one nursery for them both, separate cribs, of course, but then everything is centralized. I don’t want to have to go from one room to another to nurse them in the middle of the night.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, palms spreading along the underneath side of her belly and gently lifted.

His wife moaned at the relief in her back, head falling against his shoulders. “Az.” Her breath turned heavy, the sounds she made making his cock hard in his pants. It should not turn him on, but Az knew Elain’s body ached a lot and when he did this for her, she turned into a mewling mess as if he was pleasuring her.

Pressing his lips into her neck, he began to slowly lower her pregnant stomach back down, but she gripped his arm, nails digging into the scarred flesh. “Just a few more seconds,” she whimpered, taking every ounce of relief she could get.

He kissed her sweetly, giving her what she wanted. “I got you, love,” Az whispered into the shell of her ear, delighting in the way goosebumps broke out across her soft skin.

When she finally gave him the okay, he carefully released her, his hands catching on the swells of her hips and squeezing. “I think a joint nursery is a wonderful idea. Then we can turn the next two rooms into their bedrooms once they’re toddlers and need their own space.”

She went languid in his arms, leaning heavily into his embrace. “We could put the cribs in either corner over there,” she pointed. “And then the changing table between them under the window. A rocking chair in that corner.” Elain twisted slightly, reaching out to brush her fingers along the wall. “And a dresser here.”

Azriel grazed his lips over the curve of her jaw. “And the color scheme?”

Elain was still looking at the blank wall where she indicated the dresser should go. “Actually, I was thinking perhaps Feyre could paint something for us. Maybe something forestry with cute animals peeking out behind the trees. At dusk, the sky shaded in beautiful blues, pinks, and oranges.

His smile pressed into her neck. “Like our wedding,” he said.

Her fingers ghosted over his arms, still wrapped around her. “I thought it might be a sweet testament to us in here too.”

“I love it. It’ll be perfect.” Turning her in his arms, Az brought her lips to his in a slow, sweet kiss. She melted into him, sighing into his mouth in bliss. It was tender and gentle and full of so much love, it felt as if his heart would beat its way out of his chest.

He could’ve spent the rest of the day standing there, kissing his perfect wife, but the sound of little feet followed by a “Momma!” pulled them apart, just in time to see Kaden dash into the room.

Elain tucked herself into his side, facing their son. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Momma, there’s a pool!”

Her face morphed into astonishment. “There is? Well, let’s go see it.”

Az chuckled at his wife’s antics, taking her arm by the elbow and following their son down the hallway. “Kaden, can you swim?” he asked, genuinely curious. There hadn’t been an opportunity to determine that since his adoption.

The little guy turned on the step. “No.”

Elain glanced at him. “He’ll need to take swim lessons soon.”

But Azriel was already pulling his phone from his pocket, going to the notes section where he kept track of things and added a comment about swim school. He used it to monitor Kaden’s progress in school, already seeing a huge difference since he started class and working with his speech therapist. There were reminders for teacher conferences, and appointments, links to things he wanted to buy for his birthday that were more appropriate once they moved, and things he needed to look into.

Brown eyes peeked at his phone, the corner of her mouth lifting. “You’re an excellent father, Az,” Elain whispered, kissing his cheek once they reached the bottom of the stairs and made their way out to the backyard.

The words were still sometimes a shock to hear, both because he never thought he’d ever get to be a father, and that he’d be good at it. “Don’t get too close to the pool, Kaden,” he shouted when his son got near the edge.

Ever the good listener, he took a step back, peering closely at the turquoise waters.

“We’ll definitely need to get him into those lessons sooner rather than later,” Elain said quietly, watching how their curious son inspected the pool.

He grunted his agreement, taking in the entirety of the backyard. The back patio was covered by a structured overhang, large enough to house an entire patio set including outdoor couches and a full table. A huge yard awaited them down the single step from the patio deck. The pool was surrounded by concrete to fit multiple lounge chairs and featured a rock waterfall and diving board.

Carefully, Az guided Elain onto the grass to get a better view.

“We could put in a play structure over there,” Elain said with a point of her finger toward the small patch of grass on the other side of the pool. Her head twisted to look in the direction of the yard. “I know the kids will want to eventually put a treehouse up in that tree there. And a tire swing,” she smiled. “Oh, I think they’d love that.”

Azriel kissed the side of her head. “What else can you picture?”

Her eyes landed on the small shed. “That could be expanded a bit to become your working shed.” She looked up at him then. “I know you used to love tinkering around when you worked at the mechanic’s shop in high school. It’d be great for you.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Love, everything you just said was for either the kids or myself. What, out here, would you like for yourself?”

Elain’s head cocked to the side, her confusion shown in the furrow of her brows. “I have everything I could ever want right here.” The words were spoken so softly, that he almost missed them, but he understood her intent. Them—meaning him and the kids—were the only things that mattered to her.

And he just couldn’t accept that. “El, this is your home too. I want you to have a space just as much as the rest of us.” When he saw the rebuttal forming on her lips, he silenced her with a look, taking her hand, fingers lacing, and walked her through the yard towards the side of the house. “When we sat down together and discussed our needs and wants for the house, I was surprised that there was not something specific on the list for you. Something I truly expected to see. So, when we finished, before I sent the list to Amren, I added something for you.”

They reached a small gate, coming up to just below the chests. Az reached over to unlatch it, opening the door for her and escorting her into, well, it was a dirt patch with two raised planter boxes.

Elain gasped, hand reaching out to cover her mouth as she realized what he was showing her.

“In high school, you had always said you wanted a house with a garden that you could maintain. So, I made sure to add a gardening area to the list and brought it to the top as a requirement.”

“Az,” she breathed, looking at him with tears shining.

He guided her over to the large, concrete-built boxes. “I thought these could be used for growing vegetables, herbs, and spices,” he told her, having already imagined what she would build. “You could line the wall with roses. And perhaps a garden path in the back. There’s plenty of room for it. Even a water fountain of some sort if you’d like.” He turned to face her, cupping her cheek in his scarred palm; his thumb brushed away a stray tear. “I know we’ve got a lot going on right now, and that this may not be a project to tackle till after the twins are born, but this area will remain untouched until you decide what to do with it. As long as it’s for you. I don’t want you to try and expand the kids’ area here. They have plenty of room. This is solely for you. Whatever your heart desires, it’ll be yours, Elain.”

She was full-on sobbing now, clutching him as much as her protruding stomach would allow. “Azriel, I love it,” she cried. “I love this house. I love the property. But most of all, I love you, for even thinking about me like this. For gifting this to me.”

His grip on her face tightened. “You have given me everything, Elain. You, and Kaden, and the twins,” he laid his hand on her belly, just in time to feel one of the babies kick, “you’re my everything. And I want this to be our home where we raise our children.”

Elain was already nodding, a grin overtaking her beautiful features. “I want that too, Az.”

He smiled softly at her, bringing her mouth to his for a sweet kiss. “Then let’s go put in an offer.”

~~~~~

Two, short weeks later, they got the keys to the house. Since the day they put in an offer, everything had been a whirlwind. Amren had told them the owners already received three offers prior to their showing, so Azriel being Azriel, swooped in with one at fifty thousand more than the asking price. Elain still had whiplash with how quickly he placed it on the table, not even having determined what the other bids were for.

“My wife wants this house,” he had said to their realtor. “We’re going to get it.” And that had been the end of it.

The sale closed and they were moving in. Or had been the last few days. Since their offer was accepted, she and Azriel had been non-stop packing at the penthouse, going through things that they could get rid of, and determining what they needed to purchase.

The kitchen in the house now featured brand-new state-of-the-art appliances. They ditched the leather couch in favor of something more family-friendly and comfortable, especially with Elain now seven months pregnant. Azriel would do anything to make sure she was as comfortable as possible, which was difficult since she was a beached whale with legs.

They unpacked essential rooms first, the kitchen, Kaden’s, and then their own. While they hired an official moving company for the furniture, the unboxing was up to them.

Moving was such a chore, but moving while heavily pregnant, well, Elain was over it hence why she was “taking a break” in the grey rocking chair, per her husband’s request while he worked on putting together the few things they had purchased for the nursery.

She ran a hand over her protruding belly as she watched Azriel attempt to build the first crib. He was sitting on the floor, his tool kit spread around him, looking so out of character that she couldn’t help but giggle.

The noise had him glancing up at her. “What’s so funny?” he asked, cocking a curious brow at her.

She grinned. “You look so out of sorts right now. I’ve never seen you so disorganized.”

He huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure these directions are in a different language.”

“I’m sure Cassian could’ve helped you. He put together Sutton’s crib and it was fairly similar, if not the same, as these two.”

Azriel glared at her affectionately. “I don’t need Cassian’s help. I’m perfectly capable of putting together the cribs for my children.”

Elain rolled her eyes, muttering “stubborn man” under her breath.

“I heard that,” he said, not bothering to look up from the document in his hand.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” she admitted, pushing herself up from the rocker. The world swayed and Elain felt her knees start to give out on her.

Azriel dropped the screwdriver from his fingers, jumped to his feet to grab her by the elbow, and drew her into the safety of his arms. A swear word passed his lips, attracting the attention of their son who had been driving his little trucks on the floor, oblivious to the world.

“El, love, are you all right?” Worried, hazel-colored eyes, flecked with strands of green and gold, peered down at her.

Azriel’s level of fussiness since she had gotten pregnant amplified ten-fold. And while it normally made her huff in annoyance—she was carrying two babies, not an invalid—this time, she was grateful for it, knowing she would’ve hit the ground if he didn’t have the reflexes he possessed. “Just got a little lightheaded is all.”

His eyes flicked over her face. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’m fine, Az,” she told him, attempting to pull herself from his embrace, but he refused to let go.

“If the doctor thought you were fine, she wouldn’t have ordered you off work and recommended bed rest already. This doesn’t look like bed rest.”

Elain sighed in frustration, knowing he would’ve used that against her. Her blood pressure had risen too high and her OBGYN was concerned about preeclampsia, which, all right, was a valid concern. But it didn’t negate how much they still had to do before the babies’ arrival. Not to mention the baby shower coming up next month.

“Azriel, there’s too much to do,” she all but whined. “There’s still nursery furniture to put together, and then determine what else I will need to purchase tomorrow at the baby store. I have two boxes of baby things that need to get unloaded in the dresser once it’s finished.” She had begun nesting over the last two weeks, buying an assortment of items for the twins already. “Kaden has a box of summer clothes that need to be put away. I’ve got two boxes in the kitchen still waiting for me. And—”

“All of which,” he interrupted, “I can take care of. The furniture shouldn’t take me too much longer, then I’ll start unboxing things while you nap.” Az brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I know you want it to be finished, love. I get that. But rushing to do it this instant isn’t going to help with your blood pressure.” He leaned in for a soft kiss, effectively melting away her desire to rebuttal. “Everything will be done before their arrival. I promise you.”

Elain knew he was right, but it was that motherly instinct growing inside of her that wanted to get things taken care of now.

Before she could voice her insistence, Azriel said, “I’m not asking you, Elain. I’m telling you.”

Her gaze narrowed at the command, hating that he knew she’d comply when he used that tone with her. She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Fine! You win. Only for an hour though.”

His grin turned infectious and it took all her willpower to resist its charm. “Of course. Only an hour,” he repeated unconvincingly as he guided her from the nursery and toward their bedroom.

“I mean it, Azriel. One hour. Singular. I want you to wake me up after.”

“Promise.” The glint in his eye told her he was lying and she muttered some curse words under her breath knowing there was no chance in hell that he’d be waking her after an hour if she was still soundly sleeping. He pulled the sheets back, tucking them over her once Elain climbed into their bed, curling up on her side. “Sleep well, my love.”

But she was already gone; the raging storm outside pulling her into a blissful slumber.

~~~~~

Azriel was finishing up getting ready for bed, his wife already lying down and waiting for him. He spent the majority of the day building the nursery and unpacking the kitchen so they could eat a proper meal. Despite how much their son loved eating pizza the last two nights, he knew his wife and the children she carried needed proper nutrition.

A smile turned up the corner of his lips at the thought of how Kaden had been so concerned over his mother earlier that day. Bless his heart. He followed them into their bedroom when Elain went to lie down for a nap, concern shining in his green and gold eyes. “Is momma sick?” he’d asked him as Azriel lifted him into his arms and carried him from the room.

“No, bud. Momma’s just tired. She’s growing your brother and sister in her tummy and it makes her sleepy.” He kissed his dark hair, dropping him off in his bedroom to play while he finished up his work.

When Az went to check on his wife later, he found their son curled up against her chest, sound asleep.

Rain crashed heavily against the windows, lights flickering in response.

“The storm is getting worse,” Elain mentioned as he entered their bedroom. Her eyes were on the balcony doors, lightning flashing across the sky. “I hope it passes by morning so I can get to the baby store. I want to finish the nursery by this weekend.”

Winter was in full effect if this storm was anything to go by. “I wish I could go with you guys tomorrow.” Azriel had a check-in with Tarquin and a planning session with his executives tomorrow that he was unfortunately unable to get out of. The Moonbeam twins would be escorting Elain and Kaden to Hewn City so she could purchase the last of the nursery items, and he hated the fact that he could not be there with them, especially with them going into Hewn City territory.

She turned to look at him, hearing the unspoken thoughts running through his head. He was worried, of course, he was. His wife was seven months pregnant for fucks sake and Kaden was going with her without his protection. It put him on edge. She reached out a hand for him. “C’mere, my love.”

He went willingly, crawling over her body and kissing her first on her belly, and then again on her lips. Az had taken to kissing all his babies goodnight recently, including his wife. “You need to be safe tomorrow. Anything you feel is off, come straight home.”

Elain’s lips quirked up. “You’re so fussy,” she teased, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We’ll be fine. Fen and Con are both nearly as protective as you over me and Kaden. Nothing’s going to happen, but I promise you we will come home if anything feels off.”

“Nobody is as protective of you two as me, but that does make me feel a smidge better,” he said, making her chuckle. Az attached his mouth to the junction where her neck and shoulder met, letting his tongue swipe over her sensitive skin. As predicted, her body shuddered, a delicate moan slipping past her sweet lips. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you make little noises like that,” he groaned, nipping at her throat.

Her fingers traced up the swirling ink of his biceps.

They had only been able to christen the new house a handful of times since they moved in, Elain being far too tired in the evenings for anything other than sleeping. But it seemed that her nap earlier that day abated her need for sleep that evening as she arched her body into his.

“Azriel,” she sighed when he licked the sensitive spot behind her ear. She slid her hands into his hair, mussing the dark locks at his nape.

Slipping his shirt from her body—they’d become a staple for her to wear at night this late in her pregnancy—Az used his mouth to map her pale flesh, dutifully avoiding her breasts and nipples knowing they were extra sensitive now and typically caused more pain than pleasure.

He kissed his way down the valley of her breasts, over the swell of her stomach, growing with life, until he reached just above her slit, groomed to her liking with his help. And just when he was about to taste the sweet wetness between her thighs, they heard it.

The sound of Kaden’s door opening and his little feet padding quickly to their bedroom door.

Azriel glanced up at his wife with his mouth hovering over her just as their doorhandle jiggled—thank god he locked the door before crawling into bed.

“Daddy!” Kaden called out.

Az was pretty sure his heart stopped at the name. Kaden just called him Daddy.

Elain was staring at him with tears glistening in her eyes.

Stunned, it took Kaden’s next cry to snap him into action. Because that was a cry of distress. “Daddy!”

Shoving himself off the bed, Azriel grabbed Elain’s t-shirt and tossed it to her. “I’m coming, buddy,” he called out.

“Hurry!”

Panic flooded his blood, filling him with an overwhelming need to remove whatever had terrified his son. He quickly made his way to the bedroom door in his boxers, unlocking and throwing it open.

His son crashed into his legs, face wet with tears. “He tried to grab me!” he burst out, clinging to Az’s knee.

He wasted no time in sweeping him into his arms, shutting the door, and relocking it. “You’re okay, Kaden,” he cooed, patting his back. “You’re safe.” He met his wife’s fearful gaze, carrying their son onto their bed. “What happened Bubba?” he asked, voice soft.

Kaden sniffled, burying his face into the crook of Azriel’s neck, his tears dampening his bare skin. “He tried to grab me,” his son repeated, terrified.

“Who, Kaden?” Elain asked, reaching out to rub his back.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I saw his hand.” His head tipped back and he peeked up at his father’s face. “Don’t let him take me,” he cried, lower lip wobbling.

Lightning cracked outside illuminating their bedroom and causing Kaden to whimper in fear, tucking himself further into Azriel’s embrace. He hugged his son, comforting him and whispering words of encouragement into his hair. “Nobody is going to take you away from us, buddy. I promise you, you’re safe here.”

Azriel had no desire to step away right then, knowing that his son needed him and his presence, but he needed to confirm there wasn’t anyone in the house. He looked at Elain who nodded in understanding and reached out to take their son from his arms.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Kaden went willingly into her embrace, Elain shuffling him in her lap so his head was faced away from Azriel while he opened his nightstand drawer, tapped his four-digit code into the small gun safe he kept there, and pulled out his nine-mil, clipping in the magazine.

“I’m going to sweep the house,” he said, grabbing the bedroom key and making his way to the door, gripping the handle. “Stay here.”

Azriel started in Kaden’s room, checking every nook and cranny for anything amiss, but found nothing. The window was shut tight and locked, the closet empty of everything but clothing and boxes, nothing under his bed but a stray toy or two. Then he moved to the nursery, followed by the other bedrooms that were currently being used as storage and the bathrooms.

He made his way downstairs, sweeping the entirety of it. Az knew nobody had slipped out through a door or window, all of them were set to chime if opened and he would’ve heard that. Confused, he slipped the gun into the back of his boxers, returning to his son’s bedroom to determine what, exactly, had set him off. He stood for a few minutes, listening to the rain crash outside, and just as he was about to leave, he heard it.

The branch from the tree outside smacked into the window from a gust of wind, scraping against the glass. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room and he caught the shadow of the branch on the wall above Kaden’s bed. It looked like a disfigured hand reaching out. Realization dawned on him at what had terrified his son.

Slipping back into their bedroom, he found Elain still cradling Kaden to her chest.

She looked up at him with worried eyes and he shook her head, easing her concerns. Casually, she placed her hand on the side of Kaden’s face, covering it while Az removed the clip from his gun and replaced it in the safe.

They both agreed that if he kept a gun in the house, which, they needed given the threats they still faced, it had to be unloaded and locked away somewhere where the kids would never be able to get into. Azriel had picked a random set of numbers as the combination and verbally spoke them to Elain should she ever need to open the box. They had gone back and forth on the location of the small safe, but ended up deciding closer access to the bed was likely more ideal in an urgent situation.

“I promise you that he will never see it unless we’re under some sort of attack and I have to defend this family.” He cupped her face between his palms, letting his touch soothe her anxieties. “But I will do everything in my power to make sure that Kaden, and the rest of our children, will not be exposed to the violence my life brings. That is my promise to you.”

“There’s nobody in the house,” he said, closing the drawer of his night table. Padding his way around the bed, Az lifted Kaden into his arms, kissing his temple. “I want to show you something,” he murmured, carrying his son out of the room and back to his.

Kaden’s hold tightened around his neck and shoulders.

“You’re safe, son,” he breathed, tucking him closer to his chest as he made his way to the window. “Do you see the tree outside?” he asked, tipping his head down to confirm whether his son was listening.

Those green and gold eyes, still wet with tears, were looking at the swaying tree just outside the glass panes.

“The branch scratched the glass. And then when the lightning flashed, it illuminated the shadow of the tree branch to look like a hand reaching out for you.” He ran a hand down his back. “Nobody was trying to get you, bud. It was just the storm playing tricks.”

Not a second after he finished speaking, lightning flashed and a gust of wind sent the branch raking down the glass.

Kaden shrieked in fright, throwing his arms around Az’s neck and burying his face into his warm chest.

He carried him back to the master bedroom, repeating that he was safe and that nobody was going to hurt him.

Elain was leaning up against the headboard when they returned, a knowing smirk on her face letting him know she knew their son was going to be coming back to sleep with them. “What was it?” she asked as he settled onto the bed, sliding Kaden down his chest to lay more comfortably on top of him.

“The branch outside his window. I’ll call somebody to come remove it in the morning.” Grabbing his phone, he armed the motion sensors in the house, just in case. They typically kept them off, worried Kaden would creep downstairs in the middle of the night for some unknown reason and set it off. But with him in their room for the night, he decided it would be okay to leave them on.

Dropping his device on the table beside the bed, Azriel flicked the light off, tugging a pliant Elain closer to his side. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he whispered into the darkness.

Even without being able to see her, Az could feel her gaze on him, assessing his words. “Why are you sorry?”

He sighed. “Because I wanted to make you feel good and I didn’t get to finish. I know we haven’t really gotten to take advantage since the move and I just wanted to show you my appreciation.”

She huffed a laugh, feeling her reach out to thread her fingers into their son’s hair—the boy already sleeping peacefully to his father’s beating heart. “Az, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but our life will be nothing but constant interruptions from now on. Please don’t apologize for having to step away and be a father. Because that’s what you were doing tonight. Being a father and taking care of our child who needed you. I will never begrudge an interruption like that.”

Azriel snagged her fingers, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “It’ll take some getting used to not being able to enjoy ourselves like that whenever and wherever we want.”

Her palm spread across his cheek. “We’ll figure it out like everything else.” Elain let her thumb swoop across his stubbled skin. “I love you, Azriel.”

Wrapping an arm around Kaden and cradling the back of his head, Az leaned over to kiss her softly, tucking her against his side so that her swollen belly rested on him. “I love you more, El.”

Az fell asleep that night with his family wrapped around him and dreamt of the future he couldn’t wait to see come to life.  

~~~~~

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[dateless-bar]

If they smoke or not... (Modern AU)

Note: Please cherish life and refrain from smoking. The content mentioned in the text is purely fictional and the smoking behavior of characters in fan fiction is often a symbolic representation of their personalities, rather than a recommendation for anyone to imitate. Any tobacco referred to in this article is assumed to be legally compliant products in various countries/regions.

This fanfic is based on #project epd modern AU design.

Lion

His habit of smoking a pipe was developed in the military camp, and now he only smokes tobacco containing Latakia. He collects some discontinued Balkan tobaccos, which he takes out to enjoy on special occasions. He is particular about how the tobacco is packed and likes to wear gloves while doing it.

Counterintuitively, his tobacco consumption only increases when the novel progresses smoothly or when he is in a good mood.

Fulgrim

His design team often pairs slim or uniquely filtered cigarettes with rebellious visual styles, so he might occasionally try them himself. However, he doesn't like the mild and smooth flavors; instead, he prefers those with sweet and spicy notes.

It's said that he once collaborated with Ferrus on a movie special effect where he lit a cigarette with his fingers, which became widely popular on short video platforms.

Perturabo

He smokes single-brand cigarettes and cigars, and also collects intricately carved and lacquered lighters and cigarette cases. Although there is no clear evidence, employees at Iron Warriors Studio tend to believe that his smoking indicates a bad mood, so they remain particularly vigilant.

He has recently been trying to switch to vaping, but it seems he hasn't yet found a brand he fully likes.

Jaghatai Khan

One of his hobbies is smoking Chogoris cigarettes by the car when off-roading. He enjoys hand-rolling traditional cigarettes and has a strong preference for the natural flavors from his hometown. That said, he doesn't mind trying new products, but he generally doesn't think much of most common flavors on the market.

He also occasionally uses snuff.

Russ

He has tried smoking but doesn't really like it and doesn't understand what's special about this. He can smoke a bit with his buddies but doesn't have a long-term habit himself. Moreover, his pets all dislike the smell.

He prefers the scent of local herbs and spices, but if he had to name a real indulgence, it would definitely be drinking.

Dorn

He is a strict enforcer of no-smoking rules. Not only does he not smoke, but smoking is also prohibited in both the office and construction sites of Imperial Fist Co., including for contractors. Yes, it is that strict.

He will unhesitatingly point out or stop any such behavior and will clearly inform you that smoking is harmful to health.

Curze

He doesn't smoke and doesn't understand it at all. Not every character from urban legends has every bad habit. He likes eating sweet things.

If you smoke, sometimes he will suddenly reach out and knock the glowing cigarette out of your hand.

Sanguinius

He knows how to smoke but rarely does so. Horus taught him how to smoke cigars, but he mostly just tried a puff or two while Horus was smoking. In such cases, he doesn't send his clothes to dry cleaning but waits for the smell to dissipate before wearing them again.

Ferrus

He used to vape occasionally, but it was never a particular hobby, and he suddenly quit after a period of not using it. His favorite mechanical hand doesn't work well with most vaping devices, and developing a module just for this purpose seems a bit excessive.

Angron

He doesn't smoke and dislikes people who do. The smell of smoke makes him feel irritable and even want to hit someone. For your own safety, absolutely do not smoke in front of him.

Guilliman

He doesn't smoke and actively promotes smoking bans in public places as a way to reduce the burden on the healthcare system, an initiative he proposed himself.

When he lived with Lion, who smoked pipes almost exclusively in the study and backyard, surprisingly they never argued about this matter. Now, he can even distinguish which type of tobacco Lion smoked each day just by the scent.

Mortarion

He smokes heavily and constantly. His cigarette case and smoking apparatus are filled with Barbarus tobacco, and his entire body seems permeated with its scent. He may pause only when in the laboratory, but otherwise, he is almost always smoking.

If his cigarettes run out, he becomes engulfed in an inexplicable emotional state.

Magnus

He doesn't smoke and doesn't have any particular feelings about it. However, if you were to smoke in his study or game room, he would explode on the spot. Perturabo respects his wishes and has never done so.

He has tried hookah before and seems to have a higher opinion of it. He has hookah equipment at home but doesn't use it often. He prefers aromatherapy instead.

Horus

He smokes blended tobacco and cigars, especially during periods of rapid gang expansion, using this action to create a strong impression, ultimately as strategic image management. He collects some cigarette cases and cigar cutters used by his father.

He has a habit of taking off his ring when smoking.

Lorgar

Surprisingly, he occasionally smokes, although most of the time he does not.

When he does smoke, it's usually just casual smoking of regular cigarettes in private. During his regular work, he still advises believers to prioritize their health, but within the church, smoking and exposure to secondhand smoke are strictly prohibited.

He is very cautious about removing the smell of smoke from his clothes, using church incense to cover it up.

Vulkan

He has smoked before but didn't particularly enjoy it, and he doesn't recommend others to do so either. Occasionally, he even advises Malcador to reduce his collection in this regard. He has tinkered with interesting multi-functional lighters and such gadgets, but he doesn't think they should be used for smoking.

Corax

He occasionally smokes an old-fashioned long cigarette, but not very frequently. Due to his work, his image doesn't seem particularly out of place even if he smokes, but he prefers coffee if he needs a pick-me-up.

He has an album cover where he is depicted smoking in Soho’s night view, but later due to distribution reasons, it was changed to a lollipop in some regions.

Alpharius

You'd better not know.

[lunar-rcp]

could you do something with Roy being cared for by Poli. I don’t mind it being anything, I just want my favorite character to be comforted—Kidshowsarecool

Putting out your flames of emotions

# . . ! tags; fluff/angst (mostly on roy's part, though)

Having achieved his dream of being a recuse member, he already had his life set in stone. Saving others from unfortunate incidents.

However, the firetruck never could save himself at times. (Which was, mostly.)

And today was one of those days.

Roy sighed wearily, his gaze saddening as he closed the electrical panel after inspecting it thoroughly at Mr.Builders place. Today was quite the exhausting day, even the overworking fire truck could admit that to himself. It was one of those days where he just wanted to quit and imagine himself laying onto his bed, happy to even hear his own thoughts.

But, he couldn't. He had to please others around him, that was the goal he set for himself.

“Roy!” Mr.Builder yelled with glee as he approached the firetruck, quickly making Roy snap out of his carousel of thoughts.

“O-Oh! Erm, ah-..” Roy fiddled with his fingers, desperately trying to compose himself as quickly as possible. He couldn't just show off this state to anyone. Even his own rescue team. The firetruck despised it when anyone would worry about him. He was fine. 

Well, he thought he was fine.

“..Yes?” Which was what he managed to mutter out, cringing at his own answer. His eyebrows furrowing, pondering as to why he just didn't feel his best.

“Seems like you've finished ya work here? Well, that's great! Oh, and also–” Mr.Builder suddenly tilted his head, taking notice of how dull the firetrucks expression was. “Hey, Roy? What's with the long face? Is your day not going swell?..” Mr.Builder spoke with a concerned tone. In response, Roy shook his hands frantically.

“Oh, nono! Don't worry, don't worry! I'm just fine!”

Roy gulped. He just lied. But, he didn't want to worry anyone about his day.

His day contained of bratty children screaming at the firetruck, all because he was concerned for their safety. He also had to set out many fires, having to face families look at their now charred houses.

..But he couldn't tell Mr.Builder that.

“Ya sure? Well, can't be helped! I'm just a big worrywart, aha.” Mr.Builder scratched his head, chuckling. “As I was sayin’, could ya check out some fallen signs in the mountains? Me and my team jus’ don't have the time with the new construction.” 

He didn't want to. But, what could he say? He'd rather toss his emotions into a bottle and ship it overseas than to face a disappointed citizen's face. “Oh, of course Mr.Builder. I'll get on to it.” Roy spoke with a quiet soft sigh, saying his goodbyes and transforming into his vehicle form to drive off to the mountains. 

. . .

The police car was patrolling the road to the mountains, humming softly along with the whimsical tunes of birds chirping. 

Poli stopped his humming when he spotted quite the familiar red silhouette from the distance, it wouldn't take a genius to find out who that red paint belonged to.

“Roy! Hey, Roy!”

Roy stopped in his tracks. He knew Poli too well; and so did Poli. It would take a matter of seconds for the police car to find out that something wasn't right.

‘Pretend you didn't see him, pretend you didn't see him..’ Roy talked to himself in a whispered tone, swiftly turning around and driving the other way. To which leaving the police car puzzled.

“Huh? What's going on?” Poli raised an eyebrow, this wasn't like Roy. Concerned, Poli started to drive towards Roy's direction.

“Roy! C'mon, what's up?” Ack. That concerned tone left a bitter taste in Roy's mouth and heart. The guilt started to settle in, and so were emotions that started to bubble.

“..D-Don't..-” Roy swallowed his stutters, his voice obviously cracking. This only added to Poli's concerns. “Don't worry, I'm, u-uh.. fine.” The guilt at last has come up to the surface as his eyes were pricked with bubbles of tears. Roy refused to face Poli, not in this way. He needed to escape the situation. “U-Uhm, gotta go. See you.” The firetruck started to drive away, his tears already spilling on his frame.

“..Roy? Wait, no! Roy!” Before Roy could react, Poli sped right in front of him. No surprise for the fastest car in Broomstown. “Roy, you're acting off. Please tell me wha-” Poli stopped his rambles of questions to a halt when he saw tears bubbling in the beady eyes of the firetruck. “Oh, Roy..” Poli sighed sadly, driving closer next to his best friend, touching his tire against his.

And that was the final arrow to break the bottle of emotions as Roy started to sob. The guilt completely ate his composure away. “I'm- I..! S-So..” Roy choked on his words, only to be interrupted by his sobs.

“Shh,” Poli shushed the firetruck, softly rubbing against his tire. “It will be okay. Just spill it all out, friend.” 

. . .

After Roy finally had calmed down from this aching moment, the two had transformed and were sitting on the hills of Galaxy hill, admiring the view while Roy had finally talked out his problems.

“Ah, so that's what happened.” Poli sighed with a hint of frustration. Those damn kids.. He'll be sure to speak to their parents after this ordeal. “Thank you for telling me, Roy. But you could have told me sooner.” 

“I'm sorry..” Roy looked down to his hands. “I just, don't want to worry anyone. Everyone always has this image of me being the strongest, and I just have to keep to that expected image of theirs.”

“Not true, I don't.”

“What?” Roy was rather surprised by this answer, his mouth slightly open.

“Sure, you're the strongest and can lift an entire boulder with ease. But that doesn't mean you always have to throw your feelings way like nothing. I care about you, Roy. And so does the entire team as well. We all care about you.” Poli smiled at him, a glint of appreciation in his eyes. Roy has always protected the town with such care.

And now it was his turn to take care of Roy.

Roy's mouth was about to open to say something, but he was met by an embrace from the police car.

“P-Poli, I..” A tear formed in his eye. But this was a happy one. “Thank you, Poli.” Roy hugged him back tightly, finally finding his usual warm smile plastered on his face.

“Roy, I'll be there for you, whenever and wherever.

Word count: 1090 !

➽──────────────❥

wow, this was an emotional one shot. thank you for the ask !

[starillusion13]

Four seasons of love

Pairing: Chanyeol x f! reader

Genre: Slight angst, Fluff, Slice of life

Warning: self doubt, hints of hating and willing to end life. But our big baby is there to comfort you and show that life is worth to you when you are with right person. A lot of comfort through the images of seasons. You all are precious remember it.

W.C: 4.2k+

Request from: @myyeol61

Network: @k-vanity @kvanity-main

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @yeoobin @anyamaris @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @oreharuuu

Note: I got inspired to write this from Chanyeol's solo mvs Tomorrow and SSFW. The plot is related to the songs, you can feel it while reading. Thanks again for reblogging and reviews are highly appreciated. I love you my stellars✨.

*under the cut*

Many thoughts storming through your mind. Your mind swirling like a cyclone, heart clenching and hands going numb. Nobody wants you, no one even cares for your existence. Maybe they are right that your parents left you at the orphanage because you are unwanted. Why? You never hurt anyone or being a threat to anyone. The only person you have your faiths and trust on has suddenly turned their back to you. You never thought that you have to witness a day like this too after being treated like a shit all these years. Was it not enough for you already?

“Why should I live now?”

Tilting your head back and closing the eyes, you let the raindrops fall on your face directly. Hairs are already drenched and sticking to your forehead and neck, not even caring to move the strands falling on your eyes. Numb hands growing cold under the heavy rain, eyes swollen with crying but people might mistake your eyes are red due to rain. Each falling drop getting mixed with your tears rolling down. Tears of pain? Tears of loneliness? Tears of betrayal? No. Tears of hope.

“Why can’t everyone be happy?”

You must be right. Not everyone deserves to be treated as someone’s priority. Someone has to feel the pain to let others be happy. You lightly chuckle on your own thoughts. Like always you have to be the sacrifice. Your feet move on its own and now you are standing in the middle of the road surrounded by abandoned constructed buildings. At least there are no people here to judge your every moves. Unknowingly, you spread your arms and head still facing the sky but with a little smile adorning your face.

“Can I fly alone?”

Its past safety hours at night and you are getting soaked in rain in an empty street and thinking about flying. Are you a child? Maybe only if you can be a child and someone would care about you and take you in their arms and whisper ‘Its okay. I’m here for you.’. You want someone to care for you, someone to give you the warmth you crave in your life. This cold rainy night is befriending your nightmares to make you alone, to make you feel…you are not good for anyone.

“Such a bad girl.”

Your eyes shot open on hearing the voice. Rather a very familiar teasing voice you must say. You don’t even care to look in the direction to know who the person is but let the raindrops pierce your eyes directly, making you to squint on the effect.

“If you are trying to be blind then I have some better options for you to try.”

Better option? Death. You don’t see any will to live your life. What life? To be an extra character in everyone’s story. Every individual on this planet has their own story but you must believe that you are just the extra one in their story to make give them more spotlight by increasing the sea of people.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I should have asked you the same little angel.”

Little angel. If only you could have been one then you would have done everything possible to be happy. Just be happy and away from these people who blame you for everything. You are a bad luck to everyone.

Bringing your hands to yourself, eyes fixed on the broken wooden board hanging from the wall of a building to your front. Your back still facing the person but you can feel the stares burning on you.

“I’m not in a mood for your jokes.”

“I’m asking you a question not joking. This is not your colony and also not mine but the complex there is mine and I come here often. So, what brings you here?”

“Can’t you just leave and let me be alone for once?”

Silence. That’s what you got in return. Like others, he also left. Your heart clenched on the thought and your shaking hands turned into fists by your side. Why are you feeling like this? Its not like you were appreciating his presence, or were you? At least him teasing you whole day somewhat makes you feel that someone care to spend a little bit of their time to talk to you……. To tease you maybe. With hope, hope? You turn around slowly, gaze following how each drop hitting the ground and shattering into tiny droplets. Just like your hopes to see him behind will shatter soon into pieces of disappointment, loneliness and pain.

“Chanyeol?.....”

He is still there, hands in the pocket of his hoodie and eyes boring onto your figure. You feel a bit of joy but for what, just to see him standing there? Like the way an angry mother scolding her child for being out so late. Your shocked eyes contacting with the daring eyes of his challenging self as if it’s challenging you to look away.

“You are still here…..I thought-“

“You thought like everyone else I will also leave you alone here.” His tone is monotonous, not even hinting any sort of emotions behind it, neither of caring nor even of hatred.

You nod your head obliviously.

He ‘tsch’ and shakes his head, footsteps approach you. You try to avoid the closeness, panicking you are looking everywhere to just run away from him. But deep down, you want to stay close to him, to hear his teasing voice and to make you annoyed until you glare at him and he will return you a playful wink. At least, he never made you feel alone or ever hurt you.

“Why?”

Why? It’s obvious because am not a one to waste your precious time on. You want to scream this on his face but you feel your throat becomes heavy with a lump stuck inside. You are about to break down because you can’t take this feeling that someone is waiting to hear your response. Caring for you.

“Please...go away…if you are here to tease me later for this then please go away.”

“Do I hurt you?”

“Huh?”

“Do I hurt you with my teasing?”

“I d-don’t know.”  No.

“Do I make you uncomfortable when am around you?”

No.

He paused but your lost eyes staring at him made him continue. “Do I burden you?”

No.

You want to scream but you can’t utter a single world but gazing up at him with lost swollen eyes. His warm hands cupped your cheeks. Why are his hands warm and yours cold? Oh, God has a priority.

He is also drenched but not like you for almost over an hour. His few portions of the clothing are soaked but his hairs are getting wet fully, his umbrella lying upside-down at the side of the street. Why is he getting wet despite having an umbrella?

“Do you hate me?”

No? Yes? Do you? Well, you really didn’t think of him like this way before. Do you really want him to go away? You never felt hurt because of him. Rather you enjoy his company. You don’t know whether it’s bad or not but you love his presence. His presence is the last thing that can burden you. When everyone is turning their back to you, he is the only one looking at you with mischievousness of course.

“Chanyeol...don’t ask me this.” Your fingers tightly hold his wrists but you are keeping his hands close to you, leaning to his touch more. Seeking the comfort in his warmth, you are feeling safe.

“Why?”

“I, myself don’t know how to respond you.”

The rain has stopped but the tears still keeping your eyes wet.

“Y/N, will you let me hold you like this forever? I can’t see you broken like this anymore. You don’t know how much it hurts me whenever I see you crying.”

“What are you saying?”

“Everyone breaks you down but you try to stay strong. You put on a fake smile just to lie to yourself that you are fine. But I want to see the real you.”

“I- n-no...I’m fine.”

“Really? Crying alone in the middle of the street under the heavy rain and I have to believe that you are fine like always.”

“Why are you being like this Chanyeol? I hate when people show comfort out of pity. I am used to being alone like this so just leave me and go away.”

No, please don’t go. You try to move away his hand but he doesn’t budge and his cold eyes staring deep in your orbs as if it can read the hidden truth behind those tears. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears which are rolling down. Why are you crying? He is not doing anything to you.

“This is why I never approach you to show my care. I always see you getting hate from the ones you have trusted and that’s why I wanted to be someone to you whom you will have some different kind of feelings. I didn’t want you to see me as others who is just pitying you but I wanted you to see me treating you like a regular person.”

“Different kind of feelings?”

He squeezes your cheeks and smiles at your silly face. Those dimples occurring in the end of his smile on the cheeks, your hands move upward to touch them and you can feel him lean to your touch and closing his eyes for a moment.

“Yes, puffer fish. Someone approaching you like you are a loner to their eyes and then suddenly turning their back to you when you actually started to lean on them. I never wanted that to happen between us. I wanted you to see me differently from others. So, I started to tease you and you have to agree that sometimes I have really made you laugh. Also, your glares, you think you look so angry and scary but you just look silly.”

“Yaaa.” You slap his arms and his dimples deepen when he smiles wider which brings a little smile on your lips.

And this is Chanyeol. The tease who doesn’t leave a single chance to annoy you even at this moment when you are so vulnerable and confused with your feelings. But what is the meaning of different kind of feelings?

“I wanted you to see me as an annoying person who can make you angry, frustrated, getting on your nerves so you make silly faces at me when am too much overbearing and also laugh with me on my jokes. But-“

His fingers tracing your cheekbones and big doe eyes staring at your swollen eyes.

“But?” your voice is like a whisper but he can still hear you.

“But I always try to make you forget others, how they mistreat you, how they ignore you, how they hurt you. I don’t want to see you cry over them. I want to see you smiling Y/N.”

“Why are you doing this Chanyeol?”

You are suddenly being held in a big warm hug, him holding you tightly as if you might blow away with the light breeze blowing after the heavy rain. Your body shivers due to the weather but his warm hug feels so comfortable and you wrap your arms around his big frame. Can you provide him the same warmth back?

“I can’t see you like this Y/N. Please let me be a part of your life. Please.”

Your body again shivers to the wind and he retreats from the hug. A part of your life? Which life? The one you don’t even know what is the use of its existence where everyone knows just to hurt you and ignore you.

“Y/N?”

“Hmmm….”

“Let’s go home. You will catch cold like this.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

Why? The place where you feel secure, away from all the judging eyes but suffocating yourself with the thousand thoughts within those four walls of your apartment.

He suddenly picks you up in his arms, your shocked face getting a chuckle and wide smile from him.

“What are you doing? Put me down.”

“Well, if you don’t go by your own then I’m taking you like this.”

“Yaaa put me down. You don’t even know my place and if I start to shout right now, you will really be accused for kidnapping.”

“Hm that’s right but I can say that someone was trying to end her life and I am just being her saviour. Also, I’m taking you to my place so please keep quiet and let’s go before you really die of this cold.”

Die? Yes, but will you be really okay after that?

“No. I will not go with you.”

“And I’m not leaving you here.”

“Chanyeol….”

“Please Y/N.” His creased forehead and serious look urging you to agree with him.

You nod but still your thoughts are running as why you are trusting him so much. If tomorrow like others he will also leave you.Then? He will act as a stranger to you. He will avoid you as if today never happened between you two. His teasing will stop and he will hate you because he has seen you vulnerable so many times. You have cried in front of him many times but why you always show this side to him even when you had a boyfriend. Well, that shit was only there for you for a bet and just left you alone in the darkness when you were taking things too seriously according to him. How foolish of you! You thought he was the perfect one.

But this feeling being in Chanyeol’s arms and feeling safe and having the warm comfort, you never had this with your boyfriend and this thought is really disturbing you.

“Chanyeol…” He looks down at you when he enters the complex building to make his way towards the elevator. “Why?”

“What?”

“Are you really caring for me because we are…..we know each other?”

Pressing the twelfth floor by his elbow, he nods to himself.

“Because you are my four seasons of love.”

“Huh?” Your confused face only got a tight smile from him. You ask him again but he didn’t say anything instead waiting for the floor. You thanked mentally that other people didn’t get in and see you like this even when you tried to make him put you down but his teasing was the only thing keeping you distracted. Ding! You have arrived to the floor.

 He puts you down but still holding your one hand, the other one unlocking the door. With a pull, he lets you inside the apartment and locking the door behind. Your eyes taking in the new environment, each and every piece of decoration screaming richness, looking around the way, your eyes caught a photo frame of a family picture. You didn’t notice when he left you there wandering on your own, returns with a towel in his hand.

“Is that your family?”

“Yes. That’s our last picture which we clicked when I was in middle school.”

Oh! Suddenly you feel him put the towel on your head and starts rubbing the scalp and hair. You try to stop him and insist that you can do it yourself but he doesn’t budge and continues. After having satisfied with your somewhat dried hairs, he gives you a pair of spare clothes to change into but your hesitating self is not willing to do it in someone’s apartment.

“Are you really going to stand here in these clothes? It’s already raining again and I don’t think it will be nice for you to go at this hour. I will not let you go even if you put your rebellious acts.”

“But I can wait until it stops raining.”

“You will let your clothes get dry on you? No way, I don’t want someone to fall sick in my place.”

“Its okay.”

“Do you want me to change your clothes or what?”

“Yaaa chanyeol.”

You hit his arm earning a loud laugh from him and he pat your cheeks directing you to his bedroom to use the personal bathroom and he will use the other one. After getting freshen up, when you make your way towards the living room, he is standing by the wide glass window showing the blurry city view behind the window because of raindrops hitting the glass.

“What are you doing there?”

He is in black t-shirt with matching trousers and hairs damp after shower and you in similar grey set but of his size. He turns around and scans your form which makes you a bit self-conscious. And man, he suddenly starts laughing holding his stomach which brings a frown on your face.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You look so funny in my clothes. Yo-you look like a kitten got dumped under a pile of clothes.”

You go beside him to take a peek at outside because you love to watch such views in rainy days. You shoot him a glare when he pinches your cheek between his laugh.

“It’s not my fault that you are literally a giraffe.”

If there was no rain then the city might look so silent from up here, right? If I have lived somewhere like this, I would have got a better life, right?

You feel arms wrap around from your back and him resting his chin on top of your head. Your stiff body and lost eyes watching the reflection of yours on the blurry window that how much height difference you both have.

“I love you Y/N.”

Love you? Is he teasing you again? If yes or if no, in both the cases, he should not love you because, you don’t want him to turn his back too when he will be bored of you. You don’t want to lose him too.

“Don’t. You should not love me. One day you will also get tired of me and leave me broken. So, it’s better how we are now with each other. Like just…friends.”

“Don’t you want to hear my answers to your question?”

“Which one?”

“Why you are my four seasons of love?”

“Hm…Tell me.” Your fingers tracing some patterns on the glass against each raindrop hitting the frame.

“Tell me the sequence of seasons.”

“Ummm Spring Summer Fall Winter?”

“Yup. I love you differently in every four seasons so I cant ever get tired to love you.”

“What?”

“Let’s start with spring. The season of love, the blooming start of every individual, every life and every relationship. We can start our first love in the spring when there will be bright sunlight with birds chirping as if a melody playing for our bond. Holding hands under the cherry blossom while knowing each other for the first time. The joy, love and beginning of our life will be in this season. Every year this season will be the start to our love from the beginning.”

“Summer?”

“Summer is the season of explore, when our love will take the centre of the stage. The clear sky with blazing sun and warm breeze hitting our skin making us feel to be loved by each other. A warm love between us where we can explore into each other’s depth like the way the whole world gets explored by the bright sunlight. We will travel together, explore the life and our love. The bond between us can be taken to a different stage where the only spotlight will be on our romance.”

“Fall? Will our love fall here?”

“No. The beginning of fall is with rainy days when we can have our breakdowns. Don’t think it as fall, see it as autumn. We can show our vulnerable selves towards each other without any hesitation. The grey clouds making the atmosphere dark and gloomy, the falling leaves from the living trees making it seem like a dead. Our relationship should show all its fault in front of our eyes. No one is perfect but our imperfectness makes each one of us unique and an individual to stand out otherwise we all would have considered same. We can cry with the rain, we can fail in our life but we will again stand on our feet the next day holding each other.”

“Winter?…..”

You can feel him nuzzling his nose into your damp hairs inhaling his shampoo, a smile ghosting over his face. Your one hand still busy on the glass while the other one takes a hold of his hand around you. A wave of comfort and warmth spreading over your body. You can sense yourself being held in safe hands, protected from this whole cruel world and him describing you why you should let him to love you. But winter, the cold environment when every relationship drifts apart because of the numbness in their bond. Will it happen to you too?

“Winter. Well, the season of festive. The most romantic season when we can make more love with each other, we will support our decisions, will spend time together. When the whole world will be under the thick cold white blanket of snow, we will find the warmth in each other. The season when we can share our most hidden secrets and light up mysteries hidden in the cold darkness of our life. We will solve our problems and make love with joy in the festivals like Christmas eve and new year. We can also have one more thing.”

“One more thing?”

He turns you around, caging your body between his warm frame and cold window frame. His hands resting beside each side of your face. His big doe eyes watching your every reaction on the face with a sly smile resting on his face and his dimple again making an appearance. Your hands on the window space keeping your balance leaning backward due to his close proximity. He leans forward to whisper in your ears.

“Winter is also known as the cuffing season. Maybe, we can plan our future in some other ways.”

Your big round shock eyes earn a wide smirk on his face. He laughs when you hit his arms and try to move away but he holds you in the place with a soft look and an admiration in his eyes. As if you are the most precious aspect of his life which is resting in front of his eyes.

“Let me love you, Y/N.”

“Chanyeol. What if I don’t deserve you?”

“We don’t know ourselves what we deserve or not but we can give chances until we lose hope on everything. And I don’t want you to lose hope on me. Please don’t leave me.”

Leave him? This is the first time, someone is asking you not to leave them and you are sure you are not going to do the same thing like others did to you. With a last glance on his face, you hug him catching him off guard but he quickly returns you the hug. His cologne hitting your nose strongly and a spell of hope surrounding you both. His heart beating against your ears bringing a melody of love and your heart matching the beats. Your fingers curling to grab his t-shirt in your tight fist. Tears rolling down your cheeks and his hands moving up and down in your back to soothe your nerves with overwhelming feelings.

“Thank you Chanyeol. I love you.”

 “I love you more angel.”

He pulls you away to press a soft kiss on your temple, on your eyes, on the tip of your nose and then pauses. Your heart racing with every kiss from his warm lips. With your closed eyes, you nod to him.

He closes the distance between your lips. Holding the back of your head and the other resting on your cheeks, he deepens the kiss. A passionate kiss for a blooming love. This is a perfect kiss like a dance, a symphony of lips and chance for a new beginning. A moment where time stands still and all the world is hushed and still. The outside loud cold rain is blocked by the window pane for the silent warm love inside. Only lips, no tongue, no other skin as if only the lips can swallow each other to protect them in a cage.

Breaking apart from the kiss, his forehead rest against yours and he presses a soft kiss on your nose. A genuine smile filled with joy dancing on your lips and he smiles back to you. Fingers wiping the fallen tears which are drying on your cheeks.

“I love to see you smile when it is raining.”

“I love to see your dimples when you smile.”

“And my teasing?”

“Chanyeol…..” you whine on his ask.

“You will always be my four seasons of love.”

Standing close to each other, in a warm embrace of love and the cold rain making the whole city gloomy except where you both found each other’s happiness and love. Each drop of your loneliness, pain and disappointment is breaking down into love, joy and hope.

Your smile is the umbrella for you under the rain and the sound of falling rain is the rhythm to your life and he is the sunshine to make you dance in the rain. Yes, you are his four seasons of love and.

“You will be my sunshine in every season.”

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