#prompt moon

[drgstore]

dysfunctional husbands

[witchybittyboo]

Welcome to Celestial Crossing (god this took too long to make)

[smokbeast]

”Googly Eyes”

#dcatober24 day 3

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Al Ghul Twins: the Sun and the Moon

Polar opposites of each other, the Demon Twins. They like to pretend as each other from time to time, or, other times, they like acting perfectly in sync, like the creepy horror twins they are.

The titles first start when someone calls Danny the Shadow of the Moon. Never seen, never noticed, never given much thought until suddenly it's too late. Danny laughs and says that Damian is the Moon, then - his Moon, always orbiting around. Damian rolls his eyes.

Over time, the titles change and shift, gaining more meaning. More weight behind them.

When Talia introduces Bruce to the twins, she calls them her Sun and Moon. Bruce mentions it to the rest of the kids once, and they adopt it. It seems logical, really.

Danny, the Sun, smiling and laughing, eager for affection and never one to back down from hugs. Damian, the Moon, distant and reserved, keeping to himself and cold at times.

It's only months later, when they mention it in Jason's presence, that he laughs at them.

They have it all wrong, as it turns out. Not only because the titles have nothing to do with the twins' characters.

The Sun, fierce, bright and unrelenting, the heat that will wear you down to exhaustion, the fire and flames of rage, the star that everything centers around. The mirage in the desert, the power that bows to no one, never to be ignored.

The Moon, distant, cold, and unassuming, the pull of the tide, the only light in the darkness, causing shadows to seem so much darker, the harbinger of nightmares. The faint presence in the evening skies, the howl of a wolf, the influence you can easily ignore until suddenly you can't afford to.

Damian, the Sun, rash and quick to act on impulse, leaving a burning path in his wake. Danny, the Moon, silent and almost gentle, who you won't notice until it's too late.

Consider yourself lucky if you are left with only a scorch when you come too close to the Sun because he can, and he will burn you to ashes if he desires. But with the Moon, you are in luck if he kills you. Because when he doesn't, the shadows creep closer, crawling behind your back, and you keep looking around, knowing that the strike will come but not knowing when.

Danny laughs, quips, and plays pranks, but his eyes are cold like the lake frozen solid. Damian scolds, clicks his tongue, and brushes you off, but his eyes are full of fire that never dies out.

Talia's eyes are dark and full of secrets, like she herself is full of carefully wrapped lies and dark corners. The Demon Twins call her their Sky: vast and unknown, charming and stealing your breath away until there's no air in your lungs and the stars dim before your eyes.

A few years pass, and Tim catches Danny referring to Bats as their Stars. He thinks it's because there's so many of them that the twins just decided to summarize the titles, but much later, he learns that the meaning is a lot more poetic.

The light that guides you through the night, which, unlike the moon, never goes away.

[human-rocket]

Obi-Wan training/being a master to Ahsoka | for @shehungthemoon

⊹ ✦ my art | tip jar ✦ ⊹

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

→ premise: it was meant to be just a simple quick visit to your sweet boyfriend at work, a regular thing on your days off, something steven looked forward to. especially when the both of you snuck off to the bathroom.

→ pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, against the wall sex, bathroom sex so semi-public sex, creampie, nicknames [baby, love, darling]

→ a/n: kinktober 11

It was merely meant to be a short visit to Steven, your lovely boyfriend, at his job in the gift shop. You just missed him and wanted to see him, you didn't intend for it to end with the two of you sneaking off the bathroom.

“Darling I really need to get back to work, my boss won't like that I'm gone so long” he groaned out, his voice soft as his breath fanned across the back of your neck. His body betrays his words however as he makes no move to stop pinning you against the bathroom wall. His hands grab onto your hips as he drills into form behind. Your chest up against the cold tile wall, your hips bouncing off of his making a slapping sound that filled the echoey bathroom alongside your whines. Your knees grow weaker and weaker the closer you get and the faster and harder Steven thrusts inside you. “Mm baby please just a little longer im s’close” you whimper out about too loudly, the words slurred as your head was going hazier from the pleasure.

Steven's large hands leave your hips, one comes up to cup over your mouth muffling your loud moans, the other drifts between where your bodies are connected and rubs at your clit. “As heavenly as you sound love you‘re gonna get me fired if you aren't quieter” his voice trembles as he can feel you clench around him in response to him silencing you. His eyes screw shut in bliss as he can feel your cunt trying to milk his release from his aching cock. “Gonna cum baby oh fuck-” your words come out mumbled and broken from beneath his hand though Steven can hear you enough to understand.

“Cum for me darling” he moans out, his hips speeding up even faster trying to push you right over that edge. His cock hitting just right deep inside you and his thumb playing with your bundle of nerves you cum hard on his cock. Biting your lip to help further muffle the wanton moan that threatens to escape, it comes out as a strangled desperate whine instead. “Good girl baby, fuck im gonna cum okay love?” He grunts out as his hips falter in rmyth fucking you through your high. With an almost pathetic sounding whine leaving his lips, Steven’s orgasm hit him, shooting hot ropes of cum inside you. After a minute or two when the both of you catch your breath he slowly pulls out, the mixture of his cum and your own leak out of you, trailing down your thigh.

“Maybe you should visit me at work more often darling” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss at your exposed shoulder. You smile sweetly at him as he quickly works at cleaning you up best he can before he goes back off to work with a short but loving goodbye kiss.

→ a/n: i have never written for steven, this is really short and kinda ass as i rushed it cause its like 2 days later than when i wanted to post this, im trying to get back on track and not fall further behind so there will hopefully be another kinktober day posted today as well.

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 341

Danny sighs as the sound of a falling shelf reaches him, quickly followed by twin snarls. He takes a breath, even if he hasn’t needed to breathe since he was fourteen, and counts to ten as he pauses in making dinner. 

“Ellie, Dan, what’ve I said about throwing each other into the shelves-” 

He stops as he comes to the living room doorway, both of the gremlins freezing mid-stuffing an unconscious vigilante out the window, feathers puffed up. Dear Ancients he does not want to deal with this today, but it’s not like life ever cared about what he wants in any situation. 

“Elnath, Jordan, you better not be about to toss that person out the window-” 

[moon-ttokki-x]

HIII MY LOVE

i was just wondering if you could do something with a foreigner!reader, who doesn’t speak korean, with han?? where they have a hard time communicating but they still wanna be together??

(btw if you have anons can i be 🪻??)

hi, love~ this was so cute, really interesting to write . this took a while but it was so worth it hehe . yes you can, my first emoji anon yayy . here you go~~

i want to understand you - (han jisung x female!reader)

pairing: idol!han jisung x female!reader

summary: the language barrier between you and jisung stops your true feelings from being communicated.

genre: angsty but happy ending, idol!au, reader is a stylist, mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, bandages, antiseptics, broken glass, jisung doesn't like being injured, chan's iconic smirk comeback, hints to chanlix and minsung, mentions of wrestling, kissing, nothing too intense i promise

a/n: this is one of my fav fics that i've written tbh . everything in bold + italic is spoken in korean. just a note !

skz masterlist

"How long have you been watching him?" Felix whispers into your ear.

"Huh?"

He smirks, nodding his head towards Jisung, who's currently messing about on set with Minho. "You've been watching him."

You scoff and push him away. "No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

Groaning, you brush past Felix and wander past the cameras to the other side of the MV set. It's almost midday; the sun beats down relentlessly on the pavements outside, bathing everything in a bright glow, but inside the warehouse, the lights are dimmed in shades of red, green and white, casting an eerie palette over the broken glass and haphazard items scattered about the dusty floor.

Your eyes wander to one of the camera tripods; 'ESCAPE FILMING' is written on a piece of masking tape and stuck to the side. Your gaze flits to Chan and Hyunjin; both of them are raggedy, slender figures in heavy coats and coarse clothing. They're busy talking to their manager; you duck off to the side and run straight into Felix again.

You groan. "Go away."

"Come on," he murmurs. "Go talk to him."

It's been almost a month since you took the job as a stylist with JYPE; it had been interesting, to say the least. The members took to you immediately, teasing and friendly within a couple of days. You were in awe; they were such professionals you'd been assigned to work around, but one of them had caught your eye.

Jisung.

You feel your cheeks warm as you watch him; Felix is motionless beside you, no doubt smirking, but your heart sinks as you hear the distant lilt of excitable Korean floating over the set to your ears.

"Y/n, go," Felix insists. "Talk to him."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" You whip around to face him. "I don't speak Korean, and he doesn't know enough English to be fluent in a conversation with me."

"He sings in English," Felix points out, adjusting the cuff of his hoodie. His black cap- Chan's cap- sits low on his head.

"That's because he has you and Chan to help him." You groan.

This would be so much easier if the rest of the members weren't here. You wonder what they're here for, anyway; they said they came to support Chan and Hyunjin while they filmed their music video, but you have a sneaking suspicion it was just to get out of an extra dance practice Chan scheduled for the remaining members while he was away. No doubt the maknaes' idea.

You'd fought to stay focused on doing Hyunjin's makeup that same morning; he hadn't missed the way your hand shook around your eyeshadow brush when Jisung had breezed in with a cheerful shout. If Hyunjin had noticed, he hadn't said anything, and the resulting makeup look had thankfully turned out just fine.

"Y/n."

You whip around so fast your neck hurts, and you almost trip over your own feet as you come face-to-face with Jisung. He's dressed casually, as most of the members are; his grey zip hoodie is slightly dusty, loose black jeans showing a peek of startingly white shoes beneath their hems.

His face is bare, void of makeup, and you can see the healthy pink flush on his cheekbones and the tip of his nose. His lashes blink away strands of un-styled, dark hair falling into his face; he sweeps it back effortlessly with two fingers, and his wide eyes fix themselves onto your own, a cheerful grin painting his lips.

You look around wildly for Felix to save you; he's conveniently disappeared into thin air, and you curse inwardly as you're forced to face Jisung once more. There's nowhere to run.

"Hi." Your voice sounds thin and awkward.

"Hi." He replies, an equally awkward but adorable smile curving his mouth further. Even the simple syllable sounds odd and unfamiliar to him, it seems. Tinged with his accent, the sound coming out of his mouth looks like he tasted something unusual; new and curious, but strange.

Foreign.

You stutter, unable to comprise a singular sentence. Even if you were able to at the moment, it's unlikely Jisung will understand. The past few interactions with him have shown you that.

You try anyway. "Did you need something?"

He blinks. Takes apart each word in his mind, turns his cognitive gears, and a dawning sense of confusion appears on his face despite the effort to understand. "Chan-hyung ruined his makeup again. He's busy with his outfit, but he sent me to ask you if you could quickly touch it up for him? If you're not busy..."

You're running, sprinting even, to keep up with Jisung's rapid pace of speaking. Korean tumbles out of his mouth in a smooth waterfall, each word naturally clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle.

For you, though, it's like looking at the completed picture upside down. It just doesn't make sense, and you can't tell what's he's asking by his tone like you have before.

"Chan?" You say, questioning. It was the only word you caught.

He nods once, then faster. "His makeup." He points to his leader, a distance away, who is redoing his belt and pulling on his coarse jacket for the next scene.

Jisung points to Chan again, then to his own face. He points to the crossbody bag across your waist, full of your stylist tools, and mimes swiping a brush across his cheeks.

"Oh," you say. "His makeup?"

Jisung nods frantically. You fight a smile; makeup and snacks are the only English words he seems to understand at the moment. Couldn't say you wouldn't have been the same way.

You nod once to him and awkwardly brush past him to go to Chan.

Jisung watches you go.

Chan turns round as you approach, bowing sheepishly as you pull several brushes and a chrome palette from your bag.

"Sorry for ruining it," he says as he closes his eyes. You chuckle and redo the look with a few simple strokes, and step back to make sure it's neat. You swipe a pinky across his cheekbone to remove any excess. "I saw you and Jisung talking."

You sigh. "Wasn't really talking. More..."

"Confusion?" Chan offers with a smile.

You poke him in the side and he shies away, grinning. "How long were you watching us?"

He shrugs casually, looking away. "The whole time."

You groan, cheeks flushing as he laughs. "I wish I could speak Korean fluently... Learning it takes so long, and there aren't any translating apps I can use on a day-to-day basis."

Chan does look at you then, expression empathetic. "I know it's inconvenient, Y/n, but you're making progress. Just keep at it, and while you and Jisung are both learning each other's languages, it'll become easier to communicate over time."

You look towards Jisung, who's currently reenacting the wrestling scene with Seungmin. Rapid, unfamiliar words tumble from the members' mouths at the speed of light as they laugh and clap, and you smile as Jisung emerges from underneath Seungmin with his dark hair covered in feathers.

You sigh. "I hope so."

Chan sighs, touching your shoulder in reassurance. Looking past you, he gazes fondly over the seven members, unaware of you both watching them, and chuckles. "I thought Hyunjin and I were gonna get this music video filming done fast, but... apparently not."

You smile. "I don't think they were too fond of having to do extra practice while you were away."

Chan rolls his eyes and you laugh as he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it further. There's a yelp from behind you, and Chan whips around, faster than lightning. The members have gone silent.

You're both just in time to see Jisung fall off the mattress. His hand scrapes awkwardly along the floor, where tiny fragments of glass from the stunt filming earlier scatter throughout the dust. A deep red line opens up along his forearm, and Chan swears before dashing to his side.

You come up behind Felix, calling to one of the crew members to find a tissue and water as Chan sits Jisung down properly on the mattress, brushing aside feathers.

"Are you okay?" Chan asks in worry, cradling his member's hand.

Jisung winces as a wet rivulet of blood drops onto the floor. The rest of the boys burst into concerned murmurs, jostling to see. You push past Minho with a pack of tissues, handing them to Chan. Cracking open the top of a water bottle, you dampen the centre of a folded piece of tissue and dab it gently along Jisung's forearm. He groans and attempts to pull away, but his leader holds his arm firmly, murmuring reassurance.

"There's a spare room down one of the warehouse corridors," you say to Chan. "I went there earlier to set my things up. There's a first aid kit in there."

"Is there no one on set with one already?" He says, strained. You bite your lip and look to the crew, who all look away, seemingly distracted.

Chan actually growls then, making you recoil, and mutters something that might have either been a string of expletives or a complaint about crew disorganisation.

You suppose his reaction is justified either way.

Folding the water-damp, bloodied tissue, you tuck it into your pocket and stand up. "I can take him to the room there and clean the cut," you offer. "Might be easier without all the glass around."

Chan nods, holding a hand to Jisung to stand up. "I can come with both of you-"

"No," you say firmly. "Focus on filming with Hyunjin. It's getting late and I know both of you want to be done with it. I'll take care of him."

Chan bites his lip in anxiety, clearly struggling to make the decision between staying on set and going with Jisung, but Hyunjin puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get the rest of the shots done, Chan-hyung," he says. "Y/n is more than capable of taking care of the injury."

You blink, not understanding, but it seems to be enough to reassure Chan, who nods and turns away. Hyunjin follows him, and the rest of the members meekly disperse behind the cameras, far quieter than before.

You wind between crew members and filming equipment before heading down the main back corridor of the warehouse, where a spare room splits off into four smaller rooms down the way. Heading into the second door on the right, you hold the door open for Jisung before pulling out the first aid kit from a duffel bag.

You point to a chair as he closes the door. The metal of the knob is scarlet as he lets go. "Sit."

He sits and you place the kit on the cabinet, unzipping a pouch and pulling out a bandage, an antiseptic wipe, and another pack of tissues. Trying to ignore your hands shaking as you do so, you feel your cheeks warm as Jisung shuffles on the chair, a muffled disturbance in the sudden stillness of the room.

You're alone with him.

Biting your lip in an all-too-aware consciousness of the situation, you pull a chair to sit next to him, setting down the items on the plastic table. He rests his arm on the surface as you rip open the antiseptic packet, and then pause.

Gingerly, you place a light hand on his wrist and pull his forearm closer to you, beginning to gently swipe the wet wipe across the cut. A faint smell of chemical rises in the air, and Jisung discreetly exhales, making you crack a tiny smile.

His forearm is tense; you can see the stress of the situation, visible in his body language. The wipe clearly stings him, becoming redder by the minute. He lets out a tiny start, obviously fighting to keep quiet.

You can see him beginning to squirm, his bottom lip caught flush between his teeth as he chews on it in distress.

"Jisung," you say softly, pausing the cleaning to give him a break. "It's okay. You're doing well."

He doesn't respond, focused on the wound. Then, taking a deep breath, his wide eyes meet yours and he gives a tiny nod, signalling for you to continue.

You've cleaned about half of the injury's surrounding area; feeling unbelievably bold, you stroke a gentle thumb across the inside of his wrist as you swipe scarlet off his bare skin, attempting to calm him. He relaxes suddenly, and the exhale of a deeply-held breath fans lightly across your face, stirring your hair. It does nothing to cool the tension building between the both of you.

You fumble to stuff the used, damp wipe back into the packet. Jisung's eyes follow you intently; he seems to have recovered from the initial shock of injury.

He watches curiously as you tilt your head to the side, inspecting the cut, before unravelling a length of a clean rolled bandage. You lay it flat on the clean table before unwrapping four sheets of fluffy gauze, laying it on top. You undo the top off of a small tube of ointment.

"What's that?" He says.

There's a clear question in his tone; taking a wild guess, you hold up the tube. He nods.

"This? Ointment. It's to keep the wound moist," you reply. You're not sure why you bothered; he doesn't understand it anyway, and he just nods politely before continuing to gaze at the tube, most likely attempting to piece its use together in his head.

You let out a tiny sigh, almost fuming at the inconvenience of it all. You want to talk to him, understand him. But you keep quiet, clamp it down, and continue to smear the cream gently across the wound edges with a finger.

He's no longer watching the application of the cream, though; his gaze is fixed intently on your face, as if he's trying to see through you to the other side of the room. You know he's watching; you can feel his eyes burning into you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to keep composure.

"Y/n," he says softly.

You gulp and look up, pausing your ministrations. He tilts his head to the side, a strange look taking over his features. It's no secret to either of you that you can't understand the other; it seemed to you that Jisung was just never as bothered by the language barrier as you were.

Apparently not.

"Thank you for taking care of me," he says simply. Taking a deep breath, he hopes inwardly that you haven't learnt too much Korean yet, and continues to talk. "I wish I could speak more English, enough for us to communicate. I'm sorry I never told you that before. I know it makes you sad."

Silence.

"I don't know what you're saying," you murmur softly, a look of longing and resignation taking over your expression.

"I don't understand you."

You lean one hand under your head. "I wish we could communicate."

"I wish we could talk properly... This is so frustrating."

Sighing and giving up completely, you tap his wrist, and he brings it closer to you so you can wrap the injury. Delicately placing the gauze sheets along the cut, you begin to firmly wrap the bandage around his forearm, taking care not to cut off his circulation in the process. Securing the bandage with a clip, you stand and begin to dispose of the packets and tissues.

Jisung stands too, unsure, like he's waiting for direction. He opens his mouth to say something, but your thoughts are beginning to run away with you, and you speak them aloud before he has a chance to say anything.

"I wonder what things would have been like if we both spoke the same language." You throw the packets in the bin.

Jisung seems to be lost in his own thoughts too. "Maybe I could ask one of my hyungs to teach me English... or Hyunjin! He knows English too! He might be able to help..."

Yet again, the names of one of his members is the only word you can recognise amongst his rapid-fire speech.

"Hyunjin?" You say. "What about him? Did- should I go get him?" You groan in exasperation and throw your hands out, knocking the ointment off the cabinet from where you've just set it down. "What are you asking for?"

"Sorry, I don't know what you're upset about, but maybe I can ask Chan-hyung and Hyunjin for advice on what to do... Unless you've already talked to them..."

"I bet you'd sound so different talking in English," you're beginning to fume, and you feel bad, because none of this is Jisung's fault. He's Korean, he speaks it, so why are you getting so upset about not being able to communicate through the same language?

Both of you are practically talking to yourselves now; Jisung is clearly lost on another planet, seemingly recovered from the injury. You're beginning to feel yourself sink, no longer nervous around him. Now, you just feel a desperate longing.

To talk. Actually talk.

"Changbin-hyung told me that you don't speak much Korean, but maybe I could teach you? Ah, that wouldn't work, because I'd have to teach you in English first..."

You bite your lip. A dangerous thought crosses your conscience; you could just tell him. About how you feel. He might not even know what you're talking about. He probably won't.

Hopefully.

You decide to risk it. Even if he does understand, you can easily play it off as a translating mistake on his part. No worries.

"Jisung," you say cautiously.

He snaps out of his endless train of thought, and locks his gaze with yours. Like a soldier called to attention.

"Y/n," he says cheekily, though you can see his confident demeanour faltering.

"I really want to be able to talk with you," you continue. "Properly. But maybe it's a good thing we can't understand each other. I can say I love you without you understanding... Gosh, Hyunjin would have a field day making fun of us idiots. Not being able to communicate..."

Jisung blinks. Once. Twice. You see the flutter of his lashes, the cogs turning in his head, and then, very hesitantly, he steps closer. Like you're a wild animal he's trying not to spook.

You take a step back. He takes another forward.

So you step back again. Your back hits the cabinet.

Shit.

Jisung cocks his head; he looks exactly like his quokka counterpart. You blink as he frowns suddenly, then presses his hands together, slipping his fingers in a pattern over the newly wrapped bandage on his forearm.

Around and around and around. And then-

"You love Hyunjin?" Even without understanding, his tone is incredulous. Disbelieving.

"What about Hyunjin?" You say in confusion. "Clearly I've done something wrong, as your tone is telling me, but what does he have to do with it?"

Jisung groans, frustrated. "All this time. I was so happy you came to help me... I thought there might have been something between you and me, but you were just being helpful. Hyunjin, of all people."

You huff. "You keep saying 'Hyunjin' and yet, I still have no idea what you're saying."

Jisung scoffs. "Okay, relax! You don't need to keep talking about how much you love him! I get it... Damn, I'm stupid."

"...Well, you stopped saying his name, but I still don't know what you're talking about, Jisung."

"I wish I could understand you, Y/n."

"I wish you loved me."

"I want to know you. I would never let anyone hurt you, ever... But clearly, I'm not fit for it... I can't even put together a sentence in your language. How am I supposed to love you when I can't even do that?"

Your voices are rising at this point, swelling to fit the room. They mix in the air and rain down in shards, sparkling shards of glass that seem to hurt more than Jisung's forearm injury did.

Every glittering remnant makes your eyes sting until you feel a salty wetness coating your cheeks. The frustration is spilling out of you, the unfairness and utter inconvenience of it all drowning you in tumultuous, crashing waves until you are swept under the dark, powerful current, falling and falling and clawing upwards to air, to breathe, to him, but it doesn't work.

"Why can't things just be easy for once?" You cry out at him. He jolts, taken aback. "I just want to love someone, and here you are, yet I can't even tell you that I love you. I love you, Jisung, and you'll never, ever understand, and it's all my fault because I don't know any Korean enough to talk to you."

He's frozen. Pale as a ghost. And then the colour rises so fast to his face that you step forward, afraid that he might collapse or pass out or experience some other type of wildly unexpected medical occurrence that would probably make your current situation even more upsetting than it already is. If that's even possible.

"Me?" He says. His voice is shaky, strained. "You love me? Not Hyunjin?"

"Fuck, Jisung, this has nothing to do with Hyunjin. Forget about him, I'm talking about you. You might as well know since we can't fucking communicate. Do you even know what I just said, or do I just sound like an angry chicken?"

A look of understanding begins to dawn incredibly slowly on his face. He points to himself, in disbelief but still rather unsure about what you're saying. "Me?"

"Yes, you, you absolute idiot. Shit."

Jisung looks at his hands, then points to himself. He cups his hands and shakily rearranges his fingers, making a comical depiction of a heart. "You?"

"That is the most shit heart I've ever seen you make," you huff. You point to yourself, dramatically enunciating as if he was a child unable to understand anything more than the colour of the sky.

"I." You jab a finger repetitively into your chest.

"Love.." You make a heart, bending your index fingers and pushing your hands towards him. Like he could just take your love the way something might take a glass of water offered to them.

"You," you stab a finger in the air again and again, pointing to him. There's no way he's confused now.

He's still standing there, eyebrows raised, confused and in disbelief. Your mind whirrs.

How can I possibly make this any clearer? I don't know what else I'm supposed to do now... Maybe I should just brush it off and give up. The others must be wondering where we are. Hey, I bet Chan and Hyunjin are finally done filming-

Jisung's mouth crashes desperately onto yours.

Your back throbs as it's pressed against the cabinet; his chest bumps yours and your hands fly to his shoulders, clutching him as if you're drowning. A gasp slips out of your mouth before it's swallowed up; Jisung tilts his head and it's all you can do not to let your knees buckle under him.

You can feel his hair tickling your forehead as he gulps in half a breath of air, so soft, so impossibly soft, like pinfeathers under your fingers just as you'd imagined it to be. You tug him back in, gripping the neckline of his hoodie, trying to make him realise, trying to communicate everything you've been saying without saying anything at all.

He doesn't seem to care about the injury on his arm anymore, and one hand moves to cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. He's not just kissing you, he's pouring thousands upon thousands of words into you, words he can't ever hope to tell you and words you won't ever understand.

But you do understand.

He pulls back, gasping. Your foreheads bump clumsily against each other's and he holds you fast, panting.

"Jisung," you gasp.

"Y/n," he replies breathlessly. "I love you. I love you."

You finally have some clue as to what he's saying. "I love you too."

He nods frantically, his nose brushing your cheek as he nuzzles into your neck, so hard it almost hurts. But you can't find it in yourself to care, returning the crushing affection with as much strength as you can muster, fuelled by relief and love and irrevocable joy and Jisung.

The hasty explanation of your feelings all this time evaporates off your tongue, burning into ash. You sweep it into a corner of your mind and dust the rest off Jisung's shoulders.

Chan clears his throat.

Both you and Jisung spring apart as if burned. Chan stands in the doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the frame. There's a delighted smirk painted across his face, the remainder of his dark, raw makeup smudged and faded. There's a feather in his hair, and he regards the two of you with a cool stare.

"So," he says slowly, clearly fighting the urge to tease. He speaks in English and Korean, so that both of you can understand.

Chan adjusts his coarse jacket. "Did you two finally manage to communicate? Did you finally manage to talk properly?"

Jisung grins.

a/n: div by @aquazero

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[fangirlingpuggle]

Another Apothecary diaries AU/fic prompt of arranged marriage Jinmao.

AU starts is same as previous post where Fengxian and Lakan are reunited before he leaves and she stays with Luomen until he returns and he still becomes family head with Lahan and Maomao raised as siblings.

However in this AU one major difference that as children Jinshi and Maomao meet and an arranged marriage is set up, Lakan isn't happy (even the prince isn't worthy of his daughter) Fengxian sees as an opportunity besides if Maomao isn't happy after she has plans.

Maomao ends up getting kidnapped because she's still out getting herbs for some medicine she's working on, she's sold to rear palace but doesn't say anything because she knows marriage is upcoming and this is a way to not get married.

Story goes on with little changes only these 2 not realizing they are falling for the person they're engaged to and trying to figure out how to get out of the arranged marriage.

Everyone else is just watching on wondering how long it'll be before they actually figure it out.

The only time they'd seen each other they were in so much garb and make out that they don't realizing each other. The two seeing each other again all made up and regal and just freezing as realization slowly...very slowly sets in. It's basically the spider man pointing meme.

Bonus

2 don't realize gets to ceremony the 2 are heartbroken thinking going to marry someone they don't know and it's pony when they see each other then that they realize.

[carp3tpasta]

Day 2 & 6

(Pls click for better quality)

[emacrow]

Danyal's favorite animal was a moon rabbit.

Anything or any creature related to space was automatically his most favorite to talk about when they were together in their hidden sanctuary away from the League of assassins training.

His favorite was to comparing the stories of the moon rabbit, even carving a a couple rabbits on the moon on the wall of their hidden place.

That danyal sometimes dream about flying with white hair around the moon playing with some fluffy moon rabbits despite it being a silly dream even if it felt real.. Damian like that dream after Danyal tell him how fluffy and soft the rabbit; even better then silk, Dami!

Then that day came when they were both on a separate mission across the states at the age of 8, only danyal never came back from Illinois.

That his mother say he was Disposed of for not completing the mission, and told him to not mention the useless failure ever...

Damian couldn't say anything after returning to thei-his room only to see a single bed in the middle instead of two in each corner, and everything belonging to danyal gone completely.

But he was angry, deep seething angry and upset inside. Danyal was not a failure. He was not a useless tool to be just thrown away after his usefulness was over. He was his brother, his brother that wanted to go to space, to the moon and to see the moon rabbits living there..

Then he was sent to go find his father, The batman of the night, after grandfather was killed.

He was still angry, vicious and feral when he had to deal with Tim, and the other adopted Siblings that Father had acquired over the years..

He became a vegan and started to adopted animals, and painting out of his own selfish inner heart and needs.. Danyal would've loved this, he would've laugh so hard on how Father wouldn't allow him to kill the criminals.

Danyal would've loved this all. If he were alive..

Around midnight after Damian was almost done with his patrol, skipping over alley after alley on the roof, he stopped on one roof to take a view of the city of gotham and the moon..

Only to hear a noise of sometime clattered, damain's katana was already out in case of a ambushed only to see a small fluffy little white rabbit..

Floating in mid air upside down with blue eyes.. nose wiggling a bit as it sniffled accidentally flinging itself a bit forward near Damian.

Damian thought it was one of batman's rogue traps, but it was just a fluffy little rabbit..

He cautious poke the rabbit little plumpy body, as it honk a bit, wiggling it's little pink nose, seemingly floating leaving tiny speck of starlight dusts. The fur felt soft, almost softer then silk..

Was it.. was it a moon rabbit..?

[mischievous-thunder]

Laura's poor parents!

[smokbeast]

“Carousel”

#dcatober24 day 12

[sadmates]

I'm staring at the moon right now and thinking about you.

[soupdweller]

mermay day 9: dive