#i made them transparent but i notice the line color looks weird

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass tonight

I got so much going on with uni, but I couldn’t resist. If you too are queen/king of procrastinating uni work, you have my deepest support! Hope you enjoyed x

TW: none (except fool language)

Part 2    -    Part 3*

Office parties have never been y/n’s cup of tea, the idea of enjoying yourself in the very place people usually count down the hours before they can leave, is rather ludicrous in her humble opinion. Alas as the boss’ personal assistant, she not only had to plan and organize the whole shebang but her presence was also required, supervision purposes and all that. The only solace sweetening the deal for her was that she’d be in charge of the catering too, and y/n learnt very early on that good food and greater booze could make any boring work function at least tolerable.

Now that the festivities are in full swing, conversation flowing almost as heartily as the champagne in the guests’ eager mouths, y/n thinks she did quite well. The vast open space of the office is decorated with taste, the music set at the perfect level as to not overpower the boring chitchat bouncing off its walls, and to her greatest delight, the catering company she hired has truly outdone themselves. All in all, everybody seems to be having a grand time, and y/n decides that’s reason enough to officially relieve herself of her supervisor’s duties.

As she scans over the assortment of canapés, mini-quiches, crudités and other mouth-watering ambrosias, y/n fails to notice the tall figure casually approaching her. She’s in the midst of pondering whether she should try the humous or a cream cheese and salmon toast first, mouth salivating and stomach growling in appetite, when a raspy voice interrupts her inner battle, "I see m’not the only one who’s here just fo’ the food".

Her eyes pop off the delicious hors d’oeuvres to the sight gracing them next and she doesn’t know which is the most appetizing. Because standing a few feet from her is Harry, vibrant smile and pretty dimples on show, as he leans over the verrines platter to pick the best-looking one. He’s wearing an olympic blue floral suit on top of a scandalously unbuttoned transparent shirt, a bold number that would grant anyone else looks of surprise and confusion but looked absolutely divine on his broad frame. Besides, after two years working at the office, everyone had gotten used to his unconventional fashion choices by now.

Y/n quirks an eyebrow in curiosity as she dips a cucumber stick in a bowl of humous, before quipping, "not a big fan of these things?"

Harry lets out a small chuckle in a ‘no kidding’ way, and attaches his emerald eyes to hers, "they’re kind of a drag, if m’bein’ honest."

She smiles at his admission, realizing they both share an aversion for mundanities, "I know right. Like, why party here where everyone has to be on their best behavior when we could be down at the bar without the boss gallivanting around?" she cries out in exasperation and not for the first time, Harry thinks she’s quite possibly the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His smile widens the tiniest bit at her passionate rant, "my thoughts exactly. Do we even know what we’re supposed to celebrate?" The question makes her laugh, she wouldn’t have known either if not for her involvement in the affair, "well as the person behind this all drag," she give him a pointed look at his jeering choice of word, "it would be weird if I didn’t."

Harry’s face falls at the possibility of having offended her, but his uneasiness quickly dissipates when she starts laughing at him. "M’sorry, that came out wrong," he tells her before letting out a giggle of his own and y/n revels in the moment. The idea of interacting with him beyond the usual ‘here’s the presentation for today’s conference’ or ‘do you have the quarterly report ready’ is rather intoxicating for her already feeble nerves. "Don’t worry, I take no offense, I’m just as bored as you are," she reassures him with a smile, "the party is for a new potential investor, something about wooing them with some ‘corporate fun’. S’a load of bullshit if you ask me".

Harry nods at the explanation unimpressed, his boss’ intentions being the least of his worries. Aside from being the classic douche every manager typically insists on being, the guy has always made his distaste about him pretty clear, so Harry would rather focus on more interesting things. Like how beautiful y/n looks right now, her hair tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, leaving a few strands to fall around her face. "You look amazing, by the way," he brings himself to say, though he thinks his compliment doesn’t even do her justice.

Y/n looks down at her own outfit then: a knee-length red dress composed of a skater skirt and a backless top that only holds with a couple pressure buttons clasped behind her neck. Her cheeks warm up to match the color of her apparel, betraying the timidity she’s always fallen victim of whenever he happened to be in her vicinity. Y/n’s never been one to shy away from her feelings or trip over her own words when facing her crushes, but there is something about Harry that teleports her right back to her sheepish 13 year-old teenage self. Also, she’s not too keen on office romances and the drama that usually ensues so she’s always made sure to stifle her blossoming attraction and keep their relation work-appropriate. Surely that must account for most of her awkwardness, doesn’t it?

Her eyes trail back to his face and her response comes in a shy euphemism, "thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself." It’s enough to quirk Harry’s lips in a bashful smile, their  complexion evidently on edge as they tread uncharted territories. Professionalism has always regimented their interactions with kind but polite rigidness, neither of them quite inclined to cross that invisible line, but tonight seems to challenge that.

Tonight, Harry is resolute in his infatuation, no longer inhibited from social construct but driven by a quest for knowledge; anything that will help him decipher her carefully shielded crux. Tonight, he endeavors to scrape the edges of her rough diamond to expose the gem encapsulated inside, peel back the stoic layers of her exterior to find her unapologetic and intrinsic nature. Tonight, he is thirsty for secrets and confidential disclosures, and he won’t leave until he’s drained it all out of her. Unless she tells him to fuck off, obviously.

Harry keeps the conversation going as he browns the buffet for a new delicacy to snack on, "so, what would you be doing if you didn’t have to be here?" He wants to know everything, the present and the past, the good and the bad, the superficial and the substance, the messy and the orderly, but he figures he should start by what she likes to do in her own time. The things that loosen her up after a tense week at work, the things that will make her eyes shine with passion as she relates them back to his curious mind.

The question reaches her ears as she takes a sip of her drink, "mmm," she smiles around her glass before placing it back on the table, "-that’s easy. Playing pool with the gang at Gibson’s." Her answer spills without hesitation, a heap of follow-up questions already brewing up in Harry’s brain, but the foreign name is what beckons his attention first, "Gibson’s?" he echoes with a faint rumple pulling the skin between his eyes. Is that the name of a friend? A boyfriend? Out of all the questions he’s contemplated, y/n’s relationship status never crossed his mind. He’s always assumed her to be a single woman, the evidence of a significant other never present in her language and demeanor.

A wave of relief washes over him at her elaboration, "it’s a bar couple blocks from my place. It’s been my friends and I’s HQ ever since we all met." The sentiment has her eyes sparkle at the remembrance of all the happy memories the place hosted, and Harry stores the information in his mental list of all y/n’s soft spots.

"Sounds rad, so you play pool?" he inquires with enthusiasm. He’s been knows to play a game or two in his youth, though it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt the weight of the cue in his hands as he sinks ball after ball in their respective pockets. He remembers the elation of it all, the adrenaline coursing through his veins at each successful strike, and his heart flutters at the thought of ever sharing a game with her; she seems like the competitive type in the most entertaining way possible. Before his thoughts can spiral into much filthier realms, like bending her over the table mid-game when his own skills prevail and she turns into a sore-loser, y/n’s voice rings him back to reality.

"Uh uh, correction," her expression suddenly turns in false seriousness before she proves him right about her competing tendencies, "I win at pool." Her eyes are so full of confidence, a spice of mischief sparkling in their corner, she would have no difficulty persuading anyone of anything that passes the threshold of her mouth. Harry certainly doesn’t doubt her mastery of the bar game, but it doesn’t stop him from challenging her in a slightly elevated pitch, "oh is that so?"

Y/n only grins at the banter, not at all fazed by his taunting remark, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." She reaches for another snack, not taking her come-hither look off his handsome face, and Harry revels in her flirtatious advances, a smug smile taking possession of his lips as he surfs of the same wave of seduction. "Is that a challenge?" he philanders back, fueling the sensual back-and-forth they seem to have embarked upon.

"Not much of a challenge if I know I’ll win," y/n replies with cheek, her self-assurance once again burgeoning like sexy wildflowers sprouting from the ground underneath Harry’s feet, wrapping around his ankle and growing along his body to twine around his spellbound heart. He absolutely loves her unfaltering aplomb, finds it undoubtably sexy but he can’t let her know that just yet.

"Cocky."

"Confident."

They both chuckle at their repartee, enjoying this ping-pong of quick-witted banter they’ve never found in anybody else before. It’s like their intellects were meant to collide in galvanizing forces, the encounter of two fiery psychs too brilliant to one up the other.

Harry is mesmerized by their connection, if he knew sparks would fire this bright, he would have made a move ages ago. "Fuck, you’re something else," he shakes his head in incredulity before confessing, "definitely not what I expected."

Y/n’s chest tingles at his comment, a rivulet of liquid glee leaking through her arteries to pump her heart and her ego full of bliss, "Oh so you expected something, did you?" She punctuates her teasing with a thousand-watts power smirk, and Harry finds it strikingly alluring.

Not about to let her have the upper hand however, a burst of smugness crosses his features as he boomerangs her earlier allurement back to her, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." It earns him a deep jazzy laugh rooted in her tummy and a tinge of pride swirling in his own. He wants to pry laugh after laugh from her belly until her last giggle, only relenting once the muscles in her chest are aching from unbridled joy.

Y/n sighs in content before taking a bite out of a mini-tartlet as she considers how to proceed in this much too flirty conversation. "So what would you be doing tonight, if not for this stupid party?" she returns his first question before realizing,  "-wait a sec, what are you doing here if you hate these things so much? My presence was mandatory but yours isn’t."

"I’ll have you know I was coerced into coming too," he quips back in a fake defensive tone, hand pressing to his chest, "Mike from accounting begged me to tag along, he just broke up with his girlfriend so I didn’t have the heart to tell him no." The selfishness of the gesture softens her heart in a goo of adoration, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Softie."

"Chivalrous."

His comeback has her giggle, a rejoinder already tiptoeing at the edge of her lips, "see, who’s cocky now?" Her eyes are full of jest and lightness, somehow taking the weight of the party off his shoulders. Turns out, food and booze are not the only remedies for boring work functions, y/n’s company is just as effective if not more, and that’s with the guarantee of a hangover-less comes next morning. Harry is truly happy he decided to make an appearance tonight, a sentiment he definitely didn’t foresee for the night. The realization has him faintly shaking his head in amazement, his lips letting out another whispered "something else" softly enough that it doesn’t quite reach her already inflated ears.

"So did you have any plans tonight?" She reiterates the question not wanting to ever stop talking with him.

There are probably a hundred exciting plans he could have conjured up to come off half as intriguing as she seems to be, but instead he decides to go the honest route, "nah, I would have probably crash on my couch, this week’s been pretty hectic." His truth is confirmed by the faded blackness tinting the skin below his eyes, a proof of hard work and long hours under the heedlessness of a greedy superior. Y/n knows it all too well, having had firsthand experience with her boss’ jackassery. That’s why she directly inquires, "boss giving you trouble?"

Part of Harry is eager to steer the conversation back to more pleasant waters but he guesses talking a little bit about work was inevitable at some point, especially since they both share palpable distaste for their superior. "The maniac keeps giving me last minute reports like I’m expected to work all night along on his bullshit projects," he explains dejectedly before running his hand through his luscious curls in sign of frustration. "Barely finished in time fo’ the party tonight, I had to slip in his office to put the file on his desk, that fucker had already left."

Y/n listens attentively, her chest tightening in empathy at the recollection of his misfortune. She’s very familiar with the embittering feeling that comes with working your ass for someone that barely registers your efforts and dishes the office hours before you can even dream of clocking off. She’s faced the same scenario time and time again, including tonight, when she’d come up to lock the boss’ office hours after he left to get pampered for the party. She barely got time to make the double commute to and from her place, much less spend hours getting dolled up. She does remember the odd file on her boss’ desk though, "oh I was wondering what that blue folder was about, he never usually leave unattended paperwork on his desk."

Harry starts nodding in confirmation before stopping dead, eyes widened in distress, "wait, did you just say blue?" he asks in urgency.

Y/n frowns at his sudden agitation, her mind reeling to try and visualize the state of the surroundings she left several hours ago. She’s pretty positive she saw a blue binder laying there, not that she knows the ramifications of that simple fact, "yes I think so, why?"

The dire nature of the situation becomes painfully obvious as Harry’s face turns into a mess of  dread and panic, "oh shit, oh fuck, no no no," the words keep tumbling from his mouth in a ramble of nerves. "So stupid, m’so fucked" he keeps muttering self-admonition in quiet anger, hands griping at the root of his hair.

Concern is starting to fester in y/n’s guts as she takes in his disheveled state, "Harry, Jesus, take a breath, tell me what’s going on," she steps closer to him, one hand softly holding at his biceps as she tries to connect their gazes.

Once his eyes plug into hers, pupils blown out in turmoil, he finally calms down enough to word  out his mishap, "s’not the right file on his desk, I only use red binders for the reports." Spinning around out of her hold to shout his stress back to the wall in a loud "fuck!", Harry’s mind is caught up in a swirl of possible excuses to give to his boss, all sounding more ridiculous than the other. He can’t think of way to fix his mistake and escape the inevitable berating coming his way comes morning.

Fortunately for him, y/n is not about to let this happen, "it’s okay, we’ll fix this," she encourages. "What’s on his desk right now?"

Harry looks back at her then, not totally convinced that this all mayhem is salvageable. His boss is never going to tolerate this minor negligence, especially once he finds out the irrelevant material mistakenly slipped amongst his work. "My 14 year-old niece’s english project" the answer comes out as a question, a hint of self-deprecating humor lacing through his words. "Bloody hell, he’s gon’ have my head fo’ that one."

Harry is adamant in his doom, but if anything, y/n is not a quitter. "No he’s not. He hasn’t seen it yet, right? You said he was already gone when you brought the file."

He takes a long breath, "I suppose not."

"Guess it’s a good thing I have the keys to his office then, yeah?" She smiles proudly as a beacon of hope shines on his conflicted face. The forest green of his eyes seems to breath back to life in an endearing revival, effectively tugging at y/n’s heart’s merciful strings.

"Fuck, you’d do that fo’ me?" his shoulders loosen up in relief, the tension slowly simmering down to a gentle buzz, as he envisages the possibility of an illicit break-in. Well, as illicit as it may be, considering they have the keys. Still, best they don’t get caught snooping in the boss’ office, for both of their sake.

"Of course, silly. No questions asked," y/n answers with a smile, and her willingness to put herself in potential trouble, warms Harry’s heart from inside out.

"Y/n, you’re an angel, a life savior," he grabs her shoulders in each of his hands, his gratitude painted all over his soft traits. "Fuck, I could kiss you right now." The words fly out of his mouth without him realizing their significance after spending the last ten minutes coming onto her. And well, y/n isn’t too opposed to the idea either, and she thinks she might hold him to that promise in retribution for her saving grace when the time and space works better in their favor. "Alright Casanova, let’s get your ass out of this mess," she grabs her purse form the table and takes his hand to guide him through the cluster of people milling around the office space, eventually reaching the row of elevators across the room.

As they stand waiting for their lift to come, Harry starts fidgeting with nervous energy, feeling like a kid who’s about to get caught trying to steal straight from the cookie jar. "Shit, alright, we have to be discrete if we want to pull this off," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the room in case someone would look at them and read their plan straight off their guilty-looking faces.

"Says the guy in the flashy suit," y/n immediately counters, in an attempt to revive the playfulness of their synergy. The night was going swimmingly before the whole ordeal, and she’s convinced this foxy little adventure can only add to the appeal of an evening full of surprises.

Harry’s indignation at her dig teeters from his pouty lips, "hey! It’s not that bad." She giggles at his poor rebuttal, and as the doors of the elevator open, they quickly take a few steps inside.

"Harry, that suit is so loud, it could break the sound barrier," y/n teases as she eyes the crowd of people frivolously chatting away, while waiting for the door to close back.

"Thought I cleaned up nicely," he cheekily throws back her words from earlier, letting them resonate within the small confines of the elevator as they make their way up to their boss’ office.

She turns to face him then, a smile spreading on her supple lips, "don’t get me wrong, you look wonderful, just nowhere near decent for a secret spy mission."

Her words have him beaming back at her in a second, his mind fixated on her compliment rather than how impractical it is that his clothes are flashier than the Queen’s; in his defense, neither are y/n’s. "Damn, just got upgraded from nice to wonderful, this night is actually turning around," he chirps as the door open to the deserted hallway of the top floor.

"Alright, more action and less flirting, Styles," y/n playfully chides him. "Go get the right file, while I open his door, we should be quick in case he decides to bring the tour and his special guest up here." She sends him off with a tilt of her chin in what she knows to be the direction of his office, and Harry complies with ease and starts backtracking a few doors down, "yes ma’am."

While he’s gone to fetch the correct document from his office, y/n rummages through her purse to find the key of her boss’ office and unlock the door. Once she’s inside, she makes her way around the imposing mahogany desk commanding the space, and finds the imposter file sitting innocently on the polished wood. For pure curiosity’s sake, she starts leafing through its contents and lets a small chuckle as she takes in the endearing work of a young aspiring writer.

Her reading is interrupted by Harry’s hurried strides when he joins her in the room. "Here’s the damn report," he flings the folder on the desk next to his niece’s, red clashing with blue, mocking him for his slight negligence. As he absorbs the sight of y/n’s face engrossed in the teenage’s fiction, he moves slowly behind her, getting a glimpse at his niece’s whimsical words over her shoulder, before his eyes settle on the bare skin of her back.

Y/n welcomes his sudden proximity, has stranding on end as she feels the soft puffs of his breaths against her neck. "Your niece is quite the writer, does she always come to you for advice?"

She ignores the shivers running down her spine, and gulps when Harry’s voice greets her ears in a deep quiet hoarse, closer than she excepted, "usually, yeah. I was the one who got her into writing, so it’s kinda become our thing, I guess."

She smiles at his softness, "that’s really sweet," and draws in a long breath in a vain attempt to calm her jitters. She can almost feel his presence on her skin though they’re technically not touching, her fingertips tingling in anticipation.  

Another frisson travels through her when he responds with a low "mhm," his nose slightly grazing behind her ear, taking in her beguiling fragrance. Jasmine and vanilla, fresh and soft, exciting and comforting at the same time; it suits her perfectly.

"Harry-" she doesn’t know what to follow the whisper of his name with. Careful? Not here? Please don’t stop? At this point, she wants nothing more than to succumb to his affections, regardless of their improper whereabouts.

Harry brushes the back of his index down the smooth skin of her back in a featherlike caress, "thanks fo’ saving my ass, tonight," he murmurs into her ear, before laying a small kiss behind it.

Y/n is exulting under his tender ministrations, her eyes closed to enhance the feeling of his touch. "Anytime," she breathes out as her head tilts backward, a hand coming behind his neck in a silent plea not to let go, and Harry smiles against her skin at her receptiveness, goosebumps of his own blossoming across his body.

His next words are out of his mouth before he can think, "mmm, I owe you a big one," his playful persona resurfacing now that the situation was handled. They snort in unison at the double-entendre, and Harry slides his free arm around her waist to bring her closer to his chest in silent remittance. Y/n doesn’t mind though, she kinda likes this boyish side of him, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Gross."

"Hilarious."

Their ping-pong of wisecrack is back despite the tension permeating the air. It’s the kind that speeds heartbeats and moistens palms in lustful anticipation, the kind that curtails people’s breath as their lungs fill up with voluptuous aphrodisia. "Will you let me kiss you? Show you all my gratitude? I really wanna have a taste, love," he pleads for her permission, and y/n is too consumed by desire to deny him, "have it."

In one swift move, he spins around and latches his eager lips onto her. Passion ensues, hands roaming all over each other to find the perfect hold; the back of a neck, the lapels of a suit jacket, a few strands of hair, the curve of an exposed ribcage, it’s all intoxicating but there is always more to explore. Their tongues are caught up in a heated tango of their own, swirling around each other to quench the thirst of passion, licking their lustful way around their mouths.

At one point, Y/n finds herself pressed against her boss’ desk, one leg around Harry’s waist as he attaches his hips to hers in a heated embrace that leaves them breathless upon parting. He rests his forehead against her temple as they both process the intimate exchange, not ready to burst out of this fairy bubble. "Fuck, been waiting to do that for a while," he exhales with a smile, still incredulous at the evening’s proceedings, and the girl nestled in his arms.

"Same," she agrees and gently cups his face to bring his eyes back to hers, barely believing the adoration and warmth swimming within his lovely olive irises.

Harry’s heart feels like a ticking bomb about to implode, the sweet taste of her lips already providing him with a fix he didn’t know he was addicted to. "One more," he demands against her mouth before diving into another searing kiss. This time his hands explore more meticulously, scavenging for other soft spots to add on to his mental list. The dimples in her back right above the curve of her ass seem to rival the area at her side right below the swell of her breast, but Harry is pretty sure he’ll find more sensitive spots in the near future. Hopefully.

Once again, the need for oxygen compels them to part way, but neither of them make a move to separate their tangled limbs. Y/n is reveling in the moment she’s been daydreaming about for months, "so good," she keeps whispering sweet nothing against his lips while rubbing her nose against the bridge of his.

Harry clears his throat as he regains his bearings, realizing that there are still very much in the middle of their boss’ office, a place they are not supposed to be in, doing stuff they’re not supposed to be doing. At least not here. "Let’s get outta here, yeah?" he brushes a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, "you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and I’ll tend to yours once we’re back at my place, what’dya say?"

And well, how can one say no to that?

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #Harry fic #harry styles au #ofc #reader insert #coworker!harry #office au #fluff #flirting #harry styles fluff

[ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime]

Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 3

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

———————————————

Chapter 3: Memory

"Mother."

"What is it, Suzu?"

When I called, my mother turned around and replied.

Eleven years ago. The house was still new. There was no garage yet, and potted flowers were lined up all over the garden. "Do not cut my hair."

I told her that and ran down the slope in front of my house. Mom walked down the stairs opposite her, resting her hand on her waist and waiting. I ran away in the opposite direction, bouncing, saying that I would never let my hair be cut. But I was taken back without a hitch. She was seated on a bench in the garden and dressed in a haircut cape. “I’m going to make you look cute, Suzu.” After cutting my hair, I don't like the tingling of my hair. She shook her legs and sharpened her lips. But when she held the scissors without hesitation, she cut my hair all at once. "Because you’re going to be an elementary school student," I hope the hair on both sides doesn't stick to my shoulders. The bangs were far above the eyebrows. Even when I went to school, my neck was tingling for a while.

I played a lot with my mother. I took a sumo wrestling on the lawn of the riverbed in the evening. I pushed her by force and my mother rolled on the grass. I won, I laughed happily. Mother also laughed. I asked why? Won’t she cry if she loses? Mom shook her head. “I'm glad that the weak Suzu has become stronger.” Dad was laughing while lying on the grass. My mother often made salted seared meat. She lightly sprinkles salt and roasts the bonito stabbed on a gold skewer from her lenticel over an open flame on the stove. I was staring from the top of the chair. Since the fat drips, the microwave oven will not get dirty if you bake it while sucking it with cooking paper. When it gets burnt, dip it in ice water to cool it, and then drain it. It was a style. So as a kid, I had a hard time holding a thick piece of salted meat with chopsticks, and I had a hard time putting it in my mouth. Mom was waiting for dad's return, holding a mug and watching my struggle.

My dad was a salaryman at that time, and he wore a tie and went out to the city every day. Perhaps because of that, we had some money in our house in the old days. Mother bought a state-of-the-art smartphone at the time. I decided to try out the performance of the on-board camera, and on dad's lap, I pointed my smartphone at my mom. I asked dad to help put mom in the frame and pressed the shutter. She is dressed in white.

The smiling mother, she was beautiful. The photo of her was printed on paper and is still at the house. I was a cheerful child running around, unlike now. I definitely liked playing outside rather than inside the house. If there were trees, I climbed, if there were leaves, I tore them, and if there were insects, I chased them. But it didn't burn in the sun. I must have been such a constitution. Instead, my face is freckled.

I was often injured. My knee was also full of scratches. In the woods, on the riverbed, on the slope in front of my house, I often stumbled and fell. My mother ran up in a hurry and she hugged me tightly, crying in pain. Mysteriously, it hurts somewhere. That's when I was happy. I don't know how many times I fell because I ran around vigorously and wanted mother to hug me. Every time mother rushed in as if it was a big deal for her daughter and worried. Every day was like summer vacation. I clung to mother doing the laundry and cleaning and played. After lunch, she opened the tatami mat, laid a summer futon on the tatami mats, and we took a nap together. The smoke of the mosquito coil was rising slowly. When I woke up, most of the time, I couldn't see my mother sleeping next to me, and she was busy doing housework. In retrospect, she never been told me that she is busy. She was always with me when I asked for it. Since my house was in the mountains, I rarely went out to eat somewhere, and instead my mother cooked any kind of food. One day she saw it in a picture book, and she said she wanted to eat yakitori. She had never eaten it before. My mother made yakitori by sticking chicken on skewers one by one. For the first time in my life, I saw yakitori with the naked eye. I didn't know how to eat it, so I couldn't do well by chewing the meat and removing it from the skewers. Dad and mom were staring at me. Never missing what her daughter experiences for the first time in her life. The place where we, who live in the mountains, go out to play is not an amusement park or a shopping mall, but a campsite further in the mountains from our house.

On a sunny summer day, my mom and I wore a wide-brimmed hat and crossed the subsidence bridge. Dad was carrying a lot of camping equipment. The water crystal pool in the depths of the Yasui Valley was a breathtaking blue color even for us living in the area. The water is so transparent that you can clearly see your shadow on the bottom of the river. I feel a little scared as if I were floating in the air. My mother was an advanced swimmer. She boasted that her mother, who was once a local kid, swam like a kappa every day in the summer. She knew all about the fun of the river. At the same time, she never let her swim in dangerous places on dangerous days. Mom wraps around me, floating. She dived into the water to show her off her skills. Still picked up by her, I became anxious and called out. “Mom, don't go.” But mom, she swam in the blue water, as if she couldn't hear me.

One evening, I was playing with my mother's smartphone and saw a strange app. I put it on. When you launch the app, you'll see white and black horizontal stripes lined up. I pointed to what this was and asked my dad who was next to me. Dad looked it and twisted his neck, calling mother, who was preparing dinner. After dinner, mother's hand fixed the smartphone I was holding vertically. I laid it down and found it to be a piano keyboard. As prompted, I pressed one of the keys. There was a "do" sound. I looked at my mother's face. My mother also saw my face, saying that she had come out. It's mom’s music production app. Only then did I look around my mother's room and notice. Old records, cassette tapes, and CDs are lined up on the shelves to the end. And if you set them on a record player or cassette deck and pass them through an amplifier, music will be played from the left and right speakers. The collection was a brilliant one that accurately captured the main points of the history of classical, jazz and rock. I didn’t know at the time, the value and meaning of such a lineup being packed in a room at the end of the world.

In that room, I pressed the keys of the app one after another and recorded. When played, each sound sounds in the order in which they are arranged. Even if you enter an insane scale, it will play back in a lawful manner. I was so happy that I bounced on my chair. My mother was laughing too. Warm incandescent light was illuminating us. After that, I was crazy about this app. I had my mother lend me a smartphone and I was playing around with it day, night and morning. The operation was intuitive and easy to use. There were words that I couldn’t read because it wasn’t a children's app. And there were many functions I didn't understand. But I was absorbed in that kind of thing. I was completely absorbed in the exciting new experience of writing songs. I composed a number of songs and previewed them in front of my mother. The mother who finished listening gave me advice in short words each time. If you do xxx, it will be better, or the trick is to do xxx. She sometimes took out some of the records in the collection and listened to them for reference. My mother is neither a musician nor a composer.

I think each piece of advice is accurate even if I look back on it now. Over and over again, she listened to my melody, and she said she noticed something, and she sang herself to make sure it was. When I asked, she said it wasn't bad. She said she was smirking at me as she said. I put the sound in a place that I wouldn't normally put it. I'm sure this song was a failure, and all the work I've done so far will be ruined. But as it gradually takes shape, it seems strangely cohesive, she said. I felt as happy as I wanted to. I'm sure it's my parents' favor, but even if my mother added, I was happy. For me, I'm not making it with the intention of letting someone else listen to it. It would have been nice if only my mother could listen to it. My mother sings along with the song I typed in. Take the tempo with her right hand and sing gently. The voice of mother, who was also a member of the chorus made by her friends, echoed and was transparent.

She listened to my weird songs many times. I was happy and sang along with it. Anyway, it’s a song that is as nice as my mother.

I couldn't. Happy memories of me and mother suddenly end here. And that August has come. After this, all I have is a painful, painful memory. The voice of a little girl crying and crying echoed in the riverbank. A girl was left alone on a sandbar. Is she 4 or 5 years old? She looked smaller than I was. It was so sunny just a while ago, but I noticed it wasn't a blue sky, and it was covered with overcast clouds. The beautiful and calm river was cloudy, flooded, driftwood-filled, and surprisingly fast. I can imagine that it is raining heavily upstream. Before this happened, there were people happily making noise on the opposite bank when the flow was still transparent. They are now staring at the girl on this shore. She wore colorful outdoor clothing that made it easy to see that she probably came from the city, not a local. The girls' clothes were also bright colors that I had never seen. Why did people from the city overlook the girls' flashy colored clothes? Why did she forget her existence and she came back to this shore? What to do with friends, their families, and those who enjoyed fishing and canoeing on the riverbanks.

It seemed that she couldn't do anything, and she had no choice but to stand and look like a stick. It's no wonder you're standing. The violent flow of the river separated the girl from the people. Everyone realized that it couldn't be helped. One of the adults was talking to someone on his cell phone. However, everyone can see that where the girl is, is gradually narrowing. Everyone is aware that it is very unlikely that the rescue team will arrive in time. Therefore, I have no choice but to stand up without being able to do anything. Is it just listening to the girl's crying as it is? At that time, someone picked up the red life jacket beside the canoe.

I went forward while staring at the girl. She was a mother. Mommy, and I hurriedly clung to the hem of her mother's clothes. She realized that what her mother was trying to do was too dangerous. She wouldn't have been anxious. She screamed and pulled hard, trying not to let her go. Mom crouched down and squeezed my hand, and she told me something. At that time I can't remember what mother said. Maybe I was screaming and not ready to hear the words. Mom stood up to shake off my chasing and ran, locking the buckle on her life jacket. I fell down on a stone in the riverbank trying to chase her. Still, I got up and shouted at mother's back. Don't go. I think mom didn’t hear my words. While checking the girl's whereabouts, I went around the river, went into the water, and got in the stream to help. It started to rain.

How long has it passed since then? Suddenly the surroundings became noisy. The girl was rescued from the river. Adults are pulling the soaked and tired girl out of the river. I was staring at while getting wet in the rain. People running up. A mixture of joyful voices and crying voices. Are you okay? Open your eyes. I'm glad I was saved ... The girl was wearing the same red life jacket that her mother wore. At that moment, I understood at once what was happening. Mom isn’t here.

"Mother ..... Mother .....!"

I looked left and right, searching for her.

Not anywhere.

"Mother ...!"

In the distance, I heard an ambulance siren. The girl was wrapped in a blanket.

Carried by many adults, she leaves the riverbank. Everyone is crazy about it and realizes that my mom isn't there.

She isn't.

"Mom!" Only I raised my voice and kept calling. Many times. Many times. Many times. I don't remember much after that. When I heard that my mother was found all the way down the river, it seemed like a lie. It wasn't long before I realized that the mug that mother was using was missing. Dad put a picture of mother, which he took someday, in a picture frame and put it in a corner of the kitchen. He had to add flowers every day next to it. Neighbors bothered to talk to me every time I met them on the road, listened to me in a friendly way, and encouraged me with tears. Meanwhile, the Internet was flooded with anonymous posts about the accident.

"It's a suicide act to jump into a river flooded by rain"

"It seems that she was confident in swimming, but it's different from the pool."

《It is irresponsible for my child to help someone else's child and die》

《If there is an accident, playing in the river will be a nuisance and annoying》

《Because helping people is a good person, this is what happens》

The person who wrote it probably didn't know anything about the actual situation, and the day after he wrote it, he probably forgot what he wrote. However, the person who wrote it keeps sticking in my chest forever. Immediately after the accident, an acquaintance told me with resentment that it was terrible when I saw this. In front of these words, I was too young to understand all the meanings. However, as I grew up and became able to understand the meaning of the words accurately, I continued to suffer from the unconscious malice contained in them. Losing mother.

How should I pass on these writings as a bereaved family, even though I still can't accept them, as if the mother who helped me was all bad?

Aside from me, my mother just smiled in the picture frame in the kitchen. From that accident, I think something has changed decisively from what I used to be. One evening, in mother's room, where dust began to build up, I stood on her chair, hoping to return to her happy memories. And I sang the song I sang with mother. But when I started singing, I realized I couldn't sing at all. My voice became stuck in the back of my throat and couldn't get out of my mouth. I was confused. Something in my heart was suppressing me from singing. Why can't I sing? Tears came out.

Hey mom. Why can't I sing?

It was clear that the reason why singing was so fun and necessary was because my mother listened to it.

However, just because you can't sing... You don't have to worry about anything. Even if you can't sing, no one will blame you. Life just goes on. I went to a local junior high school. The jumper skirt uniform was stuffy. Many of the elementary school classmates went to the town as they went on to school, and there were not half of the students remaining in the local area, so even in junior high school, it became a compound class. Therefore, the chorus practice was accompanied by the vice-principal teacher, and it was decided to sing in all grades. There were three people in all grades. Because there were only three people, I quickly realized that I was just lip-synching without singing. I was asked why I didn't sing, but I didn't say anything. I thought they would get angry, but they didn't get angry. It means that only I can visit from the next practice.

I sat alone in a corner of the music class and watched everyone practice. I may have looked like a lethargic girl who was just silent. But inside that, there are things that can't be translated into words.

I think it was swirling. When I left school and returned home, I irresistibly entered mother's room in the twilight. The twilight light was shining through the window. Cardboard boxes containing tableware and seasonal home appliances that are no longer in use are piled up on the table. It was completely turned into a storeroom. It's been many years since then. It has passed. I listened to the large number of records there, one by one from the edge of the shelf. Days, days, days. By listening earnestly, I managed to calm my rough feelings. But one day, there was a moment when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore. Upon returning, I entered my mother's room, sat down in front of the keyboard, quickly opened the report sheet, and began to write fiercely with a pen to spit out the incomprehensible feelings in my chest. I was almost suffocating if I didn't spit it out. I turned over the paper and continued to write forever. -Why did mother leave me in the river? Why did she choose to help the child who she didn't even know her name rather than live with me? Why am I alone? Why, why, why – I added paper, supplemented with post-it notes, and wrote long, long lyrics. The scale that springs up is notated long and long. Those that were neither were spit out as pictures. It was a swirl of many kinds. It was like a whirlpool floating on the surface, like a black hole that swallowed everything, and like a hole in the top of my head. The floor of the room was filled with pieces of paper with a mixture of lyrics, pictures and sheet music. But suddenly..... I returned to myself and stopped writing. Right now, I've noticed the worthlessness, meaninglessness, ugliness, and helplessness of the words, pictures, and scales I wrote.

What are you doing? I broke the paper. Everything I've written so far.

I threw it in the trash can without hesitation. The bundle of paper looked like a vomit that I had just spit out. Then I became a high school student.

I finally found myself worthless. The uniform tie was stuffy. I crossed the subsidence bridge while looking down and went to school. I took an exam and passed the exam at a junior and senior high school in the center of the city, and transferred from high school. There, I met my childhood friend Shinobu-kun again.

"Shizu.."

"Shinobu-kun ..."

Now that I was in high school, Shinobu-kun looked tall and shining, all different. On the other hand, I didn't seem to have grown at all since then, and I was irresistibly embarrassed and couldn't even talk. What have I been doing so far? I started a new life going to the city from the mountains, but I couldn't get into studying. Even though I had a hard time taking the exam, I just looked out the window during class. Knowing that this shouldn't be the case. Club activities didn't go anywhere. There were very few such students. On the way home, you can see the students devoting themselves to club activities. The track and field club is jumping the training hurdle in a line in the courtyard. The volleyball club is running on the ground. A percussionist in the brass band with a metronome in his ear is striking a stick in the hallway. The Naginata club sits upright in the martial arts hall with a good posture, and thank you for your cooperation, saying before the practice. The first-year students of the baseball club, who have not yet been numbered, stand side by side and watch as if they are digging into the practice of their seniors. I didn't belong anywhere, so I left school quickly. It was already winter. There is a river called Kagami River that flows from east to west in the center of the city. Since the flow is often gentle, the TV tower and buildings on the opposite bank are reflected like a mirror. When I returned to the station through the road beside it, the girls of the light music club carrying the "Chahahaha" musical instrument case overtook me with a light step while laughing. A cute cat-shaped stuffed animal attached to the school bag is shaking. Attached to my school bag was a cheesy plastic plate of "Gutto Koremaru". "Gutto Koremaru" is an egg-shaped character who can poke his hand against the wall and endure the pain. I have a crack in my head, probably because I endured it too much. Of course, it's not cute.

In a dark and narrow corridor.

I resisted, "I can't do it! Hey!", But I was pulled into the room, saying "OK." The soundproof door slammed behind me. Shinboku "Ah!" There was a flashy room in a karaoke box, and the pink and purple lights were spinning mysteriously. It smells of incense. Only for girls in the class.

I heard that it was a social gathering, but when I saw the frenzy of the girls standing on the sofa and shaking their heads, I thought that I could not get into this tension very much.

"Peggie Sue is cute"

"This is the one that is popular in" U ", isn't it?" On the monitor screen on the wall, the popular Az of "U", Peggy Sue, was seen singing in a black rubber dress. Purple lipstick that shakes silver hair. An eccentric beauty with red eyes. Peggy Sue? "U"? Az? Is it popular? I don't know anything. It's like an event in a different world from me. Then, Hitomi suddenly offered a microphone, "Yes." Sing, and so on. "Huh?" Puzzled. Neither the coat nor the muffler is taken off. But "yes" the microphone was pointed again. Why for a child like me who is at the end of a class?

"Sing together?"

"Hey, sing."

The shadows of the girls press the microphones. What do you mean?

"Are you not going to sing alone?"

"Isn't it a lie that you can't sing?"

I see, so it’s this situation.

Dozens of microphones are forced against my face one after another. "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"

"Sing"

"Hey, sing?"

"Sing"

Those voices sound like a threat.

"You're telling me to sing."

"Sing!"

"Sing!"

Ahh!

Immediately, the microphone popped off and fell to the floor.

The girls dancing on the sofa suddenly saw me. It's calming down as if I was taken aback.

"What happened? Suzu-chan"

The mic and the shadows of the girls disappeared like a phantom.

"No, nothing. I'm sorry. Hey ..."

Without saying anything, I pushed the door of the karaoke box open by force and went out like crawling. Someone might have heard and told everyone that I couldn't sing.

When I got off the bus, powder snow was flying. I almost slipped down the slope from the bus stop. Even in Kochi, it usually snows in the mountains, aside from the city. When I crossed the subsidence bridge, I heard a crackling sound of thin ice. The surface of the concrete bridge is frozen.

Cold. It's not dexterous enough to get used to everyone, and it's not divisible. On the other hand, I’m not strong enough to be alone, not prepared, and have no idea.

I don't do anything selfish. Rumors that you can't sing, that's a lie. I'm just not confident in myself for a while. I want to get along with everyone. Really. I know. Of course I know. So "Ah ... Ah ..."

In the middle of the bridge, I impulsively exhaled my voice.

"Ah ... ah ... ah ah"

As I breathed in, cold air sank into my throat. Still, I sang towards the river. "Ah..”

Did I sing? It didn't match a song. It's just a growl. The bag slipped off my shoulder. Will you forgive me if I sing? Can I get along with everyone if I sing? It doesn't help to sing alone in such a place. It's like a scream of a dead end before being crushed. Still, I sang that song with my mother with a squeezed voice. I was happy back then. It's different now. Powder snow was swirling in the flow of the river. Suddenly, in front of me it became pitch black. Nausea swelled from the back of my stomach, and I held my mouth with both hands.

"Uuuuu!"

I crouched on my knees. However, I couldn't stand the momentum of the backflowing gastric juice. I pushed my body forward and vomited towards the clear stream under the bridge. The vomit that was about to kneel and vomit fell to the surface of the water, creating a number of ripples. I spit out everything in my stomach and fell on the bridge. My hair is messed up and my mouth is smeared with gastric juice and smells. It's already spicy. I want to get rid of everything. Shivering and crying as if groaning. Drops of tears ooze on my cold cheeks and tingle. I wish I were gone.

I could hear the slight sound of powder snow folding and piled up right next to me. A notification came to the smartphone that slipped off my bag. It was a message from Hiro-chan.

<< Look at this, Suzu. It’s so amazing that I’m seriously laughing. >>

There is a link to somewhere.

-------------------

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

#belle #belle movie #ryuu to sobakasu no hime #ryu to sobakasu no hime #ryu #ryuu #studio chizu #mamoru hosoda #竜とそばかすの姫 #belle 2021 #hime

[indecisive-v]

Hope w/ Lyrics - The Pictures

ok so 2 people wanted a full version of the pic made for the video BUT

there isn't actually a version with everyone lit up because there's no point in the song where everyone is singing at once! so i had to make one lol

Full Image

Individual Portraits

BF

Pico

what you'll notice here is that the transparent versions are centered, while the versions with bg have him a little more to the right- this happened because i underestimated how much space the parents would end up taking on the image. but hey- pico is quite literally on bf's side!

Parents

how i made them light up separately was that unlike with pico and bf, i saved their coloring separately from the lining, which was all black anyway so i didn't have to worry about it looking weird when i lowered the brightness.

because of the 10-image limit, i'll post the color images separately and link them here!

as for the bg itself, it's just the normal week 5 bg. you can swipe that from the wiki lol

#friday night funkin #fnf #fridaynightfunkin #fnf soft mod #fnf soft #fnf soft boyfriend #fnf soft pico #fnf soft bf

[nominnation]

Kept Secrets

Paring(s): Johnny x Ten

Genre: Supernatural, Angst, fluffy ending

Synopsis: Ten has a secret. A big secret. A secret that creates black, inky tattoo's all over his arms and causes a giant beast to have tea party's in the middle of the forest. With this secret comes great hurt and anxiety about his boyfriend, Johnny, finding out. Little does Ten know that Johnny has a secret too, and Johnny's secret will lead him to finding out Ten's. If only Ten had listened to Kun.

Warnings: mentions of witchcraft, a demon, supernatural elements

Word Count: 6400

Author's Notes: This is the first story in a several oneshot series called Qian Manor, a supernatural series. This story has been posted on AO3 and on Amino! I hope you enjoy!

Edit created by Sunny on NCT Amino!

The full, midnight moon hung high in the nearly black, cloudless sky. Qian Kun sat on the old creaky porch, back resting in the springy green chairs nursing the red liquid inside the small China teacup, his dear friend, Lee Taeyong, sitting across from him, drinking a honey colored liquid from his own cup. The porch overlooked a beautiful garden, filled with gloriously extravagant flowers that Taeyong took special pride in. It was a wonder the others hadn’t seemed to notice that the flowers never died, even in the winter. Apart from the garden was a yard, the grass cut short, and a laundry line running across from the edge of the porch to a sturdy oak at the edge of the woods. The yard was filled with various items, from broken laundry baskets and empty buckets to curiously placed dog bones and old shoes. Beyond the yard was a vast, dense wood that stretched on for miles and never seemed to touch anyone else's property. That was one of the reasons Kun had purchased this house so many years ago, and, as a slightly familiar howl from a wolf filled the air, followed by two more distinct howls, Kun was even more glad.

“Beautiful night,” Taeyong muttered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake any of the house occupants.

Kun hummed in response, taking another sip from his teacup.

The howls died down and silence settled over the two friends again, until the soft squeaking of the opening back door alerted them both that someone was awake. Their heads turned toward the door just as another friend, Ten, stepped onto the porch, dressed in a long dark cloak, carrying a wicker basket filled with black objects in various shapes. His bare feet crept across the porch, attempting not to wake anyone, seemingly unaware of the two sitting in their green chairs.

“Little late to be going out for a stroll,” Kun spoke softly.

Ten’s body jolted, as if his soul were jumping from his skin in that moment. He turned to face Kun and Taeyong, his dark eyes wide.

“You scared me!” he hissed when he’d regained his senses.

Kun shrugged and took another sip from his teacup.

“Little late to be going out for a stroll,” he repeated.

Ten rolled his eyes and stepped toward the three little steps leading into the grass.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Kun rolled his eyes. As far as excuses went, this was one of Ten’s lamest. He knew exactly where Ten was going, Ten knew he knew too.

“What? Couldn’t sleep without your giant cuddle bear?” Taeyong asked teasingly.

Ten hummed in agreement.

“I hate when he’s not here. But I also don’t want to tell him he can’t go out with his friends for beers,” he said.

Kun sighed at this.

“Just be careful, there are wolves out tonight. Don’t want to get gobbled up,” Taeyong offered.

A slight smile tugged to the corners of Kun’s mouth at the innuendo only he and his friend understood.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ten waved off before stepping off the porch and into the grass.

Kun nor Taeyong said anything else as Ten made his way across the yard before disappearing into the black woods just as another howl ripped through the air.

“This is bound to be interesting,” Taeyong mused after Ten disappeared.

“They’ve got to find out one way or another,” Kun added.

“I still don’t understand how they’ve been dating for over a year and neither has picked up the oddities of the other,” Taeyong said.

It was curious. Ten was obvious, but also weird, so when he carried that basket full of black candles into the forest, no one questioned his motives. Johnny on the other hand… Johnny was obvious. So obvious that Kun and Taeyong weren’t the only ones that knew of the giant man’s secrets. How Ten had missed it was beyond Kun.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out tonight?” Taeyong asked.

Kun brought his teacup back to his lips, polishing off the red liquid.

“I suppose we’ll find out in the morning,” he said.

He parted his lips, his fangs glistening in the moonlight as he ran his tongue over them, licking away the residual blood.

“Afraid a certain someone won’t kiss you if you taste like blood?” Taeyong asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Goodnight Taeyong,” Kun replied with a groan.

He stood up from his chair, taking his teacup with him. He walked inside, placing the cup in the sink before slowly walking up the stairs to crawl in bed with his girlfriend, who’d likely already fallen asleep.

Whatever happened was going to happen. Johnny and Ten had chosen not to be honest with one another from the beginning. Perhaps tonight would mark the end of that. Perhaps tonight, the Wolf and the Witch would finally meet at last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bare feet silently walked through the dark woods, never faltering even as questionable substances squished between his toes. He gave no inclination of being worried about the wolves howling somewhere deeper in the woods or the spooky noises coming from every direction.

He walked until he was in roughly the center of the forest, far away from the large house that he didn’t have to worry about any of his curious housemates sneaking out into the woods to figure out what he was doing.

He dropped the wicker basket he was carrying on the ground and carefully maneuvered around the black, waxy objects inside to pull out a black and white checkered picnic blanket. He unfolded it and fanned it out, letting it swoop delicately onto the mossy earth. He placed the basket in the center to hold it in place and pulled out the objects, eleven black candles, all burned to about the same height. He began placing them around the picnic blanket in a circle, being especially sure to make sure they were almost an equal distance apart. Once that was completed, he took from the basket two small teacups that he’d smuggled from the kitchen and Taeyong’s favorite tea kettle, still warm. He placed the kettle in the center of the blanket and the tea cups on each side, one for himself, and one for his guest. Finally, once all was set up, Ten pulled a lighter from the basket and moved the basket back onto the bare ground. He stripped off his black robe, revealing himself shirtless and in a pair of black boxer shorts he’d stolen from his boyfriend. His skin was finally on full view in the dim light of the moon. Sucken, black tattoos carved all over his chest and torso. Tattoos and symbols in Latin characters that almost screamed evil. The tattoos almost resembled scars from the various jagged edges of skin. They covered almost every inch of the male, chest, back, and down both his legs.

Ten flicked on the lighter, as he moved to light the first candle, his eyes turned black as coal. He hovered the flickering flame over the first candle until the wick caught. Then Ten moved to the next one, patiently lighting all eleven candles before tossing the lighter back into the basket and sitting down on his side of the blanket. He closed his eyes for a small second. He could feel the power of the candles and the looming shadows of the demons and monsters he’d summoned just by existing here. A smile climbed onto his face as he took a deep, almost relaxing breath.

“Azzoch, I summon you,” he breathed, voice level and smooth.

He didn’t speak very loud but, as a gust of cold, sulfery wind splashed across his face, his smile grew wider and his eyes opened.

Now, sitting across from him, giving him an almost irritated look, sat a creature that Ten had come to know very well, his Patron. A demonic creature named Azzoch.

The creature had long legs and cloven feet, a large, stocky body, and thick arms. It’s hands were massive with spindled claws on each finger and it’s head like that of a bull's skull, but larger. A thin, fleshy membrane covered the skull, the nearly transparent dark skin pulled so taunt it appeared as though it would rip any moment. The creatures teeth were gnarly and huge, hidden slightly by bony lips composed of bunched up membrane around the mouth, and the creatures eyes were sunken into the skull, leaving two black holes.

“Seriously?” the creature's voice boomed in a deep, ringing tone that was so obviously not a sound from humanity.

“Tea party picnic,” Ten grinned as he grabbed the kettle in the center of the blanket and poured some of the warmed tea into the creature's cup and then his own.

“Last time it was a ‘sleepover’ and this time a picnic. I wonder what next time will be,” the creature said, voice full of some combination of irritation and agony.

Ten didn’t reply. He simply smirked and picked up his teacup, bringing it to his lips and slurping loudly. The creature groaned at this and reached to pick up its tea cup, however, a small teacup versus giant hands with spindle claws was not as simple as it might sound. He grunted in frustration as he attempted to pick up the cup and missing until finally, one of his claws hooked the tiny handle and he was able to lift up the cup.

“You should show me more respect. I’m your patron after all,” the creature spoke, bringing the cup to his lips and tipping its contents into its mouth.

“I’m also your only disciple. Therefore, I have the right to respect you as much or as little as I wish,” Ten chirped.

The creature groaned again. Who knew that when Ten had signed his soul over to the devil that his patron demon would be the one regretting the deal.

“Regretting living with the meatbags you call housemates yet?” the creature asked, changing the subject.

Ten shot it a playful glare.

“My boyfriend is one of those ‘meatbags’ thank you very much.”

“A meatbag that doesn’t know what you are?”

Ten shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m cherishing him as much as I can before he runs for the hills.”

The creature let out a little chuckle.

“You knew what you were getting into when you made the deal.”

Ten glared again at the creature, but this time it wasn’t friendly.

“Not fully! I didn’t know at the time that I’d fall in love and have to hide it from the person I loved!” he argued.

“No one says you have to hide it,” the creature pointed out.

“Johnny wouldn’t exactly understand if I just suddenly came out and said ‘Hey! I’m a demonic witch! I sold my soul to the devil and now I have a giant ox-like creature whom I have to meet with once a month!’” Ten complained.

Another wolf howl caught Ten’s attention for a split second before he turned back to the creature.

He sighed. He knew he shouldn’t be complaining. He’d chosen this life for himself. Now there was no going back.

The sound of rustling leaves from somewhere behind him caught his attention, but he didn’t turn around. Whatever was out there couldn’t hurt either of them if it tried.

“Whatever Ten, but if you lose him because you’re choosing not to be honest, don’t blame me. That’s on you.”

Ten opened his mouth to retort when a sudden growling and snarling from some animal appeared behind him. Slowly, he turned around, only to come face to face with a large brown wolf, larger than any wolf he’d ever seen before. It had long, sharp teeth bared and growling, except, the odd thing was, it’s eyes weren’t fixated on Ten, but on Azzoch.

“What the-” Ten murmured.

“That thing looks like it wants to eat me alive! Why the hell is it not trying to rip you apart?!” the creature spoke.

It would have been comical if Ten hadn’t been wondering the same thing.

The wolf took a few steps forward, it’s massive feet moving around Ten, eyes still locked on Azzoch, growling getting louder now. Ten watched, frozen as this wolf bypassed him. The wolf had to know that Ten would be the easier choice to kill. Virtually impossible, but still easier than the demonic creature. So why was the wolf so fixated on said creature. It was almost like… like it was protecting Ten… But that was so weird.

Ten had been so fixated on this wolf that he hadn’t noticed several other wolves surrounding them until the first wolves attention suddenly snapped to something on the other side of Ten. Rapidly, Ten moved his head just in time to watch another large wolf, although this one solid white, creeping towards Ten, it’s ember eyes full of hunger. It got closer and looked as though it were about ready to pounce. Ten steadied his hand, ready to knock this wolf back when it lunged for him, but the giant brown wolf beat him. It jumped over Ten to pounce on the white wolf, mouth wide open to rip the wolf’s throat. Ten let out a little yelp as the brown wolf’s paws hit the white wolf, knocking the wolf to the ground, but the fight wasn’t won. The white wolf fought its way up and snapped at the brown wolf’s throat. Loud, angry growls filled the air. Growls that, for some reason, made Ten’s heartbeat rise in his chest. He’d seen fights like this before, but now, as he watched the white wolf rip fur from the brown wolf’s pelt, he wanted to jump onto the brown wolf and save it. But right as he was about to do just that, another large wolf, this one black, jumped in.

Ten was about to jump up, unsure if this wolf was there to help the white wolf or the brown wolf, but as the black wolf snapped hard at the white wolf’s throat, he relaxed slightly. He still didn’t quite understand what was going on, but the brown wolf had help.

It was strange how attached he’d become to the brown wolf…

As the three wolves fought, Ten turned back to look at Azzoch, the demonic creature who had already vanished. Ten looked around at the circle of candles, three of which were blown out. He let out a breath and turned around to blow out the candles behind him when he came face to face with a smaller, reddish brown wolf who was just staring at him. The eyes of the wolf also very familiar, although he couldn’t figure out where he’d seen them.

With the fight going on in the background, Ten waited for the wolf to pounce on him, however, the wolf lowered its head and slowly walked closer to Ten, but not in a hostile or aggressive way. It was almost acting as though it wanted Ten to pet him.

Hesitantly, Ten brought a hand down on the soft fur of the wolf, earning himself a snort from the wolf that soon somehow made its way onto Ten’s lap.

Why was this wolf so familiar? Why were all the wolves, save for the white one, so familiar?

As Ten’s fingers weaved through the reddish-brown wolf’s fur, he glanced over to the fight going on just in time for the white wolf to finally give up and run off as a third wolf, this one a honey brown, appeared.

The brown wolf snarled at the black wolf that had come to it’s aid, the black wolf nodding and running off to chase after the white wolf. Ten stared at the exchange. Did that wolf just… nod…?

The brown wolf turned back around to face Ten, a growl rising from its lips, but not in a way that scared Ten. He knew, for some reason, that the wolf wouldn’t hurt him.

The reddish brown wolf gave Ten a lick to the face before getting off his lap just in time for a grotesquely loud popping to fill Ten’s ears. His eyes locked back on the brown wolf in astonishment as the wolf’s bones began to reshape and the fur reseeding into skin before a tall, naked man stood in front of the group.

Ten’s heart dropped as he stared open-mouthed at the man standing before him. In that moment, he realized two things. One, these wolves were not ordinary. They were indeed werewolves. And two, the brown wolf that had been trying to protect him, was his beloved boyfriend. Johnny.

“So do you want to explain to me who the hell that was and what is all over your body?” Johnny asked, voice flared with anger.

Ten shuddered lightly. It wasn’t a common occurrence for Johnny to get angry, but when he did, it always sent a spark through Ten’s core. However, now was not the time for that.

“I think you have explaining to do too, Johnny Suh!” Ten fired back.

His veins were on fire. Partly from rage, partly from the tone of Johnny’s voice, but he chose to focus on the rage and anger. How could Johnny have kept this secret from him?!

At Ten’s tone, Johnny took a long step forward and moved so that he was barely a foot away from Ten, towering over him.

“Who was that,” Johnny growled.

Normally, Ten would feel an exhilarating sense of intimidation that would result in Ten pressed up against a wall. But now, it only made him angrier because he knew exactly what Johnny was trying to do.

He placed his hands on Johnny’s chest and, using a force of strength that wasn’t entirely his own, he shoved the male back, hard. So hard, in fact, that his rear-end slammed into the ground, eliciting a surprised grunt from Johnny and a sinister growl in Ten’s direction from the honey colored wolf.

Johnny sat up and placed a hand on the wolf’s flank lightly.

“It’s OK, Yukhei.”

Ten’s eyes widened.

“Yukhei?!” he exclaimed.

Johnny let out another grunt as if to confirm Ten’s question before getting up, not bothering to dust off his backside.

“What are you?” he asked. His voice was far from kind, and it almost made Ten want to wrap his arms around the taller male and beg for forgiveness.

But he didn’t, whether it was from his own stubbornness or own sense of betrayal.

“What if I don’t want to tell you?! You freaking liar!” Ten shrieked back.

He knew he was as much in the wrong as Johnny was. They’d both lied and kept secrets, but that didn’t appease Ten in any way.

“You’re calling me a liar?! I wasn’t the one having tea with some freaking demonic creature surrounded by candles and covered in black tattoos I sure as hell have never seen!”

Ten’s fingers balled into a fist and his eyes began to glow red.

“Maybe I was having a meeting with my freaking patron! But here you are growling like a freaking crazy creature at it and now turning from a wolf into a human! You didn’t tell me you’re a freaking werewolf!” Ten shouted back, no longer bothering to be quiet.

The ground beneath his feet began to quake, an effect on his overwhelming surge of rage. The shadows of the woods began to move, fangs and claws tearing themselves from the trees and ground, causing the reddish brown wolf to let out a yelp and run to stand behind Johnny with its tail between its legs. Johnny shot a glare at Ten before kneeling down to gently pat the wolf.

“It’s alright, YangYang,” he soothed softly.

The quaking stopped and Ten’s arms fell lax by his sides. He knew that the wolf had looked familiar. His little brother. He’d terrified his little brother. The one that had come to comfort him.

“YangYang, I’m-” Ten began but he was cut off by a sharp glare from Johnny.

His shoulders slumped. He should have told Johnny. Maybe if he had come clean, Johnny would have too.

“Look, Johnny-” Ten began again, but this time he was cut off by a loud, ringing howl.

Johnny turned to look in the direction of the howl along with Lucas and YangYang.

“Jaehyun’s found the wolf,” Johnny said, although Ten knew he wasn’t talking to him.

With that, Lucas moved away from Johnny and dashed off into the trees, YangYang hot on his trail. Johnny didn’t even spare Ten a glance before he was quickly growing fur and four wolvish legs. He dashed off into the woods and, it was at that exact moment that Ten’s heart dropped, because, he knew he'd royally screwed up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ten’s eyes opened the next morning, he knew what had happened the night before. He remembered the events of the evening, but that didn’t prepare him to wake up alone in his large King bed, Johnny’s side cold and still made up.

Ten sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe Johnny was still out with the boys… well, existing in some wolf’s den to last out the full moon.

He still wasn’t accustomed to thinking about Johnny as a wolf…

There was a knock at the door and the person didn’t wait for Ten to invite them in before opening his door.

“I brought you breakfast,” Taeyong’s voice greeted.

Ten sighed. Taeyong. One of the only people that knew Ten’s secret.

“You didn’t have to,” Ten muttered.

He made no move to sit up to greet Taeyong or react appropriately to his guest. All he could be bothered to do was roll over in bed to face the male.

“You got in really late last night. I figured you’d be tired… And I thought you could use a friend,” Taeyong spoke.

He carried a tray over to Ten’s bedside table and placed it down. From where Ten lay, he could see the still steaming porridge in a fancy bowl, a smaller bowl of fresh fruit beside it. Ten made a face. Taeyong never seemed to get that this was Ten’s least favorite breakfast. But he knew the male made the easiest meals. He was still learning, after all.

“So you heard?” Ten mumbled.

He closed his eyes and sank deeper against his pillow with a groan.

“YangYang told us this morning,” Taeyong answered.

He felt around on the bed for Ten’s legs and, when he found them, he carefully pushed them to the side and moved to sit down on the bed, his hand coming to settle on Ten’s hip, stroking softly.

“He’s a wolf,” Ten muttered.

“Yes,” Taeyong answered.

“And you knew…”

“Yes,” Taeyong spoke again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Taeyong let out a sigh and moved his hand in soothing circles over Ten’s hip.

“It wasn’t our place. Kun and I know everything that goes on in this house. We knew Johnny was a wolf. Actually, there’s not many people who don’t know. He doesn’t try to hide it. How you didn’t know is still a mystery to me.”

Ten groaned in slight annoyance.

“We also knew what you were. We didn’t think it was our place to tell Johnny. We just kind of assumed when you two started getting serious that you’d talk it out together. But when you didn’t…” Taeyong trailed off.

Ten let out a sigh and pulled the blankets over his head, hiding away in the shadows of his duvets.

“Why didn’t you, Ten?” Taeyong asked.

Ten sighed again but didn’t pull the duvet back.

“Because I love him,” he said.

He felt Taeyong shift.

“Shouldn’t that mean you tell him everything?”

Ten shook his head although he knew Taeyong couldn’t see him.

“I’m a freak Yong. I made that stupid deal when I was young and wanted power to get my mom away from that monster and my sister away from the men who hurt her. But it backfired. They had nothing to do with me because of my choice and I’ve had to live with that! Now they’re both gone. Everyone I love leaves me then dies! I couldn’t…”

Tears peaked to Ten’s eyes and before he could hold them back, they were rolling down his cheeks, and with them, came the dam crashing down. His shoulders began to shake and quiver, tears openly spewing from his eyes, turning him into a blubbering mess. He curled in on himself slightly, hugging his knees to his chest.

As he sobbed, the bed moved and, for a moment, he thought Taeyong was leaving him to cry, but when the other side of the blanket lifted up and Taeyong’s body was sliding in beside Ten’s, Ten felt himself relax slightly. Taeyong’s small but strong arms wrapped around Ten’s middle, hugging him tightly as if he were trying to hold Ten together. He placed his face against Ten’s neck and whispered soft words as his fingers drew small miscellaneous shapes against Ten’s clothed body.

When Ten had calmed down enough to speak again, he took a deep breath and leaned closer to Taeyong, seeking more warmth and comfort.

“I couldn’t lose him… He is everything… He means everything… I couldn’t let him be one more person to leave me because I made a horrible choice I can’t take back,” Ten whispered hoarsely.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted so badly to be angry at Johnny, but looking back, Johnny really had been very obvious. From his love of Ten’s shoes to chasing Kun around the whole house when Kun refused to give him the last bloody steak. He hadn’t tried to hide it. Sure, he hadn’t come right out and said he was a werewolf, but he still hadn’t tried to hide it like Ten had. Ten never got intimate with Johnny completely bare. He had enough strength and concentration to hide the markings on his legs but not the rest of his body. He hid his candles in the closet and always snuck out when he was meeting with Azzoch. He had driven Johnny away when he was trying so hard not to drive him away.

With a sniffle, Ten wiped his eyes and curled up against the pillow. Taeyong hugged him tighter until Ten’s door opening caught both of their attention. Ten uncovered his head, his bloodshot and tearstained eyes glinting with hope that Johnny was here to forgive him. However, when YangYang’s head peered around the corner, the hope dropped slightly. Still, Ten knew he had some making up and explaining to do with YangYang too. So, instead of disappearing back under the blankets like he wanted and like he would have after seeing the male, he lifted the blanket up and opened his arms.

Part of Ten expected YangYang to scoff and walk away, but when YangYang immediately bolted through the door and dived onto Ten’s bed, practically headbutting himself into Ten’s chest, Ten’s arms wrapped around the male in surprise and comfort.

“I’m sorry for scaring you last night,” he murmured against the youngers neck.

YangYang’s arms locked themselves around Ten’s waist, squeezing with a force that Ten knew was less than human. Ten just rubbed down the males back soothingly.

“Why didn’t you tell me…” YangYang muttered and, Ten was sure he felt something wet drop onto his neck.

He pulled YangYang’s body tighter.

“I was afraid you’d all leave me when you learned what I was,” he muttered honestly.

YangYang didn’t respond again, choosing instead to burrow his face in Ten’s neck. Ten stroked his hands up and down YangYang’s back when he felt the bed shift again and Taeyong’s arms recoiled from around him.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Taeyong whispered softly, almost as though he were afraid to ruin a conversation by talking too loudly.

Ten nodded and pulled YangYang a little tighter as Taeyong quietly made his way from the room, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.

“You could have trusted me,” YangYang muttered.

Ten sighed softly and nuzzled against the younger's face. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, when YangYang was sad or upset, he’d hide it away until night fell when he’d crawl into Ten’s or Kun’s bed to sleep. Usually Ten’s bed after Kun had gotten married and began sharing his bed with a woman. Ten would hold and comfort him, let the younger bask in the warmth and comfort before they would talk about what was bothering him. Then, YangYang was back to his usual self, being an annoying little shit with his boyfriend. This was out of character. Way out of character. And if this was how YangYang was feeling, he hated to know how his big fluffy teddy bear that would only cry at night in Ten’s arms felt.

“I do trust you, Yangie, but I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me anymore,” he said.

YangYang mumbled something against him.

“Do you know what I am?” he asked.

YangYang paused before shaking his head.

“I’m a demonic witch. I sold my soul to the devil and took on a demonic beast as my patron.”

YangYang didn’t even react and, at first, Ten wasn’t sure the younger had heard him.

“I’m a werewolf. So is Johnny. So is Lucas and Jaehyun. Kun is a freaking vampire and Donghyuck is an Imp. Do you think I give a damn that you’re a demonic witch? Do you really think Johnny does?”

Ten sat, shocked for a moment. How had he been so blind he, one, didn’t know that all these people YangYang listed off were also creatures, but more than that, he had let his hurt over his family dictate his honesty with Johnny.

Ten shifted around in the bed, jumping up slightly, startling YangYang.

“I have to apologize!” he wailed.

“You’ll have to wait. The alpha’s went out to find the nearby pack after one of their newly turned tried to kill you last night,” YangYang said, snuggling into Ten’s pillow.

“Alphas?” Ten asked.

“Johnny and Jaehyun,” YangYang answered.

“They went to what?”

YangYang sighed and let out a low groan.

“The wolf that tried to kill you last night was a newly turned alpha that Jaehyun wounded pretty badly when he caught him. They went to talk to the pack alpha. If you had been an ordinary person, they’d have no right, but you were covered in Johnny’s scent and clearly the alpha’s mate. Attempting to kill an alpha’s mate is punishable by death,” YangYang answered lazily as if it was the most common thing in the world to talk about.

Ten stared at the male dumbfounded, the cogs in his brain turning to fast he was surprised steam wasn’t floating from his ears as his brain tried to comprehend what YangYang was saying.

“Alpha’s mate?”

“That’s seriously what you’re most worried about?”

Ten shot YangYang an unamused glare that resulted in YangYang groaning to himself.

“Jaehyun and Johnny are both alpha’s, but Johnny is the head alpha. When Jaehyun was turned, they fought, Johnny won-”

“But that doesn’t answer my question!” Ten interrupted.

“Would you let me finish!” YangYang snapped, but the cheeky grin on his face made Ten slap him lightly.

“Now, as I was saying,” YangYang continued, “Johnny defeated Jaehyun making him the leader of our pack. You are his mate, something that is clear to anyone that gets close enough to sniff you-”

“I don’t stink! I think someone would say something if I smelled like Johnny’s sweaty workout clothes!” Ten objected.

YangYang fixed him with a pointed stare.

“If you’re going to keep interrupting me, I’m not going to explain,” he threatened.

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

YangYang grinned at the apology while Ten rolled his eyes.

“Anyone who can smell scents on the molecular level can tell he scents you-”

Ten opened his mouth to speak but YangYang slapped a hand over his mouth.

“This means when you two cuddle or hug, he rubs his face against your neck and top of your head. Anyone who has a stronger sense of smell can smell his scent. His natural scent is a deep pine scent. Anyone who smells it knows that you are scent marked. Any werewolf or vampires can smell it on you,” YangYang explained. “Now you may ask questions,” he said, removing his hand from Ten’s mouth.

Ten stared at the male in shock, mouth agape.

“So… that’s why Johnny attacked that wolf? Because he’s marked me?” Ten asked.

“It goes deeper than that. You’re his mate,” YangYang answered.

“So he loves me?”

YangYang groaned.

“It’s deeper than that!”

“Then explain it! What do you mean I’m his mate?!” Ten snapped.

“He means I’m attracted to you in a deeper way than just physically. My heart yearns for you. It has since I met you. Yes, I fell for you slowly, but a part of me always knew we would be together. A mate, to a wolf, is someone the wolf loves, the person the wolf is supposed to be with. Usually, it’s a love of another wolf, often an omega for an alpha so the omega can bare the alpha’s children, but there are some cases in which the person the wolf is mated with that is not a wolf.”

Ten didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed that his door opening or the tall figure standing in the doorway.

YangYang rolled off the side of Ten’s bed and, just as soon as his feet hit the floor, he was moving past Johnny, giving the male a side hug on the way out. Ten watched as the male left, a sudden anxiety settling in his stomach, an anxiety that only grew as Johnny closed the door.

Once the door was closed, Johnny’s lanky frame stood at the door for a moment too long before slowly moving closer to Ten’s bed. It felt like an eternity before his weight fell on the mattress as Johnny sat beside him.

“I think we need to talk,” Johnny spoke.

His voice was soft but deep and full of emotion that made Ten flinch.

“I think we do…” he muttered, dread filling his stomach as Johnny opened his mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny asked.

Ten let out a sigh before explaining his story. The truth about his past. The reason he is the way he is. His family’s reaction. Everything. And Johnny listened attentively, nodding along as Ten spoke, lips drawn into a line. And when Ten was finished, he had a tear or two dropping from his eyes, creating a salty trail down his cheek. He made no move to wipe them. Instead, Johnny moved off the bed and a tear fell faster. Maybe Johnny was leaving. Maybe he didn’t care for Ten’s reason. Maybe he didn’t care.

Before Ten could make himself even more upset than he already was, Johnny knelt onto the floor between Ten’s slightly opened legs and brought his large hands up to cup Ten’s cheeks. He brushed away the tears gently before leaning closer and pressing a kiss against the males forehead.

“I should have outright told you what I was too, but I didn’t. We were both wrong to hide it,” he spoke, his face still so close to Ten’s that Ten could feel his warm breath against his lips.

Ten nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid he’d break down and begin crying harder if he spoke.

“You are still my mate. Still my only one. And I’m not going to break that tie because of something as trivial as this. But please, you have to be honest with me. We have to be honest with each other.”

Again Ten nodded, but a few more tears spilled from his eyes. Johnny swiped them away gently, giving him a soft smile.

“I love you,” Johnny whispered.

Ten couldn’t hold himself together any longer. He collapsed into Johnny’s arms, Johnny’s strong embrace immediately caging him against his chest.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

Johnny nodded and pulled Ten tighter into his embrace, crushing him against his chest.

“And I wanna learn all about you,” Johnny’s voice whispered in his ear, making Ten shiver against him.

“I want to learn about you too,” he replied, voice coming out weak.

“Why don’t we start right now,” Johnny asked, voice dripping even lower, low enough that Ten’s body trembled and he found himself sliding further back onto the bed.

Johnny pulled his shirt over his head and crawled over the smaller male, giving him a dangerous smirk as he hovered over him, leaning down to kiss him with force.

“Let me show you everything about being an alpha,” he growled low.

Ten nodded pliantly, taking his bottom lips between his teeth before leaning up to press a kiss to Ten’s lips hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the room, YangYang and Donghyuck sat, two shot glasses pressed against the door and wall.

“Gross!” Donghyuck hissed, pretending to barf on the floor.

YangYang didn’t say anything, but the way his face was drawn into one of utter shock, horror, and disgust was enough to read his thoughts, yet somehow, he nor the boy beside him could seem to tear themselves away from the door.

“What are you two doing?” came the surprised but stern voice of a certain vampire who’d stumbled upon them.

“Kun-ge! Ten-ge and Johnny-ge are doing the dirty!” YangYang hissed quietly.

Kun stared at him dumbfounded by the sudden information.

“OH MY GOD!” Donghyuck suddenly shrieked in horror.

Kun was seconds from rushing to his side as YangYang listened closely to the glass to discern what had gotten a yelp from Donghyuck.

“He’s going to-” Kun slapped a hand over Donghyuck’s mouth before the sun kissed boy could speak another word.

“That’s enough, if you want a show, go rent a movie or borrow one of Yuta’s adult films,” Kun hissed warningly as he took the shot glass from Donghyuck and held his hand out for YangYang’s.

The younger boy stared at Kun before rolling his eyes and passing him the glass before getting off the floor and following Donghyuck in the direction of Yuta’s room.

Kun groaned to himself and stared at the door shaking his head. He had half a mind to breakup the love scene from inside until the rest of the house was asleep to avoid any youngsters hearing the noise and getting any ideas, but as loud mewls from Ten and howls from Johnny echoed from the room, Kun thought better of it. There was no way he’d want to see anything even closely akin to that.

Besides, at least they weren’t lying to each other anymore. At least they both knew the truth and loved one another for it.

#nct oneshot #johnten #supernatural #werewolf #witches #johnny suh #ten wayv #fanfiction #vampires #bxblove #series #qian manor series

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 30

Ignoring an Injury

Ao3

For @fidothefinch, I really hope you don't mind how fluffy this one got.... This one gave me a lot of feelings about Dick and Damian.

Summary: Damian get's injured on patrol, and out of fear of being sent away, he says nothing.

-o-o-o-o-

The Batmobile came screeching to a halt inside the cave, and Damian did not waste a single second jumping out of the car and stalking to the changing rooms; his cape carefully placed over his shoulders and his hood pulled up to make it seem that he’s as grumpy as he looks.

He’s not grumpy. Not right now. But Grayson doesn’t need to know that. Damian just needs him to believe it for the moment.

“Damian, you did good out there,” Grayson calls, but Damian ignores him, biting the inside of his mouth. He’s sure if he turns around, he’ll see Grayson wearing a hurt face beneath his pulled down Batman cowl. Damian doesn’t care.

He shoves himself past the butler who’s holding two steaming cups of calming tea, something he normally looks forward to at the end of a patrol, but right now must be ignored. The second he vanishes into the changing rooms, he releases a shaky breath and locks the door behind him. He waits until Grayson begins to whisper worries to the butler, things about how he thought Damian was in a good mood tonight and sometimes he’s not sure how to read Damian...

Which is fine. Damian doesn’t be read tonight.

It makes it easier to shrug off his cape and look at his side, where his red tunic is stained a darker shade of the same color. He brings his fingers to his side and pokes his fingers through the hole in the fabric, wincing at how the stab wound in his stomach smarts angrily and dribbles a few streams of blood down towards his pelvis.

He winces and brings his hands away, wiping his gloves off on his tunic. Stupid. Pathetic. Reckless. Rash. He’s normally better than this. The thought that this wound was delivered by a druggie made his toes curl in shame. He was only trying to take the drugs away. He didn’t see the small switch blade until it was in his stomach.

It’s a good thing it hasn’t hit anything important. Damian can tell.

He’s learned to be able to tell from a young age.

He exhales as quietly as he can through his nose before looking around the changing room for his clothes. Thankfully, the change of clothes are all loose fitting and warm. Sweats, a long sleeved shirt, and a hoodie that he slips over his head with minimal breaks in between to force himself to ignore the pain in his side. 

He takes a deep breath, fixes his clothes, then stuffs his Robin tunic under his baggy sweater. 

It presses against his wound, which hurts, but it will be hidden so he can retreat upstairs with minimal questions. .

With a final, encouraging inhale, Damain exits the changing booth and makes a bee-line towards the manor stairs. Grayson seems to be inside his own changing room, and the Butler is simply standing by the computer giving Damian his normal narrowed eyes.

He’s not stopped leaving the cave, and he’s not stopped in his fast walk through the manor. He keeps his breaths even and he forces himself to ignore the stretching of his abdomin as he rushes upstairs. Eventually, he finds himself in his room, biting his lips to push through the pain. He locks his door behind him then kneels down by his bead to pull loose a single floorboard. He pulls out a small first aid kit filled with things he’s slowly stolen from the medical room in the cave over the few months he’s been here and then settles down on the floor. He slips off the hoodie and the shirt before digging through the first aid kit, bringing out a curved needle already attached to a long length of thread.

His stitches are perfect. When he wraps bandages around his belly, they’re perfect as well. It doesn’t take long at all before he’s stuffing the kit back under his bed and wiping specks of blood from the floor. As he’s forcing himself to breathe through slipping on his shirt, he hears a pair of footsteps approach outside his door.

Ignoring how badly his stomach aches, he runs to the door, unlocks it, then jumps into his bed. The door opens when he settles with the comforter over his head, his back towards the door and his face turned at the wall.

He recognizes Grayson’s breathing. Damian bites his lip raw until he hears a sigh and the door closes once again.

Damian then immediately goes boneless under his bed covers. With a single hand placed against his side, Damian closes his eyes, and meditates until he forces his aching body to fall asleep.

-o-o-o-o-

Ignoring the stab wound in his side for the entirety of the next day is a difficult feat to do. Luckily, Damian manages. It’s a weekend day, and Grayson has unavoidable meetings with Lucius Fox and the rest of the Wayne Enterprises board. So really, as long as Damian stays out of the way of the butler and doesn’t make any sudden movements, Damian will be fine. He’s even managed to sneak into the medicine cabinet and take some painkillers without anyone catching him.

Really, the closest he got to anyone finding out was just in the morning when Grayson wrapped him in a goodbye hug. Damian barely contained his flinch but redirected it into simply struggling out of the embrace. Grayson gave him a concerned look, but didn’t ask, perhaps just chalking it up Damian simply not wanting to be touched today. 

Not that Damian ever wants to be touched... especially if that touching is as useless as a hug.

By the time the sun is beginning to set and Grayson returns home haggard and wearing deep, black bags under his eyes, Damian has almost hyped himself up enough to not dread patrol.

It takes all of his strength to hide his relief when Grayson mentions being too tired to patrol tonight. Damian pretends to argue, and then retires to bed.

He sags against his bedroom door when it clicks behind him. His stomach still hurts badly, but at least he will not be forced to jump around and pretend everything is normal tonight, so he won't reopen his stitches. Besides… he hasn’t had time to clean and fix his tunic yet. He takes a few deep breaths, then wobbles over to his bed to once again pull out the first aid kit. He brings it to the bathroom his bedroom is connected to and then stands in the mirror as he slowly works his shirt up and off his sore body. His bandages... do not look good. There’s a weird stain where his wound is.

Apprehension settles in his gut as he slowly begins to unwind the bandages.

Soon enough, he’s staring in the mirror at his wound. The stitches look irritated, and his skin looks red. Near the sewed up seam of his wound, there’s little beads of almost transparent yellow liquid. 

Infection. How... how has that happened? He’s been careful today...

He looks at the festering stab wound and bites his lip, trying to remember what to do if you ever get an infected wound such as this.

It would be helpful if he could sneak down to the cave and grab some of that ointment the butler likes to use... except Grayson has an alarm on the grandfather clock, and the second Damian goes down there without permission Grayson will know. 

He can’t let Grayson know... Damian isn’t weak. He can’t let Grayson see his foolish mistake of an injury. 

He turns on the tap and wets his fingers, he then runs the water over the wound until he’s about to blink out tears from the pain. He pats the wound dry with a clean towel, then takes a deep breath and wraps his wound once again before he slips the shirt back over his head with close to laborious effort. Once he exits the bathroom and he’s close to crawling into bed, there's a soft knocking on his bedroom door. He sighs, wipes his cheeks to make sure no tears have fallen, then straightens his posture.

He opens the door to find Grayson standing sheepishly on the other side. 

“What is it?” Damian inquires with disinterest. Perhaps if he acts not in the mood for conversation, Grayson will leave sooner. 

Grayson smiles, and Damian glares. “Hey, kiddo,” Grayson greets, his voice deeper than what it normally is. He’s exhausted, Damian can tell. Not that Damian cares... “Alfred was just telling me that he was cleaning the uniforms, and your tunic’s missing. Any idea where it could have gone?”

Damian makes sure to keep his face straight. “Perhaps the servant just misplaced it.”

Grayson’s eyebrows lower slightly. “Dames...”

“I’m tired, Grayson. I do not know where the butler has misplaced my tunic, but I expect it to be found soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to retire to bed.”

Grayson opens his mouth to perhaps argue, but Damian doesn’t allow him to. He shuts the door, locks it, takes a deep breath and then stumbles like a dead man to his bed. He can almost imagine Grayson standing outside his door, a worried frown on his young face, fist lifted to knock on the barrier separating them.

However, he can also imagine Grayson sighing and shaking his head; lowering his fist and walking away.

Damian doesn’t get much sleep that night. In fact, by the time he finally falls into something that can be mistaken as sleep, the last set of numbers he remembers being illuminated on his phone’s screen is 03:46. When he wakes up, it reads 05:23, and Damian feels like he’s tussled with the embodiment of death itself while he was in the laughable excuse of slumber.

His body is hot. Too hot. His brain is woozy and when he just barely manages to stumble to the bathroom, he finds his wound looking more awful than ever. He frowns, tries to wipe more water on it, but stops when the pain becomes too great. He just barely manages to rewrap the wound and crawl back into his bed.

It’s Sunday. Perhaps Grayson and the butler will leave him alone today and not notice.

A few hours pass, and his door ultimately has a fist politely knocking for entrance. Damain thinks that if he ignores it and pretends to be asleep, the intruder will just go away. Unfortunately, his hopes are squandered when the door opens anyway, and Grayson’s soft voice calls his name.

“Damian? You up?”

Damian bites his lip, glad that he’s at least facing the wall again.

He listens to the footsteps that trek across his floor, and he resists a flinch when a hand falls on his shoulder. 

“Dami, hey,” Grayson coos, like a worried hen. Damian scowls then opens his eyes before Grayson can begin shaking him. 

“What is it?” He demands, turning to glare at Grayson.

Grayson’s eyes widen, and Damian realizes his mistake too late. 

“Woah, kid,” Grayson breathes, and Damian can’t help but flinch when Grayson wraps his hand around Damian’s forehead.

There’s a scowl on Grayson’s face when he feels how warm his temperature must be. So, instead of dealing with Grayson’s worry, he smacks his hand away and shifts so his back is towards him. His entire stomach protests at the movement, but he has hope that he can get out of this without Grayson realizing anything. 

“Tt, I’m fine.”

“Oh no you’re not,” Grayson argues, and Damian immediately knows his hopes and plans are out the window. “You obviously have a fever... Are you feeling sick? Throw up? Diarrhea?”

Damian frowns. Then sighs. He might as well just rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “My tunic is under the bed,” he mumbles.

He listens as Grayson stills, then bends down to search under the bed. By the time Grayson comes back up, Damian is biting his lip so hard he’s afraid he might chew through the flesh. 

He can tell the exact moment Grayson finds the bloody hole in his uniform. He gasps harshly and... fearfully. Next thing Damian knows, he’s weakly struggling as Grayson rips off the comforter and tugs Damian up so he’s sitting. Fingers lift up his shirt and ghost over the bandages. 

“‘m sorry,” Damian mumbles as Grayson looks up at him with an intense worry in his eyes. It’s so odd that that look is directed at Damian. No one has ever looked at him like that before. No one ever cares about Damian that much. He swallows, feeling guilty and scared. “I think it’s infected... please don’t send me away...”

And that worry turns into shock. “Send you away? Why would you think I’d send you away?”

Damian goes to bite his lip again, but a hand curls gently under his chin and coaxes Damian to look Grayson in the eyes. 

Damian can feel those traitorous tears forming again. He takes a deep breath. “Because I’m weak. I got hit... Robin shouldn’t be weak... you shouldn’t have to worry about me getting hurt-“

And then the world blurs as Grayson tugs Damian forward into a tight embrace. It hurts Damian’s stomach. Badly. But he wraps his arms around Grayson before he can even think about how pathetic that is. Grayson’s arms are just so warm, and strong, and safe, that he can’t help it. He can’t help but feel at home in them.

Damian never quite feels at home anywhere else. 

“You don’t have to be strong, Dami,” Grayson whispers. “You can tell me when you’re hurt or scared or just feeling a little unwell. I will never send you away. Never.”

Damian chews the inside of his cheek before he nods his head. He believes Grayson. Grayson has never lied to him before. “Are you mad?”

“Just worried,” Grayson assures, “which is why I’m taking you to Leslie, and you’re gonna promise to never hide an injury from me again.”

“... okay.” 

“Good.” Grayson tightens his embrace and Damian lets out a shaky sigh. A single tear leaves his eye, but he wipes it away in Grayson’s shirt. 

Next thing Damian knows, he’s leaving Leslie Thompkins’ medical clinic already feeling a little better. Grayson has a paper in his hands for a prescription of antibiotics, and a plan to head to the nearest Walgreens and then the nearest restaurant that makes acceptable ice cream shakes.

By the time they head back to the manor, Damian is practically asleep on his feet. But Grayson doesn’t let him retreat to his bed just yet. Instead, he scoops Damian up into his arms and carries him to the living room where he turns on the TV and inserts a colorful looking disk that must have some sort of sort of childish Disney or Pixar film loaded onto it.

Once Grayson grabs a blanket and collapses into the sofa, Damian knows he will be helpless but to stay here in Grayson’s arms to suffer a movie beneath his level.

“This... is the story of how I died...” the movie begins, the animated screen zooming in slowly on a tree with a wanted poster on it. 

Damian sighs, then allows himself to curl into Grayson’s side. The movie begins, and admittedly it isn’t awful even if the singing is cheesy. Grayson’s arms squeeze him gently in a one armed hug, and Damian surrenders himself to a night of cuddles and Disney’s Tangled. 

He doesn’t know why he was worried. 

He falls asleep in Grayson’s arms, feeling safer and more wanted than ever

#damian wayne #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dc #dc comics #batman comics #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober 2020 #no.30 #ignoring an injury #fluff disguised as whump #stab wounds #injury tw #stitches tw #snuggles #cuddles #hugging #dick being damis dad oop #insecurity

[parkersjiggle]

I have a starker prompt! Person A is in love with Person B. Person A thinks it's hopeless cause they're just friends. Person A doesn't realize that Person B returns his feelings. People around them refer to Person B as his boyfriend and he thinks they're just teasing him until one day he realizes that everyone thinks they're actually in a relationship. Including Person B. This whole time Person B just thought they were taking things slow. Up to you which is Peter and which is Tony.

Hi! Thanks for the prompt! It’s my first time ever writing/posting my work so I hope I didn’t disappoint, also English isn’t my first language but that shouldn’t be a problem.

“Hey Tony!” Peter practically yelled, tossing his backpack in the air and shooting a web to pin it against the wall. Tony always pretended to be annoyed at this even though he secretly found it pretty funny.

“Sweetheart, you know you can just place your backpack on the couch? You‘re capable of that right?” He replied amused and winked at the young man.

Peter instantly went red “y-yeah um I, I- know it’s just more fun this way” he flinched at his own awkwardness and resisted the urge to hide his face. That’s been happening a lot recently. He didn’t quite understand where all the pet names were coming from all of a sudden but damn he wasn’t complaining. Peter risked a glance at the man, standing and petting Dum-E’s head, and smiled, quickly looking back down to hide his scarlet cheeks.

It was truly unfair though. Tony was in a white tank top, the fabric clinging to his muscles in all the right places and his hair was a little tousled and sweaty. “How can a person be this freaking hot?” he thought. But that wasn’t the only thing that attracted him to Tony, oh no, it was also his sense of humor, his intelligence, his kindness, his generosity, his ambitions, his sarcasm, his strength, the way he carried himself, the soft and real smiles he only showed to a select amount of people... yeah he was in deep. Maybe if it was only Tony’s looks that made Peter’s knees a useless sack of jello, he could’ve gotten over him a long time ago. At the end of the day there were a lot of attractive people, but that doesn’t mean you have to be in love with them right? But no, he just had to be in love with a man he could never have. Hopeless. That’s what it was. For now though he decidedly catalogues that pet name in his mind so he can unravel it over and over again when he’s laying in bed later.

Peter blinked and shook himself from his stupor “uh anyways, what’ve you got for me to work on today, Tony?”. Calling Mr Stark by his first name was another thing he’s been getting used to, but the man sat him down a few weeks ago and insisted that now he really couldn’t have it if Peter still called him Mr. Stark and to please please please with a cherry on top call him Tony. To be fair everything from that conversation was a little fuzzy to him since he got stabbed on patrol that day and Tony had cried and yelled and hugged and softened all at once. He couldn’t quite grasp why suddenly it was so important to call him Tony now since it kind of became an inside joke between them, but I guess logically at some point it had to come to an end and how could Peter refuse anyway? He liked the familiarity that came with it. It made him feel more like an equal.

“Uh actually, Pete, I thought we could head upstairs and watch a movie together? You know, leave the lab for once. I’ve got popcorn and I’m pretty sure Nat and Cap will want to join us too.” Peter frowned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Tony wanted to watch a movie with him? He actually suggested to leave the lab in order to do something mundane and domestic? What was going on... Tony mistook Peter’s silence and confusion for hesitation and quickly added “I mean we don’t have to. We can just work on your web-“

“No! No, I mean I would love to. I’d like that actually.” Oh God he sounded way too eager. “Might be a nice change of scenery” he concluded, trying to be a little more casual about it.

Tony‘s lips twitched reassuringly at the other brunette “Let’s go then, darling.” a warm feeling spread all over him and it tenfolded when Tony actually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together to guide him up the stairs.

“Go sit, I’ll pop the corn. Save me a seat next to you, kay?” Tony asked as he walked off towards the kitchen, not really expecting an answer. Peter mumbled a “yeah” under his breath anyway. He stood there for a good minute just smiling to himself.

“Hey spiderbaby, come sit” Nat had a knowing smirk on her face as she lifted her legs off the couch so she could sit more upright and make room for the two. Peter tried to scold his features into a look of indifference even if he realized it was probably useless already. What was the point in faking it in front of a super spy who could probably see through Peter as if he’s actually transparent.

When they both settled on the couch Natasha’s eyes snapped up from the tv and she frowned slightly as she tilted her head at Peter “So, how’s the boyfriend doing? He treating you good or do I have to go all assassin on him?”

Peter felt his cheeks warm up and shifted a bit as he let out a dramatic sigh “I really wish you would stop teasing me with that, you know? I just.. He doesn’t even li- Oh God he’s coming over. Ssht!” he lost his train of thought and pretended to be very invested in whatever was going on with his sleeves. Natasha looked a little puzzled at his reaction but decided not to say anything.

“Guess what? Popcorn AND pizza. How awesome am I?“ Peter finally lifted his gaze and stared at him with what could only be described as exasperated fondness. “You’re okay I guess”

“Hey now” Tony wagged a finger in Peter’s direction as he flopped down closely next to Peter “I’m feeding you, the least you could do is feed my ego in return” Tony joked, giving Peter a halfhearted glare that Peter rolled his eyes at as he grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Peter hurriedly swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and somehow mustered the courage to look into Tony’s whiskey colored eyes. “Okay then. You’re pretty great- no, scratch that, you’re really great. You’re the best actually. And I just-“

“PLEASE, I beg of you, stop the flirting already. I’m trying to enjoy my movie and this is more painful than any torture technique I’ve ever experimented with.” Natasha interrupted Peter’s rambling.

Peter’s first instinct was to deflect and deny. He wanted to say that he was simply complementing, stating the truth even, but definitely not flirting. Any protesting however was quickly forgotten when Tony pulled Peter’s blanketed form across his lap, smushing Peter’s cheek against Tony’s thigh as he gently ran his fingers through Peter’s messy chocolate locks. “Oh Nat, don’t be jealous. I’m sure you’ll find someone someday” he didn’t face Nat though, simply grinning down at the younger man in his lap.

Peter couldn’t believe his ears and it only got more confusing and complicated when Nat spoke next “No, in all seriousness, I’m really happy for you two. You’re great together and you’re changing each other for the better. I mean Peter, you’re more giggly and joyeus than ever and Tony you’re actually taking breaks more often, eating when you’re supposed to... it’s good that you’re dating”

“You’re right”

“WHAT?”

They spoke at the same time and suddenly Tony’s eyebrows furrowed as Peter pulled his head out of Tony’s lap. “What’s wrong?” He questioned with a hint of concern in his voice.

“What do you mean “what’s wrong”? You’re not weirded out or anything?” Peter’s eyes were comically large.

“Why would I be weirded out? Wait- don’t you think we’re... you don’t think we’re good together? Do you want to break up with me or something?” Tony’s eyes were a little glossy and he started fidgeting with a pillow next to him.

Natasha took that as her cue to leave, silently as ever, not that Peter would’ve noticed anything either way. “Break up? What? I- how- I mean? We’re... we’re dating?”

“Are you kidding me? I call you sweetheart and darling all the time. I look at you like you’re my entire world, which you are by the way, and I- I mean I thought we were just taking it slow, but you... you really didn’t know? What did you think we were doing?” He sounded a lot lighter and he could even start to see the hilarity of the situation. “We had a whole ass conversation about this. I said I couldn’t waste any more time pining over you and not being with you, since in our line of work every day could be our last. Were you not there or something? Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t talking to myself though but then again-“

“You mean when I GOT STABBED? I think there was a lot of blood loss going on at that moment!” Tony winced at the reminder. “Fuck... just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot”.

And Tony did.

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #stabbing #didn’t know they were dating #starkerprompt #ironspider #fluff #angst #Peter Parker needs a hug #Tony Stark needs a hug #hurt/comfort #Peter is like 20 in this idk #tooth-rotting fluff #peter parker/tony stark

[daeyeolss]

how I make my gifs: a tutorial

Hi everyone! Just in case someone asks in the future + for those curious, I'm here with a tutorial on how I make gifs! If you have any questions whatsoever, please do send me an ask! I’ll be glad to help! The gif I made with this tutorial is the one right here! 

So... let’s start this tutorial with the programs I use.

Adobe Photoshop 2020 - To make the gifs, majority of the work is done in this program.

TopazLabs (Topaz DeNoise 6 and Topaz Clean 3) - To "denoise" and "clean" the gifs, as the names would suggest. Links for download: Topaz DeNoise 6 & Topaz Clean 3

KMPlayer (an alternative would be PotPlayer, or any other video playing program that allows you to capture the frames) - To capture the frames. - I use an older version of KMPlayer, though I don't know which exact version that is.

Now let’s continue onto how I use these programs to create gifs!

Step 1: After you’ve downloaded the necessary programs, download your video. The way to get the best gifs? Quality videos. That’s the first step. For K-pop performances, I recommend this website (the hq files are in .ts form, KMPlayer should be able to open these). Bookmark it! It’s really handy :) Get the video you want to make a gif from and open it in KMPlayer (or PotPlayer or any other program, but for this tutorial I’ll use KMPlayer). Open your video in said program and look for the part you want to make a gif of. Then press CTRL+G (I apologize because I cannot for the life of me remember if this was a standard shortcut or not)

Step 2: After pressing CTRL+G, you’ll be met with this screen:

I’ll briefly explain the numbered parts, but before that, these are my standard settings and just make sure you have them all the same and it should be good!

1: This is where your captured frames will be extracted to. I have them extracted to the standard folder, but you can change this if you want to. You’ll need this folder later when opening the frames!

2: Like it says, this is the image format. I use PNG in the highest quality, as the name would suggest, for the quality.

3: These are the amount of frames the program captures. Say you put in every 2 or 4 frames, you’ll get more choppy gifs. To get the smoothest gifs, put “every frame” (this in turn will increase the gif size as the amount of frames will obviously be bigger).

Once you’ve put in the correct settings and you’ve put the slider where you want the capturing process to start, press “start” (now, before you do this I recommend putting the video on mute as the audio will start to get kinda demon-y the longer you record lol save your ears pls). Then, when you’ve captured all the frames you need, pause the video, press CTRL+G again and click “stop” and close the pop-up/program.

Step 3: It’s time to open up Photoshop! Then go to File > Scripts > Load Files into Stack... (for older versions/another version I used in the past this one didn’t work and I had to use the “Load Multiple DICOM Files...” instead. It should work similarly though, if I remember correctly).

You then get a little pop-up that looks like this:

All you have to do here is click “browse” and navigate to the folder where your captured frames have been saved in. Select all the frames you need, wait for them to load in and then click “OK”!

Step 4: Depending on the amount of frames you’ve selected to load in, as well as the beefiness of your PC/laptop, the frames loading part might take a little while. Photoshop is importing every frame as a separate layer into one file, so just... grab a drink or something and wait a bit! When you’re done waiting, if you haven’t already, go to Window > Timeline. This will show you the animation timeline. For older Photoshop versions this is slightly different (I believe it’s called animation). Then click “Create Video Timeline” and click the 3 squares on the left bottom side (in older versions it’s on the right bottom side, not sure). 

Step 5: After you’ve done all that, you’ll want to select all your layers. You can do this by pressing ALT+CTRL+A or going to Select > All Layers. With all the layers selected, you have to go to Layer > Arrange > Reverse. You only have to do this if you used the “Load Files into Stack” option!

Step 6: After reversing all your layers, you’ll want to go to the three lines you see in the following screenshot, and click “Make Frames From Layers”.

As the name suggests, this turns all the layers into frames. I don’t know why but the first frame will always be 5 seconds long, so to make it easy on yourself when you want to check your gif while editing, just put that on 0 for now. You can do that by clicking the seconds under the frame and clicking “No delay”. After this, check to see if you have the right frames and if you need to delete some (you can do this at any point in the process but I didn’t know where to put it in the tutorial oops).

Step 7: Time to crop the gif to the correct size! For this gif I’m using as an example, I’m making it specifically for Twitter, so the sizes aren’t that obvious (for Twitter I usually use a width of 850 px to keep it sharp, for long size gifs (more height than width for example), I add a background so that it eventually still becomes 850x850 pixels). There’s many posts on Tumblr about the correct sizes for gif/photosets, but a brief rundown of my most used sizes: one gif spanning the entire width of the post has to be 540 px in width. Two gifs next to one another need to have a width of 268 px. I use these dimensions the most! For others, you can Google! 

Step 8: After you’ve cropped the gif, you can do either of two things: either you first add the coloring of your choice and then sharpen the gif OR you do it the other way around. I usually switch these two around depending on how sharp the gif already looks before sharpening because I can’t stand looking at 2 pixels while coloring (lmao). For this one I’ll do the sharpening first.

The whole sharpening process is actually quite simple but you need to make sure that you do the following little steps in the right order or else it won’t work! Select all the layers (CTRL+ALT+A or Select > All Layers) and then click this little thingy:

Then you’re going to Filter > Convert for Smart Filters

If you don’t do it in this order, your gif will end up... well, not being a gif and not moving. If that happens, track back in your history to see if you did it in the correct order! :)

Step 9: The actual sharpening process! After clicking the “Convert for Smart Filters”, you’ll want to go to Filter again and find the Topaz Labs tabs. Personally, I usually do it in the order of DeNoise first and then Clean, but this is a personal thing, really.

I recommend playing around with the settings to see what fits the gif but here are my go-to DeNoise settings (tip: save these as a preset so you only have to click that for faster giffing!):

And my Clean settings:

Press OK when you’re done with these and then go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. These are my SS settings (just copy these, and again, save as a preset!):

Depending on how sharp you want the gif to be, you can input the same settings or go to this in the layers and change the percentage.

Now that we’re done with these... it’s time to flatten it! Just follow these little steps:

And then you wait. Again. I know.

Step 10: After playing the waiting game, you’ll click the three little squares again and do the same thing you did earlier: “Make Frames Into Layers”. Delete the first frame. Add a coloring of your choice (can be a PSD, can be your own coloring, etc. this is honestly just... playing around with things and see what it can do). After you’ve done coloring, select all your frames (same lines as previous screenshot except now you’ll see a “Select All Frames” option, click it!) and change the time to whatever you like (I usually go for 0.05, 0.06, or 0.07. Again, just play around with this!! Try different things!) 

Step 11: Final step! Saving :) I use shortcuts a lot to make things faster so either press ALT+SHIFT+CTRL+S or go to File > Export > Save For Web. Not much to do here, just copy the following settings and save the file!

!!! NOTE: After making a new gif today I realized there’s a weird dotted border on the top of my gifs, it’s a bit difficult to explain but I had no idea what it was. Turns out that the reason why this showed up was because, as shown in the screenshot below, I had “Transparency” selected. If you’re experiencing this too, UNSELECT the transparency and it should be all good!

Also make sure that the “Looping Options” is set to Forever, or else your gif will play only once and then stop!

Tip: While making gifs for Twitter I at one point noticed that if I added in a white background, no matter what I’d do, it’d show up as yellow-y in the preview box. After googling I found that going to the options (1 in the screenshot) and then clicking “Sort by Luminance”, then double-clicking the lightest color (not the transparent one, 2 in the screenshot) and selecting white (or FFF) will get rid of this! This likely won’t be that useful for Tumblr gifs but just in case you ever want to have a white background...!

Then just... save, and upload to Tumblr! :)

Final note: Tumblr has a mix gif size of 3MB. If you have a gifset of 4 gifs you want to upload, all 4 gifs can be max 3MB each. Keep this in mind! If you’re over 3MB, delete a few frames and try again, or resize/crop your gif!

As it turns out, Tumblr has increased their gif size to 8MB, however, the quality tends to get compressed with larger gifs like that so per recommendation: keep them below 5MB! (thank you @yeoli​ for letting me know!)

I hope this helped! If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message and I’ll try my best to answer them.

#tutorial #gif #gif tutorial #kpop #gif making #gifs #idk what to tag this lmao

[unnecessaryadversaries]

LOVE & DEATH [Alucard | Adrian Tepes X Death] Ch. 8

Summary: Since Trevor and Sypha's departure, Alucard has endured terrible loneliness and grief. Despite becoming known as the "Guardian Angel" — defender of Wallachia, and involving himself with witches, he believes it is his fate to suffer alone forever. One night, his world is turned upside down when the castle is visited by Mistress, the incarnation of Death. Each being the only remnant of what Dracula and Lisa have left behind, Alucard and Mistress Death revisit ghosts of their past, as they try to find solace amongst one another, and face the looming threats ahead.

(A/N: In case you were curious, Alucard is 6'2"; Mistress Death is 6'8"; and Itzhak is 7'3". So we've got a smol, a tol, and a very tol!)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The kitchen was warm when Alucard walked into it, almost to the point of being stuffy, and the odor of burning wafted through the air. Despite this, his eyes widened slightly in awe as he looked overhead at the many candles hovering in midair, softening the space with a peaceful, orangish glow. Which was accented by the blue moonlight filtering in through the windows. It seemed magical, and he smirked at the gesture, but as enchanting as it looked, it could not distract from the mess made of the kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly in the sink, food and other substances decorated the countertops and shelves in splotches, and the once tidy cabinets were open and wildly rummaged throughout.

“What a wonderful surprise,” Alucard muttered under his breath. He rubbed the aggravated knot that was already beginning to form in the back of his neck. The careful organization and storage of recipes, ingredients, and food were dismantled in hours, and it made his eye twitch. However, what caused him to blanch was the whispered sound of Mistress giggling as she spoke with Itzhak. They were observing the handstitched dolls Alucard had placed on a low shelf.

“Don’t look at those,” he blurted out, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Ah, Adrian, there you are,” Mistress replied as she and Itzhak rose to their full heights to gaze down at him.

Alucard immediately noticed that she was dressed differently: For one, she wore no cloak, and her chained belt was missing but the amulet remained draped around her neck. Her new dress was still long and fitted her form but was off-shoulder and a muted blue color. The neckline dipped into a sweetheart pattern that almost revealed the line of her bust, and the sleeves remained dramatic and medieval-like. Her long, white hair was styled into cornrows at the front of her head that then dispersed into a bouquet of kinky curls starting at the middle. Furthermore, the two braids that hung forward on each side of her head were decorated at the end with silver beads.

He already considered her beautiful. Only now, she looked more welcoming, and maybe even slightly happier. Had it not been for the mess he knew she made, nor the humiliation he felt at having his dolls discovered, he would’ve complimented her.

“Itzhak and I were just admiring your cute, little dolls.” Reaching out, she grabbed them both in her hand. “They look just like Belmont and the Speaker girl. You’re so creative, Adrian. Isn’t that right, Itzhak?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

Alucard shook his head. “You really are laying the compliments on thick; these are hardly impressive.”

He suppressed the urge to groan as he saw the way Mistress placed them back on the shelf. They were slouched over sadly and set too far apart from each other for his liking. Therefore, he approached the dolls rather quickly to fix their positions and lamented as he did so. “This castle was a lonesome, unfriendly place when Trevor and Sypha left, and I admittedly went a little mad when they were gone. These are just dolls but most days they were all I had to talk to.”

Once perfect, Alucard stepped back to admire his handiwork, a small smile tugging on his lips when memories of their playful bickering began to resurface.

“That’s pathetic,” Itzhak deadpanned.

An irritated growl ripped its way from Alucard’s throat as his head turned sharply to glare at the creature. His hands itched with the temptation to tear him apart, but if his earlier reaction to losing an arm were anything to go by, it’d hardly faze him in the slightest.

“Well, it needn’t be that way if they hadn’t left,” Alucard exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the dolls as his forehead wrinkled in frustration. In the awkward silence, little Trevor and little Sypha toppled forward slightly, as if they were bowing in forgiveness. He immediately noticed and grumbled as he moved to fix them in upright positions again.

Itzhak muttered “pathetic” in his alien tongue then looked to Mistress Death for her response…but, she had none. Instead, she stood rigidly and looked upon Alucard with a face etched with sorrow and guilt. Her eyes began to moisten with blood, tinging the white sclera pink and then red, as her bloody tears welled and threatened to spill. It was an intense look Itzhak had not seen since the night of Alucard’s birth, and it caused him to gasp, “My Mistress!” with a voice tainted by some flicker of worry. Slightly alarmed, she perked up and batted her eyes to return them to normal and acknowledged him.

“What is it?”

“The…surprise—”

“Yes,” Alucard interjected, “what is my surprise?” He faced them with his arms crossed after finishing with his task. “Because I am somewhat underwhelmed and quite frankly annoyed. The candles are a nice touch but, I can see that you’ve cleaned yourself up better than my kitchen.”

Mistress rolled her eyes skyward. “Ugh, you are a true Tepes man at heart, so dramatic.”

With that, she snapped her fingers, causing a visible shockwave to surge from them and spread rapidly outward. Consequently, the cabinets and windows rattled somewhat, and the ground shook slightly, but overall the kitchen was no longer in disarray. Alucard lowered the arm he raised to shield his face and gripped his chin as he surveyed the room, humming thoughtfully. Aside from the candles that still hovered overhead, everything seemed cleaned and in its proper place. Even that weird burnt smell was gone.

“There, is that better?”

Alucard arched a brow then brushed past her, headed towards one of his spice cabinets. He had a complex system when it came to the organization of his spices; one that took him days to figure out the best catalog that suited his cooking methods and palate, and he’d be damned if it was all thrown to the wind. He sifted through that cabinet and two others, checking the labels and positions of different spices to make sure everything was indeed in order. Once everything checked out, he released a satisfied sigh and answered, “Yes, much better.”

“Splendid! Now, come sit. Itzhak, pull out a chair for him!”

“Right away, Mistress.”

Alucard nodded his head in thanks when Itzhak pushed him comfortably up to the table. He had a sneaking suspicion of what to expect, and his mouth formed an “o” when it was confirmed. Mistress carefully set a lidded plate and silverware down in front of him, shyly confessing, “I could’ve used magic or simply summoned a chef from the Outerworld, but I wanted to do things myself.”

Alucard’s warm smile soothed any uncertainty she had regarding his surprise, and she felt more confident with her dish. Her body practically buzzed with excitement as she envisioned how pleased he would look as he ate. She became so eager by these thoughts that she almost wished to stuff his mouth full of food herself! However, she silently scolded herself for thinking such things.

Okay, that’s a little too far. What am I, insane? I need to control myself. It’s only food, but —

“How considerate, thank you, Mistress,” Alucard said, picking up his fork and knife. “I can hardly remember the last time someone has cooked for me, so I can’t wait to dig in.”

She beamed. “Perhaps I can do so again if this meal satisfies you?”

He chuckled lightly. “A tempting offer.”

When she finally lifted the lid, Alucard’s glowing face quickly became cast with a shadow of disgust and confusion. He tried to mask his repulsion with delight, but his furrowed brows and tense, awkward grin betrayed his true feelings. Fortunately for him, due to Mistress Death’s initial excitement, she was none-the-wiser to his first impression of her dish. Itzhak, on the other hand, stood beside her, watching the dhampir closely and softly droning as if in thought. Briefly, Alucard wondered how a being without much of a face could appear so judgmental?

“Well,” Mistress clasped her hands together, “what do you think?”

He poked nervously at the food, examining it with a critical eye. Two unevenly sized chicken breasts sat pitifully atop a mucousy mass of some unknown substance. The chicken was wrapped in what Alucard assumed was mozzarella cheese. It was spotted with pools of reddish oil and stretched thin enough to appear transparent in some areas, revealing the pinkish color of the chicken breasts underneath.

“Ah, chicken,” he commented with a shaking voice and wrinkling nose, “one of my favorites.”

He pushed the poultry aside to dig through the reddish-brown, slimy stuff below. It looked like a massive tumor of maggots, and when he tried to separate it, it pulled apart in gooey strands.

Oh Lord, please.

Alucard was never one to pray over his food before, but now he was beginning to consider asking for some divine intervention. The texture of this stuff alone was enough to make him feel sick, so he didn’t want to imagine how it’d taste. For a moment, he gaped wordlessly at it before clearing his throat. “And what might this be?”

“Jewel worms! They’re considered a delicacy amongst the elven folk in the Outerworld. I only hope I prepared them correctly.”

“I see,” he responded, hoping that his dread didn’t seep too far into his tone. “And what are they supposed to taste like?”

To Alucard’s dismay, she shrugged. “Unfortunately, I would not know. I only followed the recipe once Itzhak brought me the ingredients.”

The maggots themselves sat upon a pile of a thick, gray mush freckled with bits of muted colors. Furthermore, the mush rested in a puddle of runny sauce that resembled muddy water.

As if reading his mind, Mistress explained, “those are mashed potatoes.”

He squinted his eyes to peer closer at it. “What are these speckled bits inside of it?”

“Maybe if you try it instead of asking me, you’d soon find out,” she answered with a wink.

He knew she was only teasing, but as vile as the food looked, her words seemed more like a threat. Even before tasting it, Alucard knew that this dish would be the worst thing he’s ever eaten, and yet, he still wanted to try it. While the glee that twinkled in Mistress Death’s eyes wasn’t enough to convince him that what she made was of any good, it was enough for him to know that she genuinely wished to present him with something she thought would make him happy. It was more than he could’ve asked for, and he couldn’t possibly reject her kindness, no matter how wretched her food was. After steeling himself with a deep breath, he gathered a piece of everything onto his fork and ate.

xXx

“You killed him.”

Mistress clicked her tongue. “Hush! I did not kill him,” she hissed, making Itzhak squirm underneath her murderous glare. The seconds ticked by, and her deadly stillness paired with a chilling silence conveyed a level of anger and threat of violence that was enough to wrench a deep, apologetic bow from his body.

“I was careless with my speech,” he quavered, then added in his alien tongue, “Forgive me, my Mistress!”

At his words, Mistress sighed in approval, stepping away from him. “I can hardly fault you, Itzhak —” she placed her hands on either side of Alucard’s head and lifted it from the table “— he does look quite…dead.”

A mess of food dirtied his face, and some jewel worms even managed to tangle themselves in the strands of his golden hair. With a huff, Mistress lazily waved her hand, magically removing the mess from his face and hair. Next, she effortlessly lifted him into her arms bridal style and turned to Itzhak. A pang of sympathy hit him as he awaited instructions from Mistress. Though her happiness earlier was not a façade, it was draining for her to be around the dhampir. The slight tremor of her arms was evidence of how tired she was becoming, and her once bright eyes had faded to a dying glow.

It’s almost as if she’s making herself sick…but why, my Mistress?

“Take him to his chambers. I don’t know when he’ll awaken, but it shouldn’t be that long. My cooking can’t be that bad,” she said bitterly, the realization of her failure beginning to sully her pride.

Once Alucard was carefully placed in his arms, he started to make his way towards the exit. The clinking of dishes led him to believe that Mistress Death was attempting to prepare another course, but when he turned around to acknowledge another command, he was surprised to see a teapot in her hand.

Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, Itzhak remarked, “I do not wish to see you this way, my Mistress. Why do you endure for the Tepes boy?”

“You should have intimate knowledge as to why I endure this pain for Adrian — I wish to make him happy. It wasn’t too long ago in your life that you’ve also endured for someone you claimed to love,” she ended with a sneer.

Empathy, Mistress Death thought, do I want Itzhak’s just for the sake of being understood, or do I not want to be seen as a fool?

He grunted in remembrance and countered, “Devotion led to my downfall. I am what I am today because I desired to endure for the sake of another.”

She laughed, the pitch of her voice rising in bewilderment. “Is that what this is about, you believe Adrian would betray me?”

Her eyes flashed dangerously when she faced him fully. “I think you’ve forgotten what I am,” she warned, an inhuman growl crisping the edge of her words. A mysterious light breeze began to push against the fire of the candles above.

Despite this, he courageously pressed on. “I have not forgotten, nor do I believe that the dhampir will betray you.”

Mistress snorted and turned her attention to the teapot in front of her. “Then why waste my time with such musings?”

“Because I know you are hurting! Your body shakes with weariness, my Mistress, and your eyes cloud with blood!”

She was rendered silent and lowered her head. The candle flames also started shivering more violently.

“I also wonder…” He glanced down at Alucard’s handsome face then back to her, “…if your desire to make him happy only stems from your guilt?”

Mistress Death’s head whipped towards Itzhak with as much swiftness as the instantaneous snuffing of the candlelight by the mysterious wind. Her eyes were wild and glassy with tears, and her teeth were bared but non-threatening; she looked deranged.

Cry, cry, cry, she urged herself. But, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Instead, she spoke with a cracking voice, “You never lost what I did…you cannot see what I do. I hurt in a way that you do not understand, and because of that, I…I am...”

Alone.

In her distress, she wished that Alucard would awaken because she wanted to talk with someone who understood. Furthermore, at this moment, when her stubbornness and pride were weak, she desired the strength to pour everything in her heart out to him. She realized that this must be the pain of loneliness, and her body started to ache from it.

Is this the real reason why I stay? Because I’m as lonely as Adrian?

Mistress turned her back on Itzhak as she attempted to control her labored breathing. With a quiet but even voice, she said, “Take Adrian to his chambers, then complete the other task which I’ve commanded you.”

He sighed and nodded. “As you wish, Mistress.”

When he left, she tried to bury her feelings once again as she clutched the teapot tightly to her chest. The only thing that kept her from shattering it in her grip was that it once belonged to Lisa.

Alucard’s eyes opened slowly. His mind was hazy, so he kept still and stared above at the wispy, white curtains of his canopy bed, waiting to remember what had happened to him.

Itzhak. Surprise. Mistress. Food — ah, that’s right. I must’ve blacked out after I ate her food.

He shivered at the memory and became nauseated by the lingering taste in his mouth. As he stood and made his way to the door, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He knew that either Mistress Death or Itzhak carried him back to bed, and when he opened the door, he was greeted by the latter.

“You are awake,” Itzhak commented in monotone.

“Yes, how long was I unconscious?”

The creature raised a bony finger to his chin and droned. “About an hour from the last time you were awake.”

Alucard’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“While I carried you up the stairs, you awoke suddenly and vomited, then passed out again.”

He cringed at that. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to cause you such trouble.”

“I have dealt with worse.”

With Itzhak in close step behind him, Alucard made his way to the bathroom.

He glanced behind himself and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to follow me.”

“I don’t want to, but Mistress has commanded me to keep watch over you, in case you pass out again.”

“How thoughtful of her,” he mumbled.

Once he made it to the bathroom, he quickly shut the door behind him before Itzhak had a chance to step inside; But, almost jumped out of his skin when he turned around to see him standing in the middle of the room.

He growled, “Does she intend for you to babysit me while I piss as well?”

Itzhak scratched his head. “She didn’t specify—”

“Get out.”

xXx

This time, the kitchen was colder and darker when Alucard stepped into it. The candles were gone, so the only light that illuminated the space was the moonlight that poured in from the windows. Mistress sat at the table stock-still with her hands surrounding a steaming cup of tea, and her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping. Alucard hummed in thought and sat next to her, spotting the cup of tea that was waiting for him. Mistress didn’t notice when he sat down, nor when Itzhak materialized into the kitchen, and it caused the dhampir to worry. Something was amiss with her, and he didn’t like it.

He cupped her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Mistress?”

When she opened her eyes, they were pitch black, and after she blinked, they returned to normal. “Adrian, it’s nice to see that you’re awake. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, after brushing the taste from my mouth I do, thank you. Are you alright?”

She merely nodded.

“What were you doing?”

She stirred the tea in her cup distractedly. “Just thinking.”

“Of?”

“Death,” she replied matter-of-factly before taking a sip.

He removed his hand from her shoulder and grimaced. “How very fitting,” he said dryly.

After a few moments, she gestured to his teacup. “I found these neglected at the back of your cabinet.”

Alucard huffed a laugh as he traced the golden rim of the floral teacup with his finger. “I was never much of a tea drinker. I only ever drink it when visiting with witches in Arges — my mother, on the other hand, was a different story.”

At this, her voice grew lively. “Oh, I know. Day and night, Lisa would drink it. She was practically addicted.”

“Indeed, she was,” he laughed.

Fondness sparkled in Mistress’s eyes as she traced the designs on the saucer. “This set was a gift from me for one of Lisa’s wedding anniversaries. We used to drink tea all the time together in the castle garden.”

“Really?”

Alucard angled his body slightly closer to her as if he’d hang on better to every word she said this way. His heart warmed at the mention of another speaking so tenderly about his mother. And, he hoped that Mistress would continue speaking of her recollections, for both of their sakes.

“Your mother was always polite enough to drink the tea I prepared. No matter how sweet or how bitter it ended up, she at least took a sip. However, I did get better overtime…with her help of course.”

The pleasant smile she flashed him was contagious.

“I took the liberty of having Itzhak retrieve your mother’s favorite tea flavor from the Outerworld — It’s called Rose of Sharon. I prepared it just as she would’ve liked it. Try some.”

The confidence she had in the drink was assuring, so Alucard did not hesitate to bring the cup to his lips. He was delighted by its floral aroma, which enhanced the sweet and fresh taste. Drinking the tea felt somewhat nostalgic since it reminded him of the perfume his mother used to wear. Oddly, the times he used to spend in the garden with his father, studying botany, also flooded his memory.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly after his first sip, licking his lips as he set the cup on the saucer. “That was very good. You’re quite masterful at tea-making, Mistress,” he praised.

She blinked surprisingly at him. “You mean it?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Pfft. Well, after considering your last little —” her eyes squinted suspiciously “— stunt, I took you as someone who enjoyed savoring the moment before crushing one’s misplaced optimism.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you seriously that offended?”

She gave him a side look and drank from her cup.

His eyes narrowed. “Come now, don’t act so childish. While I appreciate your efforts, I won’t deny that what you served me was more akin to poison than anything else.”

“Poison?” she drawled. “Ha! Funny. Maybe the fault lies not in my food but your weak stomach.”

“That’s rich, coming from someone who probably hasn’t even tasted food before. If the state of my kitchen was any indication of the quality of your meal, then it would’ve been wiser for me to pass.”

The tea set jumped with a clank when Mistress slammed her cup on the table. Surprisingly, nothing broke. “Hmph! Be that as it may, there is no better judge in this room than dear Itzhak. He’ll eat practically anything.” As if on cue, he appeared at the far end of the table where Mistress’s abomination still lay.

Alucard arched a brow. “If he’ll eat anything then his judgment would hardly be fair—”

“Nonsense.”

She smiled sweetly at Itzhak. “Go on, take a bite. Tell me how it is.”

He lifted the plate to the mouth that was forming on his face. It opened unnaturally wide to receive everything in one bite. The taste didn’t seem like much of a big deal once he closed his mouth to chew, but after a few moments, he started to retch and cough. When a thick, stringy piece of chicken fat flew out the corner of his mouth, he slurped it back inside, gagging as he did so. Mistress Death’s smile fell more and more with every wet burp and heave Itzhak emitted until her face eventually settled into an angry pout. On the other hand, Alucard was leaning back with his arms crossed, smirking smugly. After struggling to swallow, a shudder ran from the top of Itzhak’s head to the bottom of his feet.

Once his face returned to normal, he gurgled, “It — it’s…good, Mis—”

“Oh, shut up.”

Alucard chuckled, “Well, I think that settles things.” He pushed away from the table and walked towards the door.

Mistress looked at him quizzically. “Where are you going?”

Before leaving the kitchen, he switched on the lights and answered, “Off to retrieve some things. Hopefully, your pride isn’t so wounded that you plan on sitting there, sulking all night.”

Mistress stared at the cutting board, knife in hand. “You must be joking.”

“I most certainly am not,” Alucard replied, setting freshly washed vegetables in front of them. He dried his hands off on a towel and moved beside her.

“You mentioned earlier about possibly cooking for me again, correct? If your offer still stands, then I expect you to do things better the next time. Now, pay attention.”

Mistress raised a brow but couldn’t help to smile. She knew that Alucard wasn’t doing this to belittle her or show off. He was as much of a teacher as his parents, and sharing knowledge seems to be a quality he has similar to his mother. Plus, she had a feeling that he wanted to spend time with her as well, and she found that endearing.

Alucard held up a potato and rotated it to examine. “Potato skin is more nutritious than the potatoes themselves, and I washed them, so there is no need to remove them for this dish.”

Next, he set it on his cutting board and grabbed a knife, explaining, “Hold it crosswise and make sure to maintain it so that it doesn’t roll away while you cut. We’ll need to slice the potatoes like so, making sure each piece is even.”

He demonstrated until the entire potato was sliced. “Now, you try.”

Mistress nodded. “Alright.”

Halfway through cutting a potato, Alucard stopped her, patiently saying, “Your slices are uneven and too thick. Look at mine again, you see? They need to be uniform so that they all cook evenly.”

She tried again, and when he voiced his approval, they cut the rest together.

“You know a lot about cooking, it seems.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to learn here on my own. Some dishes I prepare are ones my mother used to make, and ones that I remember from places the castle traveled to. However, most are a result of experimentation or taken from books.”

She looked up in thought. “Hmm, now that I think about it, I do remember seeing an entire section of Dracula’s library containing nothing but cookbooks. Funny, since he rarely ever cooked.”

“He liked to collect knowledge,” Alucard said with a shrug.

She snorted. “Please, Adrian, call it what it was.”

“What?”

“Hoarding.”

The laughter he barked caused her eyes to crinkle at the corners.

“You must’ve teased my father a lot.”

“Heh heh, yes, more than you know.”

He cleared his throat. “Add these potatoes to the bowl. I already have minced garlic on hand, so let’s chop the spinach and halve these cherry tomatoes.”

She did as instructed and followed along with his guidance. Afterward, they moved everything over to the stove where he had raw chicken breasts waiting.

“Luckily, I had extra chicken stored, so there’s just enough for all three of us.”

From where Itzhak sat at the table, his head perked up. “Three?”

Alucard nodded. “It would be rude of me not to include you, Itzhak.”

The creature droned in response and cocked his head to the side as he watched him teach Mistress how to cook chicken properly. He noticed how her shoulders would sink then quickly raise back up whenever the dhampir looked away then back to her. However, her voice was still full of as much mirth she could express despite her weariness, and she was enjoying his company immensely. However, being around Alucard was a double-edged sword for Mistress, and Itzhak was concerned for the day putting on a brave face would become too arduous a task for her.

He was brought out of these thoughts when a savory aroma triggered his mouth to form, just so it could water.

“You never add more than what the recipe calls for. One cup of heavy cream might not look like enough for this, but it is,” Alucard informed.

“I see. Maybe that’s why my jewel worms came out the way they did.”

“I thought you said you followed the recipe?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Mmm, I may have…added a few things here and there. Don’t look at me like that.”

After combining the other ingredients, they waited for everything to simmer. In the meantime, Mistress set the table while Alucard left to grab some wine. When he returned, it was time to serve the food.

Silverware clinked against the porcelain plates as the trio ate in comforting silence. Given Itzhak’s large hands, he looked like a giant eating with the utensils of a dwarf. Even still, he didn’t let that stop him from enjoying his meal…maybe a little too much.

Mistress huffed exasperatedly. “For the love of — Itzhak, please, you do not have to moan like that after every bite!” She cursed in her alien language then added, “Honestly, are you eating or making love?”

Alucard chuckled, and Itzhak even released a few sounds akin to a laugh.

“It should be a compliment to you, Mistress. He’s only enjoying what you’ve made.”

“What we’ve made. And, you’re right, it is, so thank you, Itzhak. But, don’t be so dramatic about it next time,” she said with mock irritation but cracked a smile at him to signal that she was only teasing.

Light conversation was spoken between the three of them as they finished eating, and when Mistress and Itzhak exchanged a few words to one another in their language, Alucard drank from his wineglass.

As he did so, little Trevor and little Sypha had caught his eye from across the kitchen, and he could almost picture a smile on their faces. The wine tasted much sweeter that night.

A large bubble floated into the air, distorting the reflection of Mistress and Alucard as they stood side by side, washing dishes.

“This was my first time sharing a meal with someone,” she confessed, dunking a plate into the warm water.

“Really? I’m surprised given how much time you’ve spent with my parents.”

“I only ever drank tea with Lisa, and occasionally, wine with Dracula. But, I’ve never shared a meal with them…you’re my first.”

Alucard almost dropped a plate. A light blush stained his cheeks at her choice of words, given how innocently she said them.

“Right —” he hid his face with his hair “— well, did you enjoy it, then?”

He heard her soft laugh and froze when he felt her nails tickle the side of his face as she brushed his hair behind his ear. The motion compelled him to look at her, and despite her actions, he saw neither amusement nor teasing in her eyes, only pure adoration.

“Very,” she answered.

When they finished, Mistress Death’s attire and hair transformed back to the way they originally looked. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with Itzhak by her side.

“There are things I must attend to.”

Alucard looked to the floor. “I understand.”

“Now now, pick your head up. There's no need to look so downhearted and blue.”

Like a nervous boy, he spoke with a quiet voice. “If...if it isn’t too much to ask, may I see you again?” He kept his head bowed, not wanting to glance up for risk of seeing any rejection in her expression.

She lifted his strong chin with her knuckle. Intense, pale eyes were level to his, reflecting his eyes and hair like specks of gold. Her trademarked stillness did not chill nor intimidate Alucard this time. To him, it seemed fragile, as if she’d dart away with any small movement on his behalf, so he kept still too and held his breath as if it’d blow her away if he released it. The longer he studied her face, the more her weariness revealed itself to him. A sadness slowly seeped to the surface of her eyes, then ebbed away and flowed back. It was a push and pull of vulnerability that seemed like she was trying to reveal something to him, and yet, would not — could not?

He itched to know what she was trying to say.

Mistakenly, his lips parted to speak, and he cursed inwardly as she hastily pulled away. But it wasn’t before he caught the pain that had briefly flashed through her eyes. She pulled her hood over her head, concealing most of her face in shadow.

His brow furrowed in concern. “Mistress? What is—”

“I enjoyed my stay very much so I’ll return to you as soon as I can. It won’t be as long of a wait as last time.”

He frowned. One thing Alucard hated was tiptoeing around, but he acquiesced, simply because he didn’t want her to shut him out completely.

She uttered a word to him in her language that sounded lyrical, then explained, “That is my word of promise.”

When he tried repeating it back to her, she giggled at his slight butchering. “You were close.”

Black smoke rose from the ground where Mistress and Itzhak stood and slowly rotated up their forms.

“Until then, Adrian.”

“Until then, Mistress.”

Itzhak waved, and Alucard raised his hand in farewell, seeing the two of them off with a genuine smile.

#Castlevania #castlevania fandom #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania fanfic #castlevania fic #castlevania imagine #castlevania imagines #adrian tepes #Alucard #castlevania alucard #adrian fahrenheit tepes #Castlevania headcanons #alucard x oc #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x oc #adrian tepes x reader #castlevania fanart #castlevania netflix #castlevania adrian tepes #fanfiction #fanfic #poc characters #black characters #black writers #smol #tol #Sypha Belnades #sypha #trevor belmont

[offaeandcreation]

Sleep-Deprived College Student Becomes World's Strongest Cultivator By Bullshit Means

Summary:The last thing WanLi An (Ani) expected was to a) die in the most pathetic and ridiculous manner, b) wake up in the body of a villain destined to be beheaded in a war of their own making. Of course with Ani's luck, that's exactly what happened. Now Ani finds herself the ruthless, morally-questionable at best, leader of Qishan Wen, rearing two bratty children, while pretending that yes, she is absolutely Wen Ruohan. Nothing to see here! Everything is just fine. Except the universe isn't done making her life hell. "For fuck's sake, I just wanted my degree!"

Chapter 1: Holy Fucking Shit

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11+ 

Content Warnings: Death, Mourning, Dirty Jokes

AO3

On my gravestone, I want the following epithet: Murdered by heels via the eighth floor window. Gravity was a co-conspirator. 

There she flew, like an outtake of 'It's a Wonderful Life', skirt flapping in the wind harder than a can-can dancer's. Ani, known to her angry mother as WanLi An, was NOT about to become the world's next human pudding if she had any say about it. She reached for the psychology department’s brick edges, anything to stop the fall that ended in concrete. 

Supergirl, now’s your chance! Fulfill my lesbian dream!  

As she waited for the inevitable hero to come swooping in, a familiar object flew past her like from the Rabbit Hole scene in ‘Alice in Wonderland’: the softcover book she’d been reading, glossy title flashing its Chinese characters, ‘Mo Dao Zu Shi’.  

Oh ya, I could learn to fly on a sword!

She made a grab at it but missed, watching the wind sweep it away. Another possession flew into Ani’s line of sight: a pink tote bag with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on it – for A-Li. His meringues packed inside, made just for him to stuff his face with with the intention of proving that yes, he can fit five in his mouth now, all came flying out. The wind clearly wanted to take them for itself. 

Those are for A-Li you air-bag! 

Waving her arms around, she tried to reach for the helicoptering meringues with much gusto and much failure.The whistle in her ear might as well have been snickering.  

A photograph slipped into Ani’s line of sight taken back in China of her entire family: her parents, grandmother, A-Li, days before her father died. 

The wind stole the air out of her lungs. Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could while having no anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small.  She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter. 

No! No don’t do this! 

Ani screamed at the wind that tore at her, at the grey sky that looked at her with no mercy. 

I’m going to die. I can’t die- Grandmother, I can’t! Not now. I have to take care of A-Li–

A single tear kissed her cheek before floating in the air, too light to fall, before she plunged into the concrete. 

Xxxxxxxxxx

Ani’s eyes shot open, a gasp escaping her lips. Her heart pounded into the pillows she was lying face-first in, breathing as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare. 

She was in bed. At home. Safe. Her muscles relaxed, sinking into the mattress beneath-

Something hard resisted against her body, as if the mattress was more akin to a wooden board then memory foam. She blinked, allowing her hands to wander the bed, pressing and feeling against silky bedding. 

This isn’t my bed- 

Wait.

She shouldn’t even be in bed.

 Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could without an anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small.  She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter. 

She should have died.

I fell. 

I fell eight stories. 

I fell eight stories onto concrete.  

Ani sat up, finally looking where she was lying. She was in a large bed with a thick, silky, maroon blanket – something that her grandmother would have owned.  

What the fuck?

Ani looked up. Wooden beams criss-crossed above her, holding up a low ceiling made of an unknown dark wood. 

Why was there a ceiling? Wasn’t I just seconds ago falling out of a building into the concrete, outside? Where no ceilings could exist? 

Ani crawled towards the edge of the bed to take a good look. 

It wasn’t a ceiling, but a wooden canopy, with ostentatious diamond and floral engravings, accompanied by transparent red and black valance.  

Where am I?

Ani finally looked up from the bed. Her eyes bulged. Three college classrooms couldn’t have fit within this single bedroom. 

 Beyond the bed, a built-in nightstand had been covered in glass bottles, some small as pennies and others like glass blown art, and torn white sheets . 

 Bandages perhaps? I’m supposed to be in a hospital…? This doesn’t look like a hospital bed.

Beyond, silky red and woolen carpets decorated the dark floors.  Across the room, a large table sat perpendicular to the wall covered in stacks of scrolls.

Some regular-old New York City hospital most definitely wouldn’t have this – a waste of space and money. 

Ani blinked. Where was the IV drip? The heart monitor? White curtains? The sink? The putrid smell of alcohol and plastic? Flowers? She definitely deserved flowers. Especially after everything. 

What sorry excuse of a hospital is this?! An alt-medicine hospital?Did they give me acid? Was the whole accidentally-falling-out-of-a-building-from-the-top-floor-because-why-not sequence a dream? 

Ani rubbed her eyes to make absolutely certain she wasn’t indeed hallucinating. Except, her hand felt strange, as if someone attached weights to them without asking her permission. Ani pulled at them with more force, until she smacked herself in the face. She hissed in pain, glaring at her stupid hand-

What. The. Fuck.

This wanna-be-Micky-mouse-glove abomination was abso-fucking-lutely not her hand. She brought it close, staring at the long pale fingers, razor sharp nails –absolutely a lesbian hazard – and delicate wrist. It was at least twice the size of her face, and felt…foreign. Flexible, catching more air. Ani was pretty sure she could make shoes out of these hands and comfortably walk in them and with room.

She brought up her other hand in comparison. To her utter horror, they matched!

Ani closed her eyes, hoping that somehow to conjure up her smaller, tanner, lesbian-friendly hands. She opened one eye, her kernel of hope popping 

Nope. 

Either Ani was tripping very hard on acid to the point that her brain forgot the importance of clipped nails, or she’d fallen eight floors and needed a transplant and the only thing available were these man-hands. 

Cold pooled in Ani’s gut. Ani tossed off the blankets, scrambling to her feet. She ran towards the golden mirror attached to a nearby vanity. Despite skidding to a stop, her torso continued its trajectory until she face-planted into the floor. 

“Fuck,” she bit out. 

The sound that came out of her mouth was not the familiar timbre of her voice. She coughed and spoke again. 

“Hello.” 

It sounded so wrong. Ani spoke a few more words– “Hewwo,” “Nya-Nya,” “Nico Nico Nii,” “Motherfucker,”– before taking a deeper breath. No matter what sounds she made, the voice remained low like a choral bass singer. As low as her father’s had been. Tears welled in Ani’s eyes as she slowly tried to get to her feet, head spinning.

What’s happening? Why are my hands weird? Why is my voice weird! 

 Even her feet were weird: pale and big like her hands. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, trickling down her back into the collar of white robes that fell to her calves. She never could afford something like this.

 Nor did hospitals supply silk robes. 

 She brushed the robes aside as she got to her knees, her jaw throbbing, and faced the golden mirror. 

The face that stared back at her wasn’t her own. 

It was a face of man, with bright, unnatural scarlet eyes. 

The mirror broke. 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Ani flinched at the violent crack. She looked behind her, searching for whatever had broken the mirror. Outside of the table and a sliding-door that led to who-knows-where, there was nothing that could have caused the damage. 

She closed her eyes, counting to ten. Reopened them. She closed her eyes, counting to twenty. Reopened them. The same unknown male face stared back at her: long oval face, messy bed-head black hair, and vivid crimson eyes, tinted slightly by the color of the mirror. Not the round face, short dark hair and eyes that she has seen in the mirror every day for twenty-three years. Not the face she preferred. 

Red eyes? Seriously? Red? Hardly realistic. 

Not even albino irises were this intense. She backed away from the mirror, coming into the body’s full height. At least twice her height - which explains the sheer size of her hands and feet. 

At least I’ll be able to reach the top shelves without being laughed at. 

The thought quickly scurried away the longer she looked at herself. The mirror mimicked every move she made. The cracks distorted her figure– no, the man’s figure. 

What’s happening? What’s going on? Why am I in this body? Is this a hallucination? 

Ani mentally ran through all her psychology courses until she had an idea. 

Wait, there is still one more test. People who suffer from delusions often attempt to use other senses to figure out if they truly are seeing what is in front of them. So if this is all a delusion- 

Shutting her eyes, Ani stuck her hand between her legs-

Yup. That was most definitely not there before. I’m in a man’s body. Confirmed. 

She groaned, sinking to the floor in defeat, resting her head on the table. Leaning her head back, she noticed the scrolls wrapped in beige ribbons.  

Perhaps these documents will tell me what the hell is going on. 

She pulled at the ribbons, looking for something, anything that could give her answers. She scanned the unfurled parchment, noticing a collection of vertical lines, occasionally underlined once or twice that made no sense to her. Dates? 

She could understand the Chinese characters, except the style was clearly more archaic, with words that would never be used in any book that would be found at home. Except the older poetry books, because poets like to be pretentious know-it-alls. 

Ani looked for writing utensils, except instead of finding pencils and pens that every self-respecting person would have, she found only bamboo brushes. 

‘Want to learn?’ a memory itched at the back of her mind, floating to the surface. 

Her grandmother had returned from Beijing, eyes crinkling with a smile that her bright blue face mask hid. Ten-year old Ani cried out in happiness, rushing towards the open door in only her purple floral pajamas. Her father grabbed her before she could topple her grandmother with an unexpected bear hug. 

‘Ani, Ani, look what I brought you,’ she said with a familiar grin the moment she pulled down her mask under her aging chin.

From a plastic bag, she removed several shiny brushes, the bamboo wood birch-yellow, polished to a shine, and the bristles a variety of browns and white, pointy like a pencil.  

Her grandmother handed them to her, ‘Now Ani, these are the brushes of our ancestors, they used to work with these so long ago to make beautiful calligraphy. Want to learn?’ 

With careful fingers, Ani lifted one of the brushes, running her finger over the bristles and the smooth handle. These weren’t the brushes her grandmother gave her – the handles weren’t as dark nor as smooth as the wood lacked the sheen polish that modern brushes had, and the bristles were more frayed – not supported by synthetic material. These weren’t her grandmother’s brushes but- 

“Am I…in the past?” 

She scanned the space around her, searching for any sign of modern technology. A fireplace, a wardrobe that most probably cost at least a quarter of her tuition, mats that most definitely were made of organic material, not the synthetic fibers of the modern age. There wasn’t a single modern artifact in the room.

“I’m in the PAST?” Ani cried out, tearing at her hair, “How did THIS happen?” 

Her heart beat pounded in her ears. How? How? How? How! 

“Sect Leader Wen!” 

Ani yelped, grabbing  a bronze candle holder as the door slid open. She backed up into the mirror, glad it hadn’t shattered earlier. Assuming whatever entered the room wasn't trying to kill her, the last thing she needed was to pay for broken property just because she stared too hard at the mirror. 

A man with dull robes walked in on his knees. Their eyes met and he fell into a bow, face first into the hard wooden floors. 

“We are pleased to see you awake Sect Leader!” 

Yes, I’m sure you are. 

 “Physician Wen is being notified now,” he continued. “Is there anything that we can do for you in the meanwhile, Sect Leader Wen?” 

Luckily, the servant was too busy digging his nose into the floor and quivering like a vibrator to notice the way her mouth dropped along with the candle. 

Sect Leader…Wen? 

The name was familiar. Too familiar. She looked past the servant, above the door to the banner that decorated the walls. 

The sun symbol. 

A stone dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t just traveled into the past. She’d transmigrated into the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi. 

As Sect Leader Wen Ruohan. 

Who was destined to die. 

#oc #wen ruohan #wen xu #wen zhuliu #wen sect #mo dao su zhi #wen chao #my writing

[obscureoperations]

Hey,,I know this is kinda a weird request,,,but could i possibly get Martin with a male s/o whos like,,slowly losing it? Like descending into literal mental chaos,,? Ps I love your blog so much Martin is so underrated 👉👈

Now this is a concept... I shall try my best and also this might be a mood. And thank you so much! Yeh, he most definitely is, thats why its awesome to see so many more people showing him some love. Have a great day fam!

You were the most important person in the world to him, and it was beyond the fact that you would actually listen. It was beyond the fact that the moment he saw you his soul seemed to cry out “Where were you?”Some people have this natural connection, the second you see each other something finally clicks. It felt as though after an eternity of searching, someone finally actually saw you. He first saw you as you entered Cuda’s shop, brushing your bangs out of your eyes, he instantly wanted to dart to the back room. You couldn’t see him, the two of you were not supposed to meet like this. You were the face that he ran towards during his dreams. He tried to avoid you as he moved about the shop, but soon enough it became clear that he noticed you. “Hey’ where's the stationary isle?”  He looked at you like you had grown a second head. “Stationary.. You know… like paper?” “Aisle four…”

After a while you made it to the check out, idle small talk filled the silence. “So you work here permanently now?” “Yes…” he answers. “This is my cousin’s shop” 

 

“That old bat? Is he really your cousin? What are you--like twenty?” 

“I’m eighty four…” 

You instantly seemed to become intrigued. “Okay, I'm about ninety two.. That's what my joints are tellin me anyways--” You laugh as your fingertips reach towards the ceiling, cracking your back with a resounding pop. He eyed you as though you were some sort of alien for a brief moment. Watching as you reach up towards the ceiling, Shirt rising up, exposing the skin of your lower abdomen. “ Look away...” 

The sound of the back door alerts the both of you of Cuda’s presence, Martin quickly begins baging the rest of your items. 

“When do you work next… Martin?” 

“Tomorrow, around noon.”

“Nice, well, I’ll see ya then.” You offer, and with that you were gone, leaving Martin to question what had exactly happened. 

You showed up the next day like clockwork, notebook in hand eagerly flipping through the pages. You toss the open book on the counter, startling Martin out of his reprieve. “Now, look… I don’t want you to get weirded out okay... I literally make sketches of everything.”  Slowly Martin reaches for the notebook, his eyes widen just a bit. It was a picture of a boy.. No it was actually him. He could see the details in the face. His chin was propped up on his hand staring idly off into space. “T--thats me?”  “I had to, you looked so bored yesterday. Hope you don’t mind…”

It was such a simple gesture, but his heart actually ached. He existed in someone’s mind when not around? You were about to tear out the page and give it to him. “No… don’t”  “What?” “I… don’t want to fold it.”  It’s just ink on paper, it’s not gonna smudge .” His eyes linger on the portrait for a bit before briefly shifting towards your hands. He used to fancy the idea that he could draw, but this was a completely different ball game. Fascinating. “I’ll tell ya what, I could drop it by your place if you’d like?” Martin hastily agreed. He told you exactly where he was staying, and instructed you to use the window. There was a large tree in the backyard, just close enough to the window, The branches were large and thick, perfect for latching onto. He used it plenty of times before. “The window? I don’t know what you had in mind, but I was just going to drop off the picture.” Martin opened his mouth to speak before blushing profusely. “I-I didn’t mean…”  “I mean,  geez man, you could at least buy me dinner before you start making plans to sneak me into your room.” Martin glances around anxiously, he could already feel the heated glare from the old man. Luckily for you both Cuda was nowhere to be found, but the fact that he was in the same building left a lingering air of paranoia. You seem to quickly catch on, glancing over your shoulder. “Sorry, I know it’s because of him… I’ll be there at about eight… is that okay?” Martin nods his head, eyes once again lingering on your hands. 

~~~ 

You became a presence in his life and he was unsure of how it happened, the way you easily inserted yourself into his subconscious. He thought about you all the time, when you weren’t around, he would count the hours until he could see you again. In his mind, that might become a problem. What if one day, he just couldn't see you? Surely he would die. The two of you spent countless hours in your room late in the afternoon. He liked to watch you as you would draw, long languid motions, intricate scribbles, hair falling into your eyes. You would brush your bangs out of the way almost as though you were annoyed. His gaze would drift from your long delicate fingers further up your arms.The way the various veins and tendons would become pronounced with every stroke of your hand. Raised lines all varying in color and depth were painted all across your forearms. Some grouped together and extremely faint almost akin to tally marks and others extremely jagged and raised. He often wondered who had done that to you what happened? He would start to become angry as he imagined the details. One thing about Martin was that he was fairly transparent, much like other people… you could tell when he would stare. 

“Your silence is deafening shy boy… whats up.” Martin slowly eases over to your side. You close the notebook regarding him with a curious expression. You watch as his gaze moves to one of your arms. That was it, it took him long enough. Most people would just look at you with disgust. They weren't good at hiding the underlying condescension in their tone when they would offer “You have a good day okay?” Tentatively he raises a hand, only allowing himself to touch you when you don't move away. Long delicate fingers tracing over one of the deeper scars, for some reason your breath hitches in your throat. His touch was so gentle and achilingly precise, his fingertips trailed their way up your arm. He seemed almost fascinated as his eyes moved over each one, the touch of his hand alone causes goosebumps to form over your skin. When his gaze finally meets yours, there's a sort of innocence behind his eyes, you can already hear him asking “what happened?”

“I used to have really bad dreams…” 

“Dreams?”

“About the past… I couldn’t sleep, so I had to go away for a while.”

“Where did you go?”

“Fairmount.. I was there for almost a year.”

“Fairmount?”

“It’s a mental institution… Martin… do you need me to leave?” 

He’s silent for a moment as he chews at his bottom lip.

“They keep telling me that I need to be in a hospital… is it bad?”

“Dunno, I was doped up half the time.”

You watched as his eyes widened, he almost didn't know whether to laugh or if you were serious.

“Dead ass… and it wasn’t even the good stuff.”

The two of you began to talk, really talk. He talked about himself and his sickness. You talked about how even in your drug addled sleep, they would come for you in your dreams. Your neighbor when you were seven and how he ended up taking his own life when he found out your dad was pressing charges.You didn’t end up leaving until sometime after midnight,

~~

For the most part, things had gotten better, now that you weren't on that extreme cocktail of drugs. Your mind was no longer free rental space for them to take up occupancy at any given time. But you could feel their presence, even in the daylight-- somewhere in the corner of your peripherals you could see a shadow. They always moved so awkwardly and disjointed, when you'd glance to the side, it was only a branch. When you would lie in bed at night eyes focused on the ceiling, you could feel the bed shift, a sort of pressure on your chest… “No no no... “ You tried to think of Martin, that sometimes helped. Especially when you would picture his face. “It’ll be alright.. I promise you’ll be alright! They can't actually touch you. You want to scream as you feel them clawing at your skin, tearing off your clothes, holding you down, immobile. The seconds bleed into hours but in reality you were only out for two minutes. Your sheets were soaked with sweat and sometimes urine when you would come to. This had to stop. Fourteen years of your life he’d taken from you… this had to stop somehow.

~~

 Something was off, that much he could tell. Even though you tried your best to keep up your cheery demeanor. One thing you couldn’t hide were the dark circles under your eyes, your fingernails were bitten down to the nubs. You seemed to be running on vapors, he never saw you eat, raiding the fridge was one of the first things you would do when the two of you were alone. Cheery for the most part, but clearly agitated, sometimes you would end up being short with him. You would always quickly apologize, muttering some sort of excuse-- mostly about being tired. You promised yourself it would never happen again-- the one time you completely lost your temper. Martin didn't always stop by your place, you claimed it was too small and dingy. “When I have you over, I want it to be a palace!” Martin would always roll his eyes. You knew he was coming so it was not like you were surprised, you just had to have a quick shower. You emerged from the bathroom to find him flipping through your sketchbook, you were suddenly overwhelmed with a surge of anger. In an instant you snatch the notebook from his hands pinning him to the bed. It was as if your body was moving to its own accord, it was as though someone else’s hands were wrapped around his neck-- not really choking him, but hard enough to render him immoble. He couldn’t see them. You had to keep him safe. He would never know peace if he actually saw their faces.. That's why you drew them, you had to desensitize yourself. They had to know that you weren't afraid. You could almost feel the lockdown on your joints and muscles start to dissipate, and you realise he was speaking. His voice barely a whisper seeing as how your hands were still wrapped around his neck. Oh god-- 

You sit back as if you had just been burned, tears already forming at the corners of your eyes. What had you just done? You hurt him… you’re sick…  “Y/n…” He’s sitting forward now, not the least perturbed, his hands instantly cup your face. The tears were flowing steady now seeping into his palm… You were shaking, why was he still here? You were surprised he didn't bolt away the second you released him. “I-im s-orry.” Your voice was barely a whisper. He nods his head, a stray tear escapes which he quickly brushes away. A sudden rush of air escapes your lungs, though it comes out as more of a choked sob. “I’m s-soo sorry..” Martin quickly leans in pressing his lips to your forehead, holding you close. You cling to his desperately as though he might disappear-- you can feel his presence wrap around you like a warm blanket. The ever present chill momentarily evaporates in his warm embrace. Things had to get better. They absolutely had to. You would never allow yourself to hurt him again.  After a few moments you start to actually relax, as his fingers soothingly run through your hair, cheek pressed against your own now you can hear him whisper “They’re not real.”

#martin 1977 #george a. romero #vampire #martin/reader #martin/male reader #self harm mention

[straynstay]

Astronaut theory

first of all, I am confusion lol

SKZ broke me in a way that my mind is overthinking so many things that now I believe that anything from their MVs might be a sign. And may I add that Chan's recent live only made me even more confused PLS BOY IF YOU SEE THIS DROP THE THEORY YOU SAID WAS QUITE CLOSE TO THE TRUTH cause I'm nearly losing my mind, I need answers!!!!

so here I am again trying to understand their concept and trust me, it's not easy or short and I don't even know if it's right which makes me even more frustrated... also, we may have lost some important pieces to connect the whole story bc we don't know what was taken from the original MV with ot9, so yeah…

anyways... let me put a guide for you guys cause I'm not gonna write the title of the songs all the time, so AS = Astronaut; DK = Double Knot; MH = Miroh; SE = Side Effects; VS = Victory Song; YW = Yellow Wood (teaser); D9 = District 9; IAY = I Am You

Alright, let’s go back to the beginning! In I Am Not teaser we see that each one has a specific function inside the system or is doing sth very particular, Felix is dancing in front of mirrors on a rooftop (where they always are on their MVs) with a building nearby that shows a sign with FAKE on it – clearly indicating that either Felix is fake or their reality is fake, or maybe both; Changbin is in a room full of TVs like MIA; Seungmin is drawing sth that looks like a map (but I guess it was supposed to be sth else?) but he’s also the one in charge of the maps in Double Knot; we have Hyunjin trying to control a VR system, he looks quite frustrated with it, and after Hyunjin removes the headset, we hear a sound similar to when a program is being interrupted on tv and his image is frozen, probably bc he was disconnected from the main system.

and the most intriguing part: we have Jeongin in a bus – also sth reoccurring in their MVs – and he sees another Jeongin sitting on the bus stop, as if waiting for him. We all know by now that it’s a double, a clone, or whatever you may call it (like I mentioned previously on my Side Effects analysis that clearly shows they have ‘shadows’ like other selves copying their moves).

we don’t see what happens afterwards, but I’m gonna assume he finds out something is not right in the system and probably tells Chan (their leader) about it. Why I think this? Because in MIA they both sing the following lines: “Something is different, carefully look around you” (which is exactly what Chan does in D9) and “Something is changing, even if you hide it so hard, I can see it all” (which is what Jeongin does on the bus and also in Miroh, cause he’s the one in the control room, right?). But the thing is… I believe that the fake Jeongin is the one with SKZ in District 9. The double took his place after he got off the bus and is acting like Jeongin would, helping SKZ and all, but his line “better watch out” shows sth different, it seems somehow too menacing, almost like a threat – at least to me. So SKZ better watch out now cause there’s a fake among them, but SKZ is unaware

moving on.. it’s also in MIA that we see SKZ being duplicated – it looks like it can’t be helped. We know for sure that there’s a double for Chan, Woojin and Felix. In the MV it seems like Hyunjin also has a double that is watching himself from the other side of the door while the one inside the room says “Why are you staring at me again?” and then we see a surveillance camera (they’re onto Hyunjin, but Hyunjin seems to notice it).

this may seem dumb, but Changbin is duplicated in Get Cool (and like I said, any evidence is evidence lol). I don’t remember seeing Jisung, Seungmin and Minho being duplicated in any MV, and isn’t it weird that they’re the ones we see on the cage in AS?

in My Pace we have seven numbers shown behind them when they’re dancing: 137, 163, 191, 223, 241, 271 and 307. I thought they wouldn’t put this randomly so I searched what these number might mean and I found that they’re prime numbers (as you know, prime numbers can only be divided by themselves), and that prime numbers are very useful for creating keys to decrypt data by hackers. So I thought… what if Jeongin and Chan were trying to decrypt the system in order to mess with it but they need a key and Hyunjin was the key? And after DK happened, they managed to create glitches even more powerful than before? (like I explained in my theory).

anyways… moving on to Astronaut. ASTRONAUT = a person who is trained to travel in a spacecraft. But what if in SKZ concept an Astronaut is someone trained to travel their realities? And as we can see in I Am Not, Hyunjin is the one being trained in the VR apparatus.

also, he’s the one with an airplane behind him in Victory Song (and by now I think every little thing in these MVs are clues, sorry)

so what I take from this is that Hyunjin is like the tester of the realities they’ll have to face in order to escape District 9, like he is on a trial mode, if that makes any sense…

in the Astronaut MV, as we all noticed, we have some references from past MVs such as I Am You (the spinning thing); Victory Song (the red flares Chan & Jeongin are holding); Miroh (the boxes); Side Effects (the cart) and Chronosaurus (the plastics)

it’s interesting that Jeongin and Chan are the ones together when the music begins and I think this might mean sth because they’re always referenced as one, like in IAY; and Chan in AS is probably talking to MH’s Jeongin, because if they know what’s happening in the system, they might be able to keep in touch with each other even from different realities – but this is just me speculating too much!

in the MV we see 3 orbs: the 1st one is blueish with a green center; the 2nd is dark blueish/purple with a yellow center, and the last one is transparent with a black center.

so I googled those orb colors and found out that the first one may signify communication, neutrality, healing – might be applied to a master/guide; the second one may signify caution, insight, notice; while the last one may signify insecurity, being trapped or tortured. I don’t know if this makes sense, but I put it in here bc I strongly believe that these orbs represent Chan, Hyunjin and Jeongin, since they’re the ones that seem to be the focus of this storyline (and the color scheme of the scenes the orbs appear reminded me of IAY, 19 and SE)

going back to the AS MV, we also see Felix glitching like he did in MH and I was able to see in the background glasses being smashed, lightening, buildings, a road and a bridge, storm, moon, etc., and these are all elements that are present in their MVs, like showing what they already faced so far.

the cage scene made me think of District 9. When we first see it, Jeongin is the only one inside, but then we also see Han, Minho, Seungmin with him – and they’re slightly glitching, btw.

some other things happen to Hyunjin, he keeps on running, and now he’s outside on a dark road with a storm coming up – which reminded me of SE a lot, especially because of the two moons -, but he seems quite peaceful facing all those terrifying elements

he runs towards the end of the road that he can’t even see what’s waiting for him there – but maybe it’s because he already knows what happens next.

Hyunjin finds Chan in front of a door (maybe the exit?) and they all go through – to me it looks like Felix is the one about to close it, like he did with the gate in D9. Chan then shoots sth towards the sky like he did in VS (which caused a storm), but here it only makes a beam of light appear for them – as if they’re asking to go up? Like ‘beam me up Scotty’? you guys know this Star Trek reference, right? lol

and now we see the sky, but we don’t have two moons… I know it’s probably bc it’s morning, but in SE it was also morning and we saw two moons, so I’m assuming Hyunjin was able to find the finish line of the VR simulation (because I’m assuming that everything with the two moons is actually the VR)

at the end, we see Jeongin walking to the spinning thing like a glitch – like Chan also did when he went to the door, as if teleporting from here to there – and he’s alone, probably left behind. But why would SKZ leave him behind? Probably because they didn’t know he was there...

alright, so what does it all mean? I’m gonna try my best to comment everything and try to link the MVs with the lyrics to create a somewhat decent storyline.

on the released picture of the AS track list, this is what is written (it’s a rough translation, so I’m sorry if it’s wrong): “when we were happy together, we could do anything, where we chatted and laughed carelessly until dawn. Suddenly, I saw a bead… what is it? As soon as I got close, I heard a strange sound. At the end of the sound was a faint mixture of familiar voices calling my name. Without thinking, I started getting drawn by the sound”

To me, the first part means the I Am You setting. They were all happy after being free, they created their own world where they could do anything as long as they were together. In AS we see Hyunjin in this same environment and that’s also when the first orb appears. Hyunjin is attracted by the orb that could possibly be SKZ’s way to communicate with him inside the VR. Because remember, Hyunjin is there but what he’s seeing and experiencing is not real. He’s testing the ways out for SKZ. But he was so happy in that reality that he lost himself, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore. And SKZ sent something to guide him out of this fake environment as we see in AS. He then started his journey back to where the real SKZ are, going through all the tokens from the realities he’s been through (like the boxes with the confusing mazes, but that are easily destroyed bc is not real; the cart from SE, the gate from D9, etc…). What also gives him hints is how the members start to act after he begins his running in AS. After he destroys the boxes, Felix is standing there like a heroic figure, glitching with Changbin, looking almost unapproachable or as if he can’t see him. we see Chan on the floor, so Chan is probably grounded like Hyunjin.

then he sees his friends trapped inside a cage. But the thing is that this cage is really ridiculous, any of them could climb or help the other to get out of there, so I think they’re trapped bc they’re not real, it’s all a simulation, – except for Jeongin, but I’ll get to this point later on, hold on!! – and this cage represents D9.

Hyunjin runs endlessly until he reaches the road I mentioned already, and he finds Chan, they all go through the door (how could they if four of them were trapped? unless nothing of that is real) and they are all dressed in white, like when they escaped D9, dancing happily on the rooftop.

to me, after Jeongin got off the bus he realized the system’s plan and told Chan (their leader), and they came up with ideas to escape, but they needed someone that could control the reality, and Hyunjin was being trained for it – although he was frustrated with it - so they asked him to go unlocking worlds (or roads, or whatever) and he did it, but as farther he went, he started getting lost in the system bc he didn’t know who he was anymore, was he a clone already? What he’s seeing is reality or virtual reality? What’s the truth, what’s the answer?

Chan and Jeongin were able to guide Hyunjin throughout the MVs to continue with their plan, but Hyunjin’s mind was starting to lose itself, although he had a feeling that something seemed off… And Astronaut is nothing more than a recap of all what they’ve been through and Hyunjin’s journey to the unknown in order to find SKZ again and help them escape.

so what about that last scene with Jeongin? Well, I think the Jeongin in white clothes with them at the end is not the real Jeongin, and the Jeongin we see sitting alone is in fact the real one that is trapped inside the VR. Chan was guiding Hyunjin but lost Jeongin in the meantime and didn’t realize it or Chan knows it and is also a clone anything is possible, because to me the Jeongin we see in their MVs isn’t the real Jeongin since D9, like I said in the beginning of this analysis. Maybe the reason Seungmin and Minho were found on DK by the drone is bc Jeongin was with them and he’s part of the system? The others weren’t seen except for these three. I also believe this hypothesis because the gate in AS represents D9 and Jeongin is the only one moving after Hyunjin leaves, probably showing that the real one was lost in D9, but since there can’t be two “Jeongins” in a same place, he needs to wait for them to realize that they’re dealing with a fake one and come back for him.

alright, to summarize this huge analysis...

EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED DIDN’T HAPPEN!! HYUNJIN WAS DECRYPTING AND TESTING THE REALITIES (IN THE VR THING) THEY HAVE TO FACE IN ORDER TO ESCAPE AND OVERTHROW THE SYSTEM AND NOW THAT HE’S FINISHED THE TRIALS HE’S BACK TO DISTRICT 9 AND CAN SHOW SKZ THE RIGHT PATHS TO FOLLOW BUT HE DIDN’T REALISE THAT THE REAL JEONGIN IS TRAPPED INSIDE THE VR AND HE LEFT HIM BEHIND AND NOW SKZ WILL HAVE TO GO BACK TO GET HIM OUT OMGGG I CANT ANYMORE

how else would we explain Hyunjin, Jeongin and Chan’s hairstyle looking almost the same as the one they had in D9?

some other thoughts I had: what if they’re duplicating themselves to leave the clones on the system so the real ones can escape?

ASTRONAUT also has 9 letters... this might mean something?

why is Chan singing all the time “I’m not me” in the background of Mirror? can he be trusted? I’m still not sure about Chan’s role in all of this bc he seems shady like Jeongin lol sorry Chan

from the Victory Song unveil track we have Chan saying this “we are Stray Kids, the owners of Clé. Roll the dice. Our beginning is District 9. We break the frame, escape from the system, and go beyond the fixed line towards STAY. We came to listen to Victory Song. So ring the 승전가”. Isn’t it weird that he says “break, escape, go” instead of “broke, escaped, went” ?? he only says “we came” bc the question is about their entrance in Miroh and Victory Song is after it, but if everything else also happens after D9, shouldn’t the other verbs be on the past tense too?

in Chronosaurus we see someone picking up three keys from the floor and I’m pretty sure it’s Jeongin.

one key for each – Chan, Hyunjin and him. But what can they do with the keys? I thought that maybe they could go spread themselves through the realities these keys unlock and place signs for them so they don’t get lost or forget about what they’re doing, like easter eggs? there are some black balloons on SE that reminded me of 19

in TMT there’s a billboard that Chan sees saying “do what you wanna do” (a message he left for himself there? and look at the background, it’s the space)

and what about Hyunjin? I’m not sure, but maybe the scene where we see him laying on the grass at the end of SE is actually because he just arrived in that reality and lost the key of that reality on that weird pond??? is the easter egg in SE himself??? I still think it’s weird the way Jeongin looks at him and smiles brightly in this scene lol

this is just what I was able to put together, but I still have a lot of questions and a lot of concerns, but unless Chan spills the tea I don’t care if it’s hot we’ll stay clueless about all of this lol

and he says we’re not clowns… right…

#stray kids #skz #stray kids theories #astronaut #stray kids astronaut #skz astronaut #stray kids comeback #skz comeback #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin #stray kids reactions

[elatedmarvel]

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee

Word Count: Word Count: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You keep bumping into Steve Rogers, literally. 

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: None, not even a swear word (weird I know) she’s a fluffy one

A/N: Remember when I said I was going on a 2 week hiatus? Lol what a joke. Sorry life keeps happening, but I’m going to try and be better about posting. I have so many ideas! Thank you so much for reading! ~J

The day you met him was unremarkable. 

You got up, got dressed, and headed to work like any other day. But, something possessed you to stop at that coffee shop. You had gotten up early, it was a bright morning, and you were early for work. You figured one cup of coffee from that fancy coffee shop down the way could truly make this Monday morning a good morning. 

You hummed the song playing in the coffee shop softly under your breath and stared at the specials. The choices all had your mouth watering and it was hard to make a decision. There seemed to be some commotion outside as you stepped up to order, but you paid no mind, it was a daily occurrence in NY. 

The barista handed you your drink, and just smelling it made you smile. Just as you were about to take your first sip, the front window was shattered as someone was thrown through- taking you and your coffee down with him.

“I’m so sorry” he panted out of breath, quickly scrambling off of you. You barely heard him, staring as you saw your precious coffee in a puddle on the floor. The sight alone could make you tear up, never mind the cuts and bruises you could feel start to form on your body. 

A hand came into view, and the world seemed to rush back to you. You looked up and there he was. Captain America.

“You spilled my coffee” was all you could respond.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I didn’t really have a choice on the landing.” he tried to joke, clearly uncomfortable at your wide eyed gaze. 

“But my coffee…” was all you could utter again. Looking around you realized you were still sitting on the floor. You took his hand and he hoisted you up, almost pulling you off the ground. 

“Are you sure you’re ok? No concussion?” he asks as his face roams your face and he looks at your eyes. The color of your eyes and the depth of your stare made chills run down his neck. Lost in your eyes, he turns red when you clear your throat, bringing him back to the moment.

“No dilation, that's a good sign.” he awkwardly coughs. “I’m sorry about taking you down.”

“It’s ok. Are you hurt?” genuine concern laced your voice. His uniform was torn, and you were pretty sure he was bleeding. 

“I’m fine” surprised that you would ask him. No one ever asked him how he was.

You were about double check when he put his hand to his ear and murmured a coming. 

“I have to go, but if you feel drowsy or the pain is too much, you should go to hospital.” he states, already pulling away and rushing back to the fight. “I’m sorry” he shouts back at you once more, and he’s gone. 

It takes a second for your to shake out of your daze, but when you do you realize the coffee shop as gone almost back to normal. The customers were still lined up and the baristas were giving out orders. The only thing that made you sure you hadn’t dreamed it was the glass crunching under your shoes, the pitiful puddle of coffee on the ground, and the dull throb on your butt. 

You had almost forgotten about the incident by Friday morning when you stepped into your office and there it was. The most inconspicuous cup of coffee sitting on your desk, just your order and the perfect temperature.

If anyone asked, the pep in your step that day was certainly the caffeine, and not the handwritten post it note now thumb-tacked to your board. 

Thanks for breaking my fall, hope this makes us even :-)

~~~

Months later, your company had been invited to a huge fundraiser gala hosted by Tony Stark. The event was big, thrown at the Plaza with many fortune 500 companies in attendance. 

The moment you walked in, you were a little star struck. Unsure how you had made the cut for the guest list, you felt out of place. Though your boss had given you a generous allowance to spend on your attire, you’re sure your $2,000 Zac Posen evening gown couldn’t compare to the custom made designer gowns and suits that were gleaming under the light.

Spotting a close work friend and some people from your office, you made your way to the open bar and ordered your favorite wine.

“I feel so out of place” you say as soon as you join your group. Drink poised in your right hand.

“I know me too. I feel like we’re the charity.” Rachel from marketing jokes, and you instantly feel better being here. 

“What did we do to get on this list?” Jake from accounting asks. And the conversation flows from there. Jokes and small talk were had, and the more time you spent laughing with your co-workers, the more at ease you felt. 

2 glasses in and you were feeling loose, your reflexes weren’t as sharp as they should have been. When someone knocks you from behind, your drink goes flying out your hand and finds residence on your dress. The collective gasp from your group lets you know the stain is bad before you even have to look down. 

“I’m so sorry!” and you feel a sense of deja vu. Pivoting on your heels to see your assaulter, you come face to red face with Captain America.

“My wine.” was all you could mutter. If possible, his eyes widen even more.

“I’m so sorry Y/n! Bucky pushed me I swear!” he rushed out as he throws an accusatory finger at the brunette standing a few feet away with a Cheshire grin on his face. 

You shoot Bucky a small wave before glancing up at Steve again, and boy was that a mistake. If possible, he had gotten more handsome than when you last saw him. His hair was grown out slightly, and his face was freshly shaven. The suit he had on looked like it was molded for his body, and you tried so hard not to outwardly drool over him. You’re heart fluttered when you realized he knew and remembered your name. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” you smirk up at him. Eyes taking in how his blush was spreading from his cheeks to his entire face.

“I swear it was an accident! I was telling Bucky that I thought it was you, he told me to say hi and gave me a little nudge” he rambles, heart pounding under your playful gaze. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning bill. Or I’ll just buy you another one.”

At the mention of your dress, you realize that the wine was starting to sink into your dress and stick to your skin. 

“It’s ok Captain Rogers, I didn’t pay for it, and I doubt I’ll have an occasion to wear it again.” You glance around and find that your friends had moved elsewhere, leaving you alone with Steve.

“I think I’m gonna go. Get this off before it sticks anymore.” you say, trying to memorize Steve’s face. Sure it’ll be the last time you see him.

“Let me at least help you get home and make sure the stain didn’t set.” flushing when he realizes what that must sound like to you. “I swear I just want to make sure the dress and you are ok, I won’t even go into your building!”

Your heart warms at his blabbering, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“I would lo-” and you get interrupted as Pepper Potts herself gives you a smile and takes Steve’s elbow.

“Sorry to barge in but it’s time for your speech Cap” was all she said as she started to drag him away. His eyes searching for you and mouthed an I’m sorry before he was swept away and engulfed by the crowd. 

Sure enough, the band quieted as Tony Stark appeared on stage and started the thank yous of the evening. Seeing Steve on stage and watching all the women in the room undress him with your eyes was your breaking point. The wine stain had started to cool, and your heart was tearing a little at being so close, yet so far away from him. The night was over, and all you wanted was to curl up with a pint of ice cream and watch reruns of Friends.

One last look to Steve, who was chewing the inside of his cheek and watching Tony finish up his speech, and you slowly made your way through the crowd. You never noticed the pair of sorrowful blue eyes watching your departure.

The next morning on your way out the door to find some coffee, a hulking bouquet of yellow roses was waiting for you on the doorstep. Sniffing the roses as you went to put them on your table, the card bought a permanent smile to your face.  

These roses dull in comparison to you, but I hope you accept my apology.

Steven G. Rogers

~~~

It was finally Friday after the longest week. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. You’re alarm didn’t go off on Monday leaving you 30 mins late for a meeting with the board of the company, unpredicted rainfall ruined your makeup and shoes on Tuesday, the copier jammed on Wednesday so you couldn’t scan any of your contracts, and Thursday brought about a case of mild food poisoning.

You were truly done with the week, and just wanted to crawl into your bed and hibernate till Monday. But, your best friends had made plans and you figured seeing them and some alcohol could brighten an otherwise horrible, no good week. 

The music was loud, but no match for the volume at which your friends and you laughed. You could feel the tension slip away story by story and start to be replaced by a decent buzz. Volunteering to get the next round, you gently balance the three drinks in your hands. Gingerly, you swivel on your heel and right into a brick wall of a man, effectively drenching both you and him. His hands come up to your arms to help you keep your balance. 

“I’m sorry!” you both exclaim, and you could recognize that voice anywhere. 

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do was say hi” you laugh as you look up and find the shocked face of one Steve Rogers. 

“Ugh, you must hate me by now” and he covers one giant hand over his blushed face.

“At least this time you got a small taste of your own medicine.” and you gesture to his soaked white tee shirt. If he notices how your eyes linger at the transparent shirt clinging to all the hard muscle underneath, he doesn’t say. 

“I owe you a new drink. Or 3” he smiles down at you. 

“I would take you up on that offer, but my girlfriends are waiting for me.” pointing at the table of women obviously staring at the interaction. He aims a small wave and half smile at them, which they return with great enthusiasm. 

“Let me replace your drinks then.” and he turns signals to the bartender before you can say anything. 

“Thank you, I’m sure they would love to tell the story of how Captain America bought them drinks.” you tease. 

“I’m glad they won’t hate me for ruining your night out.” and you both continue the small talk. So engrossed with each other, you don’t even realize that your drinks are ready until the bartender has to slap the bar to grab your attention. 

“I’ll walk you to your table, make sure you don’t spill that on anyone else.” and you feel his hand guiding you back towards your friends. “Don’t worry, seems like these things only really happen around you.” you smirk up, and you swear his whole face starts to turn red. 

“I’m sorry again, for the coffee and the wine and your beer.” he says and sincerely looks guilty. You’re heart could just burst at his expression, and you laugh when he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“All is forgiven. Under one circumstance.” and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. His lovely face morphs into one of confusion and your palms sweat a bit more. It’s now or never.

“You take me to dinner.” and the shocked look on his face has you questioning if you really were taking his kind gestures the wrong way. Maybe he was really just trying to be nice. 

His small laugh restarts your breathing, and you can feel a smile start to creep up on your face. “You beat me.” he states. “I was gonna spill one more drink on you and then as you out” he jokes. 

“I see, well I still have drinks in my hand if you want to stick to your plan.” you grin up at him.

“Nah, I think I’m good” he smiles and leans down slowly. His eyes flicker from yours to your lips. You meet him halfway and the moment your lips touch, the world melts away. His hand comes up to caress you face and you press yourself into him more. 

The sudden cold feeling of your beers spilling onto your pants had you pulling away. A little too wrapped up in the kiss, you had tilted the beers in your hand. 

“Shoot! I’m so sorry!” you say and you try not to laugh at the irony.

“It’s ok, partly my fault. I distracted you.” he says looking down at his now damp shoes. “But I guess this means I have to ask you out.” and his cheeky smile has you actually laughing. 

“It would be my pleasure. As long as I stay dry during the date.”

“Can’t promise anything darling.” and he pecks your lips once more before going back to the bar to replace your drinks.

Going into that coffee shop months ago was the best decision you had ever made. 

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve fic #steve fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve fluff #steve imagine #avenger fanfiction

[rainnoxas]

a/n: Hmm this is the first time I’ll be posting a fic here,I might make it a daily thing. I hope you like it <3 Sorry if there are some Grammar errors.

*Realm of Darkness*

Yozora stirred awake,his whole body aching and mind spinning. His heterochromia blue and red eyes rolled underneath his eyelids before he fluttered them open to a black sky. It was oddly peaceful and quiet,the sound of waves close by.

With a soft grunt, he pushed himself into a hunched over sitting position,strands of his silver hair bangs coming in his view to which he brushed aside easily. He looked around,still unfamiliar with his surroundings and slowly got up his feet. Wind blew softly,brushing his skin. He sighed deeply and padded over to the rock stuck near the lake,his mind wondering as to where he was and why.

He took a seat on the rock and outstretched his hand trying to summon his weapon but nothing happened. He withdrew his hand in confusion and looked at it with a frown on his lips.

A strange presence appeared behind him and he quickly turned to a girl who took a step back from his quick action,(eye color) eyes staring at him in alarm.

“You can see me? Who are you? Why are you here?” She asked getting into a fighting stance. Yozora quickly got off the stone and stood before her with hands raised up to show he meant no harm at all.

“Yes I can see you. My name is Yozora and I don’t... I don’t really know how I got here..” he answered and set his arms to his sides, she slowly straightened and glared at him curiously before sighing.

“I really don’t know if I can believe you” she said softly. “What if you are part of the organization 13?”

“Organization what?”he asked completely confused which caught the female off guard. He really didn’t know who organization 13 was but judging from how she said it, they must be bad guys. (Your name) blinked slowly and folded her arms over her chest, a long look on her face as her mind searched for possible answers.

Yozora cleared his thought snapping her out of her thoughts,she looked at him with wide eyes.

“I didn’t catch your name”he said, (y/n) shrugged her shoulders with a small playful smile.

“I didn’t throw it”she replied making his lips twitch slightly into a smile which he quickly hid.

“Well I told you mine,wouldn’t it be a little nice to know yours?” He asked, she tucked a loose strand of (hair color) behind her ear and sighed.

“(Y/n)” she told him,he hummed and nodded.

“Nice to meet you (y/n)” he said and she nodded in acknowledgment. “May I ask how you got here?”

(Y/n) frowned and padded over to him, Yozora kept his eyes on her.

“Darkness took over me, I lost my way and I’m now here,alone and unable to leave,” she said and snapped her fingers. Transparent shackles wrapped around her wrists and ankles illuminated in the moonlight. “I lost my keyblade. “

Yozora stared at her,feeling a little remorse for her. (Y/n) walked past him and sat on the huge rock near the lake,light from the moon shining on its surface. The silver haired male turned and made his way over to the other side of the rock to sit next to (y/n).

“How long have you been here?”he asked. The female shrugged her shoulders,her eyes fixed on the lake before them.

“I lost count”she mumbled,he stared at her for a bit before staring ahead. “You can’t stay here for long,you know..”

“Why not?” He asked surprising himself,maybe he really didn’t want to leave (y/n) all alone in the darkness.

“You didn’t lose to the darkness like I did,I don’t know how you got here but if you stay any longer. They’ll find your and try to get rid of you or make you their vessel”

“Who is ‘they’ ?” He questioned. The female looked at him,their eyes meeting. Red-blue eyes making eye contact with (e/c) eyes. (Y/n) felt her heartbeat quicken a little.

‘Weird’ she thought

“The organization” she said and returned her gaze to the lake. “They roam around here a lot but recently it’s been quiet” she frowned. “I hope they are alright”

“I assume you are talking about your friends”he said and she nodded.

“One of my best friends promised that he will come save me” she said with a small smile before it faded into a straight line. Her eyes covered with an unknown emotion. “I’m losing hope on that”

Yozora pursed his lips before moving his gaze to the lake. They sat in silence and it wasn’t awkward at all. Mostly comforting to (y/n) because she hasn’t had company in a very long time. Once in a while, she would glance at him and play with her fingers.

“I like your eyes”she blurted out before covering her mouth shyly. Yozora looked at her in amusement and smiled a little.

“Thank you. I think yours are really pretty” he complimented, (y/n) felt heat rise up her neck. She let out a stuttered thank you and avoided eye contact with him at all.

Several hours went by, Yozora and (y/n) had decided to walk around,hopeful enough to find an opening for the silver haired male to leave the realm of darkness before it’s too late.

“I’m starting to think I won’t be able to leave this place,”he said a little discouraged. To think of it, the thought of leaving (y/n) saddened him. He may have met her a couple hours ago but during those hours, he got to know her a little better so leaving her didn’t make him feel good at all.

“There must one somewhere”she mumbled, she tried summoning her keyblade only to get a glimpse of light before it faded. She cussed under her breath and sighed.

Yozora stood a few feet from her, watching her lose her cool a little bit. He outstretched his hand and immediately his weapons were summoned. He was actually relieved they were still with him. He couldn’t summon any of them a couple of hours ago. (Y/n) stared longingly at his weapons before they disappeared by his command, her fingers twitched before she clenched her hands to fists.

“We should keep searching” she prompted, turning her back on him. Her face slowly changing into a sad expression.

Another couple hours passed,they had returned to the rock and sat in silence. Yozora stared at the lake before something flickered from the bay.

(Y/n) hadn’t noticed the flickering until she saw Yozora get up from the rock.

‘Sorry it took so long,I opened the portal for you to leave. You don’t have much time’ a soft voice spoke into Yozora’s mind.

Immediately a long line shot up from the light that was flickering and spread open to reveal a white portal.

“Yozora!” (Y/n) called after in alertness,scrambling off the rock and jogged over to him. He turned to her with wide eyes.

Black spirit mists started to roam around and come alive into heartless/Universd. The wind around them started to pick up, (y/n) shook in fear.

“Hey it’s okay”he reassured,setting his hands on her arms. Their callousness sending chills down her spine. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you,I swear”

‘Yozora,you have to leave now!’

‘I can’t just leave her’ he yelled in his mind.

(Y/n) stared at the male before him,her eyes were wide with fear. Fear of losing someone again, fear of being left alone, fear of not being able to see her friends and family again.

The darkness around them grew stronger, it made her feel nauseous. With a heavy heart, she spoke to him.

“You need to leave”

Yozora looked at her with wide eyed before frowning deeply.

“But I can’t leave you here alone”he contradicted,she shook her head. Her hands grasping onto his arms,clenching onto them softly.

“It’s alright,Yozora” she reassured, the tears that formed in her eyes visible to him. “I can’t leave yet, not without him. My best friend is a keyblade wielder who can save me,I just have to wait”

Yozora shook his head and grabbed her hand. Before she could process what was going on, the male tagged her along with him as he ran to the portal.

“Yozora!”she called after him,struggling against his grip. “Yozora please listen to me! I’m bound to darkness and I can’t escape! I wish I could but I can’t! “

He ignored what she was saying, the voice mumbling in his head helping in blocking her out. Just when they were close to the portal, (y/n) was yanked out of his grasp causing him to stumble and turn quickly.

(Y/n) gasped loudly and landed roughly on her butt. A clear barrier shimmered at contact before fading. The shackles on (y/n) showed for a split second then vanished. The silver haired male stood in disbelief,gritting his teeth in annoyance and sadness. (Y/n) got up to her feet and padded over to stand before the male, a broken look on her face. The familiarity of darkness sending shivers down her spine.

“Yozora please-“she mumbled. The male stared at her before looking down at the ground.

“There has be a way for me to save you, I don’t want to leave you here all alone and afraid”he spoke before looking back at her, her glossy eyes watched him with a frown on her lips.

“I’ll be okay, just got before the portal closes”she reassured,her voice cracking up a little. His eyes met hers,the amount of hurt, fear and sadness that swirled in them made his stomach churn in dismay. He looked at his hand and quickly took off his bracelet, a beautifully sapphire gemstone embedded bracelet.

“Here”he said handing it to her through the barrier,she softly got the bracelet and looked at him confused. “Keep it until we meet again. The next time we meet will be when I come to save you so keep it safely”

(Y/n)’s eyes glossed over again and she nodded with a sad smile.

“Okay, I trust you”

Yozora breathed out slowly before giving (y/n) one last look.

“I’ll be back for you,I’ll promise”

(Y/n) watched as Yozora turned his back on her and jogged over to the portal,he turned a little to look at her for one last time before disappearing into the brightness. The portal instantly shattered into white crystals.

(Y/n) clutched the bracelet to her chest, falling to her knees. Her hands trembling as her bottom lip quivered. His warmth immediately leaving her,only the bracelet was a remembrance of his presence.

“Yozora...I’ll be waiting for you”

#kingdom hearts 3 remind #kingdom hearts 3 #yozora #x reader #yozora is babie #messy work #kingdom hearts #kh3 remind #kh3 yozora #kh3 yo #yozora x reader

[ourshyartcollection]

H.A.W.-Tron: The Grid

Tron: Uprising is finally getting the spottlight and attention it deserves; so in honor of this I decided to do a humans are weird story about The Grid. Jacob decides to take his alien friend, Noxx, on a little vacation to the galaxies favorite deathworld, earth. But, instead of the normal sights and attractions around earth, Jacob decides to take Noxx to a little place in Center City; a little arcade named Flynn’s Arcade.

“Noxx honestly we're just going outside you don’t need-”

“We are on a category epsilon death world, Jacob!” Noxx said, their voice muffled from the three layers of high-density impact armor they wore, armor meant to be used in the vacuum of space, “Your species is madcap for living on such a disordered world!”

“Ah, yes sorry my species evolved here, now take off the armor or I’m bringing out Waffles again.” A small little bell rang as a tiny calico cat came from the kitchen. Jacob picked Waffles up and brandished her like a gun and aimed her at Noxx.

“Alright! Alright! Just put that murder fluff away from me!!” an hour later, Noxx borrowed some of Jacob's clothes and headed out. In the car Noxx queried Jacob on where they were headed.

Jacob passed a glance and smirked at Noxx, “Your just gonna have to see for yourself bud.” Jacob parked in front of an old brick building, the sounds of blips and beeps emanating from inside.

“Fly-inns Ark-aid?” Noxx’s translator wasn’t the latest model so they tried their best to read the sign.

“Close enough, but people just call it Flynn's.”

“Flynn’s? I can remember that.” They made their way inside. The inside was dark and the sounds blared even louder in here, along with the crowds of people inside, Noxx felt no sense of comfort, “This place doesn’t seem to agree with my definition of fun Jacob.”

“Good, cause we're not here for the arcade games.” Jacob grabbed Noxx’s hand and pushed through the crowd until there was a clearing, “We’re here for that.” Jacob let go of Noxx’x hand and pointed to a lone game cabinet, named Tron.

A large bulky human stood next to it, “Jacob! How’ve you been?”

“Ekco! you ISO son-of-a-bitch It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” They hugged and chatted with small talk; after they were done catching up Jacob pulled out a strange card from his back pocket, it was pure white with glowing lines covering it, “I’m going to take alien friend here for a little fun on the Grid, that cool?”

Ekco scowled a bit after Jacob said that, but it wasn’t a scowl of annoyance more of concern, “Look, Jacob humans are alright but I don’t think your alien friend over there is gonna work well with some of the ISO’s or Basics.”

“Come on if  he’s with me it’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t solve the issue here Jacob, they might think he’s-”

“They,” Jacob interjected.

“Sorry, might think They’re a virus and will try to derezz them.”

Jacob let out a heavy sigh and pinched his eyes, “Look yeah they may have more eyes and arms and a tail, but they still have the basic silhouette, what if you give me a masking code when they get their disk, huh?”

Ekco pondered for a moment, “that could work.” Ekco handed Jacob a strange transparent disk with circuit lines pulsating from it, “Your lucky I had one,” Ekco knocked on the Tron arcade cabinet, suddenly the whole wall swiveled outward revealing a set of stairs heading down, “Enjoy the Grid, try not to die.” Ekco looked at Noxx.

“Wait did that guy just say try not to die!?”

“Don’t worry Noxx I’ll watch your back,” Jacob said, trying to reassure Noxx.

As they made there way down the stairs to the basement of the building Noxx noticed that the basement floor was metallic, “Is this the ‘Grid’?” Noxx asked in confusion.

“Nope, but we're about to head there in a second.”

“What are you-” Noxx’s sensor frills on their head noticed the smell of charging photons, “Jacob what's going on-” A bright flash suddenly engulfed the room in an instant, suddenly the room was dark, “Jacob!”

“Calm down, I’m over here.” Noxx turned to Jacob to see that their clothes had changed, Jacob was now wearing a strange all-whit trench coat like bodysuit with glowing white lines on the edges and seams, “I look good right?”

“How did you change so fast?”

“I didn't, this is just what Users get when they enter the Grid.” Jacob didn’t make any sense “Users,” “Grid” it was all too strange for them, just what in the universe were these humans doing, “Look you have some too.” Noxx turned around to see a large mirror behind them, in it they got to see what they were now wearing; it was the same color scheme as Jacobs new attire, only it looked more like the priest’s robes from their home planet of Kxaxa, long and flowing shawls and sashes with a large hood. “Good, now I need to take a look at your identity disk.”

“Identity disk?”

“It's on your back.” Noxx touched their back and felt a smooth and rounded object was attached to them, they pulled it off seeing that it was some kind of flattened ring of sorts; it flashed to like as a hologram of their face appeared along with images and videos of memories they’ve experienced all throughout their life, “Careful, it a lot to take in just make sure you don’t activate-” suddenly the disk’s outer edges electrified to life with a ringing hum; startled Noxx dropped the disk which sliced the flood like it was nothing, “Don’t activate the combat mode by accident, that was what I was going to say.”

Noxx handed their disk to Jacob, “Sorry friend.”  they said apologetically.

“It's fine just let me put this in first this,” Jacob waved the device he got from Ekco, “On your ID disk, okay?” he placed the device on Noxx’s ID disk, the device dissolved into the disk, “Now put this back on,” he said Handing the disk back to Noxx.

After placing their ID disk back on a strange light began to trail all over their body, surprised the looked back into the mirror to find that the looked near-perfectly human, “H-how is this-”

“It’s one of the few gifts of the Grids technology, now come on let's head back up top I wanna show you something.” As they made their way to the front Noxx became stunned by what they saw, sky scrappers made of light and glass perfect symmetry, strange flying objects leaving trails of tangible light, and people wearing the same kind of strange clothing only the colors consisted of black base and different colored lights, “Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Jacob, what is this place?”

Jacob laughed and placed his hand on Noxx’s shoulder, “My friend, welcome to the Grid.”

Finished, I hope you enjoyed reading it and as always like and reblog and if this gets enough I’ll do another part. thank you

#tron #tron 1982 #tron 2010 #tron legacy #tron uprising #the grid #flynns arcade #center city #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are wierd #humans and aliens #Humans are space fae #humans are space orcs #space oddity #space australia #space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #scifi #science fantasy #sci fi & fantasy #fantasy

[cafeinthemoon]

Blue Velvet - Chapter II

Title: Blue Velvet Genre: Fanfiction Pairing: General Hux x oc Rating: teen | up Word count: 1671 Chapter (s): 2/10 Warnings: implied sexual content, making out, non explicit sex, some sort of emotional manipulation ???

Additional tags: original planet, original food, original alien characters

Symbols:  ✔ | ➕ | ▶ Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1

Chapter II - Remarkable

I surprised myself by catching the attentions of a mysterious man in the front row. When the show was over, I didn't want to stay and face the people of the audience, so I tried to leave the place before anyone noticed, but my plans ended up frustrated by the intriguing man, who introduced himself as a General of the First Order.

"Your name is for your life what a lightsaber is for a Jedi"

(Proverb from Odbeei)

He was in the front row, at my left. I’ve never seen him before; I had no idea of who he must be. The only thing I knew for sure is that he was someone with a considerable level of importance, by the fact that he was there. However, something made me concentrate my attention on his figure, and under the appropriate limits, I started to observe him.

He certainly was not from Odbeei. His posture, the color of his skin and stuff like that made it clear he was a foreigner. Besides, his clothing style didn’t follow the planet’s fashion: unlike the vibrant tones we used to wear, they were black from head to toe, made with heavy fabric, accompanied by leather gloves and boots, like what we see in the closet of any inhabitant of cold regions.

I don’t know how long I’ve been looking, but I was sure it was for just a few seconds. Maybe time had deceived me, because someone at his side touched his arm, and his eyes turned to the stage, finding my own with the celerity of a blaster shot. I lowered my eyes at this, aware that my face must got as red as fire. For some kind of miracle, I managed to keep singing without messing up a single note after that.

At some point when the end of the night was approaching, I had the audacity of look at his direction again. I confirmed my suspicions: he had his gaze on me, and I also noticed that, while trying not to turn it away, he leaned toward a man sitting by his side (and who must have come with him, for he followed the same dress code) and whispered something; the man gave him a quick answer and he nodded, returning to his original posture and dedicating all his attention to the stage.

***

The people responsible for the financial matters of the club had the code of my bank account, so there was no need to discuss about the cache. I have to say that I used to find it quite an unpleasentness when I dealt with less prominent clubs, but with houses like that I’d have nothing to worry about.

I walked back to the room that was reserved for me as soon as I could. I removed my makeup, changed my clothes and prepared to leave the place, without questioning if it wasn’t appropriate to stay and socialize with the people of the audience. You see, I received no instructions on this matter, as well as I had no interest in playing this part. There was not much that people like that could say or do to keep me entertained, for their behavior would always lead them to one of these three lines of action: they would talk between them and treat me like I was a part of the scenario, or they would try to flatter me (though I can’t see what they could get from that) or – the worst of all – they would try to get certain services from me that I had neither the need or the intention to offer.

Outside the dressing room, I asked a woman of the staff for the less crowded exit corridor, and after her instructions, I followed toward there. It was a long corridor, as illuminated as much as the other places, and its floor was covered by a soft carpet.

This detail didn’t let me notice I was not alone there.

- Is the mysterious vanishing a part of the show?

Though I still didn’t know his voice and my ears got a bit surprised by his foreign accent, there were no doubts about who had spoken.

I turned to find him in the middle of the corridor. I must've let a considerable astonishment show, because he smiled at the possibility of seeing me run away without answering his question, and started to walk toward me, his steps unhurried, his hands behind his back. However, like something in his way were attracting my eyes to his spot in the audience, now the same thing, trait – I don’t know how to call it – didn’t let my feet move.

It was only when he stopped before me that I noticed how young he was; it was strange that even being able to do a good examination of his appearance, I didn’t have connected his person to something like youth until now. Perhaps because of his seriousness, or the unusual black clothing, or something else. Something that had nothing to do with the superficial, but with the inner self. He was a head taller than me; shaping his face there was an impressive jawline; his rosy lips didn’t seem to be used to spontaneous smiles, which didn’t make them any less pleasing to look at; the blue shade of his eyes was almost transparent, if compared to the natives’ eyes; his hair had an exotic orange tone, and his skin was pale like the skin of someone who spent several months of the year away from direct sunlight. None of these were common to the people of Odbeei.

Finally, I could speak.

- The mysterious vanishing is just... a mysterious vanishing, Sir.

His smile widened.

- I see. Social demands scare you.

- No. They just wear me out.

The counterpoint didn't make him lose his temper.

- However, it would be a shame if you left without hearing a single word about your performance, Miss. Allow me to say that it was... Remarkable.

I know I blushed, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

- Thank you, Sir... – that was when I noticed we didn’t introduce ourselves; I saw a strange badge on his coat, right upon his forearm: the same symbol I saw on the holonews early that day – I suppose you are a member of the First Order?

He soon offered to respond.

- You are right. My apologies for not introducing myself in an appropriate way. I am General Armitage Hux – he offered me his gloved hand – I hope you don’t mind telling me your name, Miss.

I touched his palm with the points of my fingers; I couldn’t help thinking of it as trap when his hand clenched around them. But the grip wasn’t strong, and I saw no reasons to untie it.

- I believe they announced my name before my entrance, General. It’s Lilly.

Then he held my hand a little more firmly.

- No. What I’m asking for is your real name, Miss.

For a moment, I was unable to move or speak. I don’t know if what startled me was the question itself or the fact that he was aware of the name culture that existed among our artistic scene. Today I understand that this rule was never exclusive of Odbeei, but for some reason I didn’t think someone like him would care about these matters. Well, at least he must had not understand how unusual it was to ask an artist their real name.

But the question was not rhetorical, and I heard myself revealing my name to him, something I’ve never done since I came to that city.

- Lorna – I whispered.

After a long time not using it, the name my parents gave to me sounded weird to my own ears. I thought I wasn’t convincing, so I repeated it, more for myself and less for him.

- My name is Lorna – and added – It’s not the most charming name you’ll hear in your life, Sir. Now you understand why I don’t use it openly.

He smiled. He didn’t hurry to answer; instead, he lowered his eyes to our hands, united, and took mine to his lips. They were warm – not cold as one part of me insisted to imagine as soon as I could see him so close. I believe he took a bit longer than what’s usual for greetings of that kind, but the discovery of that detail about his lips suffocated any discomfort.

When he straightened up, his answer was just like his kiss.

- I understand that no name can be charming if the owner is not. Whether it is the name you were given, or the one you have chosen for yourself.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know what to think, neither about what he was saying or what he was doing; that was such an unusual man, and I think he would be in any planet he would put his feet on. I found it better to end the conversation and say goodbye.

- If you excuse me, Sir, I need to go now. I’m really tired.

That was true, but I’m not sure if my justification convinced him. Anyway, I was determined to go away at that moment, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. The General let me remove my hand from his and put his own behind his back, taking a step behind and nodding.

- Go. A time for rest is more than deserved after an exciting night like this.

He said this more calmly than it was conceivable, or maybe I was so tired as I wanted to look and thus unable to judge his tone with precision. I nodded and turned my back to him, hurrying to reach the exit door. When I first breathed the fresh air of the night, my heart calmed down and the strange sensation in my throat was gone. There were still some people of the public lingering at the club’s surroundings – probably those ones who exceeded themselves with alcohol – but I did my best to avoid them and ran to the nearest public transport station.

For the rest of the night, after spending hours awake, lying on my bed, I kept thinking about how strange that he showed no hurry in his treating. But it was only a few days after that the reason for that became clear.

He was expecting to meet me again.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars #armitage hux #armitage hux x oc #general hux #general hux fanfic #general hux x oc #ao3 #ao3 fanfiction

[shadestoryofficial]

Chapter 5 - Class in Session

I was back in the flowery meadow again, the pitch-black sky still looming overhead. There seemed to be more flowers than before, each different than the last. Fire surrounded the clearing, but I wasn’t worried for some reason. It was calming now, like I was sitting next to a fireplace, drinking cocoa in the middle of a snowstorm.

I heard a voice, muffled as if she was speaking underwater. I tried to ask who she was, but no sound came from my throat. I heard a pensive hum as if the voice were deciding what to do.

Before anything more could happen, the flames began to die down and the flowers began to retreat into the ground. I was waking up. We were not able to speak this time, a calm voice echoed. But we will soon.

*     *     *     *     *

I woke up, stretched out on a soft couch, the light of dawn streaming directly into my eyes. In front of me were two boys. One was the blacksmith from earlier. He was in what looked like a kitchen, making a drink with his back to me. He had his jacket on, the fur lining almost up to his ears, and he had taken his gloves off. He turned around, his eyes revealed to me. His left eye was a flame-like scarlet, his right eye a steel-grey.

“Tea’s done,” he said, handing a mug to the other boy, who was lazily strewn sideways across a chair.

The other boy had quite an odd look to him. His pale skin was nearly transparent. He had shaggy, dark purple hair, a platinum-blond streak fully covering his right eye. His left eye, which was visible, was blood red and had deep bags beneath it. He didn’t look too old, maybe 19, but his eyes looked like they had seen the beginnings of days, the middles of dynasties, and the ends of lifetimes. The boy seemed rather lean and bony, like a flexible skeleton, and was shorter than both me and the blacksmith. He seemed vaguely familiar.

Balanced on the bridge of his nose was a pair of black, bottom-rimmed glasses, partially concealed beneath his hair. He wore a dark-green trench coat over a thin, cool-grey shirt. A glove that seemed to be made from the same material covered his right hand. Rust-colored sweat-pants stretched over his legs, and black leather shoes kicked idly. A mauve scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth.

He had been watching me with mild interest but turned his head to accept the cup from the blacksmith. As the blacksmith handed off the tea, I caught a glimpse of his left palm, a Token glowing faintly.

This Token was a common one, “fire”. Anyone with it could create bursts of flames, heat objects just by holding them, and even sometimes control fire into swirling shapes.

The boy took the cup, moved his scarf down to take a sip, then turned back to me. “Welcome back to the world of the living,” he said. I wasn’t focused on his words, but his voice, his voice was tired, as if he didn’t have any energy left in his body. A slight, unrecognizable but old accent, tinged in his words. It had taken me until I had heard his voice to realize two things:

1: This was the boy who I had seen just before falling.

2: He was identical to Zack.

I remember watching cartoons as a kid. Every episode, the villains would show up in a wacky costume to fool the hero. The hero never saw through it until the end, but I would shout at my screen, seeing through the shoddy disguise. Surely, anyone watching me had been shouting much the same.

I hadn’t noticed until just now because most of his face was obscured. The voice was the same, though. He may have been missing the mischievous glee, and his voice was slightly deeper, but it was definitely the same as Zack’s. 

Was this some weird disguise? He had escaped due to an explosion. Was the blacksmith the one who had caused it? Why bring me here then, and have me wake up to them in disguise? Were they toying with me?

I shot up from the sofa and reached above my head to ready my HALO, but I only grasped air. Zack had repositioned himself in the chair to be sitting straight. He was watching me with interest in his eyes, and, from the way his cheek tugged slightly upwards, a smirk on his face.

“I’d recommend you calm down,” he said. “You might break something.”

I glanced around the room, looking for an exit. Through the kitchen was a door, but I would have to make it past the blacksmith. Zack was still calmly drinking his tea. I pushed off with my legs, sprinting towards the door. I ducked under the blacksmith’s arm, now ablaze, and thought I was out. Then, a frying pan knocked my legs out from under me.

“Sorry, man, but you gotta calm down,” the blacksmith was looking down at me on the floor. “We just need to talk.” He lifted me bridal-style and plopped me on the sofa. 

“Talk?” I was woozy from my head hitting the tiled kitchen floor. “What?”

Zack was still examining me from behind his asinine disguise. “Let’s start with introductions. I’m Xavier, but you can call me X. Who are you?”

I scoffed. “Xavier? Do you think I’m blind? I know that’s you, Zack.”

His eyes narrowed, his voice becoming more serious, “Zack is my twin brother, and despite our being identical twins, I assure you that we couldn’t be more different.”

“Yeah, right. And I’m the king of the lily pads.”

“You can check my upper back if you like. You won’t find the Beneluct no matter how hard you look,” He seemed mildly irritated, and I was skeptical, but I still got up to check his back. I had no clue what a “Beneluct” was, but I was sure that if I checked his back, I would find his Token.

He pulled his coat off from around his shoulders, revealing that his t-shirt was asymmetrical; the right sleeve longer than the left. I tugged the collar of his shirt down, examining his back just below his neck. No Token.

“You really are Zack’s twin brother?” I was bewildered. I went back to sit on the sofa as he nodded. “So what do you want with me?”

Xavier put his coat back on. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who-”

“Hey! I didn’t get to introduce myself yet,” the blacksmith interrupted. I had already forgotten he was here. “I’m Blaise, Blaise Fierro, nice to meet you. And sorry again for hitting you with the frying pan,” He reached out to shake my hand, revealing the Token on his right palm.

It was another common Token, “metal”, but how did he have two? That isn’t possible. He shook my hand with a strong grip, shaking my arm up and down like cooked spaghetti.

“Ahem,” X cleared his throat. “As I was saying, what do you want with us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you followed me home after asking everyone in town about X,” Blaise sat in a beanbag chair to the right of me.

“Wait. You’re the Shadow?” I shot up again. “So you are working with Zack!”

“Sit down. No, I’m not,” Xavier waved his hand at me. “I would never work with my brother.”

“But, you worked with him in the Dirillian agency, and you were at the destruction of the embassy that reignited a war!”

“I did work with him before he betrayed me. As for participating in the cataclysm at the embassy, I tried to contain the blast from causing any damage to the surrounding cities,” he replied. Then, in a barely audible whisper, “It wasn’t enough, though…”

“Oh…” I was disappointed, this was the only lead I had on finding Zack. I had failed. I may find him eventually, but not before he caused more mayhem. But then, I realized something. “Wait. If you worked with him, then you might know where he’ll go!”

Blaise made a noise, a confused expression painted across his face. “What do you mean ‘where he’ll go’? He’s been locked up in Prism for centuries.”

X’s eyes widened. “No. He escaped? How?”

“I was there when it happened. One minute I was talking to him in his cell, the next there was a flash of light and I was knocked out.”

“That’s not possible, he had a Blocker! He shouldn’t have been able to use that much power at once!”

“He probably just overpowered it,” I responded.

Xavier looked at me disappointedly. “How much do you know about Tokens and Blockers?”

I thought for a moment. “Well, Tokens were created by ancients who intertwined their souls with the innate magic of the world. After millennia of evolution, the Tokens just kind of became a rare genetic trait. As for Blockers, they interrupt that connection between the Tokened and the world’s magic.”

“That’s an oversimplification,” Xavier said, shaking his head. “You got most of the stuff about Tokens right, but they aren’t wholly genetic. Sure, anyone with a Token can trace their lineage back to that first society of ancients, but the ancients didn’t harness the magic into their souls. It was already there. They just found a way to activate a gene that enables Tokens to be used.

“As for Blockers, they don’t interrupt the connection between a Tokened and magic because it doesn’t exist. Blockers were made to hinder the soul of a Tokened, and therefore any Blocker needs to be custom-made to the Tokened. That’s why Blockers are known to fail; most that are being used are mass-produced instead of being tailored to the Tokened.”

“So, Zack’s Blocker was tailor-made? Then how did he break through it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” X frowned, seemingly frustrated to have to say that. “He may have been able to emit some light on his own, but not enough to cause damage of any kind.”

“We can worry about how he escaped later!” Blaise shouted. “We should be focusing on finding him!”

“I agree, but speaking with you two has raised more questions than answers,” I said.

“Yes, I understand. ANGEL has gone downhill in the last century,” Xavier responded. “Very well, I’ll answer what I can. I’ll need as much help as I can get to recapture Zack, and it’s better that the questions be answered now than in the middle of a battle.”

Bewildered once again, I stared at him. “Uh, okay. Let’s start with how you know I’m from ANGEL.”

“I was there when it was founded,” He said simply.

“What does that mean? And how are you and your brother alive and young today, but were both involved in a war centuries ago?”

“Ah, our Tokens are responsible for that. Beneluct and Malescambre.”

“What do those mean? Can you please speak Common?”

Xavier sighed. “As I said, ANGEL has gone downhill education-wise the last century. I assume you know that each Token has a name? ‘Fire’, ‘Silence’, ‘Strength’, etcetera? Well, those are all translations, and simple ones at that. The symbols that Tokens manifest in were used as the written language of the ancients.”

He pointed to Blaise, who held out his hands and revealed both his Tokens. “Blaise’s Tokens are ‘fire’ and ‘metal’, but those are just the Common translations of the ancient language. In reality, they are ‘Fign’ and ‘Alfeucre’. Those two translate easily to Common, but others, such as mine and my brother’s, don’t.”

He pushed his hair up, revealing his right eye. It was pitch black, a void of emptiness with a purple symbol appearing to float in the middle.

He moved his hair back over his eye. “My Token, ‘Malescambre’, would likely be translated as ‘shadow’ by most. But in truth, it is a more complex word in ancient: ‘cursed’. Likewise, while most would translate Zack’s Token, ‘Beneluct’ as ‘light’, it is more literally translated to ‘blessed’.”

My head was spinning. I was so confused. “That doesn’t explain how you’ve been alive for so long.”

“Yes, it does. Just think for a moment.”

I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Whatever,” I said. “I’ve only got one question left. Why does he have two Tokens?” I pointed to Blaise, who shrugged.

“Family thing,” he replied. “I don’t pretend to know more than that.”

I looked at X, but he didn’t seem to want to answer. “If that’s all you have, then we should start working on finding Zack,” Xavier interjected. He stood up and began walking towards the other end of the house. Blaise got up and motioned for me to follow.

“How do you propose we do that?” I asked. “You were my last lead. We’d need a psychic to find him.”

X opened a door that led into a greenhouse. He picked up a pot with an odd-looking flower and turned to me and Blaise. “It’s a good thing we have four.”

#shade #shadestory #shade story #ShadeChapter #ShadeChapterFive #original story #fantasy