#they speak very familiarly to each other

[phoenixkaptain]

Obi-Wan: “Did you know that Anakin is still alive?”

Bail: “Skywalker? No way! There’s no way that Anakin Skywalker lived for twenty years without getting on at least half of the galaxy’s nerves or being the most dramatic man in the room or without fighting a ten-year-old or oh my heavens he’s Darth Vader, isn’t he?”

[luveline]

hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it

love u

love u too♡

cw death related anxiety

“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 

Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 

He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 

“Where did James say he was going?” 

“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 

“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 

“You're worrying again.” 

They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 

You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 

James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”

James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”

Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”

“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 

Remus holds out the phone to you. 

“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 

“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 

“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 

“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”

“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 

“I do this all the time, though.”

Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 

“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 

“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 

You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”

James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 

“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.

“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 

[kingconia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS MUCH WORSE THAN THEM

(Aka. In their ’signature’ character trait.)

A/N: Idia was left out, because this author had no idea how to write his part.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— It is not a secret that Riddle might appear a little bit obsessed, when it comes to rules. He knows all of them, and he merely can't understand how others can be so careless!

— And since no one learned them, excluding him, they trusted with each word he said. Mostly, Riddle said truth, following the codex precisely;

— But, oh, he is still a human. Sometimes, he can make mistakes or confuse things...

— That is why, when a new student of his suddenly stood up to point out at his mistake, Riddle doesn't even know what to do: be happy that there is someone else like him, or get annoyed for a necessity to admit his wrong?

•

”Hmph, how dare you call yourself a housewarden of Heartslabyul, when you can't follow elemental rules?”

As other students gasp, shocked by this kind of braveness, Riddle feels his cheek heating. Either from anger or from a strict gaze of yours, that reminds him much of his mother.

”You said that the ’only ever drink tea with slice of lemon on even thursdays’ rule is under 53 number,” you repeat, with hands on the tips, and with no care to Trey, who tries to stop you.

”That, I did,” regaining his coldness, Riddle admits.

Truth to be told, he sensed that he made some kind of mistake with this one. But recently he had been more tired than usual, and it is not like someone else know those rules but him, right?

Right?

”Well," you huff. ”It is under number 35.”

Oh.

”I...” Riddle tries to ignore others eyes on him, fingers digging in the fabric of his pants.

He fights an urge to lie about checking other students, instead of admitting his fault. You don't give him time for any of that.

”Well, keep that in mind then,” you say. ”I expect my housewarden to respect our dorm rules, after all.”

With that, you merely leave.

Riddle has a very mixed feelings about this encounter...

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— When headmaster Crowley stops him not for yelling at him for missed lessons, but to speak of another troublemaker from Savanaclaw, Leona is caught off guard;

— It appears, a new freshmen, gained a quite awful reputation. You seem to be sleeping all the time—you did, in the ceremony; and you do, if you appear on lectures, though, mostly, you don't at all—and the only good thing about you is your surprisingly high grades;

— Truth to be told, Leona is just amused by that. All those warnings some pretty familiar, so, he decides to see you himself;

— Of course, Leona couldn't expect you to be so familiarly annoying!

•

”Shit,” you yawn, a frown touching your face instantly. ”Dude, you must have a really good reason to wake me up.”

Leona blinks; his curiosity changing with irritation quickly as he hears you speaking so carelessly, while stretching under the tree, not even standing up to meet him properly.

”Oi, brat, pay some respect to your housewarden!” He hisses. ”Perhaps, you are forgetting who are you speaking with?”

”Leona-sama,” you sigh tiredly, not impressed by his answer, ”I can't pay respect to someone, who thinks that distracting me from my power nap, is fine.”

Leona is speechless. Mostly, because he doesn't know how to argue about this—he agrees that sleep is more important than anyone or anything in this school, after all. But the amount of disrespect...

”Do you have an idea of your reputation? Headmaster plans to expel you from the school if you continue like this.

Leona internally cringes from these words.

”Sure,” you hum lazily. ”Good luck with throwing off the best first-year student, just because they find those lectures boring.”

Leona can't even answer to you properly. You just fall asleep as soon as you stop speaking, with your tail wrapping around your legs peacefully. At least, he understands Ruggie now...

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Azul makes a quick background check on all of his students, of course. For safety reasons. More or less;

— So, he is surprised, when one of the freshman, who happens to be you, is too secretive. Azul can't find anything on you at all, even the smallest piece of information, and so, he gets curious;

— His first plan—to get twins stalker on you—fails, when you catch them in the action, somehow. Even worse, you somehow make a pact with them, which stops them from trying to dig in your past more...

— Your next step is to send Azul invitation for a little friendly lunch in the Monster Lounge. Sadly, when he agreed, he couldn't know that was expecting him here...

•

”I am failing to understand a purpose of our meeting,” Azul locks his hands together, staring at you without even blinking.

You make another sip of the apple juice you ordered, lips stretching in a soft smile.

”I am here to offer you a pact, Azul-sama.”

Azul almost bursts in the laughter. Who do you think you are, making this bold offer, going against him? What an amusement.

”Oh? Surprise me, then.”

”As far as I know, you spent last three weeks, trying to gain a little information about me. But, oh, all for nothing. Just as I tried to find an answer for a few questions considering you and the Monster Lounge, and failed... So, what I am proposing, is to exchange our secrets mutually,” you wink. ”What do you think?”

How stupid of you to think that he will agree on something like this!

”And why would I want to make a pact with you?”

Suddenly, you search for something in the inner pocket of your jacket. And as you find some envelope, you offer it to him.

”Because you don't want this to get leaked, perhaps?”

It takes a few minutes from him to process what is inside, but when he does, colours leave his face instantly.

”Y-you—”

How did you?..

”It is a deal, then.” You laugh.

Azul hates how there is nothing he can say to you...

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Kalim tries to befriend each student of his house naturally! But, sometimes, others don't want to return his sentiment as he is too loud and too naive for them, so they avoid him or offer a fake sympathy;

— So, when one of the students rushes to befriend him first, smiling widely as they met their old friend, Kalim is very, very happy!

— You match instantly, your undying energy and enthusiasm about everything bringing you close as soon as you start speaking;

— Even better, you take him seriously, too. It is something other do rarely, seeming him stupid and air-headed, but you know that is more than that. It goes in both way, after all.

•

”I... I must admit, I am very happy to be your friend,” you muse softly, back pressing to the carpet as both of you taking your short flight around the school. ”I think, I annoy a lot of people here... But I am not annoying you, am I?”

Kalim looks surprised with this question—after all, you knew him better than anyone!—as he rushes to shake his head in denial.

”No, no! You would never.”

You hum, turning on your stomach slowly. Head pressed on your crossed hands, you nod at him.

”That's good. Thank you.... And, Kalim?”

”Yes?” He asks, mirroring your pose, your shoulders pressing together.

”I think you are amazing housewarden, too. Don't allow anyone think otherwise.”

Before you manage to understand, Kalim is already tucking you on the back, to hug rightly. Just how you always know what to say to him, or how to make him happy?

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Everyone knows that despite his tight schedule, Vil always checks on all of his students, so they could fit standards of their dorm;

— He takes more time to deal with new students, though. Most of them are still not aware of Pomefiore rules and expectations, so, he needs to speak with all of them individually;

— So, Vil is slightly taken aback, when someone is already instructing new students before him. He watches as you explain others common rules, while giving them random advice on how to enhance their skin and hair routine, basing on different problems and offering interesting solutions, curiously:

— Of course, Vil can't wait to speak with you personally!

•

”Y/n Y/s, right?” You pause your speeches, nodding at Vil, who just entered the room. ”I had been watching you for a while, and, I must say, you have impressive qualities. And style, too.”

Vil partly expects you to become all shy over his compliment—that is what happens usually, at least—but, instead, you became even more serious than before.

”I appreciate that, but I believe my wish to help other classmates is partly selfish. And selfishness shouldn't be praised.”

It is not what he thought he will hear.

”And how so?” He asks with unhidden curiousity.

”I strive for perfection, and perfection can only be achieved by the hard work,” you punctuate firmly, raising your chin higher. ”But I also believe that your surroundings should fit you—and so, my dorm, classmates, and housewarden should meet my expectation for myself, too. Therefore, I need to guide them in perfection alone with myself.”

Ah.

Vil can't help but smirk. What an absolute pleasure to speak with someone, who knows what they are doing, who has right morals!

”Well, well,” he folds arm on his chest. ”I can't wait to see more of your hard work, then.”

”I would never disappoint.”

But as the conversation is finished, Vil already knows who is going to be the next housewarden, when he leaves.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When Lilia tells him that they now have another half-dragon creature in the Diasomnia, Malleus is partly curious. It is a rare thing to have someone of his own kind, after all;

— But, of course, Malleus can't just walk to you and start a conversation. Instead, he tries to see you more often; in school or corridors;

— It doesn't give him much. You seem very cold, and other classmates ignore your presence constantly, though, you don't seem to be interested in them, either;

— He finally has a chance to speak with you personally, when he finds you walking around gargoyles in the evening, though.

•

”Malleus-sama,” you bow your head, noticing his presence even earlier than he announces it. ”Good evening. How this one can help you?”

”Y/n,” he slightly nods, examining you closer. ”If I am not mistaken, there is party for the first-years in the school. Why are you here?”

Malleus can't help but notice hints of confusion, raising in your eyes, before you cover it with the usual stoic expression of yours. With a quiet sigh, you start petting the statute affectionately, much like an animal.

”Is that so? I am afraid, I wasn't invited, then.”

He rewards you with sympathetic look.

”I see,” he adds, awkwardly: ”I am sorry to hear that.”

”Oh, no time for regrets,” your fangs bare in a smile. ”Actually... Malleus-sama, I planned to ask you something for a while, but never had a chance to speak with you before. Can I?”

”Of course.”

”Headmaster told me, that you are leading the club of the researches that are dedicated to gargoyles... And so, I wanted to know what I need to join it. You see...”

As you start rumbling about the importance of gargoyles, Malleus can't help but wonder why he saw you as someone cold before. Was it something others thought of him, judging by short glimpses of his attitude in school?

But it doesn't matter anymore. He thinks, your company is very enjoyable, after all.

[writhe]

i feel like it’s kinda dumb but i’ve ALWAYS been weird about touch even when i want it…there’s always been some aspect of exchanging touch casually / familiarly that has never really “clicked” for me. like, i remember being young and seeing people/friends casually lean on or touch each other’s arms or pull each other close and it always felt like a language i couldn’t speak or learn. i think a lot of this had to do with being a closeted / kinda repressed kid / teen but it felt & sometimes feels frustrating. i felt very monstrous for a long time. i think there are years that have passed in my life where the time spent touching or being touched could be condensed into a handful of hours, if not less. much less the case now because i’ve got to a point where i’ll crawl around on franklin for fun & i get friends to roughhouse sometime. anyway, this problem exists to a much lesser extent today but i still notice & feel it but last night during a song a bar friend who i’ve known for, hell, five years peered over my shoulder and we leaned our heads against each other and sang and it, like, did something to me. also hugs are easy but i got kind of a long one from a new friend!

anyway, i am maybe not entirely made of spikes and fire

[togrowoldinv]

Healing

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

“I need to find Natasha and tell her I’m okay.” You witness a sisterly reunion of Natasha and Yelena.

Note: So, I was thinking about the scene in Hawkeye where Yelena comes back from the blip and is trying to find Nat and I wanted it to have a happy ending! Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Ever since everyone returned from being blipped, Natasha has been extremely on edge. She doesn’t sleep most nights, and her mind is occupied all day with worry that people could disappear again.

And there’s still a missing piece to her life that she hasn’t found again, her sister.

You haven’t met Yelena. After the Avengers broke up, Natasha went on the run and met up with her. She’s told you the stories, but you didn’t meet and start dating Natasha until after half of the population disappeared. So, you never had the chance to meet her.

You know that finding her sister again was a priority. And she works herself tirelessly trying to find Yelena. She doesn’t have access to any numbers that could help her find her. And so you watch Natasha stress, and worry, and you hear her cry at night when it all becomes too heavy.

But as you hear a knock on your door now that it’s very late, everything begins to change. For once, Natasha is sleeping soundly next to you in bed.

Thinking that it is probably Wanda coming over after another nightmare, you climb out of bed and open the door with ease.

You didn’t expect to be met with a girl you’ve never seen before, but you know exactly who she is.

The girl speaks first, “I’m here for Natasha. Is she here?” Her voice sounds desperate, like she’s been yearning for months, and strongly accented.

“You’re her sister?” You ask her.

“Depends on who you are,” she says. That solidifies to you that she’s Nat’s sister.

“I’m her girlfriend. Come on in,” you say, stepping back for her to enter the house. The air is heavy as you close the door behind her. “I’ll just go wake Nat up.”

She only nods and looks at the photos of you and Nat that litter the walls. You don’t see her once you’ve gone into the bedroom, but Yelena smiles to herself at the sight of a happy Natasha.

Natasha started to stir from her sleep the moment you walked back into the room and she’s awake by the time you sit on the bed next to her.

“Hey, detka. Is Wanda here?” She asks.

“Actually no. You need to come to the living room,” you say. You take her hand and she follows you blindly, having no idea what might be waiting for her.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for watching the reunion scene in front of you. They both start to cry at the sight of each other and Yelena practically runs to her big sister’s arms.

“Yelena,” is the only word Natasha breathes out before she holds her tight against her chest.

Your eyes fill with tears at the sight of the two girls reunited once again. Even when they break the hug they stay close to each other.

“I was looking for you for so long,” Natasha tells her.

“I was looking for you too,” Yelena says. “I came back after what felt like five minutes and then I knew I had to find you.”

“I’ll explain everything that happened,” Natasha assures her sister. It’s then that Yelena looks past Nat and at you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yelena. I’m y/n. I’ve heard so much about you,” you say.

“You make Natasha happy?” She phrases it a question.

“I do my best to. She deserves everything good in the world,” you reply. You’re nervous, but the smile on Yelena’s face when you finish your sentence makes you feel better.

“I like her,” Yelena says to Nat.

“I love her,” Nat says. She reaches her hand out for you and you take it familiarly.

“I love you too, baby. I’ll make you two a cup of tea so you can stay up and talk, sound good?”

“You’re the best,” Natasha thanks you with a quick kiss.

Natasha and Yelena stay up all night. They talk about the blip, of how it happened and how Nat was so upset to realize Yelena was gone. And they talk of how Nat met you, how she came to love you, and how Yelena will love you too.

You wake in the morning to the sound of Nat and Yelena cooking in the kitchen.

“Good morning, detka,” Nat says.

“Morning,” you mumble. Nat laughs at your inability to be cheery in the morning.

“Hey, is it okay if Yelena stays here for a while?” Nat asks.

“Just until I get on my feet. It’s just hard to get back into the world five years later,” Yelena jumps to her own defense.

“Of course it’s okay. You’re family. Stay as long as you need,” you say.

And the smile on both sisters’ face makes your heart soar. You’re witnessing the healing of two broken hearts and who wouldn’t want a front row seat to that.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @wandasbb @be-missed @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @jujuu23 @the-night-owl-blr @strangegardentaco @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @imthenatynat @sayah13 @harleysincairo @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @lovelyy-moonlight @huitzilinthebudgie3 @juicyy444 @natblackwidow2 @youralphawolf72 @btay3115 @red1culous @lenam07 @randomwriter1021

[flipperbrain-awakes]

The Warleggan Ball by flipperbrain-awakes

Ross leans against a wall in the large room and contemplates the tumbler of brandy in his hand. George does not skimp, this amber liquid is quite good. Ross is well acquainted with fine brandy, risking much himself to import the best available through less than legal means. He scans the room, it is between dances and most of the guests are clustered together in groups, engaged in flattery and idle conversation. He had quarreled with his wife an hour ago, he knew his surly attitude and lack of attention had angered Demelza, and he could certainly understand why. Yet at that moment he was incapable of bending, of admitting he was wrong. And rather than making it up with her, he continued playing cards. His grief and outrage over the disgusting treatment of his friend Jim Carter, which ultimately led to his untimely death, had rendered him powerless to rise above his mood. But by God, Demelza is the last person to deserve the sharp-edge of his ire, and now he feels incredibly ashamed at his behavior. 

He watches his wife chatting merrily with several solicitous gentlemen across the ballroom, without a doubt she has many would-be suitors were her husband not standing in the way. She glances at him, her eyes still flashing with annoyance and hurt, she is ravishing and haughty and so very tempting. Demelza is wearing a new gown, its fabric selected particularly for this occasion. It is the color of Spring and covered with delicate leaves and stems. Her décolletage is framed with the tiniest diaphanous ruffle which projects the opposite of demure, rather than disguising, it accentuates her bust and she is fully aware of its effect. 

Ross has had enough drink this night, he sets his glass aside and walks over to speak quietly with the leader of the small orchestra assembled in the southern corner of the room, a few coins are discreetly handed over. While likely the poorest of manners to divert the musical program toward his personal goals, he cares not and strides determinedly toward Demelza. She sees him coming and her brows gather in anticipation of protest but Ross does not give her an opportunity to refuse. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the center of the dance floor. Demelza initially resists his embrace, she is still put-out and a little embarrassed by their earlier exchange… but then she turns her head and looks into his eyes and her anger melts away, he can be damnable at times but his feelings for her are written on his face. 

Ross takes her in his arms as the music strikes up and begins to dance a dance that he has only seen once before, he holds his beautiful wife, his hand sitting familiarly at her waist, and leads her in The Walse. The steps are not truly known to him but he believes he can manage a fair representation, he has some skill at dancing though rarely used. The onlookers at the time he first witnessed this exercise were scandalized by the closeness of its participants, and from the expressions on many a face, they are once again. He grins inwardly at this but Demelza’s visage, her fine features gazing up at him, he is nearly overcome with desire. She is his complete focus, the only thing in this world that truly matters. That he could act an idiot and lose sight of that, well, he is an imperfect man.

They are a vision to behold on the ballroom floor, Ross expertly guiding in his version of this dance, Demelza following his lead like a woman who has been trained in this since girlhood. Their bodies move together instinctually as one, gracefully drifting and turning and whirling together. All eyes are upon them, but theirs are only for each other.

[azpher-omega]

The Y Malom (Literally, Cyan Bigtooth) is a species on Ternual, found primarily along a coastal plain. A middlingly sized mesocarnivore, that gets by on ambush predation and scavenging. On Ternual, this completely independent evolutionary tree has converged on something familiarly canine-like. At first look.

As you can see, their lower jaws can split slightly. They're not actually all that powerful though, since they mostly bite down with their top jaw, as their spine is on the bottom! Basically, they open their mouth like those bins with the pedal, you know the ones. This is honestly really inconvenient for hunting, but they're stuck with it! This is one reason for the enormous teeth; its imperative that if they bite something, they really, really bite it. In combination with the slight opening of their lower jaw, they can open their mouth reeaaally wide.

Their nose probably looks fairly typical at first glance, but its actually a single nostril on the top jaw, and two pseudo nostrils on the bottom jaws. (Internally, they join together, only a bit of flesh separates them, so they can still inhale while the jaws are out) They branch out to the eyes as their sensory lines, which are repurposed lateral lines. They keep the eyes and noses moist, detect air pressure, balance, and enhance the senses, particularly smell and chemical detection.

Along the inner mouth, parallel to the lines, are the 'teeth'. Comparatively its more like a beak, with tooth-like serrations. It grows out of the bone, coated in a hard sheath. While the inner part stops growing, the sheath is shed periodically and regrows. As such, they remain extremely sharp, and are much less prone to infection and decay.

Notice that its eyes are concave, shaped like a bowl, rather than a sphere. (It still has a convex cornea though, that covers it entirely, and is much tougher) I can't really speak on the effectiveness of it, but it is an ancestral trait; its stuck with it. It can actually rotate them slightly, but not much. Like birds, it alters its visual range more so by moving its neck. It probably stabilises its head like one too!

Speaking of, on its neck is a cobra-like frill. The inside of it is lined with glands, which collect energy from the surroundings, and store it. This energy is specifically ice/cold energy, which it can release through its teeth or claws (mostly teeth) for a freezing bite. If the fangs weren't enough to keep prey down, injecting the energy into somethings' muscles would almost certainly make it unable to move.

Its neck is also pretty flexible. However, since the spine is on the bottom, its range of motion is sort of flipped, being able to swing its neck very far backwards, but not as much forwards. It would struggle to look in between its legs, but would comfortably curl its neck onto its 'back' to rest!

Said legs as you can see are pretty odd looking. Anatomically there's not actually much to say here; I see no reason they'd function any different from our legs! They have a different range of motion, and probably a more horse-like gait, on account of the long 'wrists'.

They have 3 toes, which are symmetrical. Underneath the skin however are probably vestigial extra toes, from its ancestors, who had a toe on each joint. You will see what I mean in my other creatures someday. :]

Their colouring probably seems very out there, but in its natural environment, it blends in perfectly. It has countershading on its underside and feet, to blend in the shadows and the lighter soil, while the varied pinks blend into equally pink foliage. The white spots on its back are also to blend in, as dotted throughout its natural habitat are round white 'flowers', sort of like puffball mushrooms.

(Old art obviously but for a visual... look how far my boy has come)

Its tail is split, as you can see. Actually technically its entire spine is, but the two halves are long fused. Only the tip, which house the ears, remain separated. There's not much to say here, they're just ears! They're derived from a tail fin, and function much the same as ours, aside from the odd location. Their tail is very flexible, so it can turn in any direction to listen.

To finish, I think you'd love to hear that it reproduces entirely with its mouth. As its oceanic ancestors were mouthbrooders, it evolved to do much the same on land. Aside from the location, they aren't too inventive. Lots of posturing and displaying, fluid exchanging, and in a few months, a moderately developed puppy gets vomited out. They aren't parental much, but the pre-adults live in the forest rather than the open plains, to avoid competition and make use of different niches. Oh, the same goes for digestion. Food in... Food out. Probably why the split jaw stays around, opening it makes things much less messy.

And that's the guy! Thanks for reading. :]

[rinbowaman]

S E 7 E N : M A M M O N P A R T 2 W O

M A S T E R L I S T

Warnings: Just lots of fluff, mentions of bodies being mutiliated, torn, shredded, turned into statues, enveloped by metals, people getting smacked, (they had it coming) and i think that's it really.

“Come here..tsk tsk tsk…come here.”

“Meow!....Meeeeow!.....Kiiiiiitttttyyyyyy….”

Your eyes opened, adjusting to the very subtle rays of sunlight peering in through the window, you could tell it was mid-morning without looking at the clock.

“Meow! Meow-meow? Meowmeowmeowmeowmeeeeeeooow!”

‘Who….what is that?’

Your ears perked to the sound of a voice that was clearly male, slightly higher in pitch with a very unique tone. It was coming from the small balcony through the wide open sliding door next  to your dining table.

Sitting up, you slowly stood and made your way to the sliding door, through the sheer curtains, you could make out a young man who was kneeling down on next to your potted plants.

“It’s okay, eat. There you go….”

He was petting something. “많이 먹어”  

‘Huh…so he also speaks in different tongues…’  

Recognizing the language, based off your experience with the language cassettes in the library, it seemed like he was fond of speaking in Korean. Come to think of it, thus far, all of the encounters you had with these fellas, Helel, Jay, and now this one apparently, though you only saw his backside, yet they had clear indications that they were of Korean descent…or rather, they had the appearance of Korean males.  

You slowly breached the opening of the sliding door, hearing your delicate footsteps, he remains kneeling as he pivoted on his heel and looks over at you. He had a cupped hand filled with tuna while the other was gently petting a small kitten before him, he looked at you somewhat wide eyed and an emotionless expression.

 “You’re awake.” He states, while he studied you. 

“uhm…yeah…you’ve been here long?” you remarked so familiarly, as if you knew the man already.  

He turns his head back to the small kitten, “Naaah…just for the last ten minutes.” 

Picking up the small animal, he walks over to you and hands it to you.

 “Here, hold onto Kimchi for a second.” 

‘He named this kitten after fermented cabbage?....’ you thought.  

You scoot back as he walks back in, turns halfway as he slides the glass door shut. He wasn’t as tall as the other two, yet he still hovered above you by at least a good amount. His shoulders were broad, very broad, and he had such strong forearms as he dawned a pair of black trousers and a white button up, looking almost as formal as Helel did when he appeared before you.  Each of his fingers were adorned with such beautiful, and lavish pieces of jewelry, with real jewels, pearls, silver, and gold. Matching the elegance of his rings, were a pair of diamond speckled earrings he had on.

His hair was neat as it laid downward, covering his forehead as the wispy strands danced atop his eyebrows. The front pieces had subtle blonde highlights peeking through the dark brown foundation of his thatch of thick hair. He was young looking, but just as remarkably handsome as his two brothers.

Facing you, he sighs out as his eyes shift from you face and trailed down to your waist, hips, and down to your legs.  

“Yeah…you’re Heeseung’s bride alright….he never expressed a type…well then again, it’s hard to see what someone’s type is when they never show interest in anything apart from condemning the unruly. But somehow just by looking at you…I can tell that you’re his type.”

 He remarks as he continues to study you. You cleared your throat softly as you shift your gaze before opening the door to a new conversation.  

“I um…heard you’re one of the younger brothers…is that true?” 

He looks at you wide eyed again before he chuckles and shakes his head off to the side, “yeah, Niki is the youngest, I come in second.”  

You nod as you continued to cradle…’Kimchi’. 

“Here, let me try and feed him, he’s too skinny.”

He remarks as he reaches over for the baby animal. Gently taking it from you, you watched as he gently caresses the kitten in his arms, his decorated fingers stroke the ears and chin of the baby cat.

 “Are cats your favorite animal?” you inquired softly.  

“Oh yeah. They’re cute, and so much fun to play with. I’ve got about a million of them at home, also lions, tigers, panthers, pumas, and oh! I just brought home a new bobcat the other day, poor thing was shot in the eye by a poacher, so I healed it and took it back to the others.” 

You nodded slowly, wide eyed at his mentioning of the collected species and breeds of felines.  

“Wow….thats…uh..impressive.” you marked out.  

“You like them too?” he looks over at your cat plushies that you slept on last night. 

“I noticed all those cute things are of cats, where did you get them? I think I might get some for myself, they’re super funny and adorable.”

 “Uh..yeah…um well actually…a lot of the stores that did carry them no longer …are open..but…” looking over your shoulder, you side stepped over to the couch and reach over to grab a cat plushie, one that was the same color as Kimchi.

“You can take all of mine, since…in six days I will no longer be able to enjoy them.” He looked at you wide eyed, still cradling Kimchi, then looked down at the plushie you presented.  

“You…really mean I can take these? Are you sure?”  

“Yeah…seriously. I um..well I’m sure you know already, but I won’t be living for much longer.”  

Smirking, he tickles Kimchi’s belly as he dips his nose down to rub against the baby’s own snout.  

“Yeah, I heard.” He continues to smirk at the little animal as he rubs his nose against it, left to right.  “Koochie-koochie-koo.” He issues out in slightly higher pitch at the kitten. 

Placing the animal down, he lets the baby roam as he grabs his black jacket, that matched his trousers and the rest of his ensemble.  

“Well, we should go and find a store to get some food for Kimchi, also I saw some more cats nearby where I found him, we need to feed them too.” 

“umm….well…” you hesitated as you felt a little uneasy going out, considering you were being looked for by the cult, plus with Jay eliminating a few of them, you were quite sure that you were on the Senator’s hitlist.  

“Come on, it will be fine. Lets go.” He scoffs out as he smirks.

 “its just that….you see….” He gently cuts you off as he places his hands on your shoulders, taking a step or two closer to you.

He looked much taller now that he was directly in front of you.

 “Girl, listen. If you don’t hold my hand and help me feed the cats, I’m leaving.” He mischievously grins. “You don’t want me to tell Heeseung that you were being disobedient, do you?” he strokes your cheek as he softly issues out his words, still mocking the tune of his voice at you.  

“Mm…no…sorry.” You shook your head. “I’ll grab my coat and we’ll go….feed the cats.” 

“Well I’ll be….if you aren’t fitting for the King of Hell himself.” He scoffs out as he pets your head, closing you in against his chest as he hugs you.

Placing his nose atop your head, he rubs it from left to right, just as he did when he rubbed it against the baby cat’s snout.  

“Come on kitten, let’s go.” 

'How wonderful…a new pet name.’  Which had reminded you… 

“Um….what is your…name?....or what should I call you if you prefer not to tell me your real name?” you inquired as you recalled Jay’s statement of he and his brothers all having dual names, one which was their true name, the other, they picked for themselves.  

He smiles as he opens our coat closet, and gently yanks your black raincoat from the hanger before wrapping it over your shoulders.

Breathing against your forehead, and placing just a small and faint peck on it, his chest slightly bumping into the tip of your nose, he whispers… 

“For now, you can call me Jungwon.”  

P A R T T H R 3 E

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry @honeysjae

[sidesteppostinghours]

WIP its-not-Wednesday-but-close-enough

tagged by @autistic-sidestep! thank you for the tag :D i have,,, so many wips rn. pulp stop starting a million projects challenge. all of these are very rough, and a lot of them feature other steps, but i wanted to share a few :]

for writing, ive got these:

“What the hell, man!” Mitchel hisses. He’s let go, but he hasn’t bothered lowering his voice. Too loud, but real. Caine groans, pulling themselves up from the mattress. At least it wasn’t the floor– this could’ve hurt a lot worse. They wince at the throb in their shoulder as they reach for the wall, probing for a light switch. When he flicks it on reality re-establishes itself once more.  It’s Caine’s room, familiarly bare-bones. There’s only a singular twin sized bed in one corner of the room and a desk just across, with a heap of laundry they haven’t bothered to do taking up the chair. Mitchel stands on the mattress in the middle, both parts pissed and bleary eyed. His cheek is a lightish colour that’s a telltale sign it’s going to bruise, and a portion of his blanket stubbornly clings onto his shoulder. There’s no threat in here, or at least nothing more threatening than Mitchel annoyed. The knowledge doesn’t stop the blood pounding in their ears.

-caine wakes up and gets jumpscared by @hyper-pixels mitchel. they react to this calmly.

Marshal Steel has hair stuck in his finger joints. That's the first thing Daniel noticed when he came in to work this morning. Steel has his civilian hands on, which is normal when he has admin work. Those civilian hands will usually have hair in it too, mostly from Spoon. That's also normal. What's not normal is the colour; because instead of the odd tufts of grey fur Daniel's used to seeing scattering Steel's joints, this is a single, longer strand that he's sure wasn't left on purpose. Because the hair strand is brown. Suspiciously similar to Ortega's own brown hair.

-herald is suspicious that his boss is having another secret relationship with a pretty old man, but its none of his business! not at all. thats why hes eavesdropping on them from the breakroom pantry.

“What are you two talking about?” Ortega jerks, nearly spilling coffee all over Wei, tearing a curse out of him as he yanks his head to the direction of the voice.  Speak of the devil. Caine glances between the two, head cocked. When did he get here? Ortega doesn't remember inviting him, and nobody told him he was coming either. Not that Ortega isn't happy to see him, but the timing… “Dios mio, Spot, how long have you been standing there?” he mutters. He gives his coffee a once over, but nothing's spilled.  He turns back to Caine and double takes. The poor guy looks like he's just run a marathon– he's drenched in his own sweat. He's not wearing his raggedy sweater, for once. Instead, he's got a skintight suit with a simple white tee over it.

-a multi-pov fic featuring the same conversation, but told from the perspective of ortega, chen, and caine. trying to practice voices with it, and so far its been fun digging into each of them!

as for art wips:

-arde and vera based on the song "the villain i appear to be"! i actually made this today after playing the new revelations demo lmfao. i do not remember what arde looks like 😔 im so sorry ive done you a disservice

the next two have blood+mild gore in them, so im throwing them under the cut!

-cyrus gets Fucked Up by a dream version of fawn from @villainsidestep, based on this absolutely vile(/pos) soul read of him:

because why not fuck him up even more??

-mitchel painting i have yet to put down colours for that i am lovingly dubbing "cannibalism (NOT ROMANTIC)". chew it out with your teeth mitchel!!!!

ill be tagging everybody mentioned in the post, plus @idlenight, @disastersteps, and maybe @euelios if you all wanna give this a shot?

[boyfhees]

🗗 LOVE AND OTHER CHALLENGES | k. akaashi

precis. a tale of you and akaashi intertwined in strings of marriage and yet experiencing love for the very first time. or maybe, it's second.

genre. arranged marriage, friends to lovers, fluff, minor like very minor angst, humour ( wc. ≃ 5.37k )

warnings. fem ! reader ( sry bffies ) characters are aged up, some smooching at the end so slightly suggestive, mentions of food, lmk if you find anything else !

note. very impulsive, very self indulgent, very much word vomit, i dont know what this is please i was half asleep when i wrote eighty percent of this so bear with me. i'd still tell you to read this, though. missed my sleep for this so you better reblog :‹ also this whole thing would make a tad bit more sense if you know the meaning behind all the flowers mentioned here :›

it’s been a while since you last saw akaashi.

well, that is if you ignore the fact that he’s sitting right in front of you, next to his parents while your parents are sitting next to you, the fragrance of strawberries and vanilla spinning in the air along with soft giggles and fluttering gazes.

there’s a bouquet of irises, daffodils and certain other flowers you couldn’t seem to identify resting in one corner of the table. the clinking of glasses and spoons is distinguishable above the faint melodies of tchaikovsky’s playing in the background. but above all raises a question, one that pulls both you and akaashi out of your trail of thoughts.

“do you want to talk among yourselves?”

oh yes, please.

and with one nod at his mother, you both excuse yourselves to a table resting in the last corner of the restaurant, away from everyone’s eye. well, away from your parents’, at least.

“so how have you been?” is the first thing akaashi says, after thirty minutes of marriage discussion between both the families.

you smile. “good, i suppose.”

silence.

you can swear you and akaashi were better than this in high school. well, to sum it up, your conversations never ended with an awkward silence back then; and that would’ve been the case if you were sitting in front of him right now, meeting him like, five years later, thanks to an arranged marriage proposal brought up by your parents.

“are you—”

“so—”

you both speak in unison, a series of laughter following soon after as you feel the atmosphere lighten.

“you can go first.” he offers, and you gladly take the proposition.

“are you okay with this?” the question catches him by surprise. honestly, you too think it’s a little awkward to bring it up abruptly. however, your parents are sitting a few tables across, probably guessing the names of their grandchildren, and you were never the type to beat around the bush. “i mean marriage, keiji. i know you didn’t expect to see me years later just to get married, none of us did.”

another set of silence follows, but this time it’s not awkward. probably because you’re expecting the rejection. and honestly, who wouldn’t? even if it were you in his place, you would refute the proposal, despite the fact that you two have known each other for years or whatever. however, his next words leave you wondering if your ears are working perfectly or not.

“i am perfectly fine with it,” he says shooting you a sweet smile, one that stirs a familiarly unfamiliar feeling in your stomach.

“you don’t have a girlfriend?” now, this is when you lose your composure, coming out as an idiot to him but being your friend for years at least made him realize that ages ago.

he chuckles. “what makes you think i do?”

“only fools reject that face,” where’s the lie? anyone who has seen akaashi ends up with two conclusions. one, he already is in a relationship and second, he’s not interested in one. anything apart from those two seems out of character and overall, just doesn’t make sense.

your brows furrow as he lets out a playful laugh, averting his eyes to the window next to your table. and you notice the way his eyes crinkle up into a crescent shape, his blue irises peeping through the gaps.

“it’s not funny, keiji.” you deadpan. “as much as i’d like to marry someone i know, i also want you to be comfortable with this relationship. i know this can be hard for you so please, be honest.”

he nods at your words and it seems so sarcastic, as if he finds humor in your concerns about a relationship that isn’t even official yet.

“what about you?” you look at him with a curious gaze. “is it not hard for you to marry someone you don’t love?” and oh boy, where do you even start from?

“i had a crush on you back in highschool.” that is everything that takes him to look at you with eyes wide open, his heart accelerating a little for an unknown reason.

and talk about timing. before he could utter a single word, you see both of your parents approaching the two of you. you feel your cheeks heating up a little because of the recent confession and if you’re not wrong, if your eyes aren’t deceiving you, then there’s a faint tint of rose dancing on akaashi’s cheeks too.

“did you talk?” your mom asks

“we did,” you reply with a smile, taking a look at akaashi before setting your eyes upon your parents again. “however, we need a little time to decide.” you could hear the dads whispering, an unnoticeable frown resting upon your mom’s face which you manage to notice easily.

“that’s fine! we’re not running out of time, are we?�� and that’s a blatant lie. time might not be a problem, but akaashi is. and knowing him, he has several contradicting thoughts about marriage. you’re not trying to be a ‘know it all’ about him, but as someone who has witnessed him paying no attention to romantic aspects of life, you can at least guess that the major reason behind this proposal is not your mother, but his mother who probably complained about her son’s lack of interest in love.

you shoot her a thankful smile, finally bidding your goodbyes before akaashi interjects the departures.

“wait,” he interrupts a little too loudly, having a few stray gazes floating at him. “i’d like to marry y/n.”

and there’s only one way to describe your amusement — the woman was too stunned to speak.

.

.

.

“oh god, this sounds like one mov—”

“kaori.” you cut in through his rambles about how much of a love ridden movie your life sounds like. “this is not a movie, it’s my life. i’m having a crisis over here!”

“what’s the issue, yn?” the atmosphere gets heavier for a second. “didn’t you want to date akaashi?”

“i wanted to date him, not marry him, especially after years of no contact!” you whine in a hushed manner, afraid that your mother will hear you. “besides, i have a feeling this won’t work.”

“you can start by dating, though.” she suggests. “look, it’s not like you both are complete strangers. plus, akaashi seems to like you— platonically i mean— and that’s better than marrying someone you’ve never heard of in your entire life.”

well, that’s true.

“yeah, i know—” and then you hear your mom calling you downstairs, an exhausted sigh escaping your lips. “mom’s calling, let’s talk later.”

you rush downstairs, only to see akaashi sitting in the living room with a bouquet of pink camellias and a saccharine smile dancing on his lips. and you remember asking ‘didn’t we meet just two days ago’ to yourself before greeting him with an soft ‘hello’ and taking a seat next to your mother.

“i was wondering if we could catch up a bit,” you look at him with pure amusement. a part of you is panicking because your parents are right here, hovering their gazes over you and akaashi as if he’s asking you out on a date.

unless, it actually is one.

“of course, she can!” and you hate it when your mother answers the questions meant for you. “she has nothing better to do except reading that weird manga the whole day.” too much information, mom, too much.

however, you’re glad she doesn’t remember the name of the manga. because imagine calling a manga weird when the writer is sitting right in front of you, and is about to marry your daughter in a few weeks.

anyway, you excuse yourself to your room, shuffling through the closet for a decent dress, applying light makeup for the sake of looking presentable. you almost call kaori again before realizing that you certainly have better fashion sense than her.

you rush downstairs once again, this time with a slightly flustered face because what if you don’t look good? however, the look on akaashi’s face says otherwise.

“you look gorgeous.” filter, keiji, where’s the filter. your mom giggles under her breath, eyes your dad about something you fail to figure out. your parents are more excited about your marriage than you, and it makes you wonder if marriage is just a plan and they just want akaashi in their household. ( let’s be honest, they always liked akaashi a tad bit more, only because he doesn’t read manga all day, but who’s gonna tell them? )

not a word is shared after that. both you and akaashi walk out as he offers you the flowers he bought, you assumed they were for your parents.

“so, how have you been?” this time, you break the ice, striking up a conversation which doesn’t feel as awkward as the one held two days ago.

“i’ve been working on a new manga so things are a little hectic,” he replies, leading you inside the bakery down street, pulling a chair for you to sit on. “but besides that, everything is good.”

and it’s the manga once again. you chuckle, scanning through the menu. “i wonder how my mom would react if she knew that her favorite boy writes manga.”

“let’s not tell her that,”

and then what follows are the beads of laughter and tales about all the years you’ve lost. you learn that bokuto plans to ask his partner out, which is some kind of ‘big boy decision’ if phrased in bokuto’s words. akaashi tells you about a certain yellow haired setter— and he’s not the point of the conversation anymore. it’s his brother, all because akaashi loves the onigiris at his restaurant. and that’s the only lovesick expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

akaashi being a love sick fool for miya onigiri. yeah, sounds about right.

“we should go there someday,” he offers, more like he’s saying you must go because he loves that place and you would too. “you know, after getting married.” now that, you didn’t expect that.

“i still don’t get why you want to marry me.” and it’s an honest question. people may call you a fool for trying to sabotage your seemingly perfect future married life, but you aren’t taking risks. well, that’s what we learnt from all the mangas we’ve read, right?

he sends you a blank expression, trying to hide his smile. “because you like me?”

“don’t bring that up!”

“are you embarrassed?”

“stop!” you cover your face with your hands, trying to calm your heart down. you’re regretting confessing to him that day. and thinking about it now, it was another one of your impulsive decisions that you regret. “besides, i liked you.”

a dramatic gasp escapes his lips. “so you don’t like me anymore? what’s the point of getting married then?”

oh, and you’re sure he’s teasing you, so you decide to give into his little games. “let’s say it’s because of the mangas.”

another trail of laughter follows, another series of both of your hearts skipping a few beats, another piece of memory floats into your mind. you recall how you and akaashi met in a comic store, wanting to buy the recent edition of a manga that had only one copy left. so just like any other smart person, you both divide the price, proceeding to read it together at the nearby park.

that day, you arrived home late— very late. so late that you received an earful from your mother. but you could care less. that was the best manga reading session you’ve ever had, and even better than best meet cute or whatever they call it in the stories.

and just like that, the morning passes by in usual conversations. suddenly, akaashi doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore. well, he never was, but meeting him two days ago made you feel like you aren’t meeting the keiji you once knew. there was an unfamiliar haze in his eyes, and even though you knew the person sitting in front of you, you didn’t feel like knowing him at all.

however now, there’s a familiar smile on his lips, one that made you fall for him, a knowing glint in his eyes, one that made you drown in his eyes every time you looked into them. the fuzzy feeling in your stomach returns, and you thought it was easy to bury someone’s feelings.

“do you really not have a girlfriend?” you tease the question again as you both walk out of the bakery.

“i don’t, yn!” he whines. “how many times should i repeat that for you?”

“oh c’mon, a crush, maybe? there’s no way you don’t have someone you like.”

“you’re right, i do have a crush.” a pause. you didn’t expect that. or maybe you did, that’s what you’ve been wanting to hear, because there’s no way the akaashi keiji doesn’t have a crush. so why is your heart aching so much? “but i’m marrying you, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

and there it is again, the butterflies and all, and an eye roll initiated by you. you don’t know what to do, but one thing is for sure— akaashi has a crush, he’s marrying you, so in short : your relationship won’t work out.

that’s how you muster up the courage to speak your next words. “let’s call off the engagement.” you look at him with dull eyes, still managing to pull a pleasant smile. “don’t give up on the one you love for me.”

it hurts so much, you’re sure saying that took ten years from your life span.

“hm, is that so?” and then you see him inching closer, one hand resting on your shoulder while the other reaches out for your hair, making your heart pick up a higher pace. on the cue, he pulls out a leaf stuck from your hair, taking a look at it before setting his eyes on your again. “i don’t think i’m giving up on the one i love by marrying you.”

and then you zone out for a good ten minutes.

.

.

.

“i hate him, kaori! i hate him so much!” you yell into your pillow— her pillow, actually, while she’s sitting on the other side of the bed, watching you exhibit animal behavior ( her words, literally )

she sighs for the tenth time. “do you, though?”

“gosh, i’m in love with him!” you exclaim into the pillow again, squealing and giggling like a five year old kid who got her favorite figurine in her happy meal. you’re sure you hear her saying ‘pick a struggle’ but honestly, you’re busy thinking about akaashi to even respond to her.

you were such a fool to think it was impossible for old feelings to return. well, it’s just a family gathering. what could go wrong? you remember concluding this the day you were getting ready to meet his family. and much to your surprise ( or maybe not ) everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong.

it took you everything to not call akaashi hot. wait, actually, akaashi has always been hot. the girls in high school didn’t fawn over him for nothing. but akaashi keiji, 22, shonen manga editor who has been publishing mangas under a pen name is hot.

in those five years, akaashi had the glow up ( again, not like he ever needed. more like glow ups need akaashi, really ) and that’s when you knew that ‘it’s impossible for your feelings to return’ was bullshit, because the moment he stepped in, your heart started having a field day with those damned butterflies.

“i don’t know what he means by that, though.” you sit up, looking at your friend who’s painting her nails, tired of the mess that your life is. “he says he loves someone, but he’s also not giving up on them by marrying me. what do you think that means?”

kaori sighs. “you’re so dumb, it baffles me.”

“hey!” you slap her arm, pouting at her response as you slide under the covers. “whatever, i’m going to sleep.” another lie, because bold of you to assume you could sleep when you have akaashi keiji hovering all over your mind.

kaori’s right, maybe you’re stupid. it’s really stupid of you to marry someone who clearly has a crush, someone who clearly harbours feelings for someone and oh god, you feel so selfish. but maybe that’s what love does to you. for once, you think, being selfish isn’t as bad as people make it to be. after all, with love comes several other challenges, and one of them was making him fall in love with you too.

oh, well, everything side, you need to sleep. that’s the most difficult challenge right now, considering your brain won't stop playing the previous events with akaashi.

.

.

.

nothing helps, you need to be brainwashed.

how does one even fall so deep in love that it’s hard to sleep?

anyway, you make your way to the balcony, careful to not wake your friend up as you slip into your cardigan. you wonder if it’s actually colder than usual, or if it’s just your mind. maybe it’s just your mind. because you look at the sky, the moon looks prettier, the sound of wind hustling through dry leaves feels like music to your ears. you pull the cardigan closer to your body, a smile dancing on your lips. however, a notification from your phone interrupts your sweet moment.

akaashi :

you should sleep — 3 : 37 am

you :

how do you know i’m not sleeping? — 3 : 37 am

akaashi :

look to your right :) — 3 : 38 am

and then you see him waving from a distance, standing next to a lamp post as a faint gasp escapes your lips. you run downstairs, cursing as you almost drop one of the antiques resting on a table in the living room.

“what are you—” you’re cut off by akaashi wrapping his scarf around you, a wisp of air emerging from his lips.

“you should stay warm.” he whispers, cheeks adorned by dust of red tints because of the cold winds engulfing the two of you. “and you should sleep, too.”

you chuckle at his words. “you’re one to talk.” chortles back, offering you to put your hand in his as you both begin on your little stroll.

it’s cold, it really is. you feel the cold breeze penetrating through your silk trousers, and you curse yourself for thinking it would protect you from the temperature outside. march has never been this cold, but no one can predict weather, can they? all you can say is that you’re glad akaashi’s holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket, a faint blush waltzing on your cheeks as you smile against the soft scarf.

it smells of calendulas, a fragrance almost similar to how you’d describe home. akaashi always had a sublime taste when it comes to fragrances.

“what are you doing here, though?” you ask when you finally recall the reason why you hurried downstairs anxiously.

“is it wrong for me to see my fiancée?” he responds with a smirk, eye you through his peripheral gaze.

you take it back when you said akaashi feels familiar. he does not. seventeen year old akaashi didn’t have the confidence to tease you about everything you do. to be honest, it was the other way around. and you can imagine him saying, ‘oh how the tables have changed’ with a smug grimace. you wonder if he has been spending time with kuroo or one of the miyas.

“is your mom aware that her son is out here with his fiancée instead of sleeping?”

“she wouldn’t mind,” well, he’s right. “she really wanted us to get together ever since high school.” and you feel your cheeks heat up at his words again. actually, scratch that, it’s not the words. it’s the cold.

yeah, it’s definitely the cold. because nothing else seems plausible.

“you’re flustered,” his words pull you out of your thoughts, your eyes wide open at his statement. “do i fluster you, yn?”

such a tease, you curse in your head. “you? fluster me? the delusion is high.” and you’re such a liar for speaking those words as if they’re nothing but the truth.

you both stop in front of your house— again, it’s kaori’s house. he looks at you, you look at him, and the time freezes. there’s a comforting sensation in between you two. while everything around is shivering in cold, the calloused moon watches your heart melt at his sight. you wonder if it’s obvious that you’re still in love with him, even after all these years.

“and when i do this?” he steps towards you, inching closer as his head dips down towards your lips, halting a few centimeters away. your heart is pacing infinitely, as if it’ll jump out of your chest. if that wasn’t enough, his hands find refuge on your waist, pulling you closer than you already are.

and you’re only thinking about kissing him when he chuckles, stepping back, leaving you perplexed with a flushed face. “i think you should go back.” and that’s all he says before bidding you a good night as you watch him walk away through the dimly illuminated streets.

you smile.

maybe sleeping isn’t on tonight’s list.

.

.

.

the next week almost feels monochromatic.

you haven’t even heard from akaashi. no calls, no texts, let alone hanging out together. while he has quite a tight schedule considering the busy person he is, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he’s spending time with the so-called person he has a crush on.

the calls from his parents don’t stop, though. his mother hits you up every one to two days, asking if her son is treating you well, and you couldn’t help but just smile and say that yes, he is. well, you certainly can’t tell that you haven’t heard from her son in three days now, and everything makes you feel a little anxious about the marriage proposal.

so, even when reading manga doesn’t seem to calm you down, you decide to seek comfort in an old friend.

“just so you know, yn,” he says after much consideration, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. “akaashi isn’t the type to play anyone, especially you.”

“i know,” you sigh, resting your arms on the table in front of you. “but i’m scared.” he puts his hand above you, rubbing soft circles on the back of your palm in an attempt to provide you solace.

tanaka would know something about love, considering he spent a major part of his life pinning over kiyoko. and if there’s something you learnt from his story, it’s persistence. a major part of why you are still willing to have your shots at akaashi is tanaka and his forever inspiring story regarding his love life. ( honestly, it’s something he’s very proud of )

“hey now c’mon, this isn’t the yn i knew in university. cheer up!” you smile at his words, receiving one back in response too. the universe may have deprived you of a potential love interest but it definitely gave you the best friends you could ever ask for. “shit— i have to go. but call me if you need anything, okay?”

and with that, you both walk out of the little shop, him bidding you a soft goodbye with a kiss on your temple before hugging you, something that you appreciate a lot.

they say that if things are set to go wrong, they will go wrong. there’s no stopping. just like now, when you turn around, your eyes rest upon akaashi as he stares at you from across the street. only ten seconds are left before the signal turns green again, and it makes you feel like you’re hanging on the edge of a cliff; only ten seconds to pull up, ten seconds to save yourself, and after that is just an empty void.

but you’re smarter than the girl running across the road in front of you. you’ve always been the smarter one. so you pull out your phone, dialing the number on top of your contact list.

a few rings pass, the signal turns green. akaashi picks up.

“keiji i can ex—”

he cuts you off. “let’s talk later.”

a bus passes by, and akaashi is no longer in front of you.

.

.

.

day five without akaashi.

both the families are busy with the preparations and now that the engagement date has been finalized, tons of responsibilities have been bestowed upon you.

however, everything feels like it has been built upon a pillar of lies. you’ve been tiptoeing around your friends and family, making sure you don’t make it obvious that there’s a huge misunderstanding between you and akaashi. something that can ruin everything.

so, you keep feeding everyone with lies, a little too afraid that you'll make one mistake and you’d shatter everything into pieces.

.

.

.

you’re not sure when the later comes for him. but every second ever since that incident feels suffocating. the thought about calling off the engagement slides into your mind. a part of you agrees. you can maybe postpone the engagement, at least. while another part of you keeps telling you to text akaashi.

maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t.

what if he’s busy with work? what if he’s busy with someone? well, what happened that day gives him a perfect reason to not marry you and instead, spend his life with the person he truly loves.

and you keep staring at the ceiling, sighing occasionally before your mother comes in.

“yn, are you busy?” you roll your eyes. if staring at the ceiling is considered working then sure, you’re busy; very busy. “keiji’s here.”

suddenly, you aren’t busy anymore. hundreds of questions flood into your mind as you send your mom out of your room, proceeding to fix your look before following her ghosted steps.

“um, my mom sent some takoyaki for you,” you’ve never had a more awkward conversation with akaashi before. you smile, the takoyakis are appreciated, but the flowers in the bouquet are not. you wonder if he actually picked a bunch of yellow carnations with a few daffodils because of their meaning or if he randomly chose them because they’re pretty.

you wish it’s the latter one.

there’s nothing left to say. so you mutter a soft thankyou before leading him out of the door, the atmosphere beckoning that there’s something that has to be addressed before it’s too late. and so, you take the initiative.

“he’s just a friend,” you break the ice, making him look up at you. “tanaka, i mean. we’re close friends. he’s married.”

akaashi doesn’t say a word. all he does is nod before taking his leave and driving away from your place. you wonder if you said something wrong. but there’s something you don’t know, and it’s the smile on his face that accompanies him through his drive back home.

.

.

.

time feels slower when he’s not around.

it’s hard to not panic about the situation when you told him everything, and all he did was nod and leave as if nothing really matters anymore. you can hear kaori calling you dumb for thinking this, but what if he’s in fact disappointed that you weren’t in a relationship, all because he couldn’t be with his crush?

maybe you are dumb, especially for making akaashi sound like worst of the antagonists in those romance mangas.

i need to see him. you whine again and your eyes settle on the scarf he left you almost a week ago. a pause in your inner monologue. yeah, you need to see him.

.

.

.

“it’s 10 pm.” is the first thing he says after opening the door, offering to come inside. you raise your brows looking at his apartment, which is a little too spacious for someone who has been living alone.

“i just wanted to return this scarf,” he takes the bag from your hand, mumbling something along the lines of ‘you could’ve returned this tomorrow.’ but honestly, a scarf is just an excuse. “by the way, thank your mom for the takoyakis,”

“for sure,” he doesn’t even look at you because his eyes are too busy typing something on his phone. you wonder if it’s the love of his life.

“so how are things between you and your crush?” he looks at you with eyes wide open as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. and you feel so stupid for asking that.

“we didn’t talk for a few days but i met her today so we’re good,” he responds with a sweet smile and you can swear, it sounds a little too familiar for some reason.

a trail of silence fills in the room along with the fragrance of hot chocolate that’s emerging from the kitchen. you’re left wondering if you should still agree to this whole proposal. he seems happy with her, you think. and despite all the years you’ve spent pining over him, you have no right to ruin their relationship.

your heart aches, but it’s fine as long as he’s happy.

“you know,” you speak, taking the cup from his hand. “i’d love to meet her some day.” you notice him trying to hide his smile as he takes a sip. and you wonder if there’s something funny about this situation.

“she’s here, as we speak.”

your brows raise in astonishment. “really? where?”

a chuckle escapes his lips— one that you fail to notice— as you whip your head around, looking for her. akaashi thinks you’re cute, especially for being impossibly clueless.

he places his cup aside as he leans against the counter, pulling you closer by your wrist before resting his hands on the corner of your waist. “right in front of me.”

“oh,” and then you look at him with a stunned expression. “wait, what?”

and then cue him laughing at your face as you look at him in disbelief. you step away from him, still processing the situation, because akaashi did not just watch you make a fool of yourself for over a week straight, not only in front of him but also two of your friends. ( your friends don’t even count, honestly. they’ve seen worse )

“i hate you, keiji!” you exclaim, smiling uncontrollably at the relief that sets upon your heart, because no matter how much of a prank it was, the ‘crush’ really did have you on your toes.

he laughs. “do you, though?”

“shut up!” yes, and you still regret telling him about your crush on him that day. to be honest, you regret it even more. “and what if i tell you i cried myself to sleep everyday because of your silly prank?”

he shrugs. “i’ll make it up to you,”

“how?”

and all he does is pull you closer once again, capturing your lips with his as his hands rest on your hips, smirking as you kiss back right away. you’re mad, you really are, but you can never be mad enough to not kiss him back, and snake your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

it feels euphoric the way his lips move in synchrony with yours, fitting like puzzle pieces. akaashi tugs you closer by your waist, a faint gasp escaping your mouth that dissolves immediately into your breaths mingling together.

he pulls back, much to your disappointment, looking at you with love sick eyes and dust of pink sprinkled on his cheeks. “is that enough?”

you press your lips into a thin line, pretending to think before planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “hm, not sure. let’s do it again and then i’ll see if i can forgive you.”

akaashi smiles, kissing you again, this time with a much slower pace as the moonlight graces you both with it’s magic. he tickles your neck, a series of giggles spinning around as you pull back, playfully slapping his arm. he stares at you for a brief second before reaching for your lips once again, mumbling a gentle ‘i love you’ against them as you give dwell into the kiss once again.

and you remember thinking, maybe you shouldn’t forgive him at all.

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[mishamoonberry]

백망되 / LCF AU where before Original Cale Henituse (OGCale) switches place with Kim Rok Soo, he finds himself in the future where Cale Henituse is Kim Rok Soo

non-canon compliant | hurt/comfort | copy-pasted from twitter | ignores the existence of LCF part 2

When he wakes up in the black castle, he finds himself surrounded by kittens and... a baby dragon? They walk around him and call him so familiarly, and Cale's heart nearly drops into his stomach when he sees Ron walking into the room.

Ron offers him lemonade, but he's too busy staring at the old man who is supposed to be dead years ago because of Arm, alive, healthy and well.

Confused and shaken beyond belief, he jumps out of the bed, ignoring the calls of children he doesn't recognize and runs out of the room. He finds himself in a castle he has no knowledge of. There he sees a bunch of people he knows and doesn't know.

Rosalyn and Lark, who are part of that black haired hero's party. (Though this Lock is much younger and less destructive than the one he remembers--). Children from Wolf tribe he doesn't recognize, but calls out to him so very familiarly.

Vicross, as neat as always and seemingly comfortable in his presence--the chef who disappeared with Ron, and he remembers the shell the man became when Ron... when that old man died tragically.

He meets an elf dressed in white and gold-- a transparent white haired woman floating beside him-- (what the fuck?) a woman in black robe and spiderweb like marks on her skin-- (a necromancer, what the fuCK--)

and lastly-- he meets choi han. choi han, who looks at him and smiles like they're familiar with each other. choi han, who talks to him politely yet familiarly. choi han, who seems close to him. choi han, who calls him "Cale-nim" instead of "bastard"

it is at that point when cale remembers the voice he heard before that white star bastard shot fire at him. the voice of the god of death, offering him a deal. a deal to save his family and this god damn kingdom they live in. a deal to fix this mess caused by the white star.

a deal where he can meet his mother.

he remembers of that deal, and looks at choi han. the bastard who beat him up for the sake of harris village. ...the damn harris village. his mother. his mother's death. the reason why his mother had to die in the first place.

cale remembers, and so he coldly speaks to this man he has no fondness for, insisting that he speaks with him. alone. with no eavesdropping.

the last point is directed at the people who've chased after his running figure, his glare so cold and uncharacteristic of their young master cale that they can't help but to follow his orders, out of fear of offending him further.

in a room bare of anything aside from choi han and cale himself, cale curses choi han out when the other called him 'cale-nim', the disgust so stark clear on his face. enough for choi han to realize that this person is not his cale.

"you're not cale-nim." he says, wary.

cale scoffs. "i was born as cale henituse and grew up as cale henituse. who do you think you are?" that's when choi han realizes. this is the real cale henituse. the real owner of this body that kim rok soo woke up in a few years ago.

"...you're the real cale henituse."

"damn right, bastard."

choi han hesitates. "...where is kim rok soo?"

kim rok soo. cale remembers that name. thats the name of the person he's supposed to switch places with. the person the god of death said will help fix things up and save his family.

cale insists that he's the one who has the right to ask questions, because this is his body. and choi han reluctantly relents after confirmation that cale hasn't hurt kim rok soo, that he randomly wakes up here without knowing anything at all.

cale starts to ask about the war. the wyverns. puzzle city. the empire. the monsters. the sealed god. the golems. alchemy. arm. white star. although choi han is bewildered. he answers them all truthfully.

the empire is defeated, choi han says. the golems are destroyed. black despair is no more. the monsters are defeated. the sealed god is no more. the secret organization and white star are as dead as they can be.

hearing all of these, cale can't help but to tremble.

"then," he says, with a shaking voice.

"then, what about the henituse territory? what about my father? violan, basen and lily?"

seeing his trembling figure, choi han answers truthfully.

they're safe. the county is a duchy now. duke deruth is busy with territory management. basen is going to become the next lord. lily is shaping up to be a great swordmaster.

choi han sees the trembles of cale's shoulders, and only watches with shaking eyes when cale bursts into laughter. loud, maniacal laughter, though his shoulder is hunched, and he is trembling.

and then, much to his shock, he sees tears.

cale is crying. no, he's sobbing.

painful, relieved sobs. his sadness and grief bleeding out of his very figure. the original cale henituse stands in front of choi han, sobbing to his hands even as a smile starts to bloom on his lips.

faintly, choi han can hear him mumble.

"they're alive," cale sobs.

"they're alive. they're alive. that's great. that's great. that's really, really great."

then, as if no longer able to see choi han in front of him, with hazy eyes and tears streaming out of them, cale henituse looks up to the ceiling, his voice a soft whisper.

"i accept your deal."

chill runs up choi han's body at that point, and he watches in shock as cale suddenly falls to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, unconscious.

the next day, cale henituse will wake up with kim rok soo inside of the body once more, with no recollection of what had happened the day the original cale henituse took over his body for a little while.

the deal has been set, and the gears of fate turn once more.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Cupid's Curse

Chapter Seven

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, horny times, misuse of powers (oops), random strangers??

Taglist: @gingermous @mt2sssss @dev-angeline @graciexmarvel

Chapter Six | Chapter Eight

Two series of events happened: Steven went to talk to his friend, the living statue, and you went to a bachelorette party.

First off, you aren't much of a party person. Once you party hard with Dionysus and his worshippers, you kinda partied enough for centuries. Yet, here you are at this bachelorette party with your college friends. You can't help but be beaming with joy equally with the bride to be, not only do you welcome the aura of Philautia and Storge. Love of self (not to be confused with narcissism) and the love of friendship. Given how your months was Eros and Mania filled, you need a breather! Sure, you rather not be a dance club with loud music and glow sticks or glowing paint on people. Feels like you are reliving the party time college years all over again.

Seems she wanted her bachelorette party to be a blast rather than calm. Oh well.

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you, aaaah I'm so happy right now!"

"Good ol' ball and chain to keep ya both financially stable."

"Dude, go fight the system another time."

"Haha, you won't feel that way once you find 'the one'."

Your other friend scoffs.

"I'm happy for you. May you have many happy years together." You say to your friend.

Back in college your friend was (is) head over heels for this guy in her engineering class. They both are the same friend groups and it was painfully obvious they are into each other. Everyone was trying to encourage them to talk to each other, but they both were shy and only spoke to each about assignments and the latest episode of some show. It was unbearable to most how they were when left alone, you adored it. You wanted to snatch those two and bottle them up. Of course, being their friend, you help them out by giving them a nudge towards each other.

Aphrodite would not approve if you left them to part ways after graduation never opening up to each other!

By nudge you mean a prick of the legendary golden arrow dubbed the Eros' arrow or Cupid's love arrow often seen on Valentine's day decorations.

For the bad reputation of Cupid's arrow… Most if it is very true. Cupid's arrows, infamous for all the problems it causes both mortals and Gods alike. The golden arrow of love and leaden arrow of repulsion, these famously used on a God and nymph. The golden arrow is rightfully feared for the most stoic person can become an emotional romantic within seconds of it piercing the heart! The arrow head is laced with the power of Mania (obsessed) and Ludus (playful), thus creating the lethal poisonous version of 'love at first sight'. The rose colored glasses affect.

Apollo knows well the power of love.

The nymph knows the power to be repulsed by love.

The leaden arrow temporarily draws away all ability to love someone whether romantically, platonically, familiarly, etc. Heart hollowed, though temporarily.

You never used the arrow frivolously! With great consideration, a lot of praying; you know what needs to be done as a creature of love.

One arrow shot through both hearts connecting them both; the rarity to seeing Pragma taking place warms your heart to this day.

So, you are letting it go how they and yourself agreed to party it up this last night of single-ness for your friend!

"Wow, that's what I call true love." One friend says as the newly bride shows off her engagement ring. You laugh at how materialistic that is. She shows it off then regales everyone with stories about her relationship. The trips, the silly arguments, the way she supports him and he supports her. "Guys, I don't know what to do with myself! He's perfect! We're perfect!"

Seems the golden arrow didn't have to do much work besides giving them a confidence boost to speak their feelings out to each other.

"Enough mushy stuff," You helped book a spot in the seating area of the club for this party. Your cynical friend gestures for the waiter to start serving the drinks. Glowing liquor in shot glasses. You eye it curiously as everyone grabs a glass then lifts it up in the air.

"Cheers!" They shout toasting each other's shot glass of liquor in the air, "Come on, (Name), live a little."

Normally, you wouldn't drink.

Given how these months have been torture… And your heart has been playing games with your life.

"Alright. One drink." Might as well enjoy yourself for the night.

One night.

The drinks (yeah you didn't stop at one) started to kick in while you were awkwardly dancing. You are greatly undressed (by them you are dressed perfectly) for this! Too much skin, too short, too tight, wearing a wig is overheating you.

The panic is first, it tries to ground you quickly before you start letting loose.

"There she is!"

To them they see this party animal but you know the true, a piece of Aphrodite comes out. With her heart you understood why she was the way she was, so full ready to burst with love; no one to connect with her on the same level as see. Ares came close but then she was forced to marry Hephaestus, soon love made her become what you once tried to deny: a bored God.

The Olympians died because of their own hubris, the demi-God children (most of Zeus) grew tired of Hera and other Gods putting them through unnecessary trials for their amusement.

Hercules to lead them.

You swore to never become like the Gods of Olympus, though you are still half mortal and will make mistakes, you will never be cruel.

"Wooo, yas get in there!" Cheering as you give in the beating heart's whims.

You are flawed, mistakes are natural.

*

Nature boy, you know the song. It's playing right now, a bad remix of it, but playing nonetheless. You are drunk on everything right now. The liquor, the environment, the man touching you and you touching him. You moan when you feel someone behind you grinding against your ass. Eyes glowing pink as the flashing lights go wild with each bass drop, your dress lifted a bit further up until a bit if your ass is showing.

They don't understand you as you speak Greek, moaning out nicknames for you don't know who is touching you. Nor will they ever know who you are. Because of the wildness of your group, wigs are something you all wear for fun. A loud outfit, loud wigs and shades, be loud and partying hard.

You decided to wear all pink, wig, shades, dress, and nail polish; not much covered but enough to be decent. A walking Eros.

"Fuck," Hand tugging you to the back where the bathrooms are. The second dancer is forgotten (and will forget about you for your touch is a temporary high right now), the first one pinning you to a wall kissing and touching you everywhere.

His heart is so light yet with so many complex emotions. You touch his chest letting your power seep into the cracks of his broken heart.

"Shit!" It hurts at first causing him to stop, then he smiles as he stares at you with temporarily pink glowing eyes for a second. "You are…" You shush him with a kiss, full of love. "Damnit, need this off of you." You giggle at the way the stranger is so needy, so desperate, so lonely. You have fucked someone touched starved before but if you didn't know any better this guy's heart seems hallow.

"Soon," Promising him. "Gods!"

Your powers are going haywire as he touches you and you touch him. Eros running high in your system, his man adding yet taking thus increasing how go he feels every second he is touching you.

"Relax," Whispering the command in his ear, you tug him back into the crowd. "Enjoy this with me." His hands on your waist as music changes, "Good boy." Your hands playing with the dark curls, dark brown eyes hidden behind his eyelids but those long lashes are beautiful too, tall enough to tower over you but he curls over you as he is led to match this new dance.

You don't want to fuck him (yet), you only want to fill his sad heart with a bit of love. A sad divided heart, you want to hold it and bathe it in your love.

[my-st0ff]

Something Soft and Delicate

Chapter Three

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x female reader

Chapter Song: About You Now - Sugababes (Lyrics in bold)

When your eyes unscrew all of a sudden you are met with a glamorous palace ceiling. Soon your other senses kick in, the comforting sensation of Cullen's big strong arms vulnerable, squeezed around your torso and a heavy head rested on your stomach. The faint noise of gentle snoring grows more apparent also. Cullen's face twitches and his head snuffles further into your every now and then whilst you stroke carefully around his ears and in his hair.

"D-did I fall back asleep?"

A husky, tired and familiarly polite sounding voice asks.

You: "Yes, sweetheart"

You speak mildly.

Cullen: "I'm... sorry, y/n... I want to be up and to enjoying these first few days of our peace together... it was so easy that night. Now it's all just hit me"

You: "Cullen your being so very dramatic. Just let me take care of you"

Cullen: "And once I've calmed a little... can we bring yesterday back around?"

He suggests.

You: "Oh, we'll have to see about that won't we?"

You answer flirtatiously.

A few hours pass and Cullen is beginning to feel much better, physically. You float around the kitchen blissfully preparing a lunch of mixed cut fruit whilst Cullen contently watches from a stool with a beaming goofy smile (of which he was not aware painted his rosy cheeks).

Cullen: "You know, sandwiches would have sufficed, my dear"

You: "Heyyy, this is our honeymoon"

You grin.

Cullen: "Don't be ridiculous, even if late I promise to take you someplace wondrous"

His eyes follow your figure as it swiftly moves around the kitchen. Your body was absolutely perfect in his eyes, if somebody had held a sword to his throat and asked him to point out an imperfection of his lover he would be sentenced to an early grave. He breaks himself with a great deal of willpower from his lost in thought state.

Cullen: "Ah! That's what I had to remember. I have to return a book to Dorian. One moment..."

He springs up and paces to the bookshelf before heading towards you rather than the door so that he can place a hand on each side of your hips and then dot a kiss to your temple, all from behind you.

Cullen: "I'll be right back, my wife"

You giggle at his boylike excitement to refer to you as his wife in any sentence he can.

You: "mhm"

You beamed. His footsteps were soon completely hushed as he left the building.

Everything was about to be finished up. 'He said he'd only be a minute' you huffed in your own mind. A small shuffling could be heard throughout the halls, becoming closer by the moment.

You: "Silver!"

You call to your Mabari, assuming hen's the culprit of all the unsettling noise.

You: "Silver, here!"

Your stomach begins sinking slowly when multiple attempts to call Silver over fail but the sound proceeds to become louder.

You: "Cullen?"

You attempt to no response again. A sudden bark makes you jump out of you skin. Reassuring you for a moment until it processes in your head that the bark was from behind you and the noise was continuing from the hall infront of you. Not wanting to take your eyes off the doorframe for more than a moment, you turn quickly and call Silver over. He takes a seat by your side. Pants from your companion align with your rapid heartbeat.

You: "Stay with me, boy"

Before you could attempt any elaboration a hand forces itself over your mouth. A muffled scream fills the massive hall whilst your hand flies forward desperately and knocks over all the food you had prepared and smashing several bowls on the tile floor. Your loyal mabari takes a good chunk out of the criminals leg with an intense and terrifying grab from his jaw. Growing all the while. They couldn't keep hold of you, then you could see it was a tall, hairy man - built with both muscle and a share of fat. Your frame was small compared to his and you felt humiliated and panicked as you stared him down for a moment in just an unbuttoned shirt of Cullen's and underpants. You scurry swiftly to where you legendary bow was mounted on the wall, grabbing it down like it was worth nothing and then doing the same with an arrow from the same display (where there sat a case attached to the wall filled with old recovered arrows from great battles as the Inquisitor). You point to his shoulder and shoot. Then another in his left kneecap. He screams out in pain and he stops grabbing ahold of his gnarly leg and fully falls to the floor.

You: "Silver, here!"

The growling beast heels to your side.

You: "What do you want?!"

You yell.

"Your dead!"

You pace over, pointing your bow downwards with an iron grip. You kick him once in the ribs, hard.

"You bitch! Y-your a murderer!"

You: "Oh, your fuckin' crazy, right"

You grab ahold of the bedshirt that dresses him and yank him up, with a bit of extra pulling on his arm. You begin to drag him towards the grand looking front door.

"You killed my daughter! My only daughter"

The man begins to sob. Your brows curl in confusion and distress. You can't bring yourself to ignore the comment. You look directly into his miserable eyes, queuing him to go on.

"You stole the last of my coin and we starved! My daughter, she was only little, she didn't survive... I did everything I could"

He hissed through yellowed teeth up at you with green eyes full of malice. That's when it rendered in your mind that you must have stolen from this man during your time as a petty thief... and it hurt you to your core that you did not even remember him. You were speechless.

"You don't remember?"

He asks with an expression that insisted you were the worst entity to ever inhabit Thedas.

"I caught you and fought back... when I did you overpowered me and I begged you. Saying I needed the money more than you ever could"

Those words let it all flood back. His hands clasped around yours with his knees on the ground whilst his bloodied face begged for the pathetic handful of golden coins you held in your fist to be returned to his leather sachel. The words 'I need that money more than you ever could, woman!' meant nothing to you and only filled you with agrovation.

You: "How could I know what you meant?"

You speak through gritted teeth though - a brow knitted downwards suggesting you did not fully support the opinion you were trying to portray and were in fact questioning your own morality. The question proved more than offensive to the man when he spat upwards into your face. You instinctively bring your hand up to wipe off your disrespected skin, giving him an opportunity to jump up and take you into a suffocating grasp.

A splitting headache forces your eyes open. Ice runs through your veins not only from your panic but from the freezing stone floor that supported your weight as you lay on your side. It didn't take long to realise you were a captive, held in a cruel-smelling classic cell, barred and built from stone. All you could see beyond the bars was more stone and then a set of stairs going up - meaning you could conclude your analysis of the room with the knowledge that it was a basement.

'How could I let this happen, im the inquisitor. Should have been strong...'

You muse.

After what felt like forever (half an hour) of searching your confinement like a caged rat, the room began to echo with footsteps. You collapse to the ground and sit defeated with a sigh as your vision adjusts to the darkness casted by your new enemies shadow.

"How's you head?"

He queries you with his arms folded.

...

"Speak"

Spittle flung through the air.

You: "it hurts"

You put bluntly, annunciation of every letting sharp and aggressive. That's when he belly laughs, you could almost feel his breath from where he stood. He clasps the bars and his gaze darkens.

"I made sure I gave it a few extra hits after you passed out"

He's somehow smiling through his diabolical words. His deep Norfolk accent bellows, bouncing off every wall.

You: "There must be something I can do-"

"Don't humour me!"

He cuts you off in sudden rage. Your eyes widen a little but you resist showing your fear.

"I know everything changes when you get a status like yours... for no reason at all may I add other than getting lucky"

He motions to your left hand, which you then clasp with your right.

"But there's one thing I'm sure of, your a dirty murderer and a thief and deserve to be treated like one... if the ones we rely on to punish you decide to remain blind then I suppose its up to me"

You: "You have to listen, i'm a different woman now. The inquisition has helped thousands to make better lives for themselves and we can help you..."

"Screw your inquistiton, muderer. You can give me a sob story as well if you like, but I know how I feel about you... I know what you did"

You: "What I've done to survive!"

He stands stunned for a moment at your backlash before his nostrils flair and his breathing turns audible and strong.

"You know what, just for that"

He speaks low, almost mumbling. He paces back up the stairs, a rumble as his large frame picks up speed.

Your captor returns shortly with a pale of water that spilt with every careless swing as well as a cloth gripped in a mighty fist. His burning brown eyes shoot down towards you as you back up slowly. Your back hits the bumpy stone wall, he begins unlocking the entrance, you feel like a cornered deer.

You: "Please don't hurt me"

Your sheepish tone alerts something within him as he halts his panting and his face relaxes into an almost saddened look.

"I don't want to do this... you should know that"

You: "You don't have to"

Your voice trembles.

You: "Give me tonight and I'll show you how truly wonderful of a place Skyhold is, please... listen, I am so so sorry. Maker knows I am, I wish there was something I could do to bring give back all that I had ignorantly taken from you but there is not... but I can help you to make a new life for yourself, its the least I can do"

You had reached out a shaky hand throughout your proposal and managed to gradually place it on top of his. He placed the bucket and rag down and pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut when he blinked. He rips his hand from yours.

You: "I'm so sorry"

You begin to breakdown. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your voice pitches up.

You: "I thought that was the only way, There was nothing to compare to"

He peers up at you with glistening eyes.

"I too know the suffering of poverty... of being cornered into things you don't want to do... I thought this would be so much easier, but I can't bear it. Your just a little girl"

He sniffles and cries just a little. You were in fact a woman of 26, but you understood his perspective and it was gut wrenching. A man who had lost his young daughter now saw her within the eyes of her "killer". Besides he appeared much older than you after all.

You: "I can't imagine the pain"

Your brow turns downwards in empathy. He pulls a leather wallet out of his pocket and then opens it to slide out a childish drawing, the subject of which you could not make out.

"Not a day passed me by when I don't think about you"

He begins, lost in the simple scribble.

"Nobody gets me like you. And there's no moving on, and I can't be without you"

You stand still and almost relaxed. Calm enough to not take your chance to run for the hills. You, instead, place a hand on his shoulder - snapping him out of his emotional trance.

"I... if you can find it in your heart to ever forgive me, I'd like to take you up on your offer. I think."

You: "Forgive you? Don't jest"

You rub his shoulder gently.

"Perhaps, I could cook you some stew- unless you'd like to just leave"

You: "How about something to eat and then we'll come back together, you'll be safe with me. Though I cannot guarantee trust, especially not from my husband"

His face twitches quickly into shock and then a pained expression.

"Please, tell me you have no children that I have taken you from"

You: "no, just me and my husband... he's most likely looking for me this very moment. But it's okay, I'll see to it your treated with respect"

...

"Why?"

...

You: "You have done nothing wrong"

You smile.

He makes his way out of the cell, you following behind weakly.

"And I'll cook you a remedy for your head"

You: "Your a mage?"

"No, my wife was. She taught me a few bits here and there"

You: "A very impressive skill, I must say"

You reach the stairs and all of a sudden he is forcefully pushed back down the few he had walked up with a pained groan. The ceiling rattles as if there's a stamped passing over it. You panic. A figure follows after his flailed body which you take a moment to identify is the one of your husband. A sword is yanked from his side and aimed towards the man. You cry out an extended 'no!'. It is too late. A slick sword penetrates through his chest, a gurgling groan escapes his throat before a few short breaths. The end that was forced out his back was covered in disgustingly fresh blood. Your hand covers your mouth as your breath quickens and you uncontrollably sob.

"It's okay"

A wry smile appears upon his face with half shut eyes that pin on your face. His breathy words somehow upset you further. His content to die tore you apart. The sword being heaved out makes you jump. Your skittish body drags you backwards away from the two people, one now expired, one who had opened up to you and was on his way to cook your dinner, one you did not know the name of. Then the other, the person who knew you best in the entire world and who you had married. The latter strides towards you. Your wide eyes remain glued on the deceased stranger. His arms envelope you but your numb self would have barely noticed if he hadn't started talking. His chest rose and collapsed rapidly as he panted and his head fell onto the top of yours.

Cullen: "What did he do to you?"

He mewls into your hair.

You: "...N-nothing"

You snivel.

You: "You k-killed him"

Cullen pulls away to look at you, your head still turned to look at the dead man. He gently pulls your head in his direction by your chin.

Cullen: "My baby... he- you-... let's get you home. We'll talk then, yes?"

He asks then whipes his nose, his eyes red with emotion.

You: "Yes"

Is the only response you can string together.

Cullen: "I thought- I don't know what I thought. Maker, if something had happened to you"

He pulls you in once more and grabs at your hair as he let's himself cry.

You were strung along behind Cullen hand in hand through templars upon templars surrounding the small wooden house that sat in the woods you were being held in. Your fuzzy vision flew around your surroundings as you moved, in disbelief at the amount of people that were sent out and so soon to bring you to safety. Once finally reaching Cullen's mount, a silent and melancholy slow ride upon Destrier was shared back to Skyhold.

Chapter Four:

[mino-diabolik]

—A n accelerated gust of wind breezed past the trees and grass, as in a solid but invisible wind held off the air that caused even sturdier of woods to sway and bend at the bark, angling to one side as the rustling of grasses all but sounded in the winds before it all came silent and still just as quickly as it came. The disturbance ceased to ring the atmosphere when all came to a halt upon arriving at the front porch of a rather grand yet ancient looking mansion, a mansion not of a modern era. There was a silence that hung in the air as the thump of paws altered to the sound of footsteps, the movement coming to a stop as an audible knock on wood sounded on the surface of the door which, upon finally opening, was attended by the younger generation who was present in the household—

“Hey little guy—”

“—Catch!”

The brown paper bag, a rather large one, larger than a simple meal bag already indicating the large proportion of items inside the bag, which previously before was held in the bite of his beastly fangs right before in his beastly form was tossed directly towards the automatic grasp of hands upon being signalled, just making it in time as the founder managed to hold it in an embracive catch—

“A little belated I know but still better than no courtesy, right?”

After passing the bag and regards, he lifted his paw, licking the front and sides of it as he started rubbing his face a little bit, the mere gesture seemingly like the motions a cat would do before letting down his paw again and looked back up at the other—

“Eh—But I didn't get you anything too grandiose since we're not all that familiar with each other to gift anything exclusive presents, and considering the position between teacher and to mere student.”

“So I just picked this up on the way to the gym out in the mountains. It's still plenty hot since it was a rather express delivery, heh.”

Even before digging into the contents of the bagged container, the strong blissful aroma of familiarly tasteful fried and savoury foods came as the very scent itself was a call to those who were basically addicted to the food, instantly recognisable upon first smell. Not to mention the giant initial of the branded chain eatery which was imprinted on the front surface of the paper bag, which already betrayed the mere existence of what was to be expected in the bag—

“Anyway, happy birthday little guy. Gotta head off running now before evening falls.”

“See ya.”

With that last said, right away he turned around and started to scurry away, bolting off with the same ferocity and speed just as he arrived, making the prompt exit before another word could be uttered from the other as he disappeared—

||★𓃮 Happy Birthday to one of the characters I had been admiring the most xD Sorry that it's belated, I had been busy~Hope he still enjoys this extra big set of Mc Donald order anyway✨

Having been alerted to a disturbance around the home, Mystic was quick up in his feet with the intention to decipher who’d cause such a ruckus to breakout. By the time he’d reached the front door, however, a large feline stood just mere feet from the threshold; a brown bag hanging from its mouth.

Mystic stood in place, both dumbfounded and amazed. He wondered for a moment if it was one of his aunt’s Familiars, but quickly figured otherwise once he listened to the large animal speak. He recognized the voice. He really did! It was simply that he was too struck that he couldn’t clearly remember.

The Founder quickly stretched out his hands to catch the package; the warmth of the food sipping into his palms and the mouthwatering scent wafting up into his nose. He stood in place, simply watching the feline take a moment to groom itself as they explained the reason of this sudden visit.

Mystic glanced down at the package and was about to speak, when it turned and sprinted out into the night, as fast as it had approached. His own Familiars settled to chase after, but the Founder quickly called them to him. A second time, he blinked and inspected the bag, before gazing down the way the feline had disappeared.

“…Was that Kuron—!?”

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Of Princes and Witches (Rewrite) Chapter 20- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: After the battle at Pelennor Fields Alphine finally reunites with the one she loves.

Word Count: 2.8k

The sun was already in the sky as Alphine sat with Pippin and Gandalf near the locked door of Minas Tirith. Faramir had been taken to the House of Healing, where the healers got to work. They had gone back down to the lower levels of the city to see what could be done, but it seemed there was nothing. It was too late. The armies of Mordor would be in any second, and they would kill everyone. So, the trio sat in silence as the Witch King flew over the city on his beast while a troll attacked the door. 

Alphine sat beside Pippin, stroking his hair comfortingly. She couldn’t tell who she was trying to comfort more, him or herself. After a while, the Hobbit looked at Gandalf. 

“I didn’t think it would end this way,” he said quietly. His defeated tone made Alphine tear up. She turned her head so he wouldn’t see, though her attention was piqued when the White Wizard answered. 

“End?” He repeated. “No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The gray rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silvered glass. And then you see it.” The Witch looked at him intently. 

“See what, Gandalf?” She asked softly. He smiled at the duo. 

“White shores and beyond a far green country under a swift sunrise.” Alphine watched a small smile form on Pippin’s face as he looked at Gandalf. 

“Well,” he muttered, glancing at her optimistically. “That’s not so bad.” The girl ran her fingers through his hair once again as she nodded, sporting a weak smile of her own. 

“No. No, it isn’t,” she agreed. The door behind them banged with each impact of the troll’s mace, and the soldiers continued trying to prevent it from breaking. Gandalf nodded encouragingly at Pippin, who closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gain more courage in himself.

It was over. The battle of Pelennor Fields was over, and Gondor still stood. Not only had Rohan come to their aid, but it seemed that the Army of the Dead also arrived to play a part in the victory. Alphine stood with Pippin and Gandalf, she and the Hobbit staring at the ghosts before them in awe. 

“Release us,” the King of the Dead demanded. 

“Bad idea,” a familiarly gruff voice Alphine recognized to be Gimli (though she couldn’t see him), interjected. “Very hand in tight spots these lads, despite the fact they’re dead.” 

“You gave us your word,” the King argued. Silence settled over them for a moment, then the Witch heard Aragorn speak. 

“I hold your oath fulfilled. Go, be at peace.” 

With that, a great wind swept over the field and the Army of the Dead disappeared, revealing Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. Alphine’s breath hitched in her throat at the mere sight of the Elf. Relief washed over her like a tidal wave when she didn’t see any immediate injuries on him save for a small cut on his head. Her eyes met his, and she watched his shoulders drop in an eased manner. 

Their minds seemed to work as one because they began walking towards each other in unison. Their paces grew faster the closer they got. Neither of them slowed down as they grew closer. Instead they collided in a tight hug the second they were close enough. A relieved sob left Alphine’s lips as Legolas caught her when she all but jumped into his arms. His grip on her was tight, but it provided a sense of comfort for her. 

At that very moment, just like before Helm’s Deep, deep and profound feeling of love hit her. And it was that feeling alone that was enough for her to pull his lips down to press against hers. It was obvious that Legolas was surprised by the action, but he melted into it less than a second later. The kiss was filled with all the passion and love they could possibly portray through such an intimate act.  

One of his hands lifted to cup her cheek just before they pulled away. Alphine’s eyes slowly opened and a small giggle left her lips when she realized he was already looking at her with a blissful smile on his face. The mere sound made his smile widen as his thumb stroked the apple of her cheek. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered as if he only wanted her to hear it despite the fact that they were relatively alone in the area. “I didn’t see you anywhere during the battle and I grew to fear the worst.” The girl smiled gently with a lovestruck kind of look. 

“I wasn’t on the battlefield,” she explained softly. “I was on the other side of the wall with Gandalf and Pippin. But part of me desperately wished I was on this side so I did not have to worry about you so much. When I heard that Rohan had come to Gondor’s aid I was elated, but I was also distressed the longer I didn’t hear any word of you or our companions.” 

“It makes me feel much better knowing you did not bear witness to all of this,” Legolas glanced around before facing her again. “I would much rather it be this way.” 

The girl merely smiled in response, lifting a hand to press against his cheek. Words could not describe the relief she felt that the Elf she loved had survived. Not only had he survived, but he was relatively unscathed, which was even better. And she knew that he felt the same way solely based on his relieved smile as he leaned into her touch. 

“Your head, it has bled,” he suddenly said, concern written on both his face and in his voice. Alphine had almost forgotten about hitting her head at that point. The blood on her temple had dried hours ago and she’d been so busy with Faramir, Gandalf and Pippin that the thought of cleaning it hadn’t even crossed her mind. She lifted her hand to assess the damage then flinched as her fingertips grazed over the wound. Her fingers continued downward and she was surprised by how much blood had actually spilled from it. Of course it was dried and cakey by now so it probably looked bad. 

“I promise it is not as bad as it looks,” she answered. “The wound itself is relatively small but it is just a previous cut reopened.” The Elf nodded, still looking worried. He took her hand in his, placing a kiss on the back of it. 

“Come, let’s get it cleaned before it gets infected,” he muttered, beginning to lead her back to the city. 

The Witch thought better than to tell him that the wound would likely be healed by the next day simply because she wished to be close to him. Sure, it may have sounded selfish, but she didn’t care. After all they’d been through this far she deserved to be a little selfish for just one evening. 

Faramir had graciously given the Fellowship their own rooms for the time being for their help in battle. Alphine and Legolas originally had their own rooms, but ultimately decided to just share one so they would not be separated again just yet. The others opted not to tease them for the time being. After all, they were watching young love bloom between their new friends. 

Alphine sat on the large bed that stood in the far corner of their temporary room. Night had come for Middle Earth a few hours ago, though you wouldn’t be able to tell because the moon and stars were once again blocked. That didn’t stop the Witch from trying to search for them while she waited. That is, until the one she was waiting for finally arrived. Her attention to the sky was broken when she heard a faint knock on the door. 

“Come in.” The door opened with a quiet squeak and in walked Legolas. He carried a large plate of food (likely for them to share) in one hand while the other held a bowl of water with a dry rag hanging over his arm. Alphine couldn’t help but smile as he gently kicked the door closed and made his way over to her. 

“You know you don’t have to do that, right? We are sharing a room,” she reminded him amusedly.  

“I simply want to give you the option of modesty should you want it,” he answered simply as he set the plate and bowl down on the bedside table. Alphine scooted over to allow him to sit beside the table on the bed. She watched as he gingerly dipped the rag into the water, wringing out most of the excess when he lifted it again. Wiping one hand on his pants to dry it, he turned to face her and carefully lifted her head toward the light by the chin. 

And then he got to work on dabbing away the blood as carefully as his skilled Elven hands could manage. The cloth was surprisingly warm. That must have been what was taking him so long. Alphine knew that he did it for her comfort, and it filled her with joy to know he was so mindful of her. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he worked, almost too softly for her to hear if the fire that burned in the fireplace was any louder or if she were previously speaking. 

“Not anymore.” 

“Good,” he nodded, a smile forming on his face. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

“No, meleth nin (my love).” While the Witch was happy to learn that, all other information went on the back burner at the nickname. Meleth nin. It was a common phrase amongst Elf couples, she knew that, and yet it felt so personal to her. Like the name had been thought of for only her by Legolas. 

“I am glad, meleth (love),” she responded, not even trying to hide her delight about the word. The Elf seemed to understand that because he laughed softly. 

“Meleth nin,” he repeated, finding amusement in her giddy smile as he set the rag down and grabbed both of her hands. “Amin mela lle, meleth nin (I love you, my love).” 

“Now you’re just messing with me,” the girl half joked, a blush dusting her cheeks. 

“Maybe, but it still rings true,” Legolas answered with a shrug, letting go of one of her hands to grab the rag and finish cleaning her wound. 

“Gandalf wants us in the Great Hall as soon as possible tomorrow. We should eat then get some sleep,” Alphine commented, earning a nod from him. 

“Very well,” he said while moving the rag and bowl aside, grabbing the plate afterwards and setting it between them. The rest of their time awake was spent feeding each other and catching the other up on what they missed while apart until Alphine finally fell asleep. 

Surprisingly, Annatar was already there waiting for her to arrive. They were in the long corridor that ultimately led to the stone hall - the Great Hall of Gondor as she now knew it. Just like last time, he was dressed in royal garbs, though this time he wore an Elven crown. Alphine didn’t have to look down to know that she was in the same dress. This time, however, she noticed a small weight settled on the crown of her head.  

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” she half joked as a greeting. Rather than make a witty response like he usually did, Annatar’s face remained mostly neutral. 

“I’m afraid we do not have much time to waste,” he spoke, holding out his hand. “I have something to show you.” The girl was surprised, but took his hand and allowed him to lead her down the corridor. Rather than head for the Great Hall like she thought they would, they walked in the opposite direction towards the exit. Just before they reached it, though, he stopped her in front of a full-length mirror that hung on the wall to their right. He moved to stand behind her, allowing her a full view of herself. 

She’d been right about being in the same dress, but that wasn’t the only thing that was different about her. On top of her head sat a brass based crown that was covered in black and dark gray crystals formed to the shape of leaves and diamonds. Under that her hair was down and brushed out (a stark contrast to the quick updo she’d kept her hair in for the duration of the quest). She almost didn’t look like herself. 

“What do you see when you look in this mirror?” Annatar inquired, breaking her concentration on her appearance. 

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “What do you see?” 

“I see a girl who is more powerful than she realizes, and is more fit for a Queen than any Man or Elf in Middle Earth,” he answered, resting his hands on her shoulder. “You could do so many great things if you were to be by my side here.” 

“Here in Gondor?” She questioned confusedly. “But Aragorn-”

“That Ranger is no King,” Annatar snapped, something she’d never heard from him. She looked at him through the mirror in shock, watching as he took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. 

“At least, he won’t be soon,” he said as he stepped away from the mirror. He took her hand once again and continued leading her outside of the Great Hall and onto the parapet. And what she saw outside brought her horror.  

The originally beautiful green field that stood just outside the gates of Minas Tirith had become little more than a desolate wasteland. There was almost no nature to be found, the land instead being covered with dried magma to create gray ground. Visions of what happened to the occupants of Middle Earth flashed through her mind in a quick vision. 

Hobbits were enslaved, covered with dirt and with chains around their ankles. Orcs with whips commanded their bidding. Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin had been killed for attempting to defy him and destroy the One Ring. Dwarves were sent to the mines to search for jewels for the King and Queen’s riches collection with barely any rest. Many Men and Elves were killed during an attempted uprising - Legolas included. The Elves that survived were sent to Valinor - though it isn’t the blessed realms anymore. It had turned into a place of ruin for them with Balrogs and other foul creatures forcing them to live in fear for the rest of eternity. The surviving Men were forced down into slavery as well. And worst of all, Aragorn was  imprisoned down in the dungeons to rot his life away. 

“I have one more thing to show you,” Annatar muttered, leading her back inside the Great Hall directly into the throne room. There sat…Alphine and Annatar. Annatar looked virtually the same as the one standing beside her, but the Alphine that sat beside him was different. Upon first glance she looked no different, but then she noticed her eyes. They were no longer the beautiful brown color she always loved about herself, but almost completely black instead. And they were filled with anger, and with malice. Each of her fingers sported a singular ring (all of them beautiful in their own ways despite their different designs). The other Annatar’s fingers were decorated the same, and things finally seemed to click in place for Alphine. 

All at once it made sense who she was facing. It was Sauron, the abhorred. Their enemy. A shaky gasp left her lips and she took a step back, directly into Sauron’s chest. His hands came down to rest on her shoulders, but the touch was no longer comforting. Instead it felt like it was suffocating her. 

“Just imagine, everyone would love you and bow before you without hesitation,” he whispered into her ear from behind. “To win your favor would be nothing but the greatest honor to them. You could have all of this if you choose to join me.” 

“You would have me become a tyrant,” Alphine muttered shakily. “Running a world full of people forced to love me or otherwise face death.” 

“Wouldn’t that still be better than you being forced to live in fear?” He asked, turning her to face him. His face somehow looked different to her. It was still beautiful, but now that terrible glint in his eyes made too much sense to her. The longer she stared at him, the more panicked she became. It felt like she was drowning - or perhaps just suffocating under his gaze-

[feralego]

first date meme || juniper & tao, prompt two || @fakedsciences

          They don’t really get to go out. It’s a necessity on both ends to not be seen together. But he wants to find a way; there has to be a way where they can occupy a space together without raising any eyebrows. Without drawing attention.

          The plan he comes up with isn’t ideal, but it’s something. Tao asks her to an art museum, and explains that if she enters first, he’ll catch up to her inside. Explains that he’ll do his best to fly under the radar with a casual, grey man disguise.

          So Juniper enters the museum alone, and from a distance, a very drably-dressed and medical-masked Tao watches her disappear inside. The planned seven minute and thirty second gap seems to drag on and on, but he’s at the door and pulls it open as his timer buzzes in his pocket. This will be the closest they come to an actual date for the foreseeable future, and he’s eager to make good on his promise to catch up with her. Even if they can’t speak to each other or look too long or familiarly at one another. Even if their plan has Juniper constantly moving forward, occasionally leaving Tao behind for them to appear to be on their own schedules.

          Not together. But as close as they can reasonably be, given the circumstances.

          Tao watches her out of the corner of his eye as she walks slow, appreciative circles around a marble statue of some broad shouldered hero of lore; as her eyes track the brushstrokes of what was surely a scandalous painting at the time of its conception. And each time he catches up to a piece he’d seen her examine more closely than the others, he tries to see it through her eyes.

          But often, he just sees her in the masterworks. In their beauty and skill. He sees her caught in the cage of a gilded frame. To be admired from afar, but never to be touched.

          Heart sinking at the thought, and very near to the end of the exhibits, Tao inches closer than he’d dared to before. In the span of a few minutes, the buffer zone of six pieces between them becomes five, then four, then three. Two.

          She’s so close now. And they are alone, save for the security cameras. Surely… Surely whoever is assigned to watch them is so underpaid and jaded that they wouldn’t notice a little innocent display of affection.

          Closing the gap entirely, Tao stands shoulder to shoulder with Juniper in front of the last painting: Pierrot’s Embrace, by Guillaume Seignac. The back of his hand brushes up against hers, and he imagines himself at her neck; imagines the pair of them as his interpretation of the figures in the piece. Juniper blindfolded by her kind heart, smiling as she holds a stake that could very well drive him off. Himself shrouded behind layers of makeup–a mask of sorts–giving in to what he wants and taking lustful liberties with his Columbine while he can.

          The tips of his fingers brush Juniper’s briefly again, but then he’s slipping his hand into hers, twining their fingers together. It’s not a kiss. And it’s a far cry from the embrace before them. But it’s more than enough for now.