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#the brave little tailor au
mafik-sun · 7 months
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One sketch (by @jestierabbit ) gave me the idea for «The Brave Tailor AU». So far there are only redrawings of poses from the cartoon, but I have something to say!
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- Oswald is a handyman.
- Mickey and Oswald dreamed of becoming heroes of the kingdom since childhood, but over time it remained just a dream.
- Mickey, in addition to being a very good tailor, is also a dreamer and storyteller. Most often, neighboring children come to the brothers to listen to fairy tales about heroes, dragons and beautiful princesses.
Actually, this is where the story begins - Mickey composed the king's story "about himself" for children, and the idea of ​​"killing seven with one blow" came because of the incident with the flies. (Great inspiration!)
As a result, either because of childish naivety, or because of random passers-by, this story reached the king...
That's all I've come up with for now. Oh, no, one more thing.
Minnie will not only be delighted with the future hero, but also alarmed that... Tailor is being sent against the giant (a very nice tailor).
Oh, and the story is unlikely to end with a victory over the giant. This is probably how the brothers will begin their journey as heroes using their skills against their enemies.
Here's how Mickey dealt with the giant in the original. It was cool.
Original sketch:
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forkalamari · 10 months
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Mousetrap!AU
Mousetrap is an AU I’ve made which is sort of serious drama and sort of a sitcom?
Here’s the story:
Ever since Mickey and Walt partnered up, things were going strong. However, new toons in full color were getting more attention. With each passing year, Mickey became more and more irrelevant. So, Disney decides to… let him go. Not entirely, however, as they steal some of his ink and under drawing (which, in this AU, is the skeleton of a toon) and create a clone of him, updated for the norm. Of course, styles come and go. So with each new era, there’s a brand new Mickey, recreated for each and every single style.
But what do they do with the clones when they’re… done? Well, the Mickeys all come together and decide to live together, trying to get by and hopefully put a stop to whatever’s going on.
Characters:
Steamboat (1920s)
Tailor (1930s)
Fantasia (1940s/50s)
Housey (1990s)
Rudish (2010s)
More lore coming soon!! Also a tumblr acc on this
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comfortless · 7 months
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what if König does see his knight being more ladylike? or maybe even in a dress? sorry they’re just so cute i love this au lol
you are never getting her into a gown… not ever.
except at a special event (:..?
There’s a summons for König and the lady knight to attend a ball. At the castle, no less. The sheet of parchment dents weighty in her hand as she tugs it free from the message board at the center of town— a list of names, hers and König’s included; quite high, too, above even dukes and duchesses from foreign kingdoms and a wonderful knight who had braved an attempted siege and won the King victory.
It makes no sense… they’re essentially hired thieves, roaming through caverns of filth filled with the dead, stealing what’s never been their own and never will belong to them for profit. There’s no honor in their work, despite the way she puffs her chest in pride and so often declares that one of these expeditions will earn her a seat at the royal table.
Still… they had retrieved that object for the Queen, and it seemed the materialistic royalty deemed that well and good enough to consider them worthy.
König is unperturbed— he’s never been one for these formal affairs, dressing up in a tight fitting suit of ruffled fabric, chest adorned with a shimmering brooch and his blade kept tucked away far out of reach. His knight on the other hand… Her face is practically glowing, he’s never seen her smile so wide or so sweetly.
Of course… she doesn’t have some silky gown to her name, only cold steel and endless straps… not even a proper corset. König can’t help but notice her pout when they begin to prepare. Though he thinks she’s pretty, perfect even as battle-worn she is, it’s clear she wants to be more so as she stares longingly out of the window of the inn at all of the beautiful ladies riding on horseback to approach the castle gates, their gowns each as intricate and immaculate as the braids and curls and lengths of their hair.
He doesn’t get it- he’ll just go in his normal clothes, but like any proper suitor would do… he buys her a gown from the tailor a few buildings past the inn. The most expensive one he can get his paws on with the hoard of gold they collected from their last adventure. (Who knew slaying a few reanimated skeletons to give a cursed femur and jaw bone to an old witch could count as a job?!)
The dress is certainly… tailored to his preferences: it’s a lacy thing, dyed a shimmering bluish gray, creamy lace trims along the cuffs and hems, the collar dipping down into a ‘v’ to properly frame her tits. He didn’t expect it to be any lovelier than what his imagination supplies when she does put it on, and yet he finds himself utterly stifled by the sight.
He’s seen her nude, pawed at and groped her hundreds of times, but as she stands before him shyly lifting the dress at her hips and glancing at the wall, the floor, anywhere except from directly at him… his pulse begins to race. Of course, he picks her up and buries his face against her neck, whispering about how pretty she is, how much he adores every new side of her, and promptly ruins it by detailing how he would like to tug her laces loose with his teeth later in the evening after the dancing is all over. She shoves him away, hissing like a startled kitten but he’s certain she casts him a little smirk the moment that he does relax his grip.
The ball is no less extravagant than she had expected. Food and luxury wine adorn every table: cheeses, fresh baked bread, smoked meats and pies, fruit of many kinds, and the wine all sweet and bitter and so very unlike the thick mead that burns as it goes down that they’re accustomed to. The dresses, the elaborate dances, the beautiful sounds of music feathering through the air- all of it. She even gets to drink from a goblet made of silver, and her eyes light up when a servant fills it to the brim.
König despises it all.
He tucks himself away, flooding himself with food and the few gilded pitchers of actual ale he’s managed to threaten a servant into retrieving. He notices the eyes on her always, as she dances with the other ladies and smiles adoringly over at him each time their eyes meet. Her grace translates well here from battle, each step taken with some extracted precision that she’s learned from flailing her blade around in the darkness… her partners giggle against her ear as they curl their arms around her, many adrift to either side waiting for a turn.
It’s only when a man does approach his lady knight that König’s had enough. She’s tipsy and far too cute, stands out like pure treasure amongst this adoring flock, and the bastard’s eyes are on her breasts when he asks her to dance. The other man is yanked back by his scruff and tossed to the marble floor, eliciting startled gasps and even… some sweet sighs from the women surrounding as they fawn over how romantic it must be that a brute like him wouldn’t allow another man near her.
His knight only smiles at him when he leads her away, out of the grand hall and down the corridors of the castle until they find themselves before a window that seems to overlook the entire kingdom. The music still plays, the voices still chatter, but they’re all muffled and subdued someplace far away… and König only feels the world seem to come to a grinding halt when she asks him to dance with her here.
He doesn’t have the same tact or skill as the others when he moves: swaying her in a grip like iron ‘round her waist, dipping with her when her back arcs that almost leaves his face flush with her chest. It’s clumsy at best, far less flowery and sweet than when she danced with the other women, but he tries his best to not entirely ruin her night— unaware that she’s far too drunken and giddy to care. She wouldn’t have batted an eye if he had snapped that man’s neck, if only he rewarded her patience with a dance like this.
They meld together, a perfect fit when she stands on his boots and drapes her arms around his neck to press her chin to his chest. The frolic comes to a quiet end as they whisper back and forth about what happens next, after tonight. When the sun rises and they’re back on their feet… He swears to her that they’ll buy a horse, subtly hints that the offer to settle will always be present and she only shushes him with a kiss, one that she laughs into as she tastes the ale on his tongue.
Those strings are, in fact, loosened by his teeth as she lies on their shared bed with him later into the evening. He traces every dip and curve of her body through the silk as he works away at relieving her of the gown, then the corset with slow, precise movements and tugs. She laughs again when he hisses praises from behind her, licks and nibbles a hot path along her skin, rests his head against the smooth flesh of her back when the corset finally lays to either side of her.
His fingertips graze from the back of her neck, to her shoulder, further along the middle of her back before he stops himself. Despite the near constant ache, this isn’t how or where he wants this done: in some rundown inn outside of the castle, her veins flooded with red wine. Instead, he only pulls her close in a cuddle, massages at her tits as she thanks him for accompanying her, for dancing with her despite his gait being more like a newborn foal than a proper stallion.
And when the moon finally reaches a peak in the night sky, her breathing slow and soft while she rests her head against his chest, he kisses the top of her head and pulls her in closer. Tells her that he likes either side of her, knight or lady it mattered not, so long as she remains at his side like this.
She nods to her own damnation, contentedly swearing her oath to him with one word, “Forever.” It comes in a soft murmur, eyelids already fluttering as he squishes her closer against him.
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egcdeath · 2 months
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getting down to business
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader
summary: you and patrick deal with pre-wedding nerves. (part of the succession/tomshiv adjacent au. previous parts here: part 1 and part 2)
word count: 6.3k
warnings: mostly fluffy with a hint of angst, a touch of jealousy, some allusions to cheating but no written cheating, tashi cameo but she’s a little mean, weddings, a bit of family drama, super brief mention of alcohol, a little domesticity and cheesiness at the end
author’s note: this is very much the calm before the failmarriage storm.
i would be remiss if i did not thank my succession anon for all of their help with brainstorming this fic and au. i mean it when i say that this literally would not exist without them. i hope you all enjoy!!
You were no stranger to anxiety, but as you sat at a vanity in a bedroom located in a castle, applying mascara in a way that was much more meticulous than mascara application ever called for, you couldn’t deny that this particular flavor of anxiety was something that you hadn’t ever experienced. 
It was a strange mixture of excitement, knowing that you’d finally be marrying Patrick in just under 24 hours, fear of what the future may hold for you, and a touch of dread of having to spend the evening with a mixed bag of guests—some who loved you and hated your fiancé, others who hated you and loved your fiancé, and a few who didn’t particularly care for either of you. 
Your eyelashes were beginning to look a bit like spider legs, so you put the wand down and let out a long, drawn out breath. Everything was going to be fine. 
In a stark contrast to you, Patrick strolled out of the bathroom confidently, his posture so impeccable that it could put anyone to shame by just looking at them. He had no reason not to look as sure of himself as he did, as he looked absolutely dashing in the tailored suit he wore. If you weren’t so anxious, you certainly would’ve commented on how handsome he looked—maybe even running a hand down his chest or copping a feel of his ass that looked criminally good in his pants.
“Ready?” he asked after approaching you where you sat on the bench in front of the vanity before setting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you laughed nervously and looked at the two of you in the mirror in front of you. You snaked your hand up to set it on top of his and gently squeezed it. 
“That doesn’t sound very ready to me,” he sat down next to you, the two of you barely fitting on the small bench. 
“Sorry. I am ready to marry you. I’m not ready to mingle with your family and my work associates,” you shifted your gaze from looking at Patrick in the mirror, to looking at him beside you. “Can you believe that by this time tomorrow, we’ll be married?” 
His expression briefly shifted away from one of confidence to one of nerves, the moment so small that anyone else would miss it, but after knowing him for as long as you did, you picked up on it with ease. Though he was putting on a brave face, it was somewhat of a relief to know that he was feeling just as anxious as you. 
“If it’s any comfort, your guests don’t like me very much either. We’ll just stick together and have each other’s backs.”
“Sure,” you agreed and smiled at him, though you knew that things were never that simple when his family were involved. You kissed Patrick’s clean-shaven cheek, leaving behind the smallest hint of a lipstick mark. He turned his face to look at it in the mirror, and set his hand on top of the space that you just pecked. 
“I hope you know that I’m not wiping that off.”
“Good. Let everyone know you’re mine,” you grinned, then stood up and walked away from the vanity and over to the floor to ceiling window that gave you the perfect view of your first few guests arriving, milling about and talking with each other. 
It didn’t take long for Patrick to join you, wordlessly announcing his arrival by setting his hand on the small of your back as he stood beside you, taking in the scene below you. 
“Should we just run away and get married at a courthouse or something? No guests, no castle, no fancy rings, just you and me?” you asked jokingly, though your words had the slightest bit of truth to them. Genuinely, you would marry Patrick anywhere or any time. You would marry him right in that bedroom, though the fact that the bedroom was located inside of a castle only slightly betrayed your sentiment of not needing extravagance. 
Patrick laughed at your words, so you laughed along with him. Your laughter was a welcome antidote to your nerves, your anxiety dispelling with every rise and fall of your chest. 
“I would marry you anywhere,” Patrick said rather earnestly for what should’ve been a joke. “But our guests are starting to arrive, and I don’t want to piss anyone off by being late. Let’s go?”
“Good point,” you agreed, wasting no time by pacing back over to the vanity and taking one last good look at yourself.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” Patrick complimented as he set a hand on the small of your back once more, subtly shepherding you to the door. “You know how much I love that dress on you.”
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you replied  as you closed and locked the door behind you. 
“Even at my best, I couldn’t look a fraction of how good you do.”
“Are you sure? You clean up pretty nicely.” 
The two of you went back and forth as you walked out, your silly and meaningless banter a welcome distraction from the particular flavor of nerves that your wedding produced. 
The months leading up to your wedding were nothing short of an absolute whirlwind. Between deliberating on cake flavors and laborious dress fittings, you were relieved that the drama of your engagement was finally coming to an end, but slightly anxious to see what your marriage had in store for you.
You were pretty sure that nothing would really change—that was the case for most other couples, so you couldn’t see why that would be any different for you—other than your net worth increasing by a few billion, of course. 
Patrick had been a bit of a diva leading up to the wedding. Though you had some of the best wedding planners money could buy, he seemed to be stressed and nitpicking every single detail that they ran by him. It started off as sweet that he was so worried about giving you the best wedding possible, but eventually became a little concerning to see your fiancé practically pull out his own hair over an event that would only last a few days. Still, it was a relief to finally see the fruits of his labor pay off, and to know that his higher stress levels would finally come to an end. 
While you were excited for Patrick’s stress to conclude, you were also ready for the rumors and gossip of you being a gold digger to be put to bed. You would think that after years of being together with Patrick, people would eventually stop accusing you of being his sugar baby or someone who slept her way to the top–but no, the tabloids and his family always seemed to have something to say about your relationship. Surely, tying the knot and legally being bound to one another would give the media a little less to discuss, and might finally shut up his sisters.
You would never forget the look on their faces when Patrick announced that the two of you were engaged. You weren’t exactly sure if he meant to do it as unceremoniously as he did, but after growing tired of seeing you being picked on at a family dinner, he finally revealed the news by referring to you as his fiancé. It was nice to not have to hide anything, but if you’d known that you would spend the next several months hearing the same lines about how they never expected their commitment-phobic sibling to marry someone, let alone a small-town nobody, you would’ve kept it secret until the day of the ceremony. 
Regardless, his family was your family now, and your family was his–which was something you tried to explain to him as you attempted to convince him to come to Minnesota with you and meet your parents for the first time. After years of your relationship (and years of Patrick putting off meeting your family), he finally agreed to come back home with you. Though the trip didn’t go as well as either of you probably would’ve liked, with your parents turning out to not be the biggest fan of your fiancé, you were at least able to check that box off. 
Besides, it was basically a rite of passage to hate your in-laws. At least that aspect of your relationship felt normal.  
As the date of your wedding grew closer, you couldn’t help but notice Patrick’s weird moods. How he’d pull away from you and grow distant when you brought up how soon the wedding was, or how he’d occasionally reject your affection shortly after you mentioned that he’d be your husband in a short while. 
Not to mention the prenup. You would remember that conversation for years to come–how he awkwardly served you the papers over breakfast, giving you a manila envelope and an awkward justification of how his family insisted on it and that it was just a formality, how you eagerly agreed to sign it regardless of his contents, and how he insisted that you at least have a lawyer look over it. 
The following circumstances were somehow even more awkward–the phone call you had with your mother after she looked through the document where she advised you against signing it and pointed out that the document seemed to have a clause for everything under the sun except infidelity. Even worse was the conversation you had with Patrick after your call with your mom, and the weird way he danced around that particular clause–or the lack thereof. 
Still, you were so in love with your partner and wanted to marry him so bad that it didn’t even seem like an issue. You knew Patrick had a lot going on, but you were more than pretty sure that he would never cheat on you. 
You all but put that out of your mind, not letting a few weird instances get in the way of you marrying your dream man. 
Once your bachelorette party came around, you made the mistake of taking the party out of your closest friends’ hands and into the hands of one of Patrick’s sisters, who insisted that she be in charge of the event. Several fun cocktails, some sort of business meeting between Patrick’s sisters and the owner of the family’s biggest competitor, and one tablet of molly later, his sisters were loaded with blackmail material for the rest of your life. 
Stress around your wedding only seemed to continue to grow as the date grew closer, with Patrick managing to somehow grill your wedding planners even more, his father declaring that he wouldn’t be attending the wedding at the very last minute after Patrick somehow pissed him off, and your parents putting pressure on you to reconsider the union altogether. 
To say that you were relieved that this pre-wedding chapter of your life was closing was a complete understatement. You could only hope that the event finally happening would put an end to the endless cycle of tension and drama that was turning out to be your wedding. 
You did your best to hide your relief as you stood in the pathway in front of his mother’s castle and clung onto Patrick’s side, greeting your guests with a friendly wave or a hug if they were particularly close to either of you. You spent so much time waving, shaking hands, and hugging that your arms were beginning to go sore, and you were starting to grow worried that the next person who shook your hand and complimented your appearance would be on the receiving end of an unwarranted angry outburst.
Luckily for both of you, the endless greeting and small talk was beginning to come to a close. Most of your guests arrived right on time, if not earlier than expected, and were all chattering amongst themselves on the inside of the old building. 
As you were beginning to wind down, finally letting out the hefty sigh you’d been holding all evening, a sleek black car pulled up, and out walked one of the most gorgeous women you’d ever laid eyes on. Looking like she sauntered right off the cover of a magazine and donning a dress that looked particularly similar to yours—save for its red hue—you couldn’t help but lock your eyes on her as the valet took her vehicle and she walked toward the two of you. 
The woman approached Patrick first, shaking his hand in an almost awkward way, as if she weren’t totally sure of what way was most appropriate to greet him.
“Glad you could make it, Tashi,” he said, sounding slightly awkward himself. His interaction with her was such a stark contrast to the way he held himself just a few guests ago that you almost couldn’t believe it.
It felt strange for you to be putting a name to the very beautiful face that was Tashi Duncan. You couldn’t help but wonder why Patrick seemed so awkward with his coworker, as if he didn’t work closely with her every day–though you figured it was more likely for him to be generally feeling uneasy from the wedding and the sheer amount of people you’d both just greeted, rather than anything with that one particular guest.  
Still, something about meeting her felt a little off. You vaguely recalled when Patrick told you about working with her, soft launching his new position by telling you that he’d be working with an old friend from college. A week later, and her description turned into an old friend-with-benefits from college, and a few days after that it turned into the woman he dated for a few months. You’d been so offended at the time, but seeing her now, in all of her beauty and confidence, made you realize why your partner might want to keep that type of thing from you. Besides, you’d been the one to omit the information that you were almost engaged to the boyfriend you were with before Patrick until he’d come face-to-face with him during his trip to Minnesota–though that’d been more accidental than on purpose. Neither of you were perfect. 
“Yeah, good to be here,” she commented, then looked up at the looming building above the three of you. “Glenn will be here later. He’s on his way but his flight got delayed. He should make it in time for the strategy session tonight, though.”
You were a little surprised at her ability to talk shop right away and so freely at your wedding, despite the policy you insisted on having no discussions of work. What was even more surprising was the fact that Patrick would be working on the eve of your wedding night. Surely, Glenn’s presidential campaign could wait a few days. 
You bit your tongue despite the newfound complaints for your fiancé and continued to observe the two of them and the way that something seemed to hang over their interaction. Did a presidential campaign really call for all of that drama? Maybe they secretly hated each other. You would have to ask Patrick about it during your pre-wedding debrief.
“Cool. Well, there are drinks and snacks inside. I think Cornelia wanted to talk to you about something, too.”
“Cool,” she replied, parroting Patrick’s words. “Congrats, guys,” she said as she acknowledged you for the first time in your entire interaction. 
She walked off without sparing you another glance, leaving you to look at your fiancé
“Want to head inside?” he questioned, all tension suddenly gone from the air. 
“Sure,” you shrugged.
As the two of you walked inside, you held onto Patrick’s arm for the stability that walking on gravel in high heels required.  “So that’s the famous Tashi?” you asked, mostly trying to make small talk.
“Yeah,” he replied, keeping his eyes glued in front of you.
“She’s hot,” you replied, mostly joking after what was clearly a very tense moment. 
Patrick chuckled, but it sounded rather forced. You tried not to think too much of it. Besides, there was no time to think when you were immediately bombarded by your guests the moment you walked into the room.
The two of you socialized with guests as a unit for as long as you could both manage, knowing that both of you desperately needed the backup when it came to interacting with each other’s inner circles. You would never let Patrick take on your parents alone, and he would certainly try his best to not leave you alone with his sisters.
Somehow, the two of you still ended up separated once Patrick was whisked away by his mother—who he needed to give a stern talking to after she spent the evening making small talk with your guests by asking how long they thought your marriage would last—leaving you to take on the rest of the foreseeable evening on your own. 
If you had to make small talk on your own, you at least needed something strong to drink. You wandered off to the bar to attempt to fulfill that need before you received yet another passive aggressive comment from Patrick’s mother about you not being the right person to marry. Though, you guessed if you owned a castle that would be inherited by one of your children, you would probably want their spouse to be an heiress, too. 
You ordered yourself a cocktail then took in your surroundings, finding yourself surprised when you realized that you were standing right next to your fiancé’s coworker and ex-girlfriend. 
It would be rude of you to wordlessly stare or to act like you hadn’t seen her after you already clearly made eye contact with her, so you had no choice but to commit to speaking to her, lack of liquid courage be damned. 
“Great dress, by the way,” you referred to her dress that looked nearly identical to the one you were wearing. You’d picked it special for this occasion, its tight fit complementing your curves nicely and being one of your fiancé’s favorites in your closet. 
“Thanks,” she looked down at the dress as if she were seeing it on her body for the first time. “This guy I knew used to really like this style.”
You raised your brows curiously, knowing that Patrick was a big fan of your form-fitting cocktail dress, much like the one Tashi was wearing. Surely, the man she was referring to was him. 
You wondered if your fiancé’s taste hadn’t changed since college, or if the two of them discussed fashion often while they worked together. For some reason, you just couldn’t imagine Patrick showing his coworker a picture of his favorite dress of yours in his closet. For the first time that night, you felt genuinely uneasy. Was she trying to play some sort of mind game with your fiancé? 
“You know, I never really thought that Patrick would settle down. Especially with someone like you,” she paused as she took the sight of you in and gauged your unmoved reaction. “No offense.”
“None taken,” you lied. “You’re not the first person to tell me that, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.” 
You laughed the comment off, doing your best not to assume the worst of your guest, despite the fact that you were growing very tired of that sentiment. You’d heard it a thousand times from Patrick’s family, even more often from the press, and now from his ex-girlfriend. Besides the fact that it was painfully unoriginal, you didn’t need to be reminded that you were out of Patrick’s league at the frequency you were currently at. Hopefully, that would be yet another thing you would stop hearing after you finally tied the knot. 
“Well, I don’t think any of us thought he would be able to get his shit together around love and commitment. You should’ve seen him back in his prime. God, he was such a slut. He was so scared of commitment that he would self-sabotage and cheat on everyone, even people he’d only been seeing for a few weeks. It’s honestly a miracle that we lasted as long as we did.”
What was the point of her sharing this information? Was she trying to play mind games with you?
“And how long was that?” 
Three months. You asked as if you didn’t already know the answer. At least, you knew the answer that your fiancé told you. 
“Not long,” she replied coolly, wholy unphased by the reminder that their relationship came and went. “All that’s to say, congratulations on domesticating Patrick Zweig. He talks about you like you’re the best invention since sliced bread. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
You would certainly hope he talked about you so highly–especially to his ex who didn’t seem to be fully over him. You wondered if her little crush on your husband was as obvious to him as it was to you. Again, the thought made you feel uneasy. 
You didn’t have the time to collect your thoughts enough to come up with a witty remark by the time that you were interrupted by your partner who was looking more than slightly disheveled by an urgent speed walk over to you. 
“Hey!” he sounded slightly out of breath as he greeted the two of you. “Mind if I steal my fiancé?”
“She’s all yours,” she gave Patrick a smirk and for a moment, he looked mildly alarmed. The look didn’t last long, but it was enough for you to feel slightly unnerved. You didn’t enjoy feeling like you were out of the loop when it came to your partner, but you did your best to push the weird feeling you were having out of your mind. It was probably nothing.
You allowed yourself to be swept up with Patrick for the rest of the night, endlessly socializing with your guests despite your quickly depleting social battery. You didn’t even have it in you to protest when Patrick snuck off to meet with his candidate and Tashi, despite your plans to give him shit about working at a very explicitly no-work function. 
The exhaustion of your day fully settled into your body the moment you stepped into your bedroom. You all but collapsed in bed, burying your face in a pillow that smelled distinctly of your fiancé’s shampoo. You lamented the fact that he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you that night out of tradition and superstition. You had so much you wanted to discuss with him about the day, like his overzealous aunt who seemed to be following you around all evening, and his ex-girlfriend’s strange behavior. You wanted to ask him if he was as nervous for the ceremony as you were, or if seeing you in your dress turned him on as much as it turned you on to see him all dressed up in his suit. 
Shit. Your dress. You needed to shower and take that annoying, tight thing off, then prepare your hair for the stylist in the morning, and do a twelve-step skincare routine to ensure that you looked as dewy and radiant as possible for your wedding. 
You groaned into the Patrick-scented pillow at the idea of having to get up, but accepted the necessary evil with the knowledge that you’d thank yourself in the morning. 
By the time you got yourself settled back in bed, you shot Patrick a text message that remained unanswered and tried to relax your racing mind enough for you to actually fall asleep. 
A soft knock on your door disturbed your restless half-awake half-asleep state, the anxiety and excitement of getting married the next day coursing through your veins and preventing you from properly sleeping. 
You didn’t respond to the knocking, hoping that the person might get the memo and walk away on their own. When the knocking happened again, this time with more gusto, you sighed as you got out of bed, fully prepared to snap at a drunk guest who wandered to your room and decided to bother the bride. 
When you opened the door, you were surprised to find that your visitor wasn’t a drunk guest at all, but your fiancé.
“Patrick?” you asked as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, still not completely sure that you weren’t dreaming. 
“Yeah. Can I come in?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you whisper-shouted. “It’s bad luck.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asked with half a smirk. Regardless of what you believed, you immediately knew that he would be seeing you in some capacity before your wedding, despite whatever old wives’ tales had to say about his action. 
“I believe that I don’t want you to see me like this,” you gestured up to your face, where under-eye patches and a sticky face mask sat on your face. 
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he dismissed before worming his way into the room. You accepted defeat and closed the door behind him. 
“Everything okay?” you asked him. “Having second thoughts already?”
“I just wanted to see you,” he dismissed. not really answering either of your questions. 
“At,” you glanced at the clock on your bedside table, “3:35 in the morning? You’ll see me in a few hours. What’re you really here for? One last fling before the old ball and chain?” you joked, though you were genuinely curious about his middle of the night appearance. 
He looked at you for a moment, trying to read your expression. You looked back at him just as openly, trying to figure out if you should continue joking with him or take his nerves seriously. 
“Pat?” you asked again, trying to catch his attention. 
“Sorry. Want to come out to the grounds with me?” 
You glanced over at the clock once more, knowing you were going to be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but your fiancé looked like he was in need of a little late night debrief. 
“Sure. Why not.”
Patrick waited patiently at the bench in front of your vanity as you searched for and pulled on a robe. You swore you heard the faint sound of him looking through your jewelry and makeup as you changed into something a little less pajama-like and peeled off the items on your face. 
Your fiancé took your hand as the two of you left the room, leading you through the sprawling old castle. The two of you did your best to be quiet, though you couldn’t help but let out the occasional gasp of surprise at the sight of such an awe-inspiring building. 
“It’s so beautiful out here,” you were slightly wonderstruck once you finally arrived at the massive garden, taking in the tall, neatly trimmed hedges that were currently surrounding you. 
“I know. I spent so much of my childhood admiring it from afar. My mom always spent so much time and effort hiring people to make it as beautiful as it was, then never let us come out here.”
“That seems like a waste,” you commented as you sat down in a padded chair. 
Your partner shrugged dismissively, never one to do any deep analysis on his very strange childhood. “Bring that up with her, I guess.”
“Does that mean we’re breaking the rules right now?” you asked with a mischievous grin. 
“I’m sure she can make an exception for the newlyweds.”
“Not newlyweds yet,” you corrected. “Which reminds me, why did you bring me out here?”
“I wanted to show you the garden. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” you repeated, then leaned into him. “Obviously you’re withholding information. So spill, before I start talking your ear off with gossip from today, since we didn’t get to do a debrief.”
“There’s nothing to spill,” he replied, though you both knew that wasn’t the truth. “Is it a crime for me to want to see my beautiful fiancé before we get married?”
“Stop trying to butter me up, Zweig.”
“I’m not buttering you up, soon-to-be Zweig.”
“Sure,” you eyed him in a playfully suspicious manner. “I’m not sure I believe you though. I think the Patrick of last week who was running around like a chicken with his head cut off to make sure every detail of the wedding was perfect would have an issue with that.”
“Trust me when I say that my belief that this ‘bad luck if you see each other before the wedding’ superstition is bullshit did not change over the course of a week.”
“I’ll remember you said that when our marriage falls apart,” you joked, fully confident that your marriage could withstand anything that was thrown your way. 
Patrick grew silent momentarily, his bit of laughter fading away. “You don’t think that that’s gonna happen, right?”
There it was. For a moment, you were reminded of your earlier conversation with Tashi, where she told you about Patrick’s fear of commitment. While you’d heard this sentiment from his inner circle a number of times, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen it so blatantly in front of you. Patrick never seemed to have an issue with you when it came to the progression of your relationship—not hesitating to ask you to move in with him or even to marry him. Still, it was interesting to hear it come from the source himself. Patrick was nervous about what marriage meant for the two of you and your future. 
“Of course not,” you leaned against him and took his hand, knowing that physical affection was a nearly foolproof method of  helping to quell his nerves. “We’ve been together for so long now that I can’t see how one extravagant event, some pieces of paper, and jewelry are gonna make any difference with us.”
“Yeah, it’s just…” he paused and trailed off, trying to collect the thoughts that he hadn’t been able to put into words. “I never had a good example of love growing up. You’ve seen how my parents are. It’s a miracle that my dad decided not to come to the wedding, ‘cause god knows those two would find a way to make it all about themselves and how much they hate each other. And you’re so… I don’t know. I don’t know if I deserve this. You, I mean.”
You were taken aback at his confession, completely unaware that Patrick ever worried that he wasn’t a good enough partner for you. Suddenly, all the drama of trying to give you the perfect wedding made a little more sense to you. 
“Oh Pat,” you laid your head on his shoulder and scooted so close to him that you were practically sitting on his lap. “I feel like I should be the one who’s worried. All night long, people have been telling me that you settled for me and that I’m out of your league. Even your ex-girlfriend told me that.”
“They’re all idiots. You’re the one who settled for me. I don’t know what the hell I did to get someone like you in my life.”
“I guess if we both settled for each other, then we’re even,” you gently poked at him. “I think maybe we should put less stock into what other people think of our relationship. I love you and I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that you love me. I don’t see why it has to be any more complicated than that.”
He wordlessly kissed the top of your head and somehow pulled you even closer to him. Though he didn’t say it, you could feel those three words on the tip of his tongue and radiating from his actions. 
The two of you moved on from the topic of your pre-marriage fears rather quickly and spent the rest of the night swapping stories and gossip of your guests. It was refreshing to have a moment where you could both pretend like one of the biggest days of your life wasn’t rapidly approaching. 
Eventually, the dark night sky began to fade into a lighter, brighter color, and the sun peeked out from the horizon. You hadn’t realized just how long the two of you’d been talking until the morning light reminded you that it’d been hours since you initially began your conversation. Years into your relationship, and you were still stunned at your ability to never run out of things to say to each other. 
You yawned, doing your best to keep the action subtle despite the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with you. You were having such a good time with your partner that you almost didn’t want it to end. 
Despite this, when Patrick noticed just how tired you seemed, he insisted that the two of you go back to your respective rooms. Though the task seemed simple, there was one small issue—a few of the staff for your wedding had already arrived in the building. You certainly didn’t want any rumors about your whereabouts, or the fact that you’d broken tradition and apparently doomed your marriage in one fell swoop. 
Luckily for you, Patrick spent many summers wandering the halls of the castle, sneaking in and out to spend the night at a club or smoke a blunt with his sisters on one of the many acres of land his family owned. 
Your partner took your hand as the two of you snuck through corridors, trying your best to be quiet despite your urge to giggle or step a little too aggressively on an old, creaky piece of wood. At one point, you were nearly caught by a caterer, only narrowly dodging them by pressing yourselves up against the wall and holding your breaths. Once the coast was clear, Patrick stole a quick peck from your lips, then continued to show you his secret way to get back to your bedroom for the night. 
At last, you made it back to your bedroom, where Patrick nudged the door open and stepped inside behind you. 
“Do you remember the night we met?” Patrick asked out of the blue as he stood by your doorway. He had a slightly distant look in his eyes, as if the reality of your situation was settling in for the first time after a somewhat surreal night.
The first night you met was one of your clearest memories. You swore you could remember every detail of your conversation with your friend before she told you that Patrick was coming, and the drink you ordered to calm your nerves. You remembered exactly what bedsheets were sprawled across Patrick’s mattress, and every subject you covered as you talked to him for hours in his kitchen. 
You didn’t know how to put that all into words, so you responded simply. “Of course I do.”
“I remember thinking that you changed my life already, and I’d only known you for a few hours. I think I wanted to propose to you after you stayed up talking to me all night.”
For a moment you thought about the ring box you’d seen hiding in his dresser, well over a year before he proposed to you. You wondered just how long Patrick thought about asking you to marry him before he actually ended up doing it. 
“Is that version of yourself jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married?” 
He grinned at you. “This version of me is jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married. I love you. Like, a lot. More than I thought was possible.”
Though you knew it was the truth, you didn’t hear those three words from him all that often. Somehow, hearing them made all of your nerves and fears for the day melt away. You didn’t even get a chance to return the words before your fiancé was pulling you in for a gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face sweetly. Even as he pulled away, you chased his lips, not wanting the moment to be over.
“Save the sappy stuff for your vows. I don’t want you to be all sapped-out by the time we’re actually getting married. Unless you’re planning on marrying me right now,” you held his hand that had fallen from your face against your chest, right next to your heart. You wondered if he could feel the rhythmic pattern of an organ that only seemed to beat for him. 
“I told you already, I’d marry you anywhere,” his voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, as if someone might overhear and interrupt your moment. 
You smiled into his eyes that almost looked like they were sparkling in the dim morning light peeking through your windows. 
“Goodnight, Patrick. I’ll see you at the wedding,” you forced yourself to bid him farewell, knowing that if you had your way, the two of you wouldn’t leave the room for the rest of the day. 
He gave you one last farewell kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the one that preceded it. Though you were attempting to send him away, you couldn’t help but drape your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer and allowing him to kiss you even deeper. 
The shrill sound of your phone alarm rang out from the pocket of your pajama pants, letting you know that you only had a half hour before a makeup artist, maid of honor, and bridesmaids joined you to help you prepare for your big day. 
“You really need to go now,” you laughed, pulling away to turn the annoying sound off. “I love you so much.”
He blew kisses at you from the door as he left, clearly feeling just as reluctant as you to leave you alone and prepare for your actual ceremony. You watched him go and shut the door behind him and you softly sighed to yourself–a complicated mixture of relief and fear that you were one step closer to your wedding.
Part of you still couldn’t believe that he would be your husband in just a few hours.
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yjwfiles04 · 3 months
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a d m i s t o f c h a o s .
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pairing: idol!jungwon × afab!reader | deliberately lowercased.
word count: 3,872 words
synopsis: you were just an ordinary student living a not so ordinary life and also a fangirl of a kpop idol boy group named "enhypen". you were just living your boring life ever since summer vacation had started. then suddenly; your so called 'idols' suddenly showed up in your place.
genre: idol au (?), angst, comfort, fluff
warnings: mentions of past traumas, rape, touching, cheating, rebel, sickness, crying, sobbing, kissing, and more ! (lmk)
author's note: hellooo! this is my first time writing here and i wrote this story based in my dream ㅠㅠ, it may not be exactly the same as what i've dreamed of because i changed few things in the story, cuz ya know that dreams can be a little bewildering and things were just convoluted in there. so yea, hope you enjoy reading and please like and reblog this, pretty please? >_<
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ever since vacation has started, all you did was to stay up all night, watch tiktoks, reels, read, draw, eat, and sleep. very typical for an ordinary person who've anxiety interacting with people. aside from those things people says 'boring', you also spend your time stanning enhypen. voting on the awards they participated in, watching their contents, and basically supporting and loving them. you sometimes go biking around your neighborhood with your friend for productivity and simply to be free just for a moment, cause life's not very considerate when it comes to you.
your family runs a sports tailoring shop in the city and there where your family stays. the first floor is where the shop is and the second floor is where you guys sleep. actually, your family have a house, but it's quite far from where the lives of people were running so your parents decided to just stay in the shop so it can be convenient for all.
aside from that, you may have a very tortuous and unique siblings. you are the youngest child in your family, two older brothers and a sister. accordingly, you have an eldest brother who is already married and had a daughter, your sister who is also married and had two sons, a brother who's a year older and just got over a breakup, and there you are; a girl who is obsessed with seven men who doesn't know you (?) and never been in a relationship.
when you were a little, everything seems to go well. of course, you were just a child, they were going to keep things from you because firstly, you won't really gonna understand, secondly; to prevent you from hurting, or so you thought? but then pandemic hits, and nearly all things changed. the kid who's just a kid abruptly has to face affliction, distress, adversity, suffering, misfortune, and sorts of hardships. you were just a kid, a kid who didn't do anything to deserve those... and that experiences, made you different. someone they don't really know, even you yourself at some times don't know who you really are. no one to talk to about what's happening deep down there in your life cause you're afraid they'll judged you, but even if not, they were busy worrying about their own problems. apart from that, you're not a very open person when it comes to problem matter. moreover for almost infinite disasters you've faced and facing, you thought you were just going to be stuck in that place forever, but then you find not just some to escape the admist of chaos in your life. enhypen, a group of men who saves you, made you strong and brave through their motivations, story, and songs.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .
after a long physically and mentally exhausting day, you hurriedly cleaned up and hopped on your bed at the top in the bunk bed you and your brother shared. you decided to draw on your sketchbook since you're bored so you took out your phone and find inspiration on pinterest. laying whilst scrolling, you find a drawing of jungwon; a kpop idol you adore and love deeply and find solace of. that catches your interest so you click it and eventually, you decided to draw him. while you're in the middle drawing him, the sleepiness inside you suddenly awoken so you put down your mechanical pencil and doze off, the left side of your face on the top of your right hand while laying flat on your stomach.
you got woken up by the noises downstairs so you decided to go down and check why is it so noisy, you didn't fully go down, just a few steps from the door of the second floor. and just to see the tall men sitting in the seating area of the shop. you rubbed your eyes and go down a few steps more, you were nonplussed by what you see. so you tried to rubbed your eyes more harshly, and when that didn't work, you slap yourself hard enough reasoning for the people downstairs to notice you.
"aww, that hurts," you said to yourself and looked at them again. it hit you, you aren't hallucinating. so you hurriedly go back and lie down on your bed. "what the actual freak?!" you mutter. then someone pulled the curtain that covers you and your bed. "y/n, why won't you go down? they are waiting for you," your mom says. "is that really enhypen?!" said you and scratches your head. "does it look like you're dreaming? take a shower and get dressed so you won't look like a beggar, they have been waiting for you," she says and leaves you.
turmoil still lingers but you did what your mother told you to do. you wear a white shirt with an oversized plaid fannel shirt and a jeans that matches your outfit. as you go downstairs, their attention went on you. you immediately go to the corner where they can't see much of you, looking down straight away. "hey, y/n, don't be bashful. we won't bite," you look up and see jay smiling at you but agitatedly look down. "we came here for you so if you don't come here, our efforts just to see you will end in nothing," heeseung says in a gentle tone but with a jot of irony. feeling fensive, you unconfidently walk towards them eyes stuck on the floor. as you got closer to them and stands still like a statue,
a hand grab yours and drags you to sit beside them. you can tell whose hand is it by just looking at it through your line of site. you know that hand too well to know whose is it. looking at the owner of the hand, you know yourself you're right. it's his hand, the hand of the person who gives you comfort, you can feel him, it's jungwons hand. you looked at him with awe, reverence, hero worship, fondness, tenderness, intimacy, warmth, and you name it. all sorts of love and adornments while you scrutinize over him. he's such an eyesome. no words could describe how you feel at this moment. "it's nice to see you, y/n," he says and flash a smile that shows his dimple. oh you swear to the ones above, it's so surreal.
you smiled back but then again, realization smacks at you, "w-what are you guys doing here?" you said while looking around confused. "that doesn't matter why we're here, what matter's we're here... for you," jake glance and grins at you. you look at them one by one because no matter what process you do in your mind you can't match the puzzles of why they're here. "y/n, don't think too much about why we're here, we don't want to stress you out, hmm?" ni-ki says to make you calm down. you agreed, you don't want to stress yourself about the complexities that are happening right now. the salient here is to make the most of the moment that are here now, right?
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .
following the haywire circumstances, enhypen asks you what you wanted to do for the day, you can't think of anything because you don't actually do anything sensible every day since the vacation had commenced. hence, all you could think of is... riding a bike?? (what?)
"you sure you want... to ride a bike?" sunghoon said while scratching the back of his head. he didn't expect you to take them for a bike ride because honestly, he expected something bigger. but of course, as a boring human being you are, that's something big you could think of. and besides, you don't want to ask something materialistic to them, that'll be too much you think. "yeah, this is all i could think of at this moment, i'm so sorry if i disappointed you guys," saying that, you smiled bitterly at them. "n-no, i didn't mean anything by that–", "don't mind him, y/n, he really wants to ride a bike and he's just too perplexed to see you," sunoo interrupted sunghoon then grabs your hand to get the bikes for the both of you.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .
what all you did for today was roamed around your town, and when every single one of you were tired, you thought of having a mini picnic for a while by the river where there weren't many people as per the sunset's gradually showing out. after that you thought of inviting them to the fair with you, as it's getting dark; the rides and playgrounds there will be lit up and and little by little, people started going there to wander around. you all enjoyed going there, you played different games like shooting the ball, darts, and so on. heeseung and jay won a teddy bear and they gave it to you, saying it was a remembrance. y'all also ride different types of rides such as the vikings, mini roller coaster, horror train where others told you they weren't scared but when y'all got inside they screamed their lungs out, and more rides. of course when some were hungry each of you decided to eat, you ate dinner there since there were many choices and places to eat.
you can't help but to be amused by this moments with them, even though it's not vain, it's ecstatic.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .
after a long magical exhausting day with them, they insisted you come with them to spend the night at the condominium they rented so they could still spend time with you, you have no idea why your family agreed to that but they did. you all managed to watch the movie because you weren't sleepy yet.
while watching, "do you think this will be the finale?" said sunoo abruptly.
despondency etched on his face. you couldn't help but to be stupefied looking at the big screen. "guess everything doesn't lasts forever..." ni-ki answered deeply. it makes you think, that what if, after all the convival you spent together, will it end just like that?
does joy doesn't take long to fade when it comes to you?
you smiled, but the pain is etched in your smiles. nothing lasts forever. forever is a lie. all we have is what's between hello and goodbye. yeah, that's right. forever is not in the vocabulary of the ones above when it comes to you. it's waggish, very very.
tears coming from your eyes, "ey c'mon! it's just a movie, don't fall that easily!" sunghoon says but he's also tearing up. "that's right. of course there's forever. that's not just where forever revoles," jungwon replied and looks at you while you wipe your tears. "okay, okay, let's go to sleep, maybe y'all cry again later," heeseung says and laughs slightly. y'all stand up.
"so... y/n, goodnight?" jake said. "hmm, i guess. goodnight?" you replied. you hugged them one by one, and when you hugged them all except jungwon, you looked at him with bit doubt, nervous to hug him. he gave you an assurance look and take your wrist. then he place it on his back as he places his on your waist. at that moment all you feel is alleviation and solace. you deepen the hug by putting your other hand on his back and he did that as well. after a moment, both of you break the hug and didn't say anything.
"now, let's sleep. goodnight sweetie y/n, see ya?" jake said while yawning, they bid goodbye and went to their rooms so you went in to yours too.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .
since you entered your room, you tried to sleep but no matter what position you took you couldn't fall asleep. because you had nothing to do, you remembered that the condominium has a balcony in the living room where you watched earlier so you thought of going there.
when you got there you saw the glass door was slightly open in the middle, there was a little air coming in causing the curtains to sway a little. you approached it and opened it, there you saw the lights coming from the city and some lights that were on from another condominium. the wind brushes over you. you can also see the pool at the bottom without people cause it's already dark, what caught your attention was the big moon focused on you, the moon is full, and its light is strange along with some shining stars. the moon also works as another ambient light.
you sat on the corner of the balcony and hugged your knees feeling the breeze. all of a sudden, you zoned out looking at the big round moon in front you. you can't help but to shed tears. everything you've been through comes back to you like strike of lightning. all of the suffering returns like a ghost. with everything you've been through, you've handled it, you've been able to handle it on your own. but no matter what you do, they never let you go, the problem's always there, you're like a prey that they keep coming back to hunt. and now you look like a crying child who's sobbing her heart out.
"y/n..." a worried voice called out to you. startled, you wiped your tears and stood up to see who it was. "jungwon–w-what are you doing here?" you swallowed when you said that. "i-i was just going to get some water but then i saw the door was slightly open so i looked to see if anyone is here" he said and also swallowed his own saliva. "a-are you okay?" he looks at you concerned but you just ignored it. "ha... i'm just venting here, i can't sleep–", "you know you can tell me anything, right?" he approached you a little causing you to suddenly get panicked. "h-huh? d-don't worry about me, i'm totally fine–" next thing you knew, he's hugging you.
"even if you say you're fine, i feel like you're not. you can admit that to me, i understand you. and if not, i will understand you… i will try to."
and when he said that, the tears that you'd been holding back since he arrived just plunged. and now, you're a crying mess on his chest. "you can tell me everything, i will listen." as he said stroking your hair. after a few moments of silence and all could hear was your sobbing, you decided to tell a him everything.
"i-i was just a kid... w-when, all the disasters happened..." you start. "at a young age, at a young age i witnessed my mom being hurt because of my father... not physically but i know in her heart, she was hurting... ever since my mom went abroad to support my older siblings, that's when my fater cheated... me and my other older brother were not there yet, so my eldest brother and sister are the ones who e-experienced the suffering from my dad. the worst of the hardships they suffered because my shameless father took in his mistress in our home. took almost every furniture so my older siblings find it hard to survive, almost all of our equipment ended up in his mistress..." you explained.
"but you know what hurts? he touched my freaking sister w-while mom was not there. you know? not only that, apart from some of his attachments, he had a c-child with his other mistresses." i cried while holding his shirt on his chest. "he took drugs, became a drunkard, a womanizer. i grew up witnessing and knowing them because my mother made me aware. and... a-and when the pandemic came... that's when i collapsed like a cliff... i was just sleeping... i'm still young, still young. i woke up to find him on top of me, rubbing his body against me."
there your crying got louder and louder. jungwon didn't say anything even though he was shocked by what you said, instead he hugged you tighter to ease what you're feeling. "i t-told that to my m-mom, she said... she said we she's going to make my dad go to jail, b-but, but it didn't happen... now, now w-we are still living with him under the same roof."
"because of him my life is ruined... j-jungwon, my life is ruined because of him. i don't know how to move forward. because every time i see him, everything comes back... everything. everything i used to do changed. i'm also afraid to wear short clothes, afraid getting close to m-men. then... other than that, various things happened between me and my family... jungw-won, i'm so tired and i don't i know what to do... i don't know how to resolve it." you pulled your hair and continued to cry.
"j-just after those, something... s-something happened with me and my brother. it was also night and i was sleeping peacefully... when i felt my brother behind me and was hugging me... i don't know if it's because of my trauma that am I so s-scared but i feel that he's touching me, i-i told that to my mom again but she just ignored it, she said it's normal for siblings... i know, maybe, but i'm not used to it... only you guys make me feel comfortable... especially y-you. then b-because of that, i thought of running away, they didn't know where i went, they called me by the phone... but i d-didn't answer. t-the river we went to? there was i went, t-they didn't know that place. but because i-i was afraid that if something happens to my mom while she's finding me, so i said i was there, i told my m-mom and she went to see me. she cried, and i didn't mean to make her cry but i want to go away, i want to leave to feel the freedom i've been longing. i don't want to hurt them, i didn't want them to think i'm a rebel, but what can i d-do... that's when i also realized that my sister became a rebel because of what happened to her... n-now, that's not just the only problem i'm having..."
"we're financially unstable and mom is getting old, m-my side line job is not enough to support my c-collage... mom is s-sick, but i can't do anything, i-i want to help her, treat her. b-but i was raised not to be able to express feelings and c-care. i want to h-help her but i just can't. i want to fin-ish my studies but it's hard if we're short on money a-and mom's income is just enough for daily expenses. h-how can i help her in the future if I'm not sure if i have a future. jungwon, i'm s-so tired... i don't know anymore..." your tears didn't have time to dry because they kept flowing.
after you told your story there was huge silence, jungwon just let you cry and pour out your feelings. after what you've said he didn't feel any disgust, irritation, or anything else. he tried to understood you, and even if he didn't feel what you were feeling he understood you. he's there for you, that's the least he's done and could do for you. to be there for you and be your companion thru these tears.
when you calmed down you let go of the hug and looked at him. "thank you, thank you for listening and for not letting me feel my story's nonsense. and for trying to understand me. i am very grateful to you, jungwon." i smiled at him and he wiped my tears.
he smiled back. "shh... i'm here because i want to be the person you can lean on." he holds your right hand and kissed it. at this moment you really know thay he's your solace, a person who you find comfort to. a person who you can tell everything without judgment. a person who try to understand you. a person who's your everything. you love him, so so damn much.
he hugged you once again and broke the hug. you were surprised when he suddenly brought out a box and opened it infront of you. "a necklace?" asked you, he nodded and took it out the box. "i want you to keep this for me. this will serve as your protection whenever I'm not around and whenever you need someone to be with you in what you're going through and what you've been through." he looked at you and slowly attached the necklace. he couldn't help but to smile at the sight of you. you're gorgeous.
he then puts his hands to your cheecks comes closer a bit. "can i?" he asked, asking for assurance.
you nodded, and there he slowly brings his face closer to you until there's no space. he kissed you so gently as if you're something so pure to him and he didn't want to hurt. he kissed you without sexual desire, just full benevolent and endearment. you feel at cloud nine. he then removed his hand from your cheeks and placed it on your waist as you placed your hands on his neck. the kiss deepened and... and... what?...
"y/n, wake up! prof. kim's mad!" said the voice near you. huh? because you haven't woken up and that person shook you. "oh come on, y/n. do you want to be put in detention?" it mutter. when you didn't respond, the person in front speaks loud, "ms. y/n why are you sleeping in my class?!"
you got irritated so you replied loudly, "what?!" the person who tried to wake you up is rather shocked and so is the other students.
"that's it, ms. y/n to the principals office after class. you're already sleeping in my class and now you have the face to scream like that." the professor says who happens to be mr. kim. you looked at the person next to you and saw your best friend. it looks at you like a ghost.
it was all just a dream? wtf?
after the class, apologized to your best friend for how you've acted and immediately packed your things to head to the principals office, when you open your bag you saw a teddy bear you swore wasn't there. "did you put this here?" you asked your best friend who's also packing her stuff.
"no? why would i put that there?" she replied. "maybe you have an admirer," you just look at her confused then suddenly you remember from your dream that you did go to a fair and two people gave a teddy bear to you, it's exactly the same teddy in your dream. then again, you remembered the necklace so you look at them in your bag but there's nothing to be found.
you almost jumped out of your body when you realized that there was a glowing pendant around your neck so you touched it.
"nice necklace, where did you get that?" your best friend asks, and from that moment you became a cement. how can these things be here if you never had anything like this...
could it be real?... isn't that just a dream?
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verdemoun · 4 days
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i’m a bit behind on the timewarp au, so i’m sorry if someone’s already asked this! buuttt… how did everyones sense of fashion change in modern day?
me, sitting here in my decade's old hoodie and pikachu pajama shorts: yes, fashion
Hosea is a v subservient husband who wears anything his wife gets him. Sometimes he's the high fashion old man with the tailors pants and crisp shirt under a blazer. Sometimes it's the rattiest home-made sweater with dropped stitches that somehow matches his $4 slippers and he just looks even older than he is but so snug.
Arthur wears nothing but jeans and t-shirts with the occasional jacket unless someone else picks out clothes for him. He still wears cowboy boots.
Sean and Lenny are all walmart/shein/temu horrid patterns cheap clothing boys. The closest Sean gets to fashion is his pizza delivery uniform. Lenny learns a little bit about fashion by googling 'college outfits for men'.
Charles lives in heavy-duty trade jeans and plaid flannels. Flannel shirt. Too cold for flannel shirt? Black shirt under flannel jacket. Carries high-vis in his truck. Lumberjack core.
Kieran exclusively wears hoodies. Admittedly some are 'nice' hoodies but then comes the impossible challenge of finding pants he will willing wear. He needs to be warned if he's expected to leave the house 2 days in advance to do washing.
Javier lives for the concept of fashion and just looks like an instagram model at all times. Just a diva. It isn't until he shows up and corrects the 1899's gang sense of fashion they actually look decent.
John and Jack both fall in love with emo. Leather jackets, black jeans, chokers. Abigail spends so much on anti-fade laundry detergent.
Abigail and Karen end up with very similar fashion styles. The occasional summer dress but mostly pants, nice shirts - functional clothes for chasing around their demonic little girls. Abigail is a cardigan queen.
Grimshaw would burn her dresses if she could. She discovered the luxury of pants and never looked back. Still rocks a corset though. Anyone brave enough to catcall her is getting tased, pepper-sprayed or shot depending on her mood.
When Dutch isn't in the hospital he still wears basically just his canon era vests, buttoned shirts and fitted pants - in the hospital it's psych-ward issues jammies for him.
Molly looks like a cottage-core queen and has the rolling to pack it up.
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keleren-ie · 13 days
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Soooo...
*shyly tugs at @trickstarbrave 's skirt*
I've been writing something for a while (like, I started in july because I wanted it to be some kind of a birthday gift but huh yeah it's september now). Thanks to you I'm obsessed with nerevoryn now, so here's the result. It's not finished, nor am I satisfied with it but I dont think I'll ever be. So I'm trying to be brave and post it anyway.
It takes place in Moon-and-Star au, after meeting Vivec and before Sil, and is based on a mention of Gilvoth encouraging Nerevar to leave Kogoruhn. Nerevar is having a panic attack for no reason because I wanted Voryn to comfort him.
Anyway here's the thing :
Warning : possibly misused words, typos, and incorrect sentences. I am not a native english speaker.
Voryn was standing still, careful not to move as the tailor took measurements and stuck pins here and there. Now that he had finally stopped growing, his mother had decided that it was about time his ceremonial robes as future leader of House Dagoth were prepared. It was a pragmatic decision, as always with Morvani Dagoth : she still had years, maybe decades before passing out. But she anticipated it anyway, knowing full well that her son would have enough things to handle after her death, not to add standing not moving for hours for new clothes. Besides, those took time to sew and embroider, and he would need them quickly once he’d become the new head.
So there he was, lost in his mind and surrounded by a very punctilious and meticulous tailor, her assistants and apprentices, and a few servants. And Gilvoth was there too, for some reason. Voryn wasn’t really sure why exactly his oldest brother had invited himself, but there he was, standing in a corner of the room like he was keeping watch.
Voryn was used to this, but he was still bored, staring at the mirror in front of him while a maid did his hair. And so it was a relief when he saw the door opening and Nerevar’s head appeared, glancing inside. His until now neutral face cracked into a warm smile seeing his friend, and Nerevar smiled in return. His face was a little red, and he seemed slightly out of breath. He must have rushed here after his morning training, without taking time to drink or clean himself.
“Neht !” Voryn greeted him with a smile, and everyone turned their heads in his direction as Nerevar smiled back.
“Hey-“ The tailor cut him off “Oh no, out here you ! This room is already too crowded.” she snapped, motioning him to go away. Gilvoth stood up, and she corrected herself. “I didn’t mean this about you my lord, we are nearly done anyway” but he waved it off and mumbled something about having things to do anyway. Then the door closed, and Voryn was back to the pins.
It upset him that Nerevar was sent away so rudely, but then again the tailor had a point. The room was indeed crowded, but he wasn’t happy about it still. He would just have to wait for the trying-on session to be over, then.
Thankfully, they were actually nearly done and after a few more long minutes Voryn was allowed to leave. He rushed towards Nerevar’s room, eager to see his best friend. Despite him living in Kogoruhn, they had not seen each other much in the past few weeks. Of course Voryn had been busy as always, but there seemed to be something else.
Nerevar had changed in the last few years. Not that much, he was still himself, but he seemed more secretive than before. Back when they were children and teenagers, his best friend would tell him absolutely everything and never hide anything from him. But now Neht sometimes lied to Voryn when he asked him if everything was alright. Of course Voryn knew he was lying, he knew Nerevar well enough to see it immediatly. But he had pretented not to see it. Maybe it was simply because they were now both adults. Maybe it was because of that blow Nerevar took to the head a few years ago...Voryn didn’t know, and that incertitude killed him slowly but surely. Part of him tried to accept it ; it wasnt uncommon for childhood friends to grow apart after all, and if Nerevar wanted to leave he was free to do so. But by Mephala did he want to keep Nerevar by his side, as selfish as it was.
As he approached Nerevar’s room, Voryn noticed that the door was cracked open and there were voices coming from inside.
“I mean Voryn no harm, I swear ! He is my best friend and-“ That was Nerevar’s voice, defending himself. He was cut off by an angry voice Voryn knew just as well. “Don’t give me that shit you little s’wit !” Gilvoth. Voryn sped up, ready to defend his friend. He didn’t know what accusations Gilvoth had thrown at Nerevar, but if it implied hurting Voryn of fucking course he was wrong. “Do you think I am stupid ?! Or blind ? You sleeping next to him is already far too much. Be responsible once in your life and leave before you make something stupid. Think about-“
“What exactly are you talking about ?” Voryn threw open the door and stepped in, a snarl on his face.
---
After Nerevar got the door shut in his face, he retreated to his room. He was dirty from his earlier training session after all, and intended to clean himself up and change his clothes before he'd get a chance to see Voryn again. His mind trailed off as he walked, wondering how Voryn would look in ceremonial robes as the leader of House Dagoth. Of course he would look good, Voryn was a stunningly beautiful mer. But how exactly would he look ? His hair would look like a night sky, with stars of gold in it. The ceremonial markings on his face would be divine too, Nerevar knew it. Already his usual make-up was gorgeous, but the perspective of seeing Voryn as a lord in all his glory was so much. Gods knew Voryn deserved to be worshipped just as much as the good Three.
Even lost in his thoughts, Nerevar quickly noticed with surprise that Gilvoth was following him. Actually, Voryn’s brother followed him all the way to his room, and came inside without asking. Did he want to lecture Nerevar about disturbing Voryn in his duties ? It wouldnt be the first time. So many times Voryn's brothers - especially Gilvoth and Vemyn - had lectured him about his behaviour, his manners, or how he was dragging Voryn down. Most of the times when their younger brother wasnt around. Bunch of s'wits.
Gilvoth wore his lecture face, and when he pushed the door and put his hands on his hips, Nerevar prepared himself to endure whatever would be thrown at him. But he hadn't anticipated what was coming.
"I want you to stop disturbing Voryn during his duties. Or after. Don't you think it's time you leave him alone ?"
"I am not disturbing him," Nerevar countered "Voryn takes his role very seriously, if I bothered him he wouldn't hesitate to ask me to leave and-"
Gilvoth let out a loud sigh of exasperation. "I’ve had enough of your attitude." He snapped. "I have warned you already about staying away from my brother ! He is actively preparing to become our future lord now, so I don’t want to see you crawling around him, trying to ruin it. "
Nerevar opened his mouth, and closed it. "What ? I'm not-"
"Don't pretend you don't know ! I've seen how you look at him. Do you even realize this may cause rumors, scandals ? Do you even fucking care ?!" Gilvoth spat trough his teeth, a furious glare in his red eyes, and Nerevar started to panic.
Of course, he knew full-well what Gilvoth was talking about. He had always loved Voryn very dearly, but since a few years he had accepted the obvious truth that he actually did love Voryn, not simply as a friend. How could he not ? Voryn was the kindest soul he knew. Of course, not to most people. The young heir of House Dagoth could be cold, vicious and manipulative. But that knowledge only made his behaviour toward Nerevar sweeter. Knowing that his face was stern for others, but smiling for him. That he was composed and polite with strangers, but relaxed and sassy with Nerevar. That he loved critizing people, but always had words of encouragement for him. Of course he loved Voryn.
And of course Nerevar knew he didn't stand a chance. He was perfectly aware of the situation, actually. He knew Voryn was expected to marry another noble, to forge a strong alliance and have his own heirs in time. Besides, he had never shown any sign of affection apart from their friendship. And meanwhile Nerevar had been allowed to work for house Dagoth only because Morvani Dagoth loved spoiling her youngest son. Now that he was an adult, it was only a matter of time before they kicked him out. And maybe it was time.
But gods Nerevar wanted more. He wanted to stay at Voryn's side so much. To watch him become a lord. To serve him. As much as it was foolish.
“I mean Voryn no harm, I swear ! He is my best friend and-“
Gilvoth started to yell even more, and Nerevar winced. If he kept screaming everyone would hear and know, including Voryn. And he really didn't want-
The door was thrown open, and Voryn stepped inside, furious. Nerevar's face turned white, and his mind turned off.
---
Voryn walked into the room, ready to demand answers from Gilvoth, but before his stupid brother could say anything Nerevar stormed out, running like he was chased by a daedra.
"Neht ?!" Voryn called him, alarmed. He turned to Gilvoth once more. "What were you talking about ? What did you tell him ?"
Gilvoth seemed to hesitate. Clearly he was poundering his options. He couldn't get away with a lie : Nerevar was clearly distressed when he left, unable to look at Voryn.
"Gilvoth." Voryn spoke again, raising his voice. He was the future lord of House Dagoth, and brother or not Gilvoth would explain himself. "What. Did you. Tell him ?"
---
Nerevar ran like a devil through the streets outside the stronghold, his heart pounding in his chest.
Voryn knew. Voryn had heard Gilvoth, and now he hated him. He had looked so furious when he had entered the room, and no doubt he never wanted to see Nerevar again. Nerevar was already on thin ice with House Dagoth, but it seemed now they would finally kick him out.
He stopped at a small foutain, panting. He was panicking. Nerevar was well aware of it, but still his reasoning was perfectly sound. What other reaction might have Voryn had ? Why would anyone want to keep him after this ? He knew for a fact nobody except Voryn appreciated him here. It wasnt paranoia, it was sadly true.
And if he was being completely honest, it was doomed to happen sooner or later. Nerevar knew Voryn cared about him a lot, sometimes to the point of stupidity when they were younger. But now they were adults, and already Voryn had less and less time to spare with him. Despite living in the same stronghold - despite having their rooms in the same hallway - they had started to see each other less and less frequently over the last year. Slowly but surely they were growing apart already. At least their friendship would end swiftly then, instead of years and years of agony before they became strangers.
And he didn’t want it to end like their first life either, when he was nothing but a toxic tyrant keeping the mer he was obsessed with by his side. He knew Voryn didn’t love him in that lifetime, why would things be different now ? All Nerevar knew was that he couldn't bear to hurt Voryn with his selfishness again.
Nerevar needed to leave. But he ran away in such a hurry that he left all his stuff behind. His travel pack, his clothes, his sword...he couldn't leave without them. Maybe he could get them back tonight ? Go back to his room once everyone was asleep, collect his things and quietly leave Kogoruhn. And if he was expected he'd explain he was just packing to leave and would never bother them again. Yeah. Maybe that could work.
---
Voryn was besides himself trying to find Nerevar. He was still furious that his brother tried to shove Nerevar away, and worried for Neht. Nerevar had looked terrified and distressed after all, likely having a panic attack when he realized what Voryn had heard. Nerevar always acted like a strong and confident person, and he was up until a point. But Voryn also knew that he had always been afraid of rejection because of his childhood, and likely didn't want to face Voryn at the moment.
But mostly Voryn was overwhelmed by joy and hope, as selfish as it was. Nerevar loved him. He wasn't completely sure of it yet, but it made a lot of sense. "Maybe Nerevar loved him" was enough to make his heart flutter too. Voryn had hidden his feelings up until now, certain that Nerevar only liked him as a friend and very aware of the power imbalance between them. What if he confessed but Nerevar felt forced to play along ? But apparently, from what Gilvoth said and from Nerevar’s reaction...Neht loved him.
Nerevar was likely hiding away somewhere in Kogoruhn, if he hadn't left the town entirely. At least Nerevar was easy to spot, with his white hair and light skin. Most people in House Dagoth had darker hair and skin, not to mention that a lot of people knew him because he was the young lord's friend.
After asking the guards if Nerevar had left the city ("No, young lord") and to lead him gently back to the stronghold should he try to leave ("Yes, young lord"), Voryn went back to Nerevar’s room. He tried to remain calm but really he was worried for Nerevar.
Voryn had seen Nerevar a few times when he was in distress, and knew just how he didn’t do well alone in this kind of situations. He could be paranoid when triggered, and likely wouldn't calm down without someone he trusted by his side. And Voryn was about the only person Nerevar trusted. Maybe he could go to Vivec's place - the simple thought made Voryn furious - but it was unlikely.
Voryn was getting anxious, and hoped his hypothesis that Nerevar would return to his room at some point was correct. As he looked around, he could see that Neht had left without his sword. If there was one thing his stupid beloved 'guard' wouldn't abandon, it was his blade. All Voryn had to do was to wait. The chances of finding Nerevar by searching the city around the stronghold was too uncertain. He just had to be patient.
---
By the time the sun set, Nerevar had calmed down enough to compose himself and walk back to the stronghold, praying to the Good Three he would not cross anyone's path. Especially Voryn's. The guards and servants were ignoring him as usual, at least. Nerevar made his way to his room, half-expecting to find it empty with Gilvoth, Vemyn or Uthol ready to lecture him and kick him out for good. He inhaled deeply and opened the door.
His stuff was still here. But most importantly, Voryn was here. Nerevar opened his mouth in shock, as panick overwhelmed him all over again. He tensed, managed to mumble something along the line of "I'm sorry" and turned, ready to run away. Again. But before he could a spell hit him and he froze, paralyzed.
Now he was panicking.
---
Voryn was stupid. The most stupid idiotic dumbass of Resdayn.
After hours of anxious waiting, Nerevar had returned to his room. But upon seeing Voryn he mumbled something unintelligible and was about to run away. Panic got the better of him and he cast a spell to paralyze Nerevar. What kind of friend did this ? Voryn rushed to Nerevar, embracing him firmly before casting dispell and apologizing profusely.
"I'm so sorry Neht ! Gods I'm an idiot, I didn't mean to-" Nerevar was still as stiff as when he was paralyzed, but quickly Voryn felt him shaking in his arms. He tightened his embrace, knowing it had helped with Nerevar’s panic attacks in the past.
"It's okay, Neht. I'm here. I don’t know what's going on in your head but everything is alright" Voryn said softly, stroking Nerevar’s back with one hand and caressing his head with the other. "I-I'm sorry, Voryn, I'm so sorry..." Nerevar spoke with a shaky voice. "I'll leave Kogoruhn, I won't mess up your life anymore, I-" his voice cracked. "You don't have to pretend anything, I understand that you're upset with me and-"
Now Nerevar was just being delirious. Leaving Kogoruhn ? Messing up his life ? Voryn couldn't live without Nerevar. He needed him by his side. "Neht, please look at me" he said, his voice gentle and soft. Nerevar's breath was uneven, and after a few moments Voryn lifted his chin. His heart sunk seeing how devastated Nerevar looked, and as soon as their eyes met Neht's face twisted even more, and tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
Voryn simply couldn't bear the sight. To oblivion with being cautious, he cupped his beloved's face and whispered "I love you". He saw many emotions cross Nerevar's eyes : shock, incredulity, hope, before he broke into heavy sobs, returning the embrace and hiding his face in Voryn's robes. Voryn started rubbing Nerevar's scalp, and resumed rubbing his back. "It's okay" he whispered, "let it out, Neht".
It was a bit awkward to confess and get a crying mer as a result, but likely Nerevar was still coping with his panic attack and had not yet fully processed what Voryn said.
Voryn tilted his head to press a kiss to Nerevar's head, and immediatly realized he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Holding Nerevar in his arms, whispering how much he loved him and would never leave him and peppering him with soft, tender kisses was everything he ever dreamt. And he did just that, pressing kiss after kiss on Nerevar’s face until the crying stopped.
"I'm sorry, I don’t know what happened" Nerevar finally whispered, looking down. Voryn was drying his cheeks from the spilled tears now, and slightly frowned. "What are you sorry for ? I love you, Neht".
Ah, how he loved that spark in Nerevar's eyes when he said that.
"No, I mean...sorry for. Panicking like this and causing a scene. I thought you were mad at me and that it made sense. You're a lord and well-"
"And you're the bravest, smartest, kindest and most beautiful mer I know" Voryn stated firmly. Nerevar looked up to meet his eyes, and there was so much love and adoration in his gaze that Voryn couldn't speak for three solid seconds. All he knew was that he desperately wanted to kiss him. But before that he needed to be sure, to hear it from Neht-
Voryn cupped Nerevar’s face, and with a hint of hesitation asked "What about you ? Do you...want me...?" And before he knew it Nerevar’s lips crashed against his, and his eyes fluttered shut as he moaned softly. It was incredible. Intense, hungry and desperate, just like them. Nerevar's tongue started to play with his own, and his hands gripped Voryn's waist.
"Yes. Yes, I love you, yes I want you more than anything !" Nerevar panted against Voryn's lips.
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mihrsuri · 8 months
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🕊🐧🦤?
🥰🥰🥰🥰
🕊️ a sweet quote (something sweet, fluffy! maybe it’s cute or funny banter! or sappy wedding vows!)
The children have been and now they have withdrawn to give them both a moment alone, just the two of them - one moment before Anne will have to pretend to the world that she has not lost both halves of her sundered soul. But she will smile for her Thomas, her steady hand even though she cannot stop her tears.  “You were so brave, my darling, my heart. So brave when you should never had to have been so - all your life you have been so brave. You can rest now, my sweetheart. Close your eyes and I will hold you.”
(Okay yes it’s sad but it’s also one of the sweetest things I’ve written I think)
🐧 a funny quote (silly! laughs! jokes! puns!)
Zoey looked at her sister with a conspiratorial air. “You know how Ellie is Toby’s favourite and I’m Josh and Sam’s? Well you are CJ’s?” “ME. I’m CJ’s favourite. CJ ‘our fathers chief media adviser who I have kind of a crush on’ Cregg’s favourite? Zoey, you chose this moment to tell me, when I could have totally leveraged...”  “I’d take my vengenance upon you Zoey but you have my nibling in there and also I don’t want to spoil your outfit because CJ would murder me and not in a fun way.”
(This is a little ‘Bartlets as the British Royal Family AU’)
🦤 a quote you had to delete :( (but still wanna share!)
”How are you even still alive and why do I help you remain so?” “My stunning good looks” Danny elbows Josh in the ribs for that one and they find themselves seats in a corner of the ‘a capital interpretation of a rustic district twelve dive bar’ that seems to be on every second corner these days. Unfortunately the food is good, which annoys Danny more than he can say. They find a booth, order and both of them manage not to get in a fight with two other patrons who are talking loudly about how hot Sam Seaborn is without a shirt as they wait for CJ. When she walks in it’s not Victor!CJ (which is essentially sleekly tailored gowns, diamonds and the kind of make up that screams ‘glamorous weapon’) but CJ in her oldest jeans and a sweatshirt. She’s carrying a coffee from the best coffee shop in the capital and she’s clearly apprehensive, however much the rest of the world might not know it.
(A West Wing Hunger Games scene that didn’t make it into the actual fic)
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greypetrel · 2 years
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One for an ambush!
[ Click here for the girls || Click here for the boys || Click here for the last party member ]
More Three Musketeers? More Three Musketeers.
They were lucky they didn’t have to travel to Ferelden to retrieve the lost locket and save the Queen from a quicker demise, am I right?
Well here we are, as usual these days I wrote something about it. I may indulge in a full AU, this is much more a retelling with period-appropriate clothing (and Cassandra in a dress because the idea was funny).
***
At two in the morning, our three brave adventurers barged out of the Empress’ private quarters running back to the ballroom. They ran in the dark corridors in a tense silence: they had already bested so many ambushes that expecting another only seemed natural. They were all tired, and even Dorian couldn’t pretend anymore he was having fun at the Winter Palace, and had stopped trying to lighten the mood up two rooms ago.
All was silent, except for them: fretful steps echoing in the rich corridors covered in golden stuccos, heavy breathing and Cassandra’s shield making her dress frush whilst she ran, and the Seeker grumbling about it, irritated still after the whole evening. Aisling had the elven locket well secured in her tailored bodice -not so proper and retrieving it would surely cause some gasps if she wasn’t cautious about it, but she was more confident not to lose it that way, pockets just didn’t seem so secure in the chance of fighting. She had finally made her decision, the locket was crucial for her plans and time was running out. She caught sight of Cole, appearing near a glass door a little before them, and she need no further indication to correct her steps and run towards the spirit boy. She knew her friends would have followed.
She was almost at the door when the Anchor on her left hand activated, sending a jolt of electricity up her nerves. She hissed in discomfort and stopped abruptly, big skirt frushing in protest, clutching her left fist and holding her arm close to her chest. She could hear her heart thumping in her ears as she caught her breath and waited for the pain to subside a little. It wasn’t the constant background pain of Haven, when the Breach had been open and the mark itched constantly, but when she approached some rifts, it spiked and flared and for a couple of minutes it burned very uncomfortably. Which right now meant-
“Are you ok darling?” Dorian asked, in a low voice as he panted and caught his breath, rubbing her back nonetheless. Her dress was so tailored she couldn’t exactly feel it much, but she appreciated the gesture anyway, soothing as it was.
“Yes. It’s better now, I’m ok. But-“ She replied, and she was sincere.
“But, if there’s a rift, we found the assassin.” Cassandra concluded. She knew by now that it was her way of caring: just acting and doing things for you so you could rest. She turned and smiled at her, nodding in agreement.
“Well, saved us the trouble of slipping in yet another wing of the palace and get even more sweaty.” Dorian added, shrugging it off with sarcasm.
“Pride, sneer, she thinks she has won, dreams of a crowned head in a sea of blood, everything burns but she laughs at it.” Cole added his own.
“So it’s a she.”
Aisling huffed, lowering her arm and flexing her fingers to get used to the prickling of the Anchor, its green light casting an eerie glow on the marble pavement -who had marble as floor?- and on the red satin of her outer skirt, her right hand grabbing her staff more securely.
“I think I have an idea of whom she may be.” She added, grimly.
She casted glances first to Dorian, who smiled at her and nodded, signalling he was ready; then to Cole, who still looked paler than usual in the discomfort of so many people around, but whose blue eyes shone with determination. Lastly she looked at Cassandra, who looked as pristine as ever -and very weird in the dress that Josephine had forced her to wear- and still unstoppable even after hours of sneaking and fighting, and was the first to speak.
“Ready when you are, Inquisitor.”
“Let’s go kick some more asses.”
“Ready, eager, a last bout of energy. Let this end here.”
She smiled at them all, she wanted a group hug so bad, but there wasn’t time right now. Not if they wanted to save the Empress. That locket had to return to the ruler, and then she would have hugged them all. Right now, words would have to do.
“I’m glad it’s you kicking asses with me, my friends. One for all.”
“And all for one.” Cassandra replied, smiling with amusement at the quotation.
Aisling straightened her spine, put on her best Inquisitor face and marched out of the glass doors in the little courtyard. As she was imagining, there was a last ambush waiting for them. Duchess Florianne smiled at her, and after some -very stupid- confession of her being the mastermind behind the assassination attempt, left her to fend off a Fade Rift.
It was indeed time for another dance: this time, tho, it was her favourite steps, and with some of her favourite people. She raised her staff and let thunder and lightning dance with them.
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lorei-writes · 2 years
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Foolishly Ever After
Nobunaga x MC Fluff Family AU
A little sweet something.
Request: Anonymous Prompt: "MC and Nobunagas married life with kids "
Content Warnings: pregnancy
“Then think about how we should tell our son that he’ll soon be an older brother,” she laughed. His heart quivered at the sound. “Do you think it’s safe now?” “I think so, yeah.”
“Fireball, don’t stir so much,” Nobunaga breathed out. His voice was barely a murmur, hardly more than the most hushed of whispers, as if his usual decisiveness was soaked through with a new kind of concern.
“You know I can’t help it –” Mai inhaled sharply, his lips brushing against the nape of her neck. “Stop it.”
“I thought it would help you relax.”
Mai pushed herself up on her elbow. The night air was little different from a cat, the greedy creature rushing below their futon cover. The main distinction between the two was that it’s intention was to cool their bodies down, perhaps to preserve some gasps, and most definitely not to heat them up any further. She wobbled slightly, each of her movements contributing to the earthquake-like tremors shaking the mountain of blankets piled over her. Her husband nearly drowned below the tsunami of shed layers, but she did manage to free her legs. Finally able to move, Mai sat on her heels, moon-the tailor taking her measurements with its silver tape. Nobunaga watched it work carefully, light outlining the contours of her body… The winds she breathed out swept him away. He knew he could not be saved the moment his eyes lay on the slight bump hidden below her yukata. Not that he wished to be saved.
“It’s not our first,” Mai sighed, rubbing onto her eyes with her palm.
He could not comprehend how seeing her in this state for even the hundredth time would be any different from the first.
“I want to make it easier on you,” he opposed. Nobunaga made himself a fool, an impudent one at that – he fought against the flood of the duvets, he braved the scorching plains of their bed that separated them; he even dared ignore the blizzard lingering in her breath. He, merely a mortal, was audacious enough to reach for her, the creation herself. He put a hand over her stomach, what he assumed to be magma flowing below her skin… And in her grace, this odd mundane goddess that he held was kind enough to cup his face. Mai drew him forward, urged him to press his forehead against hers.
“Then think about how we should tell our son that he’ll soon be an older brother,” she laughed. His heart quivered at the sound.
“Do you think it’s safe now?”
“I think so, yeah.”
He couldn’t find the right words to reply. Instead, he ran his fingers down the length of her back, tense muscles shivering below his touch.
“Lay down. I want you to rest from now on.”
Nobunaga was a busy man. That much had never changed – not after he got married, not after their first son was born, and most definitely, not now, when they were awaiting their second child. If anything, his life had only got more hectic with each fortunate twist of events, and he was not so certain he knew how to navigate through its meanders at times. He certainly did not know then.
The placement of the stones over the go board was unlike anything Nobunaga had ever seen before. It did not obey by any rules, pieces overlapping over spaces, forming patterns that could not be achieved by any strategy tangible to an adult mind. However, a toddler, a toddler surely could comprehend all of that.
“Papa, I win,” his son declared, setting another black stone on the outside of a circle.
“That you do.” Nobunaga smiled. His son was barely three years old, but wasn’t his mind sharp already? He couldn’t hold back his pride, a simple flower having somehow grown over the board.
“I want a wish.”
“A wish?” he echoed. Indeed, the victor could make demands… Yet, perhaps, it was not the greatest of ideas to let his son rule over anything other than his toys just yet. The boy nodded his head in reply and stood up. Slowly, he walked towards his father.
“I want a little sister or brother,” he whispered into his ear, a serious expression over his face. “Can I get one?”
“Well, you see…”
Nobunaga had never felt more of a fool than when with his family. Some things he was simply unable to predict. But he loved every moment of it.
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mafik-sun · 5 months
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I remembered how I participated in Mickey and Minnie Week. In addition to the AUs that I tried to implement (Stories from Mouseton, AU with Manon), I decided to illustrate Mouses from my other AUs (Fantasia Valley and The Little Keeper). And today another idea has appeared - the AU Brave Little Tailor with the participation of Oswald.
And so, the question is: which AUs should I tell you more about? What would you be most interested in knowing?
To get acquainted with each story, I leave links to posts here: Stories from Mouseton; Fantasia Valley; The Little Keeper; BLT AU.
So... You can ask questions about any AU you like. It's time to get active on the blog!✨
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macawritesupdates · 5 months
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Oh I loved the pokemon au so much it was so cute! I absolutely loved when the pokemon refused to attack each other yuuji's response was so cute
“Huh, well Tsubasa, if you want to just take a little break before using hyperbeam, that’s okay. I guess I can wait,”
Ahh he's so sweet
Man the pokemon were so cute together I kinda wish yuuji and sukuna skipped the fight and joined in on the cuddling instead. Who's got time for punching when there's a baby on the way.
“He really couldn’t believe out of all the fools on earth. It was Yuuji Itadori that had to be his.” loved this line so much. Yeah sure kuna how awful for you tell us more about your woes. That handsome kind brave brat sure is the worst, huh?
OK I'm trying to decide which pokemon yuuji would have on his team I'm not much of a pokemon player though so no idea if this team would be good in battle
Dreepy, arctibax, Duraludon, kommo-o, Deino, and of course his dragonite. I think he could also get a Silvally because if he met a type null, they would definitely bond (they're both tailor-made living weapons, not that yuuji would know that). he could give it the dragon type memory. The only downside to yuuji being primarily a dragon type trainer is that I can't put a togepi on his team 😢 or a mew, those two would be so adorable together they are both pink cuties. I'd love to know what pokemon are on both their full teams.
See, I always find it hard to plan out the teams of characters because I'm the sort of person that plays the same dang team in every game every time 83
Also I play a TON of Pokemon Snap because I just wanna take cool pictures of my favorite pokemon! <3
Yuuji has a preference for dragon-types, but I see him getting all sorts of types as a general lover of pokemon! His Dragonite was just a special one he probably has raised since he was very small as the egg was given to him by his pops in my head c: Also dragonites are friendly beans that rescue people at sea...very Yuuji!
I'm sure though the pokemon wished their trainers would stop being so loud and cuddle. Going to set bad example for the baby!
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halcyonicreveries · 10 months
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Do you like AUs with vampires and witches and ghosts (and also maybe werewolves and other exciting things in future chapters), because I sure accidentally started writing that!!
Precious - Chapter One
under the cut or on ao3
M/M Aymeric/WoL, Teen rating at the moment for descriptions of big ouchies and vampire bites.
Encouraged by their mutual friend Haurchefant, a witch from the Black Shroud helps an injured vampire that takes refuge in his shop one night. Aymeric is handsome and kind, and Augus'to can't help but be drawn to him, but will going out of his way to help the other man call the past he's been hiding from out to haunt them all?
To the northwest of Ishgard is an old Coerthan city. Traditionally a quiet place where the well-to-do and nobles of the past had built their indulgent summer homes to retire near the great lake during the hotter part of the year, it had recently seen an influx of tourism and and new residents inspired by it's cozy old timey atmosphere. This, in turn, brought a modernization that contrasted with the style that had attracted people in the first place.
The bit of town where Augus'to lived was in an area where this was particularly well exemplified.  His own place was a comfortable apartment behind a little shopfront, in a remodeled old home. From the street it was hardly recognizable as a retail building, retaining as much of the original character as possible and hidden behind an beautiful but sturdy old wrought iron gate. The garden landscaping, containing a mix of both decorative and useful plants, helped to give the appearance of a homey residence.
Several surrounding blocks had once been similar houses and many of them, like Augus'to's shop, still stood in some form or another. Others had been completely razed, replaced with modern tourist shops, small restaurants, and parking lots. A few looked as if they had never been touched in years, and even the locals debated if anyone was still truly living in them, or if they were occupied only by ghosts of the past. He loved the curious contrast of the bright corner store next to a melancholy old house, it's garden still perfectly neat and trim behind decorative fences. It left a feeling as if ringing the bell would bring a neatly tailored butler in full proper dress just as easily as you would find a colorful clerk one building over.
It wasn't particularly unusual to be stirred to wakefulness by a bump in the night. Be it out of towners, stray animals, or kids playing pranks to see if the foreign witch from the deep woods would try to catch them; there were plenty of distractions even in the darkest hours of the day. The Miqo'te had grown used to to reaching out and checking the properties' wards quickly at their warning before falling back asleep once he'd ascertained everything was safe. Nothing worse than harmless trouble had come of it yet, and the few who made it as far as the front porch were run off quickly with a new ghost story to tell.
It was a strange part of town, and sometimes that came with sounds and distractions from the street, or even the yard when the kids were brave. 
Waking to those bumps and noises coming from inside the house was a new and considerably more alarming experience. 
Augus'to tensed under the covers, ears turned up and alert. It had come from inside, hadn't it?
There was another quiet thud, like something heavy bumping into the wall. It sounded like it was coming from the shop.
Why hadn't he felt the wards being crossed? They weren't physically able to stop anyone, but they were strong and something had gotten in the house his realizing. Something besides Haurchefant, who couldn't interact with solid objects anyway. He could become corporeal enough to spook trespassers and perhaps flicker the lights or give them a chill. That was it.
Should he call for him? Should he find his phone and call... no, he didn't want to deal with the authorities if he didn't have to. They were slow, and often nosier than they were helpful.
Instead, quietly  as possible, ignoring the speeding of his heart, he slipped from his bed and made his way from the room. 
He tried to keep his breath as calm and steady as possible, listening for any other noises as he crept to the front of the building. Everything was silent again, and he prayed it had been his imagination that something had gotten in. If something dangerous had gotten past his barriers and into the house, surely it would have done something else by now.
Passing through the kitchen area that was the threshold between the apartment and back entry to the shop, he grabbed one of his brooms. It wasn't much, but it felt a little better to have something firm in his hands. At the very least he could flail around with it to keep an attacker at bay.
The moonlight was dim, and he didn't want to risk turning on a light that would make it obvious he was up and alert. Instead he cast his eyes about the main shop, searching through the dark for anything out of place. The door was closed. Large dark areas of space stood where cupboards full of homegrown herbs and other supplies were locked up for the night. It was difficult to see specifics in the dim lighting, but nothing appeared to be moving. 
Feeling a little more confident he finally flipped the main lights on. Walking into the open space, the Miqo'te's fur stood on end and he found himself holding back a shriek as he saw the scene in full.
There was what appeared to be a young man, clothes torn and bleeding, propped up against the font of the cupboard. Slumped forward, his head lolled to the side and both arms fell to his sides like he'd been tossed there without the energy to right himself.  Even hurt and curled in on himself he was clearly must taller than Augus'to. An Elezen, judging by the ears poking through his wavy black hair. 
With the figure so still in the dark, Augus'to had been unable to see he was there. He hadn't even moved when the light had turned on, surely he wasn't -
Augus'to crept closer, heart beating so hard he fancied he could hear it himself.
"Don't," a voice from the man warned, strained but sharp and clear. "Don't get any closer."
His lips barely moved enough to speak, and Augus'to realized that otherwise he was perfectly still. Was he even breathing? The Miqo'te shuddered, gripping the broom handle tight as a safety blanket, the fur of his tail still fluffed as it held cautiously still.
"How did you get into my house?" He finally asked, desperate to fill the silence with something other than his speeding heartbeat.
For a moment he thought there wasn't going to be a response, but finally there was a quiet reply. "This is Haurchefant's house. Who are you."
Augus'to got the impression that if the man had had more energy there would have been considerable emphasis on the you. Possibly accusatory. 
"...Haurchefant is dead," he replied flatly, not able to think straight enough to put it more delicately. "and I bought this house, it's mine. How did you get past my wards?"
"So am I. And it's still his house, he gave me permission long ago,"  the man growled back and then groaned. Finally moving, he leaned his head back to rest against the door behind him.
Augus'to's mind ran through the information frantically. Past permission was enough to allow him through the wards without even causing enough of a fuss to wake him? And he really didn't appear to be breathing, aside from when he spoke, his body eerily still. And oh gods, his neck was...
"Are - are you okay?" Augus'to stammered, once again moving closer despite himself. When it came down down to it, it was simply in his nature to help someone who was injured, even a complete stranger who had somehow gotten into his shop to bleed all over it. And he was certainly bleeding. The witch wasn't particularly skilled at anatomy, but that he could speak clearly was surprising given the gash in his neck. Now that he wasn't as hunched over it was clear that his torso wasn't faring well, either. In fact, it was likely none of him was in a good state at all. It hadn't sounded like he'd been kidding when he said he was dead, but...
"Where's Haurchefant?" The man ground out in lieu of answering.
Where was Haruchefant? It wasn't as if he showed up at every disturbance, but he had been up for a while making noise at this point and even when he wasn't present he still existed somehow, tied to the house. The easiest way to find him would be to go up to the attic and poke around in the corner he'd taken to hanging out in, but there was absolutely no way Augus'to was turning his back on this man, even half-dead, or actually dead, or whatever he was. 
Instead, he backed up, took a deep breath, and bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"HAURCHEFANT WAKE UP AND GET DOWN HERE OR I'M CANCELING ALL THE NAUGHTY CABLE CHANELS YOU DON'T SEEM TO REALIZE I'M THE ONE PAYING FOR."
The stranger bleeding out on his floor managed to look up at him with wide, shocked eyes at the sudden shout.
When he felt the slight draft and strange, static-y feeling that made his fur feel funny and meant the ghost was around Augus'to shrugged self-consciously. It had worked, hadn't it?
"Those cost extra? My apologies, I wasn't aware," Haurchefant apologized breezily as he faded into view. Following Augus'to's line of sight, his own eyes widened in surprise. 
"...gods. Aymeric, is that you?"
The possibly dead man maybe named Aymeric grunted in what Augus'to assumed was assent. 
"How long has it been? And you finally drag yourself here all torn up. What am I supposed to be able to do to help you when I'm like this?" It was the saddest Augus'to had ever heard the ghost, and he wasn't sure if that should endure himself to the stranger or not. Haurchefant seemed to care for him, but that didn't mean he was a good person, and he didn't like hearing the ghost so upset.
"Even if you can't patch me up I'll be able to heal myself eventually with enough rest. I just need someplace to hide out of the way."
"Sure, let me dig up a coffin for you." 
Despite the bitter words, he turned and looked to Augus'to, beseeching, "August, please. I can't do anything for him, but you can. Let him feed from you."
"What." Aymeric interrupted flatly. "No, I can't do that. It's fine I'll just sleep for -"
"For what, the next fifty years, starving, while whatever did that to you is out and about?"
Augus'to shuddered. He didn't know if Aymeric was strong or not, in comparison to whatever had put him in his current state, but he thought Haurchefant was right. They needed to at least know what was going on if something dangerous was out there.
He swallowed and asked, afraid he already knew the answer, "what do you mean, feed?"
"It's fine," Haurchefant assured, "he's a just a vampire."
Of course he was. Just a vampire, who could come into his shop through the barrier because even when it was closed to the public Haurchefant still considered the building his enough that his ancient permissions still granted him entry.
Aymeric scoffed. "Yes, mortals have ever considered us just vampires. I'm too hungry. It's too dangerous like this."
 "Well, vampires aren't much of a step up from ghosts, now are they?" 
Haurchefant sounded much too chipper for discussing his bleeding-out friend eating Augus'to as a quick pick-me-up. "Besides," the ghost added as the area immediately surrounding them chilled, just a little, in warning, "he's my friend too, and I will stop you from going to far."
Aymeric sighed heavily, and it occurred to Augus'to that given his apparent lack of need to breathe, he was doing it entirely for show, just to be petty.
"Very well. August, was it? If you would be kind enough to allow me to further take advantage of your hospitality, and you trust this foolish friend of ours enough, I would be most appreciative."
"Augus'to," Augus'to corrected, uncomfortable with a stranger calling him by a friendly nickname. Ideally he wouldn't be telling strangers his name at all. He shot an irritated glace over at Haurchefant. The ghost was watching him carefully, a tense expression on his face as he waited to hear his answer.
"I can't do much," the intangible man admitted, "but I promise if he goes too far I'll be furious enough to stop him. You're my friend, and a part of house I'm attached to. I can protect you," he swore.
Nodding in reply, Augus'to took a steadying breath. 
"What do I need to do?" He asked, trying desperately to keep his voice even, if only to convince himself that he was perfectly fine with this and it was not scary at all. He had been through much worse, even.
Haurchefant relaxed at the question, though Aymeric did not.
"Come here," he prompted. "I'm afraid it would be too much effort to move someplace more comfortable."
Augus'to cautiously moved closer, kneeling and setting the broom he'd been clutching aside as he approached. "Do you need to, um," he shifted some of his long hair out of the way and motioned vaguely in the direction of his neck. 
"That... would be preferable," Aymeric said carefully, "but your wrist will do if you aren't comfortable."
When Augus'to looked back at Haurchefant uncertainly Aymeric continued, "I realize it may feel unintentionally intimate, but the neck will be slightly less painful for you."
He felt like an idiot for it not even occurring to him that unlike a sexy vampire movie, on top of everything else it might hurt. "In that case, um, I think I would prefer that." He anxiously grabbed the rest of his hair and pulled it all to one side. 
As he started to lean in closer, Haurchefant once again spoke up thoughtfully from behind.
"Aymeric, can't you make it feel better?"
"I - no, that's not how it -" the vampire sounded oddly flustered before catching himself. "No, I don't have the energy, even if it was appropriate. I am sorry, Augus'to. I will try to be quick." After leaning in for a moment he backed away again. "You are a witch, yes?" He questioned unexpectedly.
"I am," Augus'to replied, confusion tinging the answer so it was nearly a question of it's own.
"I thought so. I can feel it. I could barely speak when I first arrived, but thanks to the energy in your space I can move a little easier now."
"Is that not enough? Could you just soak that up instead?"
The vampire smiled wryly. "I suppose I could given enough time. Would you rather I slowly destroyed your shop and only got a fraction of the relief?"
"Oh, please don't," Augus'to didn't want to think about all the magic being sucked from his entire inventory as it was rendered useless.
"Very well then. You have no reason to trust me, but you can trust Haurchefant to watch out for you. I'll be as gentle as possible," Aymeric promised, apology writ across his face. His eyes were a chill, frosty blue that Augus'to found himself drawn to at the close distance, and as he leaned and raised a hand to the witch's neck he felt the undead man's pale skin was nearly as cold as they looked.
He held perfectly still as Aymeric leaned over him, bending his head to the side, coming closer. He tensed in anticipation.
"Augus'to," the vampire murmured quietly, calmly as he tried to soothe him, "I know you're scared, but try to relax, it will hurt less."
After a few deep, shaky breaths he nodded slowly. "I'm fine. Just do it, please." 
Finally Aymeric closed the last of the distance between them, the moment marked by twin points of pain on the side of his neck. He tried his best to stay perfectly still - he wasn't sure he could actually move at all, he realized as he could barely twitch the fingers on his hand. The sudden helplessness was even scarier than the pain he'd expected. There was a quiet whine in the distance, and he realized it was his own voice when a chill but comforting hand slid from his shoulder and started rubbing his arm gently. 
The pain started to fade; indeed, the entire world started to fade a bit, and he could hear Haurchefant speaking briefly above him, followed by the incredibly odd sensation of Aymeric's fangs slipping from his neck.
Lightheaded, he leaned back slightly and reflexively put a hand to his neck. It was sore, but not so painful as the first puncture had been.
"It should heal quickly," Aymeric promised, his large hands, noticeably warmer now, holding him firmly in place as he wobbled. "Thank you."
"How are you feeling?" Haurchefant tutted next to him. "Dizzy? If you need something I can't do anything, but we can definitely order Aymeric around all you want now that he's all patched up!"
Augus'to's eyes ran over the vampire again and in his muddled state he couldn't help but point out, "He might be, but his clothes are... not... um... also you should take a shower." The man was absolutely covered in blood. He was probably getting it all over everything too. "Oh, Gods, my shop is going to have blood all over," he found himself whining. It was hardly the top priority at the moment but things were just spilling out as he thought them nd he was surprised to find the man in front of him respond not by rolling his eyes or brushing it off, but by suddenly looking positively sheepish.
"I'm so sorry. I promise now that I'm able I will do everything I can to help repair any mess. And I'm afraid you will probably want to take it easy for the day, but I can repay you for any lost business."
"Oh. Okay." Augus'to blinked. It was kind of nice how concerned he was. 
Haurchefant was sighing off to the side.
"To be fair it doesn't really make any difference to me, but it will be dawn in a few hours," he warned. "Augus'to should get something to help with the blood loss and sleep, and Aymeric needs to at least find someplace safe from the sun, even if he isn't going to do the same."
"I don't want to impose further -"
"Yes you do," Haurchefant interrupted, rolling his eyes. "That's why you came here in the first place."
"In my defense, I wasn't aware Augus'to had taken up residency here."
Haurchefant looked like there was more he wanted to say to that, but in the end he didn't argue. "Either way, you're here now. Help August up and get him something to drink, at least."
Properly chastised, Aymeric finally rose from the floor, helping Augus'to steady himself as he did the same.
"Is there anything in particular I can help you to get, Augus'to?"
The exhaustion and blood loss was catching up to him, and the Miqo'te considered shaking his head. But that was a lot of energy, and he was suddenly starting to feel rather queasy. 
"No, I want to sleep."
"I'm sorry, but you will feel much better if you at least drink something first. Do you have some juice or something similar?" Aymeric sounded fairly sure of himself, and Augus'to wondered how often he drank people's blood and then got them treats.
"Ah... no." He took a deep breath and thought carefully through the brain fog as he stared at the cabinet in front of him. The cabinet full of herbs. "Tea. Tea is good," he decided, swaying as he reached for the cabinet. 
Aymeric's loose grip tightened around his arms to keep him in place as he started to fall, and Haurchefant made an accusatory noise somewhere behind him.
"Gods, Aymeric, how much did you drink?"
"I swear, it wasn't much," the vampire promised, voice tight. "As tempting as it is, his blood is so strong it was easier than I expected to refrain."
His tone softened as he turned to the smaller man in his arms. "Augus'to, if tea will help just tell me what you need, and I will make it for you."
Instead of answering, Augus'to leaned against him in a daze. He was very tall, the witch noted absently. Well, for an Elezen he was probably about average, but compared to himself, smaller than normal for a Miqo'te, he was huge. Not huge enough to be scary though, not like - he cut the thought off abruptly with a shudder.
There was a chorus of concerned questioning from both men, prompting him to focus long enough to reply coherently. He directed Aymeric to the herbs he wanted, a comforting mix that would help him recover, and let Haurchefant walk the vampire through finding the kitchen and most of the actual brewing. 
The ghost hovered, clearly frustrated at his inability to do more, as Augus'to curled up on one of the dining chairs. He stared mindlessly at Aymeric's back as the man fussed over the kettle, and the mugs, and the rest of the unfamiliar kitchen, until finally he had deemed it steeped long enough. After finishing the drink he crossed the room, carefully handing a hot mug over.
Steam wafted it's honey-sweetened herbal scent and warmed Augus'to's face as he accepted the finished drink with trembling hands.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I don't know why I'm suddenly so..." instead of finishing the thought he just closed his eyes and took a grateful sip of the beverage.
"You're welcome. Please, there's no need to apologize." Aymeric took the seat across the table as he spoke. He sat more elegantly than the Miqo'te, but he was so tall in his chair that he might as well have been curled up as well. 
Augus'to took another sip. It was nice. The heat was grounding as it spread though his body, warming him. He looked across the table.
"Oh. You still need someplace to sleep as well," he remembered. Turning to Haurchefant he intended to ask his opinion on where to set the man up, but instead come out with nothing but a huge yawn.
The ghosts lips twitched up, but he was either kind or distracted enough not to laugh in the moment. "Usually I wouldn't be so rude to a guest, however to play it safe for the day, perhaps he could stay in your closet?"
Augus'to frowned at the suggestion, but had to admit it was probably the best choice in a pinch. Which they were certainly in. He looked back over, who didn't seem particularly impressed with the idea either. After another yawn the Miqo'te assured him, "don't worry, it's a walk-in, so there's enough room to lay down."
For a moment he thought the man might argue, but he only nodded politely, thanking them for the consideration.
"You um, you do need to take a shower first though. You can't sleep on my floor like that." The blood he had donated seemed to have healed his wounds, but it had certainly not healed his clothes, nor put the blood soaked into them back where it had come from.
"Of course. I would be grateful for the chance to clean up, though I don't suppose you have any garments in my size I could presume upon you to borrow?"
"...no," Augus'to replied slowly, desperately trying to think of something and coming up empty of ideas. As Haurchefant wasn't corporeal he had no clothes. Even the Miqo'te's largest oversize sweater was unlikely to fit. One of his robes might, though. He had one from a bit before he'd come to town, made for a person larger than him, packed away. "I guess we will have to get you some real clothes tomorrow. I'll dig out a robe that might fit and some blankets while you shower."
"I would be grateful, thank you. Are you sure you are up to it?"
"... yeah," Augus'to sighed. "I'm sleepy, but my head is clearer now."
Their plans made, Aymeric was shown to the bathroom while Augus'to finished his tea after assuring them it was fine to go without him, and to feel free to use whatever was in the shower. Listening to the two old friend's quiet discussion fade away as they left, the witch sunk even further into his seat. His head was clearer, but the walk back to his room, short as it was, sounded terribly unappealing. He finished the last of his drink at an unenthusiastic pace.
Slowly, carefully, he peeled himself back up off the chair, dumped the empty mug in the sink and padded back to his room. Even though the item he had in mind was packed away, it wasn't buried deep in the attic storage, but tucked away on a shelf in his closet. 
Passing by the bathroom he could hear the soft patter of the shower echoing through the door and Haurchefant, hovering nearby, greeted him with a cheerful pout.
"He kicked me out!"
"Why wouldn't he?" Augus'to rolled his eyes affectionately as the ghost followed.
It took standing on his toes, which had him wobbling precariously in his exhausted state as he reached to the back of the upper closet shelves, but the robe was retrieved without much issue. Augus'to held the large silk garment secure and cool in his hands. For a while it had been a comfort item, but when the house repairs had been finished and he'd moved in, he'd only wanted to put his past behind him for awhile, and packed it away.  Holding it now, he was glad the memories it conjured were mostly of comfort, and he found himself staring blankly, his thoughts adrift until a gentle knock to the doorframe jerked him from his reverie.
"Oh! Aymeric," he clutched the thick robe to his chest in surprise. "I'm sorry, I got distracted."
"Not at all. I apologize for intruding, however I thought it would be better to refrain from using all your hot water while I waited."
"Right." Augus'to swallowed. The vampire had cleaned up nicely, he realized suddenly. Attractively broad shoulders, fit and lean with arm muscles and wet wavy hair dripping water down his bare - oh, that was why he was here. Clothes. He was supposed to be getting clothes for him. The man needed something other than a bath towel. "Right, um, I found this for you, I'm sorry it's all I have at the moment." 
Handing the pile of cloth over, he prayed to Menphina that the man would mistake his stuttering and staring for tiredness rather than shallow blind thirst, because while Augus'to had not been attracted to another person for a very long time he was being rather forcibly reminded that that was, indeed, something that did sometimes happen. Actually, maybe Menphina wasn't the right one to pray to, if he was intending to keep away from any potential complications in that direction. He wasn't, was he?
Aymeric might not have noticed, but Haurchefant standing behind him with his smirk open and obvious certainly had. The Miqo'te's tail twitched as he thought rather uncharitably that if the man had a physical body to smack for it later, he might have.
In the meantime their visitor thanked him politely for the robe and returned briefly to the bathroom to cover himself. Augus'to rescued some clothes of his own for the next morning, so he wouldn't need disturb a sleeping vampire and risk letting light into the small room, and they finally all settled in to rest. It was nearly morning, but the witch was exhausted and if he slept the day away as well he didn't have a problem with that. The shop would survive an emergency closure.
Haurchefant didn't really sleep, as such, but he appeared to be winding down as well. 
"Good night, Aymeric. Tomorrow, you will explain to us what's going on, won't you?"
He seemed satisfied enough with the vampire's agreement, and after Aymeric had been tucked away in the closet the the door tightly sealed, and rolled up socks pressed against the bottom opening of the door just in case, he started to fade away.
Suddenly, Augus'to felt horrified of being left on his own.
"No, stay. Please," he asked quietly. "At least until I fall asleep."
Haurchefant flickered back into his fully present state. Sometimes he looked solid enough a person could almost convince themself someone was really there. In the dark however there was enough of an otherworldly glow and ever-present feeling of unnaturalness that hung about him.
"Are you sure?" Even when a ghost was a friend, it could be difficult to sleep comfortably with him in the room.
"Please. You... you don't have to show yourself if you don't want to, I just want to know you're here." 
Logically he understood why the wards hadn't alerted him to Aymeric, and he knew that if someone else got through them too the ghost wouldn't be able to do much to stop an intruder with worse intentions. But fear wasn't always logical, and his presence was comforting, even if that was all it was.
"Of course. I shall protect you as a loyal knight would, my friend," Haurechfant promised. Making a gallant pose while once again fading from view, his presence and voice remained. 
"Thank you." 
The promise was over the top, but he appreciated it. Augus'to pulled the covers up nearly over his head and curled in on himself. Hoping the exhaustion, tea, and friendly support would lead him to sleep without a struggle, he closed his eyes, searching for sleep.
The Miqo'te faded off quickly, Haurchefant's bidding of good night in his ears, and he slept comfortably until a pounding on the door woke him in the late morning the next day.
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sroloc--elbisivni · 2 years
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god someday i HAVE to write the Five Hundred Kingdoms au where Prowl is Optimus's Obviously Evil Advisor on purpose because the Tradition demands at least one Plausibly Evil Figure in a kingdom and this way he fills the ecological niche. it's all going very well--he drinks out of skull-shaped cups, cackles at a calculated frequency, and writes to Shockwave the representative of a Looming Empire for advice on infrastructure development--until one day he walks into a throne room to discover that Optimus has been hit by a sleeping curse. uh oh!! time to take over the kingdom and play Evil Overlord until someone figures out how they're going to wake him back up!! this isn't even that bad, this is WHY he's presenting as the Evil Advisor, it's the point of this contingency plan, what's bad is when the Tradition starts sending heroes to depose him.
He's good at dispatching the obvious, flashy heroes without too much fuss or lethal measures. what's a problem is when a Brave Little Tailor type, one of those sorts of folk heroes defined by his ability to blend into the populace and not be noticed by the big bad, wanders in to try and figure out what's going on here.
Enter Jazz, stage left.
Jazz goes "sure, save the kingdom from the rule of the evil advisor, i got nothing better to do today" and then "oh no he's hot" and then "oh no he's not actually evil" and then the the Tradition, hovering like a looming weight, goes "why haven't you killed him yet" Jazz: GIVE ME A BREAK and then he goes, 'oh ho, I will seduce him, this is a shortcut' which might work, if prowl was willing to be seduced, which he is not, and THEN, even after ALL THAT works out, the Tradition goes: ah. the hero has been seduced by villainy and fallen to the side of evil. MORE HEROES.
eventually megatron comes along as like, wandering swordsman and fights his way into the kingdom, through the series of obstacles, to the innermost chamber of the innermost keep of the castle where the king, his old comrade-in-arms, has been lying in cursed repose awaiting rescue, and he opens the door and jazz and prowl and ironhide are behind a desk going 'about time you got here. what are your qualifications.'
(megatron has been a wandering swordsman for twenty years because people keep trying to give him kingdoms. he can't handle that shit. he tried it once when he was young and naive and fell into the Tyrannical Despot role without knowing what he was doing so he ended up faking his death and working to recoup his reputation and stop feeling the urge to cackle villainously whenever a plan succeeded. he mostly stomped it out.)
this one was fun i've actually been sitting on this one since like, 2020. rodimus comes along eventually with a portentous birthmark and a sword and prowl tries to convince optimus optimus should let prowl throw roddy in a dungeon before optimus or roddy or both die tragically in each other's arms after a revelation of identity. brainstorm is the wizard who lives out in the woods and has to be allowed to let his hubris run away with him sometimes or he'll just end up as the mad genius who used to own the now deserted haunted tower. other people are here too this took on a life of its own.
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I periodically have horrible nightmares about Pip being kidnapped, used to blackmail me, and then cruelly murdered. I had one last night that made me so upset I woke up crying at 2am and couldn’t fall back asleep for ages 😔 so we are feeling a little off this morning! Pip is obviously fine and grumpily allowed me to cradle him in my arms the rest of the night, even though his PREFERENCE as I WELL KNOW is to be burrowed under the duvet at the bottom of the bed. he is my best little guy (which is why the bad guys in my dreams know he can be USED AGAINST ME 😩).
I am crampy and a bit grouchy from discomfort & lack of sleep, but am bravely soldiering on! got up at 5:15, answered work emails for a while, and am now lounging in bed for a bit before I face the day. I think this week I want to apply to this other L&D job that just posted so I want to take some notes for that cover letter… I have to also include a sample “racial equity, social justice, or anti-racist based learning tool or handout” which hmm that was definitely a core focus of my previous job but I feel like the materials I have are pretty tailored to the subject matter I was teaching. so I’ll have to give some thought to how to modify them. ugh I have mixed feelings about doing the whole white lady DEI facilitator thing… but I guess they can weed me out of the applicant pool themselves if I’m not right for the job and also the position seems to be equally concerned with gender equity in the workplace so maybe it’s ok. I think I WILL push myself to apply because 1) it’s L&D work that is more closely values-aligned and 2) paid parental leave baby. plus maintaining the job application momentum (like submitting one thing a week maybe) makes it less likely I’ll sink back into stuck-in-this-job-forever inertia.
mmkay here’s the day:
6:30-8 take notes for cover letter and see if I can find an applicable lesson plan or handout
8-8:30 shower, get ready, breakfast
8:30-9:30 do a burst of brainstorming for this team building event, then maybe work on cover letter some more
9:30-11 interminable meetings
11-12 walk dogs
12-2ish zoom work session with Liz—I need to revise/submit JE rec letter, read SO website & send feedback, brainstorm for MC rec letter (double check the deadline!), read AU resume and sample job postings, and come up with a loose structure for the brainstorming session this afternoon. I’d love to actually develop a reusable ‘lesson plan’ for doing cover letter work with students so maybe I’ll mock something up instead of just jotting down notes. oh also comments for kit!
2-3 could take a mindless scroll break if I wanted here or try to walk the dogs a bit more we only did like 35 rainy minutes
3-4 AU cover letter session
4-5 walk dogs & listen to the game
go to gym before dinner I think—I have a hard time getting myself back out when it’s fully dark but I’d really like to go since I’m traveling later in the week and won’t have the chance. also I can watch the game on my phone if my team hasn’t fallen off a cliff again.
evening: clean kitchen, vacuum and tidy living room, organize all returns, scrub all toilets and sinks, vacuum upstairs, tidy bedroom
lights out by 9:15
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Classic Starts®: Grimm's Fairy Tales Hardcover – Abridged, June 7, 2011 by Deanna McFadden (Adapter), Jakob Grimm (Author), Wilhelm Grimm (Author), Grimm Brothers (Author), Eric Freeberg (Illustrator), Arthur Pober (Afterword)
Once upon a time… there were two brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, who gave the world some of the best-loved fairy tales ever written. From “Cinderella” and “Rumpelstiltskin” to “Snow White” and “The Brave Little Tailor,” this charming anthology offers young readers a wonderful introduction to 12 of the Grimms most popular stories.
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