Tumgik
#most vegetation burns regardless of mood
thebibliomancer · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
7 notes · View notes
yarichin-imagines · 3 years
Note
Soft Tamura headcanons please👉👈🥺
Thank you for requesting! While I absolutely love the sin that comes with these boys, I also love the soft times as well. 
Soft!Tamura Headcanons 
Tumblr media
While everyone’s favorite blue haired tsundere is known to be this brooding, ready to fight at any moment kind of guy, he does have emotions. He keeps them all inside and only lets a few people see them. Yuri being one of those people.
Since they were young, Tamura and Yuri have always been by each others side. Tamura was always looking after Yuri, quite easily taking on this older brother role. Many people deemed Yuri unstable (I see a lot of people that headcanon Yuri to be autistic and I can see where a lot of his traits could line up with that). So naturally, Tamura really began to protect him. 
He doesn’t smother Yuri though. He knows that Yuri likes to do his own thing and so Tamura lets him. Who is he to say what Yuri can and cannot do? But he does always keep an eye on the male, looking for any signs of discomfort or mood changes. He knows what triggers Yuri or what sends him into fits, so he does keep close to him to watch out for anything.
But because he is so used to looking after Yuri, if anyone else comes into his life, he naturally takes on the protective roll. When Tamura started to like Yacchan, we could see where he would become a little overbearing. It’s just in his nature.
Tamura really likes to watch the sunset. It gives him such a sense of ease and comfort. He could be extremely stressed or worried but all of that washes away as he watches the sun disappear behind the horizon. When he likes someone, he would most likely bring them here to confess. He would be hella nervous but the minute he looks at the warm colors that paint the sky, he would relax. 
Picture this if you will: Tamura leaning against the rails of the rooftop, his face turned towards the sunset, the warm colors painting his face. He’d be smiling as he told you how he felt, not once turning to look at you. Until the end that is. He would turn his body slightly and extend his hand, wanting you to take it. If you did, he’d pull you against him, caging you against his chest and the railing, hugging you from behind. He would ask you how you felt as the two of you gazed into the sunset.
He also really likes music. Tamura is the type to make a spotify playlist just for you. Every song that made him think of you. And it would be in order of how he felt. The first song being one of excitement and anticipation from how he viewed you entering those club doors that fateful day. The last song would be one suggesting how he hoped for forever with you.
Tamura would really love to bring you home to meet his parents. When a school break was approaching, he’d be so giddy at the idea of you coming home with him and seeing where he grew up. He would take you by all of his favorite places and let you eat all of his favorite foods. He really is just a ball of excitement!
He’d definitely be the one to wake you up when the first snow comes late at night. He’d knock on your door, demanding you to come see it with him. When he takes you outside, he would watch your expression, copying it to his memory. Depending on if the two of you were dating, I could totally see him pulling you in for a kiss, his cold nose bumping against yours.
Tamura kind of likes doing laundry for some reason? It’s almost therapeutic to him. He puts on a playlist and just beings to fold. He also does Yuri’s laundry because let’s face it, if he didn’t do it - who would?
One time when Yuri got sick, Tamura attempted to make soup to help him keep something down. But he ended up burning the broth, overcooking the rice while also managing to undercook the vegetables. It was a major blow to his ego. Don’t let this man in your kitchen unless you have homeowners insurance.
I like to think that he got into a multitude of fights before and during his academy days. Hell he probably still gets into them. But regardless, he knows how to patch up injuries. So if you get hurt, Tamura is your dude. He will bandage you up nicely.
Overall, Tamura may be a rock on the outside, but on the inside, he has a multitude of strong emotions. Many are platonic and many are romantic. It all depends on who you are to him for him to release those emotions to the surface. 
I hope you enjoyed and I look forward to more of your requests in the future!
- Admin Pinky
115 notes · View notes
ready-to-obeyme · 4 years
Text
[OM!] Domestic Ship Meme: Lucifer/MC
[Domestic Ship Meme]
Notes: GN! ‘you’, fluff!!!! Lucifer really b living in my head rent free
--
who reaches out to new neighbors
Between the two of you, it’s gonna have to be you. Unless Lucifer somehow has something to gain from being friendly with the neighbors, he’s not that motivated to make an impression. And if you aren’t really up for it, he doesn’t mind either. The two of you can be content with just an occasional wave and small talk with the neighbor when you chance upon meeting them. If you’re really eager to reach out to the neighbors… cool. He’ll come with and greet them if you want him to. 
who remembers to buy healthy food
Lucifer cares a lot about the fact you get your proper nutrients, especially when you don’t. 
“MC, you can’t persist on cup noodles every night when I come home late.” Insists on buying vegetables so you can at least put them in your ramen to get vitamins to live if you don’t want to cook. He makes it a habit to have a balanced meal every time. 
If you’re as health conscious as he is, you make sure to pack lunch for the both of you before you go about your day. :)
who remembers to buy junk food
YOU DO, BABY! 
Every time you go shopping for groceries with him, you both pick out produce and everything you need for meal preps, but you always backtrack to grab bags of chips or candy that catches your attention. He watches you with mild exasperation as you scrutinize whether to grab the salsa or the guacamole for the chips and end up just getting both. 
He grumbles a little less if you slip in a bag of his favorite snack though. (A bag of licorice mayhaps?) 
who fixes the oven when it breaks
Both of you are capable of learning how to fix the oven when it breaks. It probably does end up being a joint effort regardless. As to whoever BROKE the oven, it’s probably Lucifer. Baking is his weakness; he doesn’t understand why. 
who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)
You water the plants and Lucifer feeds the pet(s). You will always have Cerberus-- always. Whether you have more is really up to your and his discretion, but he’s pretty on top of making sure Cerberus has his food every morning before he leaves. He could water the plants too, if you wanted him to, but he thinks it’s cute to come home to you watering the hydrangeas at the front door or the succulents at the windowsill. It gives you a very nurturing vibe, even if you don’t mean to, and it makes him feel a little soft every time. 
who wakes up earlier
Lucifer does. This really depends on what job/occupation you currently have, but for the most part, he wakes up at the crack of dawn naturally anyways. Doesn’t matter when he sleeps, his internal clock is set for ‘when the sun rises’ (which is funny, considering how the Devildom doesn’t have a sun). 
You think it’s horrible until you realize he can choose to sleep in when he wants to, but Lucifer honestly doesn’t mind. He likes waking up early so he can press kisses onto your forehead, careful not to wake you up but laughing under his breath if you stir and mumble in your sleep. He’s absolutely besotted with you, and it really shows in the way he holds you in the moments before he starts the day. 
who makes the bed
You do, mostly because you wake up later than he does… and because he doesn’t like it when the bed isn’t made. 
“Why make the bed when we’re going to end up sleeping in it anyways?”
“Yes, why wash Cerberus if he’s going to get dirty again.”
“3:” 
Just make the bed. He’s ridiculously pleased when he comes back home to a neat bed, especially if you were not in the habit to do so before. If you weren’t really happy to do it before, he says “please~?” in a way you swear you fucking see sparkles in the background and you give up. (you are weak for the man)
who makes the coffee
(flashback to Hell’s Coffee chat)
Lucifer lives off of coffee, so more often than not, he ends up making the coffee. He also tends to wake up a LOT earlier than you, so the duty usually falls to him anyhow. If you drink coffee, always makes a cup for you before he leaves with the right amount of sugar and cream. 
On the day you’re both off, you tend to both sleep in, and therein the coffee making responsibility goes to you, because Lucifer certainly isn’t going to get out of bed any time soon. You tried making coffee for him on a work day, which basically meant you tried to wake up EARLIER than him. Not the best idea you had, but when he found you asleep on the dining table with the coffee made hot, best believe he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and said ‘thank you’ before sending you back to bed. 
who burns breakfast
Assuming both of you are decent at cooking, you’re more likely to burn the breakfast mainly because Lucifer doesn’t eat breakfast to begin with. 
“What happened to three balanced meals a day?”
“I never said ‘three,’ I just said they had to be balanced.” 
“>:(“ 
It’s his fault though. Every time you make breakfast, he distracts you by coming into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss on the back of your neck. Or, if it’s on a weekend, he tugs you back into bed and you forget about the bacon on the stove until it’s basically charcoal. 
how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house
Lucifer tries not to wake you up before you need to, so he’s usually silent when leaving the house. When you do stir awake and sleepily ask him if he’s heading off to work, he never fails to press a kiss to your cheek and say, “I’ll see you soon.” He’s always the most tender with you in the early light of the day, willing to indulge you a little if you tug him back into bed for a snuggle or press kisses onto your lips until you’re satiated. 
If the both of you are awake, he’ll say something along the lines of “I’m heading out to do something. I’ll be back in an hour,” and if you’re not busy, kisses you and leaves. 
how do they greet each other when one of them gets home
“I’m home,” Lucifer says quietly, just in case you’re already asleep-- but you never are. He finds the kitchen light on with you sitting at the dining table with a book in hand, and you smile up at him when he walks through the door and places down his keys. 
“Welcome back,” you tell him, like every night. You tug off his jacket and press a kiss onto his lips as he tiredly gives you a smile. 
--
Rarely, you come home later than he does, but it happens. 
“Did you eat dinner yet?” Lucifer asks, once you set down the keys and shrug off your coat. “Or would you prefer a bath first?” 
“Did you learn that phrase from Levi?” You tease, watching him roll his eyes good naturedly as he stands from his chair and makes his way to you. “I don’t know,” you respond, as he snakes his hands around your waist. “Maybe a bath if you want to join me.”
His hands dip further down. “If you insist,” he says, dropping his head until he trails his lips along your neck. 
The both of you pause at the sound of your stomach growling. 
You look sheepishly at him as he gives you an amused quip of his lips. “Maybe…” You suggest hopefully, “Dinner in the bath?” 
Lucifer throws his head back and laughs.
who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often
With Lucifer, romance is never dead. If something catches his eye on the way back from work, he has no problems taking a quick stop and buying a bouquet from the florist so you can decorate the house with it or add another succulent to your collection. His gifts always mean he thought of you-- would you like this necklace? Didn’t you say you needed another pen the other day? How much chocolate is too much for a gift? (it’s never too much luci)
However, you refuse to be beat. You throw him a reverse uno card and buy him small gifts or trinkets that catch your eye and think he’d enjoy it. There’s not a lot he actually wants, so your gifts are more fun, something to make him laugh throughout the day or remind him of you. He brings a lot of the trinkets to work with him and look at them
who picks the movie for movie night
Both of you switch off on choosing a movie. He’s not that picky with movies. If it’s horror movies you want to watch, he’ll be there for you to hide behind. If it’s a rom-com you want to watch, expect a few chuckles from him. 
their favorite kind of movie to watch
Lucifer likes watching the classics and prefers new movies that are thought-provoking. Thrillers or psychological movies like Black Mirror or Annihilation are very fascinating to him. He’s impartial to most genres, though, unless it’s completely and utterly inane. He prefers movies with some thought or some emotion-evoking aspect to it-- SUBSTANCE. 
who first suggests a pillow fort + who builds the pillow fort
You suggest it and drag Lucifer into building the pillow fort with you. He thinks he enables you too much; you agree with him.
“Who did you get this idea from? Mammon?”
“No, of course not! I got it from my six-year old niece.”
“...”
Still, you end up in the pillow fort, covering it with a blanket and end up eating snacks and napping together in it. 
You don’t see him complaining about it afterwards. 
who tries to distract the other during the move
Lucifer allllll the way. The man loves to tease you whenever he has the chance, so if he’s in the mood, would definitely try to distract you by placing his hand on your thigh and just subtly tracing his hands over them. Acts innocent when you scold him, but continues to do lingering touches on your thighs, waist, neck until you either give in and be completely distracted by him. He knows when to stop though, like if you’re actually very interested in the movie or aren’t in the mood.  
who falls asleep first
Lucifer does if the both of you go to bed at the same time. Tired during the day, he knocks out pretty much immediately if he lets himself relax in your arms and in your presence. Which is fine by you. If Lucifer had a ritual to take a moment to cherish you in the early hours of the day, you take the time in the moments before you sleep to kiss his brow and sweep his hair from his eyes, whispering ‘I love you’s’ against his temple in the quiet hours of the night. 
who is big spoon/little spoon
Lucifer likes being a big spoon, of course, but you ALSO like being HIS big spoon, so it’s a trade-off. You enjoy being in his arms and being the little spoon: you feel protected, his arms around you, his head either on top of your or his nose buried in your hair. Being a big spoon lets YOU do that to him! 
Usually, you sleep on his shoulder, or you sleep facing each other. You really let the night decide whether you end up big or small spoon, but you tend to end up small spoon naturally. Sometimes, when you wake up in the middle of night, you turn to make him big spoon, and he gets a little embarrassed when he wakes up like this (but again, no complaints here! <3).
337 notes · View notes
Text
Meeting and Dating Sgt. Hartman
Tumblr media
(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
- You met Sgt. Hartman while stationed as a nurse at the boot camp. You supposed that working in basic training was better than on the battlefield; especially since this would be your first gig as an army nurse, but the comparison did little to ease your nerves. You were still going to be taking care of a bunch of untrained men floundering around with dangerous weapons and equipment. 
- Regardless of your worries, you arrived at the camp early in the morning with your bags all packed and your hands eager to do something. As you stepped outside of your car, you were met with the sight of the older man, hands behind his back and a straight, almost scowling expression on his face.
- His face softened upon seeing you; though it didn’t do much to make him any less intimidating. The man introduced himself, ushering you to follow behind him as he began to give you a tour of your “new home”. After he showed you around, you were taken into the barracks and introduced to everyone in typical Hartman fashion. 
“Private cowboy, where's the infirmary,” He’d bellowed out and the man; Private Cowboy, quickly answered the shouted question. “Precisely! Now, if one of you sacks of shit gets your dick blown off by your rifle, this is who you will go and see! Is that clear?”
“Sir yes sir.” You’d nearly shouted alongside them. 
- The man demanded obedience, oozed authority, and held enough power in his hands to make a persons knees buckle beneath them. He was old enough to be your father and yet, there was something about him that just drew you in. 
- Unbeknownst to you, the drill sergeant was equally attracted to you as you were to him. 
- Now Hartman hasn’t had to flirt for a while so he’s a bit rusty. His attempts to compliment you are stunted and awkward and he isn’t quite sure what to talk to you about. But over time he gets back into the swing of things.
- Believe it or not, he used to be quite the catch when he was younger; and while he’s a few years past what you’d probably consider his “prime”, deep down he’s still just as suave and …creative. 
- It’s going to take you a while to realize exactly what he’s trying to accomplish, mainly because; in the beginning, you can’t really spend a lot of time together. He’s a busy man and even if you were to see him a lot, you most likely wouldn’t assume your superior; who’s that much older than you, is trying to hit on you. It would seem like more of a “a girl can dream” moment. 
- As I mentioned before, when you’re first starting to actually get to know each other, you aren’t really able to spend a lot of time together. He decides to do something about that, requesting that you come with him and his recruits when they go to do field training or target practice; “so you can be right there if something happens to them”. 
- Most of the time, you’re just sitting and watching but when he’s able to, he’ll stand by your side and make conversation, throwing in some slightly suggestive and ambiguously flirtatious comments. He doesn’t want to lay it on too thick in front of the “maggots”. 
- It’s only when the two of you get some alone time together that you can have some genuine banter. You flirt light heartedly, in a way that many would perceive as joking though it’s not a joke to either of you. He teases you and you tease him right back, something he’s quite fond of. 
- Well, it all comes to a head on New Years. You’re sitting in your office, finishing up some paperwork and feeling just the slightest bit homesick when you hear a knock at your door. 
- It’s obviously him, and while you figured he might stop by, the champagne he’s holding is certainly a surprise. Regardless, you soon find yourself sitting on your desk with him standing beside you, the both of you a little tipsy; just enough to make you feel warm and loose. 
- The remarks you exchange are a blur. All you can remember is watching in a heated daze as he leans in closer and closer until finally he seizes your lips in his. Long, slow, and slightly clumsy, the two of you kiss for what seems like forever, your arms wrapping around his neck as his fingers dig into your hips. 
- It’s a few minutes past midnight when you finally break apart and you shyly wish him a happy new years, unsure of what to say besides those few words. He merely chuckles huskily and pulls you into another kiss. 
- And thus begins your relationship with the master of maggots. 
- Modest and reserved pda. He’s got a bit of a reputation to keep up so most of your affection is gonna happen behind closed doors.
- He may be a hard man but he’s soft with you; surprisingly so at times. If any of his cadets saw the two of you when you thought you were alone, they’d die of shock right then and there.
- Long, hard kisses.
- Swats to the butt in private. You stand before him with a beautiful bottom and expect him not to touch it? You ask too much of him. He’s only human.
- He likes to keep a hand on the small of your back. It’s sort of a show of ownership; for lack of a better word. He wants everyone to know that you’re off limits without outwardly telling them.
- He’s a fan of pet/nicknames if you couldn’t tell. You get called a lot of different things: sweetheart, honey, darling, sugartits, etc.
- He’s not a huge cuddler but he’ll sling an arm around you and let you lay your head on his arm even though it makes the appendage annoyingly fall asleep.
- He’s an old fashioned man; a Christian one at that, so a want for domesticity has been instilled in him from a young age. Let’s hope you’re willing to be a little homemaker because that’s what he’s expecting and hoping for.
- Making breakfast for him in the morning. He always gives you a “mornin sunshine” and a side hug when he walks into the kitchen.
- Straightening out his tie for him.
- Sitting on his desk and putting his hat on when he isn’t wearing it. It earns you a little smile every time you do so.
- Kisses on the temple.
- There’s going to be long stretches of time where you don’t see each other in person, it’s a part of the job and you’ll just have to accept it. It sure makes for some great reunions!
- He gets all proud whenever you praise him; especially for his medals and things of that nature. He puffs his chest out that slightest bit, straightening his shoulders as he tries to act modestly.
- Being there for all of his recruits ceremonies and congratulating him for making “another fine batch of soldiers”. 
- Watching his drills in your spare time. Even if you aren’t fond of some of his particular methods of earning respect and shaping his students, you can still admire him and the power he holds.
- Like I said, you may not like some of the ways he treats some of his cadets but you sure have to stifle a laugh when you pass by every now and again. You feel like a bad person but you can’t help it; he’s a funny, raunchy man.
- Late night meetings in your office. Try to remember to lock the door behind him.
- He’s got wonderfully rough hands and that’s all I’ll say about that.  
- He enjoys being able to make you laugh. He’ll tell you jokes, poke your sides, throw you over his shoulder; whatever it takes to make you giggle and squeal.
- You get away with a lot of things no one else could. You think anyone else could insult or talk back to this man without having their holes resized? No ma’am, not a chance.
- Few people are graced with his smile and you are one of those few people. It may be a small one but it still feels like an honor every time you see it.
- He’s been a drill instructor for quite a while so he’s certainly got a few stories to tell. They range from violent to embarrassing; for someone else, to just plain funny; you’ve got a tale for every mood.
- Hearing the stories behind his scars and tattoos. He likes the way you trace your fingers delicately across them while listening intently to what he has to say.
- He may or may not have gotten your name tattooed on him. 
- If you want to go out and do something, he’s one old man that can handle it. He enjoys being in the great outdoors so hiking and things of that nature are right up his alley.
- Barbecues. He will tease you if you’re vegetarian or vegan; all while grilling vegetables and veggie burgers.
- He prefers dates where the two of you can be alone together. It’s nice to get away from the stupidity of his cadets and from your hectic work.
- Sitting in his lap after a long day. He likes holding your hip in his hand and giving it a light squeeze every once and a while, usually after he makes some teasing remark.
- Nighttime brandy and bourbon. It’s a nice way to wind down before bed.
- Sneaking around the camp with each other. You’ve shared several kisses behind shut blinds and secluded corners.
- Hunting, fishing and camping trips. He’s a typical middle aged man who likes to kill and you’re his girl so you’re always invited to join him.
- Getting taught how to shoot and assemble guns. He thinks it’s a skill that everyone should know, even a pretty little things like you. 
- Trying to get him to ease up just a little bit; at least in some cases. He may be a professional drill instructor but you’re a professional human and you know when some people require something other than humiliation to learn.
- A jealous man. He feels a bit silly whenever he gets that burning feeling inside but he reasons that you’re his woman and he has the right; especially when it’s some young stud flirting with you. Usually, he’ll narrow his eyes at them and turn on his intimidation, asking them where they’re supposed to be and ordering them away as soon as whatever you needed to do with them is finished.
- He can always tell when you’re only trying to be nice and/or do your job so he never gets angry at you. He’ll just tell you not to be so sweet all the time and/or walk out without another word.
- A bit overprotective; he hears about anything and he makes sure to handle it. He doesn’t often use violence but his presence is enough to spook people. Rest assured, if it’s one of his cadets that’s causing problems, they’ll be running laps from sunrise to sunset.
- You get a whole lot of respect; at least to your face. No one is ever gonna start trouble with you, not when they know who you’re with. The most you’ll get is some young kid trying to push his luck but Hartman makes sure to squash that fast.
- He gets out most of his frustration at work so the two of you rarely fight; at least not aggressively. If there’s an issue then you’ll argue and resolve it within the hour, that’s just the way he is. The only time the two of you have a serious fight is when you’re adamant on trying to change the way he does things.
- If he’s upset you then he’ll apologize for that but trying to get an apology for anything else is like pulling teeth. He has a hard time admitting when he’s wrong though it isn’t too much of a problem since he rarely is in the wrong.
- He doesn’t tell you that he loves you very often but he does so on occasion, usually on your anniversary and during long goodbyes; things like that.
- As a god-fearing, old fashioned man, he intends to make an honest woman out of you as soon as he can. He’d be stupid not to.
84 notes · View notes
imma-potatoo · 3 years
Text
Property
Blond Janus AU
Summery: Now that Virgil is out of the picture. The Darks have decided that Janus needs to be put in his place.
Set just after AA
Warnings: Drugging, passing out, minor panic attack, forced branding, unsympathetic dark side oc, sympathetic Janus, questionable Virgil, gagging, tying someone up, graphic abuse, food, rats, burning, Apathy is really really creepy, starvation, ask to tag
BE CAREFUL READING THIS ONE!!! This made me have to take multiple breaks during the writing process. I'm serious. Read the warnings.
Word count: ~4319
AU masterpost
------------------
Janus was nervous, Janus was always nervous or scared or something along those lines. But this time it was worse. He felt watched and studied like an animal in a zoo. Virgil had only disappeared a few days ago, he hadn’t been seen since and it was starting to worry the teenager.
Janus slowly creaked out of his bedroom, the ancient floorboards creaking and groaning in protest as the side lightly pressed his weight on them. Idle chatter filed in from somewhere else in the enormous house. The others were loud that day, yelling and screaming, Wrath had always been particularly touchy but today he was just being ridiculous, Apathy had been particularly invasive too. Watching him from the corners of rooms and flicking his lighter open whenever the yellow side got close, and Depression was just gone; no clue where he went.
Janus felt almost like the callous side was planning something, but he needed to eat something. His stomach was churning and painfully seizing in with every breath as it started to digest itself. He hadn’t been able to eat anything in three days, which was a problem, he was beginning to feel faint and weakened. Chilling shivers shot down his spine at the very premise of being completely vulnerable to the much stronger sides. So regardless if Depression had been weirdly sparse that day, or if Apathy was planning something, or if Wrath was going to ambush him in the central hallway, he needed food.
The yellow side kept his steps even and slow, his breath even slower as his fight or flight response kept screaming in every step. But he kept himself calm as he could, the yellow side glanced through the double doorway, seeing Depression walk through the living room to the ballroom; the yellow side waited in bated breath for the blue side to enter the black and gold covered room. Janus managed to slip past unnoticed. He peeked carefully into the kitchen, listening for any of the other hallway doors to open. The large old house settled with an ear-shattering crack. Janus could feel his heart rate spike, he edged the kitchen door open carefully with a creak accompanying it.
Empty.
Sneaking past the door quietly, Janus started to dig around in the cabinets. Janus felt what little pride he had fallen as he caved to the gnawing feeling invading his every thought. Normally he could become numb to that feeling that eroded his stomach, every single night he could practically taste the savory flavor of steak and potatoes or the intoxicating smell of hickory-smoked salmon or even the captivating scent of buttered vegetables that the others ate but he wasn’t permitted to. It made his stomach twist with every trace of the alluring scents.
He took wary steps to the cabinets, opening them softly. Most of the food that he had access to was either stale or coated in black and white mold like a charmel apple at a carnival fair. Janus could feel the burning bile rise in his throat when his ungloved hand grazed the infected food. Deep shivers ran down the sides spine when he touched something furry at the back of the cabinet.
 Its fur was as black as the mold on the food, the fibers matted together with oozing brown puss. Its face was narrow where its brown stained nose led up to glaring beady dark crimson eyes. The teeth were sharp as knives, they pushed past the edge of the creature's mouth, dripping thin strips of saliva.
Janus jumped back with the creature bared its teeth and let out an unnatural sound of threatening intent. He crashed into the counter when wide afraid eyes as the demon-like critter scampered off with the last of the food, sliding down to the cold tile when the room started to grow fuzzy and started to spin. The young side put his shaking hand to his chest and followed the breathing exercises his father taught him. Eventually, the sound of his own breathing didn’t overstimulate his ears, the scratching of the other rats didn’t fill his brain with mind-numbing static, the sound of a lighter flicking open and closed didn’t set off his fight or flight, and the spinning of the fan above him allowed fo- wait….. What lighter?
Janus raised his head slowly, at first seeing the polished dress shoes, then the perfectly pressed jet black slacks, the bold white dress shirt illuminating the room better than any dim bulb could, the black suspenders a harsh contrast. The yellow side brought his eyes up to meet the other sides.
The cold unfeeling black eyes of the apathetic side looked down upon the teenager. His face empty and devoid of any emotion, he was eerily still, the only movement his repeated opening and closing of the lighter. The clicking of the lighter shutting blended with the scratching of the rats in the walls as Janus scrambled backward. His nails scraping against the cracked tiles, already stained with blood but cutting open his fingers none the less on the sharp edges, Apathy watched in twisted enjoyment as the yellow side hit the wall with a small groan. “A-Apathy! When did you get here?”
The taller side chuckled lowly, it was fake of course. Everything about Apathy was fake. “Don’t stutter, what are you, Three?” the blank side mimicked a smile, “ I came in when you were using those ridiculous breathing exercises from Paranoia” He looked Janus up and down, “well? Get off the floor Deceit.” The younger side stood up, gripping the counter for extra stability as his legs tumbled and shook. Forcing himself to keep his breathing even and calm, Apathy was known for his dramatic mood swings, one second he’ll beat you to the pulp, the next he’ll help clean and tend to the wounds that he caused “Are you hungry?” Apathy looked down at the yellow side, who barely reached his shoulders, the null side was tall. And imposing, with far too much strength compared to the thin, gaunt, and weak in muscle mass; Janus. Mostly due to the younger side being denied proper nutrition.
“Wha-” Validity didn’t even get to finish his sentence before hearing a low guttural growl coming from the taller side.
His teeth were bared, eyes burning ice into the young side, “Answer the question.” Apathy hissed through his teeth, his eyes glowing a blaring sign of danger which Janus couldn’t see. Janus nodded, his eyes drifted down to avoid the null ones blaring into his soul. The taller side made a small note of feigned happiness, “Sit. I’ll get you something.”
Janus knew better to say no to the second in command, he hopped slightly and sat on the counter with less than a second thought, trying to watch what Apathy was doing but being unable to see due to the height of the side. Janus eventually gave up and resigned to just watch him prepare it.
With his focus placed on the food that the null side was preparing, he missed when Apathy slipped something into a glass of water, but all he could focus on was the starch-filled baked goods that filled his senses. Jannus watched as Apathy sliced two slices of bread from the loaf, flinching when the knife hit the cutting board, the null side opened the fridge and grabbed a few more items before assembling the sandwich, “Have you heard anything from Paranoia?”
Janus rubbed his arms, flinching when he rubbed a bruise a little too hard, “no. I haven’t. I haven’t heard anything from da- Paranoia.”
Apathy hummed slightly, a twisted grin hidden from the yellow side. “Hm, well. I guess he didn’t love you as much as you thought he did.” Janus tightened his grip on his arms. His brow furrowing in thought and concentration.
Janus felt his throat close up, his eyes starting to burn, the hair on the back of his neck standing up in a way that Janus feels is painfully obvious. Apathy could sense the smaller side tense up and grow quieter. He made a mental note of the effects.
“Well! It’s no matter! You’re a dark side anyway. Not like you could ever be accepted anyway!” Apathy turned around with a completed peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of water. “Here. take it” Apathy stared at him with eyes cold and unfeeling. His grin was too sharp, too much teeth, his eyes were filled with too much malice to be completely trusted.
Janus knew this. But Janus was hungry. So so hungry. His stomach lurched at the promise of food, practically begging him to just reach forward and grab the plate. So against his better judgment, Janus took the plate. His mouth nearly dripped with saliva at the very premise. And it wasn’t coated with mold, or rat droppings, he wouldn’t get violently ill even though he tried his very best to prepare the food with the utmost diligence. Janus only spared Apathy a single glance before he took a huge bite.
The taste of strawberry jam and peanut butter overwhelmed his senses. He barely even chewed it before swallowing and taking another huge bite. He could feel Apathy’s eyes on him but couldn’t bring himself to care as he devoured the sandwich like it might be his last meal. To be fair, every meal might be his last in the dark household.
The sandwich was gone as soon as it was given to him, his stomach still ached for food but Janus knew that that would be enough for another day, or two if he really pushed it. He barely had a chance to take a breath before a tall glass of water was shoved in his hands. Two hesitant eyes looked up at the taller side. The contact he was wearing burned his eyes, made it hard to see, made sneak attacks too easy. But he managed to make eye contact with Apathy, eyes still cold and emotionless. Not even an ounce of fake kindness as Apathy starred at the Deceit. His mind was blaring warning signs, everything was too much. The fluorescent lights messed with his already messed up vision but he could tell that this was wrong. Everything was wrong, his mind was screaming at him to stop. Stop, don’t drink the water. He brought the glass to his lips, mind still screaming at him that this would only end in tears and pain and heartbreak. That he should run, run back to his room and lock the door, try to break the iron bars that held him inside like a pathetic pet only to play with and hurt. The water was cool against his throat, it tasted sweet, like berries. He wanted to stop drinking the liquid but his body begged him to continue, to accept the water with a feigned smile and fearful eyes. And he did.
Janus finished the glass, panting slightly. He looked up at Apathy, “Thank you…” Apathy looked down at him with a blank expression.
“No need to thank me, I’m just helping a fellow dark side.” Janus nodded as he hopped off the counter and started for the sink. He took in a large breath as the room started to spin. His mind growing fuzzy as he started swaying back and forth, his breath growing heavy as he started to hyperventilate. The glass fell from his hands, shattering on the floor. His breath started to quicken, even more, eyes watering as he stumbled, attempting to run away with all his strength. Trying to reach the kitchen door to run to his room. His mind was screaming for him to run. Running has saved him so many times. But he couldn’t.
His feet tripped as the room continued to spin, crashing to the cracked floor with a yelp. The tiles slitting open his hands and ripping his shirt as he tried to crawl away. His eyes filled to the brim with horror as his limbs grew still against his will. He tried to move but his limbs cried in protest. They burned an aching fiery pain as the yellow side tried to crawl to the door. All while Apathy watched in twisted fascination. 
Janus went still, still very much awake but immobile. The haunting clicking of Apathy’s black dress shoes was haunting as the side knelt down and lifted his chin, he was entirely dependent on the apathetic side and it was terrifying. His wide ghastly eyes were fogged as he made eye contact with him. The kitchen fan above whurred at the same pace it always did as Apathy said something he couldn’t make out. Shaking and trembling in fear as tears made their way down his cheeks to the cold floor.
He succumbed to unconsciousness.
-------
Janus was hot. He was overwhelmingly warm, he could feel his hands bound together with tight constricting knots, like a snake; Janus was aware of the irony in that comparison. A thick piece of cloth was shoved in his mouth, acting as a gag. Janus slowly slid open his eyes, the muscles spasming at the effort. Janus was used to being so cold that his body was sluggish and couldn’t pick up a pencil let alone defend himself, but the burning heat of this room was almost unbearable. Janus looked up from his position on the ground.
He was in the dark side boiler room, it was behind the fireplace. And was dark besides the glowing flame from the furnace, the air smelled of burnt flesh; which made Janus cringe from old memories, the ceiling was sagging slightly too. Fallen behind in disrepair due to no one wanting to fix the stupid thing. Janus remembered what led him to his arrangement too.
His own stupid choices. He never should’ve accepted anything from Apathy. He should’ve denied every offer of food or help from a side that constantly burned and beat him, he should have run away to his room at the first sight of the taller side; he knew that the side was dangerous with his temper, he should have defended himself, he should’ve left to go find Vee not try to deal with everything himself. he should A huge bubble of shame grew in his gut as the side stared into the fuming furnace in front of him. It was old. Very very old. Covered in rust and an antique model in construction, Janus could see the burning embers fuming from inside, entranced by the dancing flames.
He was brought back to reality with the door opening and closing with a click. The yellow side looks up with little surprise to see Apathy, he shifts away from the side as he draws closer. The clicking of the dress shoes stopping when Apathy was only a few feet away, “Look at me.” The voice was so cold and uncaring. Janus shakily raised his head but couldn’t make eye contact, in response the null side kicked him in the ribs harshly. A sharp intake of breath and a whimper of pain was muffled by the gag. The kick sent Janus to the floor, landing on his side. Janus could feel the large bruises start to form amongst his sides as the apathetic side pulled away, “Look me in the eyes bitch.” Janus raised his foggy tear-filled eyes to look into Apathy’s dark ones, almost black in colour. Panting for breath as Apathy smiled.
The taller side walked to another part of the room. “You know, you’d think after all these years you would finally do what we say and stop fighting us.” he was digging around in a box, metal scraping and clanging as he dug around. “Now that Paranoia is gone, well. We can finally make sure that you never forget that fact.” Finally finding what he was looking for, Apathy turned back to face Janus. The yellow side wanted to scream in horror.
In his hand was a long piece of metal. A rubber grip on one end to make holding it easier, the opposite end was larger. It was a hefty rectangle, Janus couldn’t read the cursive writing that sat inside of it but he knew that it held nothing but pain for him. Janus tried to back away from the branding iron, hitting the wall as he tried to wrestle out of the rope binding his hands, muffled pleas filled the room as Apathy heated the iron in the furnace.
Janus’ mind was foggy from the drugs, but the laugh that came from Apathy could pierce through any smog in his mind, “beautiful. Isn’t it?” Apathy was staring into the flames as a child stared at the stars, completely fascinated. “The flames, they are truly the most beautiful things in the mindscape. And now, you’ll have a piece of the flames with you too.” Janus wanted to scream. He wanted to yell and tell Apathy that if he loves the fucking flames so much then he could go die in them. He wanted to cry and curse and fight every single person and decision that had led him to be in this position where he’s going to have a brand permanently etched onto his skin like he was nothing more than cattle on a farm. Janus wanted to scream for Virgil, for Vee, for his father, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he was tied up with a gag lodged firmly in his mouth, successfully muffling all of his screams as Apathy talked on and on about the beauty of the flames. The rope tying his wrists burned and scraped. Blood staining the ropes as mangled bloody flesh winded throughout the fibers. He wanted to scream and call Apathy an insane bastard for every scar, burn and cut. But his jaw was hurting from being forced in a position to hold the torn piece of fabric.
Apathy chucked at his attempted pleas, “keep singing like that, and maybe I’ll give you another gift~” Janus felt his heart grow cold despite the flaming heat of the room. Another brand? Janus pulled his knees to his chest. Tears staining his shirt and pants. Repeatedly shaking his head as Apathy left the flaming iron from the furnace as he turned to Janus.
Apathy walked up to the cowering side like it was just another day. He pulled the weaker side from his hiding spot without a single care of what harm he might cause, dragging him to the center of the room, the concrete floor scraping at his already torn pants; bringing small pinpricks of the crimson liquid through the snake like sides flesh, tying him to a table with hefty knots, Janus was screaming into his gag as Apathy took a knife from his back pocket and cut off his shirt. Throwing the now shredded shirt in the furrence, Apathy looked over his scar covered skin. Scales on one half of his body in patches, some of the scales were a slightly lighter green; signifying that they recently grew back in after being ripped out, the other half of his body was scar covered. Bandages covering a large section of his top half but were now stained in blood as the wound reopened. Janus watched in petrified horror as Apathy grabbed the branding iron.
It was illuminating a horrendous red and orange. The dark room only being lit by the burning furnace and gleaming iron. Janus could only scream into the cloth as Apathy stepped closer to him, tears streaming down his face, repeatedly shaking his head no. but the apathetic side didn’t care as his eyes scanned over the emaciated side.
The yellow side was struggling. The ropes digging into his skin as more and more scarlet liquid dripped down his hands and wrists, tears streaming down his cheeks in bitter agony. The taller side gripped Janus by the scalp and pulled his head back to keep him in place as he positioned the branding iron just above his heart. “Are you going to sing for me, little songbird?~” Janus shut his eyes tightly, he couldn’t bear to look Apathy in the eyes as he permanently maimed his skin, he heard Apathy chuckle but couldn’t process it as he felt something hot touch his flesh with a sizzling noise.
Janus screamed into the gag as his eyes flew open involuntarily, eyes wide and full of fear as Apathy watched with a grin.
It started lightly, only slightly touching his flesh but the sizzling was none the less torture, Janus wailed in pain; the gag acting as a mild sound buffer. Only for the iron to be pressed deeper into the young sides flesh and deeper and deeper. The iron was pressing almost to the skin’s limit, Apathy continuously pushing it harder and deeper into the younger sides already mangled flesh. The burning was akin to a million wasps all stinging in one area. The side was screaming as his skin was seared, the gag was practically useless as he could feel his voice growing loader with every second. The iron dug deeper, the skin grew a dark irritated red. Apathy held the sides scalp tighter as he pulled the iron away.
The smaller side was panting, skin pale, his arms weak, eyes glanced over as his body stopped fighting; resigned to tremble in fear and in sobs. Apathy looked down at the side with amusement. “Well, you certainly sang. Didn’t you?” Apathy let go of Janus, letting him collapse to the floor, the side knelt to the floor, gazing into Janus’ new brand and the side’s broken eyes. “Aww, aren’t you pretty like that. What do you think songbird, wanna go again?” Janus’ muffled pleas were ignored as Apathy chose another branding iron.
Janus was branded a total of three times that night
----Two weeks later----
Janus stood in front of a mirror in his room. His fingers hesitantly raising to touch the scabbed over skin. One was on his upper right bicep; reading ‘monster’, another on his left ankle of his symbol and finally the one on his chest. Janus trembled at even imagining the look in Apathy’s eyes as he held the glowing iron to his skin. A quick hushed knock breaking him out of his staring contest with himself. Janus threw on his shirt; doing up the buttons as he made his way to the door, leaning against it to hopefully make out who was on the other side. “Baby snake?” Virgil.
Janus unlocked all the deadbolts as fast as he could, unlocking the door and throwing it open with hopeful glass like eyes. Happy for his father to be back, he could be back to protecting him. Virgil would never let Apathy do anything like that ever again. Janus opened the door with a smile and dragged the purple side into the room. Relocking everything before turning to his father. The pinstripe purple dress shirt was replaced with a black hoodie with purple patches. His striped tie gone, replaced with a thundercloud patch
The purple side looked sheepish, looking to the floor in shame. Janus felt his mouth dry up, words becoming unable to form; light sides had patches. “Dad… wh-what happened?” Janus’ voice was breathless, shocked from the sudden change of clothing and from his father avoiding his gaze.
“I got accepted.” Virgil sounded almost uncaring to the repercussions of this revelation. “I need you to accept my acceptance so my room will move” Janus couldn’t tell if Virgil was blocking his emotions to the situation, or if he just didn’t care. Janus looked at him with wide eyes and mouth gaped.
“What?” tears started to spring to the smaller sides eyes.
“I said that I got accepted and I need you to accept that so my room will move.” Virgil couldn’t meet his child’s eyes, “Thomas needs me.”
Janus’ voice was refusing to work with the fact that his father was leaving him, “but….. You can’t leave me here.. Alone…” His voice was breaking, “what about Wrath? And Depression? An-” his speech cut out, “ a-a-and Apathy?” The lump of lead in his stomach was only growing heavier as he gazed into Virgil’s eyes.
Virgil looked at his child, “Do you trust me?” the yellow side nodded almost immediately, “Then you have to let me go. I promise I’ll come back for you, but just because I have your trust, doesn’t mean I have the other’s.” Virgil walked up to his child and put a hand on his shoulder, not noticing a shudder “Now, you have to let me go and trust that I’ll come back for you.” Virgil let out a small smile as Janus nodded, tears falling down his cheeks.
The dark house groaned and creaked as Janus let Virgil go. As soon as the side was there, he was gone and Janus was left all alone once again.
Janus locked the deadbolts once more as Virgil left. The younger side limped back over to the bed and sat down. He looked back into the mirror and couldn’t help himself as he unbuttoned his shirt once more.
His eyes raked over the marks permanently marked on him. His symbol on his ankle he could possibly accept, probably not, but he might be able to figuratively heal. The word ‘monster’ on his bicep was nothing more than his internal thoughts ingrained on his skin, the scales that mocked him and made him permanently stand out even more than he already did with the blond curls. No, the one that we could never recover from was the words etched on his chest. His eyes raked over the words, a sob coming from his throat even though he couldn’t stop himself from reading it again and again.
‘Property of The Dark Sides.’
Janus could only sob choked tears as his fingers traced over the brand.
------
@mother-snake , @writerstrashbin , @psychedelicships , @cryptidwriterdotcom , @idkanameatall (ask to be removed or added)
Guys..... I'm sorry...
46 notes · View notes
myfeetkeepdancing · 4 years
Text
Royal Blood | Tom Holland x Male!Reader
Tumblr media
Words: 3833
Request: This idea just came to me but like, a prince Tom x prince reader where Tom’s dated the reader before but both of their parents didn’t approve and forced them to split up. Times later, Tom went to another kingdom’s party/ ball and found out that reader was forced to be with someone else. They still love each other and they ended up running away with each either for the night. Eventually their parents found out about what happen but Tom decided to stay with the reader regardless.
A/N: Changed it a slight bit. Enjoy!
The carriage slowly slumbers down the cobblestone road. Past the curtains and through the small dirty windows, you watch the shape of the keep loom on the horizon.
"Darling, I know it pains you." Feeling the touch of a tender hand rest upon your knee. "But let us do this for your nephew and uncle." Her voice was so soothing and calm. Josephine had the best intentions for you. Good of heart, and always by your side. A listening ear and independent advisor you could trust. A wife that every man should have. Except you. For times are different.
Since the invite arrived many moons ago, you felt disillusioned. Lost in thoughts and haunted by recollections of the past. Your keen mind wasn't what it used to be. Your strong will, sharp wit, and sense of justice had faded away. Hunting parties were called off. Royal banquets and meetings with the Lords and members of the Church were postponed. Public displays weren't happening as often. The people spoke about it. Your secret was known to the very few. And those who knew outside that circle didn't live long enough to tell the tale.
"It troubles me greatly. For it kept me awake so many nights." You sigh deeply, pained by the confrontation that was bound to happen. "I'm so sorry." Wiping your eyes clean. "I just can't..."
"I know you have. I have seen it, my good man." Her hand caressing up and down your spine. "But you can not be seen with him. It will complicate matters greatly." She was right. The last thing you would want in front of everyone. Even if you desired it most of all. For the greater good, you couldn't. Not tonight, at least. Not for your lands, but also not for your dynasty, and family name. Your parents already had made their mark on your lives. Now you were free of their tyranny, and you certainly don't want to give them another chance to reprimand you. "But I think he will be very happy with what you have brought him." She nudged you in your side, her kind smile radiating on you. "He will be so happy. I know he will." Helping you fit the last bits of armor on.
"What if-..." Her lips cut off your words. "I…" You stammer indifferent and unsure, you gaze falling to the floor, feeling a sense of defeat and sadness wash over you.
"Look at me." Turning your head with her soft fingers on your cheek. "If the time is right, my darling. The time is right. I don't blame you."
"You do know he is…"
"I know." She nodded with a reassuring smile. "As much I hate losing you, I want you to be happy."
"Thank you." You whisper to her, unable to keep your smile hidden by the simple thought of it even happening tonight. "Thank you…" Josephine helps further with suiting up. Tightening the last belts and running a cloth over your plating. Pulling yourself together as the carriage rolled across the bridge. Through the gate into the inner courtyard. The high walls of the keep surrounding the inner courtyard were lined with sentries. Every meter or so, a man stood readily. Sword and shield in hand. Archers atop the towers. You admired such grand armies. You would rather inspect those, then attend this dreadful party.
You force out your kindest smile, before stepping out the carriage. Shaking hands with the greeting party. A small army of housekeepers takes care of your luggage. Crates and chest full of gifts and clothing to spend the night. In the worst-case scenario, these parties tend to last a week. Shaking that horrible vision from your thought, you turn towards the Guard Captain. An old instructor from back in the days of your training. Before turning into the keep and avoiding unnecessary small talk with nobles and the like. You manage to get a short tour of the armory. But not for too long. Well aware that Josephine was waiting for you. With your following and personal Guard unloading the carriages. You catch up with your wife and link arms. She gives you a reassuring smile and a kiss. Before you tread into Lion's den. Literally and figuratively.
The pillars of the Grand Hall reach high into the sky. A marvelous feat of engineering. Its features came close to that of a cathedral. Pillars cut of the best marble originating from all across the Kingdom. And large granite slabs of stones. Enormous is the size and shining clearly. Through the large doors, you are greeted by a large mosaic round window above the King's seat. Now moved several places down. It now stood proudly at the head of the table. The sun illuminating those chairs in specific.
The voices of high standing officials and members of large families echoes throughout the hall. Accompanied by Josephine, you shake hands with many. Most of them familiar to you. Once upon a long ago, you probably had business with them. Either through the Merchants Guild or the Army. Although your age, you established a vast network of people in various places. You were renowned in many regions. Valued and praised. Your family name sure playing a part in that. In the back of your mind, the thought that he would be here made you slightly anxious. You were warm to the touch. Heart fluttering. Nervous.
Conversations with your uncle went without trouble. You were in high regard to him. In turn, making him a scapegoat for your parents. He knew. But wasn't moved by it. Everyone had their secrets. And he didn't bother. He knew very well how to handle your parents and their disdain. Your presents were well received. Receiving grand applause and much praise. Your nephew pleased with your presence. Strengthening your bond with him and their house.
But you wish you weren't here. Just stay in your own hold, with your own private banquet. But your advisors had pressed you. The wisest of them all, your wife. These moments were vital for your future alliances. And you couldn't put that at risk. Certainly not when the older generation was running at their end. The new generation was preparing itself.
The feast was truly something. All the wine and mead one could think of. The tastiest and most luxurious animals were prepared in honor. Brought in from all across the land. The most exquisite fruits and vegetables were served. And many more. One to write tales bout. A feast for the books. The seating of the night was in your favor. Josephine beside you and a fellow army commander sat beside you. Your parents luckily far away from you. Out of their reach. But not from their long talons. The later the evening, the more careful you had to be with your words. Their following was also present. They kept their distance up until now. But they closed in on you, bit by bit. A most unpleasurable way of keeping an eye on you.
There he was. Like fate had made it so. The crowd had dispersed a little as the evening progressed. He at first didn't notice. You stared at him. You couldn't help it. You try to blink the welling tears away. Heart racing in your chest. The air stocked in your throat. For many years, you hadn't seen him. You couldn't. Forced apart. Yet there he was. He was everything you remembered, and more. His hair combed gracefully. Broad shoulders, and muscular arms. It required little imagination to know what was underneath that plate mail. A dreamy sigh escapes your lips. Trying to compose yourself. But even drinking one of the best wines, couldn't quench your thirst. That moment of eye contact. His smile. His eyes. Burning deep into your soul. You raise your glasses to each other. Noticing the beautiful woman linked in his arm. You heard the rumors. Tom was also forced to marry a woman of nobility. A wealthy and influential family. Turning the game into one with incredibly high stakes. You have trouble to avert your eyes back to your own conversation. The thought that this could be the last time was heartbreaking. In all, you were conflicted by emotions and flooded by doubt. You swear you could melt the plate mail right of your body. You were boiling. Overwhelmed. What were you to do?
But they were watching. From every corner. You feel their eyes burning in the back of your head.
Josephine had witnessed the whole ordeal. It was quick, and nothing out of the ordinary. But too many eyes were on you. "Stay focused, my love." She whispered to you. "Stay strong."
The evening went on and on. Late into the night. You had passed on the wine after a few. You needed to stay sharp of mind. But the mood was right. The eyes had diverted after a good while. Music was played, and jesters were performing. A true spectacle to behold.
"M'Lord?" A follower of you grabs your attention as he leans into your ear. "An urgent matter needs your attention immediately." Excusing yourself, you slip from your entourage. Your personal guards awaiting you outside the Grand Hall, ready to escort you. All in full plate, a sight to behold. "This way." The commanding officers said with an icy tone. Leading you down the corridors of the castle. Its many passages sprawling with activity. Ascending a flight of stairs up, you end up in a more quiet place. Only the sound of rattling steel armor against the cobblestone. Marching behind you. The thought crossed your mind that Josephine was nowhere to be seen. For all you know, something terrible might have happened. Your expression grew grave at the thought of what kind of trouble the incompetent fools had managed to afflict during your time of absence.
The servant leads you further down the hall, around another corner. Halting at a particular door. Bowing deeply before you, as he opened the door. You march in, hand on the pommel of your sword. Trying to maintain your dominant and powerful posture as well as a calm attitude. As your mind was occupied by various situations.
But except for the furniture, there was no one there. Apart from the small dancing flames on top of the candles. The room was filled with emptiness and silence. Your eyes scour from left to right through the room. Your brown knitting together in an aggravated look. Until your eyes spot the rose. In the middle of the room stood a royal bed, big curtains hanging from either side. And in the center lay one red rose. "What kind of joke is this…?" You mutter with a hint of masculinity in your voice. You halt your pace as you hear the door fall shut behind you. But before you turn around, you're frozen to the spot, as a pair of hands close around your shoulders. "Time has aged you incredibly well." Whispered into your left ear. You recognize that voice out of a thousand. A voice that sends shivers down your spine. Make you all warm and fuzzy on the inside. So silky smooth and tender. His breath tickling your skin. You can't help but release a shuddering breath. Smiling as you feel his body move closer.
"T-Thomas..." You sputter. Biting down on your lower lip, stifling your smile.
"Not so formal, my love." He chuckled softly while drawing his body flush against yours. The cold steel of his breastplate obstructing you from any form of physical touch. Only his soft fingers grace on your skin.
"Tom…" You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes for a moment. The edges of your lips curving into a smile. "You know..." No more words come from your lips. As his warm lips connect with the side of your neck. Sucking on the skin as his fingers reached underneath your armor plating. You can't help but shudder at his touch. "If they find out-..." You groan heavily. Paralyzed by his heavenly caressing lips. Slow and passionate. Like a long lost kiss, finally finding its beloved skin.
"...-It's going to be war." His voice was soft and caring. "Yes, I do know." He was aware of the complications. The slightest suspicion could bring bad tidings for you and his house. Not to speak of the Kingdom. But he seemed unmoved by the thought. And frankly, you began to care less and less. His hands slowly trace down your back, while carefully leaving marks in the crook of your neck. You can't help but whimper under his touch. His fingers found the buckles, relieving you from your cuirass.
"Before or after…?" Hinting at the sexual tension between the two of you, while turning to face him. A loving smile greeting you. Kind and inviting. Full of adoration and love. His hands immediately cup your cheeks. A reunion long-awaited. Longed for. Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in his features. But only for a brief moment, as he tilts his head, his lips connecting with yours. "But I think you've already made your choice." Slowly lowering your cuirass to the floor.
"I know you like that armor, but to me…" Caressing your cheek with his thumb. "...-you've always looked better without."
"The same goes for you." Pressing your lips on his cheek and work your way to his side, unlocking all the hinges and straps that kept the breastplate together around his torso. "But my imagination can only go so far." You tease him as you undo him of his armor. Underneath the ornately decorated plate, hang a tunic wrapped around its frame. Beautiful of color and with a certain style rarely seen. How he does it, you don't know. But it makes you smile, the moment your nostrils catch a whiff of his perfume. It takes a few secure straps to free him entirely of his armor.
"It's been so long." He beamed, looking at you with heart eyes. Pulling at the cord of your gambeson. You follow his lead and reveal his muscular body, broad shoulders, and well-rounded pecs.
 "How are the arr-...." Your question of worry and mind occupied by doubt, are silenced by his lips. This time pulling you flush against his warm, welcoming frame. His warm breath fanning down your body. All the hills and valleys of his muscles massaging you.
"It's taken care of, sweetheart." He smiled proudly. Leading you to the bed. Step by step. In the arms of the man you love. "Tonight is the night." You both can't help but smile out of happiness. "I told them… We.. needed to take care of something first." Discarding the last bit of linen from the both of you. Toppling you onto the large bed. No struggle. Only passion and lust. As Tom spreads his legs for you. Inviting your rod into his warm tight hole. And as the party downstairs went on. You made love to the man you've always desired. Pushing into him with the intensity of a lion. Tom's heavy groans sounded continuously throughout the quarter as you pound him. In the harmony of the sound of slapping flesh and pleasured moans. Together you had made plans to run away. A Safe haven. Somewhere far away. Distant and unknown. Just for the two of you. And tonight was the night.
Through a narrow passageway, you follow after Tom. Dressed in full armor again, the metal clinging and swaying side to side. Not very quietly. Your heart skips a beat for moment when you emerge in one of the hallways again. Either side guarded by heavy armored brutes. The very few light sources gave them a grim and terrifying sight. But with a flick of his finger. "Men." Tom commanded. And from darkness grew a small force together. There voices hushed and low. "Here, let's be extra cautious." Handing you pitch-black cloak with hood. "Your men are waiting in the courtyard." He assured you while gesturing to follow the escort through the dim castle hallways. You were slow and hesitant. This was it. But Tom helped you snap out of it. His fingers interlaced with yours, and together you walked down the corridors. This late in the evening, it was bound not to go unnoticed. The metal boots striking against the cold stone floors were unnerving at most. Your thoughts drifted to Josephine for a moment. She would understand.
Everything went fast. Your personal entourage waited outside in the shadows. A small cart packed with the necessary things you needed for the journey. The rest left behind. A new begin. It was exciting, yet slightly frightening.
A distant scream followed by a horn being blown. Chaos ensued. In the darkness you couldn't understand who was who. Which Guard belonged to whom. "That cart has to go with!" You order into the darkness. Left and right people run about. Bumping into each other. But the nonetheless, your orders where obeyed, the cart was towed with haste towards the gate. But in the corner of your eyes you spot guards running up the gatehouse. "Close the gate!" A familiar voice screamed from the top of their lungs. "Stop them whatever is necessary." Tom yanked on your arm, as you hear the metal chains and mechanism rolling into motion. Momentarily your numbed by rage of the persons standing here. On the balcony overlooking the courtyard. "You've forsaken us!" The voices echoed over the yard. Their shirl voices carrying far and wide. "Defiled our name!"
"We have to go!" Tom screamed, pulling you from your frozen spot again. Your parents stood there. Yelling and waving their arms around. Commanding unseen guards.
 "This is all your doing!" The word spat from your mouth. Jabbing a finger at them. Your blood boiled from anger and rage. Adrenaline racing through your system, shaking your every limb. "You did this! All of this! You drove us apart! Forced us…! Like cattle!" Tom's hand catches your shoulder, trying to turn you away from the confrontation. "And now you get what you want." Screaming from the top of your lungs. "Don't think of-..."
But the sudden bolt that dug itself deep into the dirt in front of you waked you from your frenzied speech. Taking a few steps back, slowly into the arms of Tom. The realizations hit you that they were actually trying to kill you. You turn on your heel and run after Tom. The gate wasn't far now. It's large cast-iron fence slowly lumbering towards the floor. Screams and commands were given all around. To your surprise, in the chaos a guard stops right in front of you. It's difficult to make out faces exactly. But he wasn't intent on letting you pass as his longsword was unsheathed.
"In the order of-..."The man ordered with a deep voice. But the light in his eyes dimmed as his words were cut short by a blade. The man stumbled to one knee, his hands clamped to his throat. You see Tom sheath his sword again. "Move!" He yelled while pulling you along. And as you ran by, the sound of blood gurgling from the man's throat faded away with a heavy thud. Sprinting the last meters as the gate was halfway closed. Ducking underneath it, you both discard the cloaks. Both sharing a look of relief and happiness. Panting as you try to regain your breath. In the distance, you see small lights cast outwards through the castle windows. Increasing in number one by one. The inhabitants and their guards slowly waking from the commotions.
"That wasn't as planned." Holding you by his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Soft and caring eyes staring into yours. You force out a smile in response.
"I will be. Give me some time." In the distance you see a row of flickering lights, torches and oil lamps. It's rays of golden light illuminating your path to freedom. And as you came close, you inspect the column of carts and carriages waiting to depart. While Tom takes the final notes and plans through with the riders, you carefully put the present in the carriage. Awaiting Tom's arrival. To your relief, the gate of the castle had stayed put, and no more further noise was coming from it.
"Ready?" Tom kissing you on the cheek as you gazed mindlessly into the stary night. "A ship is waiting for us in the harbor." You nod walking along with him to the carriages. "Our adventure is finally starting." Tom beamed of happiness, putting an arm around you as you walked along the column.
Seated from within the carriage, you watch the vague contours of the castle in the distance. Small shimmering lights dying out one by one. Except for one. She probably knows by now. You can't help but sigh a little at the feeling of guilt, leaving her behind like this. "Will she be alright?" Tom leaned in, holding your shoulders as he rested his head onto it. Both looking at that shimmering light. "She seemed nice."
"She is… I just hope she finds someone better than me."
 "Won't she get in trouble because of this?"
"No, I made sure of that. But I… I just… I wish I could have thanked her properly. She meant a lot to me." And as the carriage started rolling down the muddy roads. You feel a burden fall from your shoulder. Relieved. But also slightly conflicted, leaving her behind like this.
"I will make sure you can, darling." Kissing you softly down the back of your neck. "I will."
"There is one more thing." You turn to him. "I have something for you." The box standing opposite you moved slightly on the couch as you looked on. "One way or another, you would have gotten this." Tom's eyes sparkled with excitement as he watched you holding the box. "I'm just really happy that I'm able to give you… this… in person." In your hands you bring up this adorable black puppy, it's eyes all sleepy. It wasn't much older than two months. And it looked so fluffy. Small paws and beady little eyes. It looked almost the same as Tom's Tessa. Which he unfortunately lost. Getting it here was one thing, but keeping it a secret was thrice as problematic. Tom covered his gasping mouth, as his eyes started to water. "I know what Tessa meant to you." The welling tears rolled so easily down his cheeks. As a smile curved his lips again.
"I… I can't thank you enough." As he took the small puppy into his hands. Closing it into his embrace. "You made me the happiest man in the world (Y/N)."
"I feel the same, Tom." Closing in for a hug, puppy in between. The carriage taking you away from all the trouble in the world. Towards a new world. A new beginning. A new start.
206 notes · View notes
lake-arrius-caverns · 3 years
Text
Nerevarine Rising
Chapter 4: Arkngthand
summary After a few days of guild work and running odd jobs around Balmora, Fahjoth’s thirst for adventure continues to grow. On being given an assignment to venture into a Dwemer ruin, he is elated — but is he getting ahead of himself?
content warnings mild threat/violence
tag list @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)
read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍
:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::
  —————————————————————————————
“I joined the Mages Guild.”
“You what?”
Fahjoth stood there, knee deep in the Odai River and grinned back at Ribyna, who was sitting on the bank sharpening a chitin dagger. He knew he had the dopiest, silliest smile on his face, but he couldn’t help it; Ribyna’s incredulous expression was tickling him. 
“The fuck have you done that for?” Ribyna asked. “The only thing you can cast is a shadow.” 
“Oi!” Fahjoth laughed, too accustomed to Ribyna’s mean teasing to take offence. “That’s why I joined it. I want to learn! You should join, too.” 
Ribyna grimaced. “Nah, you’re alright. Didn’t you join the Fighters Guild as well?”
“I did! I think that’s where I’ll be most useful,” Fahjoth admitted. “I might not be any good at magic, but turns out I can swing a sword decently.”
In the days that had passed since Fahjoth arrived at Cosades’ house, he had done as advised and set out to build up his strength. In addition to securing membership in — and running a few menial jobs for — the Fighters Guild and Mages Guild, Fahjoth had visited several of Cosades’ recommended trainers to get some practise in moving in armour and using larger weapons than the daggers he was used to. With the gold he had been gifted, he had even purchased a set of chitin armour and a gleaming steel shortsword for himself, which certainly came in handy when exterminating rats from old ladies’ homes. 
Today, he was to meet Cosades at noon to receive his first assignment. Fahjoth was even beginning to feel a little excited; this was the very reason he was here, after all. Who knew what thrilling mission Cosades had lined up for the newest Blades recruit? 
But for now, while the sun was up and basking Balmora in a warm early light, Fahjoth had taken the morning off and met with Ribyna to catch up and relax. She squinted at him, finally paying attention to the fact that he was standing in the shallows of the river. 
“Any particular reason you’re going for a paddle?” she asked, finally setting down her dagger and nodding towards his feet. “It’s not that hot today.” 
“I’m practising a water walking spell I got from the Guild,” Fahjoth answered happily. 
Ribyna raised a brow. “You sure that wasn’t a water sinking spell instead? ‘Cause if it is, you’re doing great.”
“Oh ha ha. It’s a hard spell!” However, Fahjoth was ready to admit defeat for now, emerging from the river and sitting beside his twin to let his feet dry off in the sun. “So, what’ve you got planned for today?”
Ribyna shrugged. “Not much. I’ll see if Habasi wants anything doing. What about you? You off to see this Cosades bloke?”
“In a bit,” Fahjoth said. “He’s got my first job for me today, apparently.”
“Juicy. So are you gonna tell me what it is you’re doing now?”
“You know I can’t.” 
Ribyna turned to Fahjoth, her face falling into a rather petulant frown. “You‘ve never given a shit before. Come on, can’t you just tell me? Not like I’m gonna tell anyone, is it?” 
Fahjoth sighed, trying to look as sincere as possible. “I’d love to tell you, Beebs, honestly. I would. But Cosades made me swear to secrecy. I’m not allowed to tell anyone.”
Ribyna was quiet for a moment. “Is it really that serious?” Then she laughed. “I mean, it’s not like you’re a secret agent for the Emperor, is it?”
Fahjoth forced a laugh, feeling wildly uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Hah! Wouldn’t that be mad?” Partly for a distraction, he shielded his eyes and glanced up at the sky. “Anyway, I should probably get going. Don’t wanna be late for Cosades,” he said, as he replaced his boots and hauled himself to his feet. 
“Alright.” Following Fahjoth’s example, Ribyna stood up and stretched with a dramatic groan. “I’ll see you later then. If you’re free, meet me in the South Wall Cornerclub this evening? I’ll get the first round in.” 
“Sounds good!” Fahjoth agreed with a grin, patting his twin on the shoulder as he set off for Cosades’ house. “See you later.” He turned and waved over his shoulder as Ribyna called back to him. 
“Bye, Fahji. Good luck!” 
 —————————————————————————————
As Fahjoth let himself into Cosades’ house, he was unsurprised now to find the older man completely shirtless yet again. In fact, it was a rarer sight to see him actually wearing anything over his chest. 
“You’re early,” Cosades remarked. “Good, that shows eagerness. Are you ready for your first task?”
“Yessir!” Fahjoth confirmed, trying to curb his enthusiasm and resisting the urge to salute. 
“Excellent. Here’s what I need you to do.” Cosades handed over a scrap of parchment, upon which instructions had been neatly scrawled — fairly useless to Fahjoth, as his reading ability was no better now than it had been when he had first arrived. He took it regardless and waited for Cosades to continue. “Go talk to Hasphat Antabolis at the Balmora Fighters Guild. Ask him what he knows about the Nerevarine secret cult and the Sixth House secret cult. You'll have to do him a favour first. Probably an ugly favour. But do it. Then get the information from Antabolis and report back to me.” 
Fahjoth paused, the spark of excitement that had been burning in his chest shrivelling up and dying within seconds. Disappointed didn’t even begin to cover it; he had been expecting daring missions full of adventure and maybe a little bit of danger to get the blood pumping. Instead, he was being sent to... gather intel? 
Well, there’s a bit of glamour in that, in a way, Fahjoth reasoned to himself as he made his way over to the Balmora Fighters Guild. Learning about secret cults was sure to be fascinating — not that he had any idea what the ‘Nerevarine’ or the ‘Sixth House’ even were. Still, it must have been important — to Cosades at least, if nobody else — and Fahjoth was determined to make his first assignment a success.
Hasphat Antabolis was, thankfully, easy to locate, standing in the base of the Guild in discussion with another member. Trying his utmost to seem polite and professional, he approached the Fighters Guild’s Drillmaster and waited for Antabolis’ conversation to end. 
“Good day, Associate,” Antabolis greeted, turning to Fahjoth once he had finished. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi, sir. I’m actually here on a job from Caius Cosades,” Fahjoth explained. 
“So you're with Caius, eh? Let me guess, he wants information?”
“Yes sir.”
“I see.” Antabolis didn’t seem overly surprised. “Of course, there's a this-for-that involved here. I’d like to ask a favour first, and then I'll tell you what you want to know.”
Fahjoth had been expecting that. “Of course, sir,” he said, wondering what kind of favour Antabolis was looking for. Maybe to run some shopping errands, or to take some armour to be repaired?
“There are Dwemer ruins nearby called Arkngthand. I need you to run over there and find me a little copper cube. It's called a ‘Dwemer puzzle box’. Bring me back the box, and I'll tell you what you want to know.”
Fahjoth’s smile slipped for a moment as he realised what Antabolis had asked of him. “A Dwemer ruin?” he repeated, beginning to feel that flicker of excitement again — accompanied by apprehension, of course, but he pushed that aside. After the rigorous training he had received, an expedition into some Dwemer ruins was bound to be a breeze!
“Yes.” Antabolis began tracing the approximate shape of the cube in the air with his fingers. “It’s a little cube, about the size of a fist, maybe a little bigger. It will have a circular design, symbols on one side and some lined marks on the others. That's all I want, that little cube. You probably won’t even need to go venturing too deep into the ruins. Can you do that for me, Associate?”
Fahjoth nodded, feeling a wave of hopeful determination flooding his chest. “Yes sir! I’ll head there right now.”
After lingering for long enough to commit the instructions regarding Arkngthand to memory, Fahjoth set off, stopping at Cosades’ to collect his armour and sword before strolling out of Balmora on his next adventure. The sense of trepidation persisted, but it was drowned out by Fahjoth’s overwhelming curiosity and eagerness to explore new places and put his new skills to the test. It was just an old, uninhabited ruin, after all — as long as he was careful, he should be just fine.
Plus, he did have some experience with old ruins; he and Ribyna had ventured through the weathered stone doors of ancient Ayleid ruins back in Cyrodiil, with a group of friends from the Waterfront. Granted, they had barely gone deeper than the entrance hallway, but still! That had to count for something.
Fahjoth’s good mood only continued to grow as he reached the crest of an earthy hill, the vegetation having grown more and more sparse the nearer he got to Caldera. Once he spotted the Dwemer bridge, he couldn’t hold back a jubilant grin. He’d made it! Perhaps it was his euphoria at having successfully followed directions, but even the broad metal bridge itself had a certain rustic charm to it, despite being coated in a layer of dust and dirt built up over the years. Each footstep caused a reverberating clang to echo over the crevasse beneath, which Fahjoth peered down at with interest as he crossed, running his fingertips over the brass handle and feeling its mild, sunkissed warmth against his skin. 
Once he reached the other side, he was plunged into the shadow of Arkngthand. For a few moments, he was struck silent with awe at the sheer scale of it, the surrounding hills dotted by colossal turrets jutting out of the earth — and that was just the part he could see. From his position outside, all seemed still and quiet, but if he strained his ears and listened, he could hear something from deep within the ruins; the soft whisper of steam and a slow, gentle rumble that caused the hairs along his arms to stand on end with anticipation. And here was a scent that hung faintly in the air, growing more potent the closer in proximity he got to the ruins — a strange earthy yet metallic tang that lingered in his nose and even left a hint on his tongue. 
He recalled Antabolis giving him advice, suggesting that there would likely be an external mechanism to power the door. Fortunately, Fahjoth didn’t have to look too far before his eyes fell on a rusted metal wheel protruding out of the ground, which was somewhat stiff but still mobile. And once Fahjoth succeeded in twisting it, he heard the unpleasant groaning of metal and looked up just in time to see the ruin’s spherical entrance gliding open, revealing a door leading into what he assumed was the entrance hall. To his alarm, the rotating sphere began to slowly shut again, and so Fahjoth leapt into action and hurtled in through the entrance before it was sealed once more, assuming — and hoping — there would be some kind of opening mechanism on the other side. 
Once inside, Fahjoth’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. Along the dim hallways, strange elongated lights were fastened to the walls, casting a warm orange glow with which he was able to navigate. It didn’t escape his notice, however, that several wooden boxes and containers lined the halls, upon which candles sat — many flickering with a small flame. That seemed very unusual for somewhere that was supposedly uninhabited…
Then, he froze as it slowly dawned on him that Antabolis had never once claimed that Arkngthand was uninhabited. That was entirely Fahjoth’s own assumption.
And with that his confidence evaporated in an instant, to be replaced with a heavy apprehension that he could not shake. The ambience of the ruins only exacerbated his nervousness; now that he was inside, he could hear the clanking and groaning of ancient Dwemer machinery all too clearly, along with the occasional hiss as a puff of steam escaped from a loose joint in a brass pipe, both of which provided a constant, repetitive backdrop of noise that was impossible to ignore. Every so often, a much louder clunk or creak echoed through the tunnels, and Fahjoth flinched and froze, half-expecting the rusted supports holding up the dense stone walls to finally give way and collapse overhead. But there was no turning back now. He needed that cube.
The air now was stifling; warm, stale and thick with the acrid taste of metal, and only getting worse the further and deeper he delved into the ruins. Fahjoth began to feel beads of sweat gently dripping down his forehead and back, making him cringe with discomfort. With caution he pressed onwards, frequently pausing and straining his senses to listen out for any sign of life. And soon, it reached him; voices, coming from an area just up ahead, chatting amongst themselves and apparently oblivious to his presence. 
Fahjoth soon left the corridor and found himself overlooking a vast chamber, cut into the ground itself with stone slopes leading down to the base and up again on the opposite side to a second floor built into the cavern wall. Neither slope looked particularly structurally sound, and he grimaced at the thought of trying to sneak down undetected. So instead he stopped to listen, hoping to glean any information from the two men — an Imperial and a Redguard — loitering around a collection of boxes on the rough, stony ground beneath him. 
“How long are we staying in this shithole anyway? It’s fucking roasting in here.”
“No idea. Long enough for us to find enough Dwarven shit to make a profit off of, I guess. Since Crito’s found that weird cube, he reckons there’s more lying around that the right people will pay a fortune for.” 
“Really? He’s still holding onto that junk?”
“Yup. Keeping it in the safe room up there. He seems to know his stuff, so maybe he’s right.”
“Maybe. I still think we’d have been better off raiding a tomb, though.” 
As the men continued to debate the merits of sacking an ancestral tomb over looting Dwemer ruins, Fahjoth had his answers at least. The Imperial below had pointed upwards as he spoke, gesturing to a doorway on the upper floor of the chamber across from where he stood, which was as good a hint as he was likely to get. But even armed with this information, he was still faced with the issue of how to actually get himself over there without being noticed. He’d never been a particularly skilled sneak, but just maybe— 
“Come on, I’m sure there’s some flin ‘round here somewhere. I’m sure nobody’ll miss it if we just take one or two bottles.” 
Fahjoth could scarcely believe his luck. As the men began to amble further away and rummage around in some crates in the alcove beneath the second floor, he took his chance. As light-footed as a cat, but with less than half the grace, he scrabbled down the slope to his right, occasionally gasping and half-running as he felt rocks and soil shifting beneath his boots. It was with relief that he reached the ground, but there was no time to hesitate — within seconds he had crossed the chamber and was ascending the second slope, having to use his hands for balance as he clambered up the dilapidated ramp. At last he reached the next floor, where he was faced with another circular bronze door which he fully expected to be locked, but to his surprise, it swung open as enthusiastically as he pushed it with scarcely a creak. Clearly it was in frequent use. 
But as Fahjoth took a single step into the room, he found himself face to face with the largest Imperial he had ever seen in his life, whose broad shoulders were barely contained by the iron cuirass he donned. For a few moments the two simply locked eyes and stood in silence, both rather stunned by the sudden appearance of the other. Then, with a ferocious yell, the Imperial grasped the gleaming handle of a nearby battleaxe and swung it at Fahjoth without hesitation. 
With only a second to react, Fahjoth threw himself to the ground, panic wiping his mind completely blank. His first instinct was to flee, but now the man stood between him and the doorway, and there were no alternative means of escape that he could see. As he scrambled to his feet, Fahjoth leapt back as the man came lunging at him again and again with his axe, horrified by the determination on the Imperial’s face as he made one attempt after another to cleave him in half. 
The room, cluttered as it was with crates and stacks of shelves, was definitely not spacious enough to keep up these kinds of manoeuvres. Fahjoth’s only saving grace was that the man, in his heavy armour and wielding his cumbersome battleaxe, was far slower in comparison to him. But the man also had the advantage of both facing ahead and knowing the layout of the room. Continually driven back by the pendulous momentum of the blade, Fahjoth’s heart leapt into his mouth as his heel suddenly collided with a small box on the floor. With an almighty crash, he plummeted straight to the ground, bashing his shoulders on a brass pipe mounted on the wall behind him.
He risked a glance upwards. The axe blade was poised high in the air once more, ready to come crashing down over his head and split his skull into two. With blood pounding in his ears and adrenalin flooding his system, Fahjoth launched himself into a clumsy barrel-roll, tumbling past the Imperial’s legs a mere heartbeat before the axe fell upon the pipe that he had been leaning against. 
There was an ear-splitting shriek of metal on metal, but that barely measured up to the scream of the Imperial as a scalding jet of steam suddenly erupted from the broken pipe, filling the room with a hot, dense white fog within seconds. Fahjoth didn’t stop to check on the state of the man as he heard the axe fall clattering to the floor — his only goal was to escape. Squinting through the mist, he dashed around the scattered shelves and crates and hurtled towards the door, but as he neared it, something caught his eye. 
A small bronze cube sat innocuously on a row of shelves to his right, and Fahjoth’s heart skipped a beat. Without pausing to examine it, he grasped the little box tightly in his hand and threw his whole body weight against the door to shove it open. 
What he hadn’t been expecting was the door to smack the Redguard from earlier in the face, knocking him back against the wall with a yell and leaving him in a dazed slump, blood already pouring from his now crooked nose. Which meant that—
Sure enough, the first Imperial stood slack-jawed at the top of the slope, flabbergasted by the sudden appearance of a strange Dunmer. It didn’t take long for him to recover, however, and Fahjoth’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the man reaching down to his waist where a dagger hung in its sheath.  Fahjoth didn’t hesitate; driven by sheer desperation, he charged straight ahead like a wild guar, bashing his shoulder hard against the Imperial’s as he legged it haphazardly down the rocky slope. There was a yell and a dull thud from behind him as the Imperial, pushed clean off the edge of the slope by the force of Fahjoth’s bash, collided with the ground, and Fahjoth could hear only too clearly the enraged shouts of a number of men from behind him as they began to give chase. He didn’t look back. 
With his gaze fixed ahead of him and mouth dry, the beating of his heart as well as own footsteps ringing in his ears, his face feeling hot and his lungs cramping as a result of the sweltering atmosphere in the subterranean ruins, Fahjoth put his every ounce of strength into fleeing. With the head start he had secured he was able to bolt up the opposite slope, clambering up into the entrance tunnels and sprinting the length of the dimly lit corridors to the exit. At last, he turned a corner and Arkngthand’s entrance, his passage to the safe haven that was the outside world, suddenly popped into view. He stopped only to twist the copper wheel powering the entrance mechanism, his hands slippery with sweat yet whizzing around faster than they had ever moved in his life until, with a telltale groan, the spherical door ground open and daylight flooded the gloom.
The voices behind him were getting louder, their vicious insults and threats echoing through the tunnels, and though Fahjoth’s muscles were screaming for respite, he didn’t halt. He took off, rushing out into the fresh air, where a cool breeze caressed his clammy skin as his hands worked to spin the outside wheel powering the door machinery. Glancing up, he saw two figures come loping through the darkness of Arkngthand’s tunnels — before the door rasped shut once more, obscuring them from sight completely. 
As dearly as he wished to collapse into an inert heap on the dusty ground, Fahjoth knew he couldn’t relax yet. It would be seconds before the men — looters? bandits? smugglers? — reopened the door and resumed their pursuit of him. So it was with trembling legs that he trotted down the hill back towards the bridge, breathing a sigh of relief as no sound to indicate that he was still being chased reached his ears. 
Finally, he began to feel as if he could slow down. Now, with the adrenalin beginning to subside, he was left acutely aware of the stitch tearing up his midsection and each step felt almost torturous. The fog of panic was beginning to dissipate from his head, leaving him able to think clearly at last.
He glanced down at the cube in his hand, cold and surprisingly heavy now that he really focused on it. He examined the inscriptions donning the sides, feeling a stab of anxiety— what if, after all that trouble, he had picked up the wrong cube? But the more he scrutinised it, he realised it was more or less a perfect match for Antabolis’ description. And then came the overwhelming euphoria. 
He’d done it!
A grin spread across Fahjoth’s features as he gazed at the cube, so wide it almost hurt his cheeks. His first mission had been a rousing success — alright, it had been far from perfect, but besides a few scuff marks on the chitin of his armour, it was near impossible to tell that he’d even faced a struggle at all. And surely his superiors didn’t need to know about his unfortunate encounter. Why, he hadn’t even used his sword—
Suddenly, Fahjoth threw up a hand and slapped his forehead, eyes squeezed tightly shut in annoyance and embarrassment. Blinded by fear, he’d completely forgotten about the perfectly good weapon that hung in a sheath from his belt. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he and his shortsword may not have been much of a match for the brute of a man wielding a battleaxe anyway. At least, not yet. That was something to focus on in training. 
An echoing clang roused him from his thoughts and announced that he’d set foot on the bridge, but as Fahjoth looked up, he was surprised to see a man standing ahead. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he’d completely failed to realise that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alarmed to see the grey-haired Imperial, but he did wonder what the older gentleman was doing out here in the middle of nowhere. 
“Ah, don’t mind me!” Fahjoth called to announce his presence, holding up a hand to signify that he was not hostile as he began to stride across the bridge. “Just, uh, heading home—”
His words abruptly died in his throat, however, as a pulsating ball of blinding light suddenly erupted from the man’s outstretched hand, hitting Fahjoth square in the chest and flinging him to the ground like a ragdoll. He yowled in pain as the electricity coursed through his body briefly before dissipating, leaving him gasping for breath and struggling to regain full control of his limbs. The Dwemer box had been thrown from his hand as he fell; it lay around two metres away, between himself and the battlemage, whose hand pulsed with a sinister indigo aura as a walking skeleton clutching a war-axe suddenly materialised into thin air beside him. 
“What are you doing—?!” Fahjoth yelled, wheezing after the collision with the hard metal base of the bridge knocked the air out of his lungs. “I’m not— I don’t want to fight you—!”
But the Imperial didn’t seem to be paying any heed. He summoned another spell, a blistering ball of flame that he launched at Fahjoth, who managed to avoid it by a whisker by frantically rolling to one side, although he still felt a scorching wave of heat as the fireball exploded on the spot where he had been lying a mere second prior. Scrambling to his feet, panic building once more, Fahjoth was faced with the man preparing another spell and the skeleton, an actual intact human skeleton, loping towards him, brandishing its rusted blade and its bones creaking as they scraped against each other with every movement. For a split second, Fahjoth’s hand twitched towards his sword — but another convulsing ball of sparks coming his way dissuaded him from that idea completely. This was certainly not a battle he had any chance of winning. 
He lunged for the ground just as the skeleton swung its axe for his head, and Fahjoth felt the blade skimming the top of his hair as he narrowly missed being struck by it. With fumbling fingers he grasped the cube and heaved himself back to his feet, dancing backwards to avoid the spells still being flung in his direction and to put as much distance as possible between himself and the skeleton. Except, now, he had another issue; his opponents were in the middle of the bridge, obstructing the way ahead and preventing his escape. Thinking fast, there was only one thing for it; Fahjoth clambered over the metal railing at the side of the bridge, desperate for an alternative escape route. He was close enough to the start of the bridge, it probably wouldn’t be too far a fall—
But the moment he put both feet on the railing, he felt himself losing his balance on the rounded surface. He had just enough time to catch a glimpse of the side of the crevasse below, the walls of which were much steeper than he had anticipated, before he lost his balance completely and felt himself plummeting down, his stomach lurching up sharply as he descended. With a strangled yelp he hit the rocky sides of the cleft and tumbled down the rest of the way to the base, almost choked by the dense cloud of dust he had disturbed on impact with the soil. Once again adrenalin overtook him, lending him the strength he needed to drag himself to his feet and stagger the width of the crevasse and over to the other side, his grazed fingers still firmly clutching the precious cube. He felt more than heard the crackling of spells as they went whistling past his head, and a scuffing against the ground behind him indicated that the skeleton had followed his path down into the chasm. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself into beginning the arduous climb back to the top of the crevasse, scrambling up the rock face and skidding on loose dirt before finally emerging at the top. From the corner of his eye he could see the battlemage running the length of the bridge, trailing Fahjoth like a hungry wolf while still firing hostile spells at him as he gave chase. 
With one last burst of energy Fahjoth broke into another furious dash, bolting down the hill and sprinting along the path he now found himself on. He didn’t stop to look back, to check if he was being followed. His only objective was to return to Balmora as fast as possible. His lungs screamed with every frantic gasp of air he drew in, his heart hammering against his ribcage and reverberating dully between his ears. It was only once he passed under the arch at the town entrance and fled into the sanctuary of Balmora did he finally stop, and, in a haze of pain, exhaustion and sickening dizziness, he promptly fell to his knees. 
As he kneeled there on the dusty ground, struggling to get his erratic breathing back under control, it was a few moments before Fahjoth could even begin to process his thoughts again. The first thing he noted was that he was safe now; he was back in civilisation at last. Numerous guards patrolled the streets, their helmed faces occasionally turning to look at the outlander collapsed into the dirt — probably with disdain but that was the least of Fahjoth's worries right now. With his chest feeling as though it was on fire, burning up from the inside with every inhalation, he closed his eyes and let the pleasant warmth of the late afternoon sun wash over him, easing the tension in his aching muscles. Finally, his breathing began to slow, allowing for more thoughts to surface in his troubled mind.
The truth had hit Fahjoth like a warhammer to the face. Today had been nothing short of a disaster. It was almost laughable to reminisce on how excited and confident he had been when he initially departed from Balmora. He struggled to believe that mere hours ago, he thought he was prepared for anything. What a ridiculous notion that was. How could he have been so naive? If that was only the first assignment Cosades had given him, he believed wholeheartedly that he needed the blessing of the gods to survive what else might lay in store. 
His eyes fell down to the little cube he still clutched in his bloodied hand, the sight inspiring bitterness in his sore chest. First things first, he needed to return it to Antabolis; truthfully, he would be glad to see the back of it. The last thing he wanted was a reminder of how disastrous his little mission had gone. With embarrassment and misery now settling in his gut and pain racking him with every movement, Fahjoth dragged himself to his feet and finally limped his way back to the Fighters Guild for a less-than-triumphant return. 
9 notes · View notes
Text
When Did You Fall Out Of Love?
It was crowded.
The train was crowded and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. People coming from different places and going to different directions. The continuous stops that make the small train seem less crowded, until more people get on and it’s the same as before or maybe even more.
Regardless, I couldn’t breathe.
As more people went and go, I felt a presence staring at me. And that presence was right across from me.
He was wearing sunglasses, even though it was gloomy outside in this London weather, and a baker boy hat, that I have to admit, looks adorable. Perhaps I shall get one myself.
I’m not a shy person. Some may say I’m overly confident, but I don’t agree. I am confident, but I’m not stuck up or in love with myself. I’ve learned to accept my flaws and accept that I can’t change them. I’ve learned to love those flaws and realize that it’s a part of me that will never change. And that’s what makes me, me.
I don’t avoid confrontation. I know how to not make things awkward when confronting someone, and I make sure to have my facts right. Without confrontation, people don’t solve problems. It’s all part of life and I love solving problems. Some people find me rude for some reason.
So, I say something to the man who’s staring at me creepily.
“May I ask what caught your attention that has you staring at me like crazy?” I ask firmly.
The man seems shocked that I actually said something. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he closes it.
“I-I’m sorry. It’s just that, uhm,” he stutters, and I raise my eyebrows for him to continue. He takes off his sunglasses, “it’s just that I think you’re very pretty.”
Scratch that. I’m shy when it comes from gorgeous men that compliment me.
“O-oh, thank you,” I blush. He smiles and nods.
The rest of the train ride was getting to know each other. Luckily I couldn’t stop the conversation in the middle since my stop was practically the last stop of the day.
I’ve come to find out that the man staring at me is named Harry Edward Styles. He’s from Holmes Chapel in Cheshire (which isn’t that far from where I’m from, Doncaster).
“My best mate is from Doncaster!” He said excitedly.
“Really? What’s his name? I might know him.”
“Louis Tomlinson.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
His eyes widen a bit and I found that weird.
He also used to work in a bakery before his job right now.
“So you know how to bake?” I question.
“I can make a thing or two,” he smugs.
“Interesting. Might have to take you up on that.”
His mum is named Anne and his sister is named Gemma.
“Yeah, they’re the best. I grew up with just them two around and they’re the best influence I could possibly have in my life.”
His eyes light up as he talks about the most important women in his life. It’s admirable, the way he talks about them.
He was in a band in high school.
“The White Eskimos?”
“That’s the one.”
“Might have to listen to your tape.”
“I’ll be sure to send one out to you.”
I learned that he also moved to London when he was sixteen because of his job.
“What kind of job are you doing that even made you move to London at sixteen?!” I was completely shocked, there was no way my mother would let me move out that young.
Harry chuckled, “well, I sing and perform.” I felt like there was more to it so I stayed silent, hopefully encouraging him to say more. But it seemed like he was waiting for me to say something. “I-I’m in a band, we’re called One Direction.”
Harry seemed like he was completely shocked that I didn’t know who he was or who they were.
“Wow, that must be crazy. Do you perform at little venues? Or bars? I would love to go to one.”
He chuckles nervously, “erm, not really. I wouldn’t say little venues per say. Perhaps bigger places.”
“I’m sorry, but I probably seem so stupid right now as I don’t know who you are. But how big are we talking about?”
He cleared his throat, he seemed nervous.
“Wembley Stadium, a couple times.”
I almost choked, “are you fucking joking?” He shakes his head. “That’s insane!
You must be a pretty big person then!”
He smiles a little, “to each their own.”
“I’d have a listen when I get home because that’s just-“
“This is the last stop of the day, please exit the train and have a lovely day.” The overhead intercom through the speaker is loud and that means that our conversation was over.
We both exit the train quietly and make it out of the tunnel and onto the street.
“Well, I’m this way.” I point behind me.
“I’m this way,” he points behind him, the opposite way of me.
“It was really great talking to you, Harry.” I give him a small smile.
“You as well, love,” he smiles back.
I’m not sure what to do. Do I just walk away now? Say goodbye one more time? I step forward and open my arms, reaching in for a hug. Harry seemed to get the memo and quickly leans in, reciprocating the hug.
The hug was everything I wanted. He’s a very good hugger. Just enough squeeze and not lazy. He runs his hand up and down my back, and I feel like my knees can lock in and I can just melt. There’s nothing else that can top this hug, and I hope he feels the same way.
We eventually let go and pull away, sadly.
“I hope to see you very soon,” he says.
“I hope so too.”
He gives me one last smile and starts backing up and turning around to walk away. I do the same and walk home to my flat.
You think back to the memory that happened nearly four years ago. You smile back to when you and Harry first met and the memory will forever be burned into your head, as it was one of the best days of your life.
After that day, it was four months before you saw each other again. He saw you at a record store and he completely stood still, shocked to see you after what seemed like an eternity.
Again, you felt a presence staring at you, so you turned your head and saw him. It was him. The same guy who was looking at you four months ago and the same guy who was still looking at you four months later.
You slowly walk over to him and he meets you in the middle.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
You’re smiling like crazy, thinking that you weren’t going to see him ever again, but here you are.
“I have to admit, the week after I met you, I went back to the train station, got on at the same station that I did, and waited for you to show up until the very last stop, but you didn’t show.”
Your heart was bursting, to say the least.
“I actually went back to Doncaster for around three months after that day. I decided I needed to see family and friends, so I stayed there and just kind of took that time to reflect.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re back now.”
“I’m back,” you smile at him.
Its been hard. Its been hard waking up every morning to an empty bed. Every morning seemed to get harder and harder. You miss the conversations you had together. The conversations that’ll keep you both up at night and wake you both up first thing in the morning. The mornings that distracted you both from doing stuff outside the bedroom. Those were you favorite mornings.
Now, you just wake up to an empty bed, and it seemed like the bed is getting bigger and bigger, making it seem like your loneliness is expanding. But you won’t tell him that.
You were confident. Until a year ago. Harry’s schedule got busier and more hectic. With filming and promo for Dunkirk, his first solo album, and touring, his life kept going up and his dreams started to come true. But yours seemed like it was falling apart.
You wanted him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay. Because when he would say it, everything would actually be fine and things would work out perfectly. But he’s barely home for him to hold you and kiss you.
Every time you talked to him on the phone, you wanted to tell him everything that’s been going on in your mind. Everything that you bottled up, you wanted to unleash it. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want him worrying about you. He’s getting everything he wanted in his life, and you felt as if your problems would ruin his mood. Because all you want is for him to continuously be happy with that gorgeous smile on his face.
You struggled with your emotions and you were never like this before. Your mind is like a bottle. Each thought is so trapped inside that you feel as if your mind is about to combust because of the pressure. You want to talk…but you can’t.
It’s been hard.
Harry is suppose to be home for a bit, so he said on the phone. He has a week off before he flies to the U.S, so he should be home by the afternoon. You’re excited to see him. A bit nervous, but more excited. You talk to him on the phone about twice a week for about thirty minutes or an hour or until he has to hang up. But it’s usually never more than an hour. He’ll send some texts here and there throughout the week, but it’s the basic ‘goodmorning’, ‘goodnight’, or ‘what are you up to?’ and you feel like he’s doing it for the sake of conversation and the fact that it doesn’t make him seem like a bad boyfriend.
Yes, you feel him being distant towards you and you want to figure out why. You haven’t asked him because you’re nervous to, but it may be the fact that he’s touring (obviously, with time zones, it fucks everything up) and he genuinely doesn’t have time to talk. And you get it, he’s tired after the shows or he’d rather celebrate another successful show in a foreign city. But a call more than thirty minutes would be great.
You decide to clean the whole house, light up a candle, and cook a full meal for when he comes home.
You have music on as you sauté up a stir fry, one of Harry’s favorites. You sway your hips a little as your stir up the food vegetables that are sizzling on the stove, until you hear your phone buzz a bunch of times.
You see that it’s from your friend, attached with the massages are screenshots from various articles.
Have you seen these? Isn’t he suppose to be home today? Attachment: 2 images
You feel your heart already dropping as your hands shake to click on the article. Harry Styles out and about in London with stunning actress and looking good doing it! Singer and actor took some time off to go home before he starts the American leg of his 2018 World Tour. Harry was seen with actress getting lunch at Nando’s. Sources have said that Harry and recent girlfriend have split up since she was no where to be seen during his tour. Stick around for more updates to come!
Below the article were pictures of Harry and some beautiful woman at the restaurant. His arms on the table as he watches and listens to her talk. His smile all the way up to his ears and you can’t help but admire his million dollar smile.
But it hurt. It definitely killed you.
You haven’t seen him smile like that in what seems like forever. His calls and text don’t seem enthusiastic or excited to talk to you. And that hurt. Some other woman made him smile like that. She gets to see him smile for her like that. And that hurt.
And you decided not to go on tour with him because of school. You’re getting your masters degree in literature and that contained many essays and reading. You couldn’t drop everything you achieved to watch him on stage, no matter how many times you considered doing so. But he understood, he encouraged you to finish all the way through and you appreciated his understanding.
You feel a few tears stream down your face and you lift your hand up to wipe them. You put your phone down and turn off the stove. You put the food in a container and clean up. You couldn’t think about this anymore.
Harry was the one who said himself to not believe any of the articles that were written about him. And you didn’t. You didn’t believe them for four years and that saved the trouble and energy of arguing. Each article that was written about him with women, you didn’t believe any of them. You didn’t jump into conclusions and you didn’t make a fuss about them, because you trusted him. You trust him so much that no matter how much the pictures and words that correlated to Harry and a new girl hurts you, you didn’t make a big deal out of it. He was the first to say that you shouldn’t trust the media. So you didn’t.
But it still hurts.
A lot.
At 2 o’clock, you decide to pick up your phone and text him.
Hi, what time are you coming home?
You put your phone down and wait for it to buzz. So you decide to pull out your laptop and textbooks. Might as well study while waiting for him. A few hours passed and he still hasn’t shown up. You pick up your phone and check the times of the messages you sent.
Me: Hi, know what time you’ll be home? 3:05 p.m
Me: Are you on your way home? 4:00 p.m
Me: I made dinner, hope you haven’t eaten yet.          6:00 p.m
Me: Are you coming home?                                              7:00 p.m
Me: I’m heading to bed, wake me up when you come home. Would love to see you  11:00 p.m          
You were tired. You waited eight hours for him to come home and the studying definitely put your mind to ease.
You lay in your extremely large bed, tossing and turning. You glance at the clock and see the red numbers reading that it’s 2:23 a.m and there was no sign of Harry next to you. You sigh, until you hear the front door open. Your heart beating fast as you think it may be an intruder, but you hear Harry’s boots click against the flooring.
You decide if you should run out downstairs to see him, but you hear him walking up already and opening the bedroom door. You stay in your position: on your side with the covers up to your neck. Harry can’t see that you’re still awake. You don’t know why you aren’t moving to get up and attack him with kisses, perhaps your nervous for some reason.
Harry makes his way into the bathroom and you decide to sit up and wait for him.
You contemplate what to say to him. You’re not sure why it’s different this time round, but obviously something has changed, way before the recent article that was released.
Once the bathroom door swings open, Harry was about to walk out, but stop immediately, surprised you’re awake.
“Oh, why are you up?”
‘Hi, I missed you’, to you too.
“You told me you were coming home today. I texted you,” you said softly.
“Yeah, I was suppose to, but some of the lads wanted to go out for drinks and my phone was off,” he says as he goes into the walk in closet.
“The lads as in?”
“Lads from the band and tour crew.” You’re completely shocked.
“Harry, I haven’t seen you in at least three months and you see them every single day. Why do you need to hang out with them even more when you said you would be home?”
“Because I fucking wanted to? They’re my friends and I wanted to go out for a drink with them.”
“Yeah, but the purpose of taking a week off was to be at home and not think about anything else.”
“Would you back the fuck off? If I want to go out, then I’ll go out. I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he rolls his eyes.
“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just trying to understand your logic.” He doesn’t say anything, but scoff. Tears begin to well up in my eyes as he gets in the covers on the bed. He laid on his side, his back facing me.
“I-I just missed you, is all.” You didn’t hear him say anything, but sigh deeply.
“Missed you too,” he mumbled into the pillow. You took a deep breath and laid back down.
“I love you,” you said softly, but you know he heard you loud and clear. But he doesn’t say anything back and your heart starts to break.
You’re waken by your right arm cramping up from laying on it the entire night. You glance at the clock, reading that it’s 7:00 a.m. You’re also waken by Harry rummaging through his things.
“Harry? What are you doing? Get back in bed,” you said tiredly as you prop your elbow to lean on it.
He ignores you and continues going inside the closet and back out. You adjust your eyes and sit up fully, seeing that he’s packing. Not unpacking, but packing. He’s putting more clothes in his suitcase, if not all. And that’s what fully awakes you. It’s like all the tiredness from the previous night and early morning vanished.
“W-Why are you packing? What are you doing?” You’re panicking as he doesn’t say anything to you. You get out of bed and look inside the closet, most of his clothes are off the hangers and in the suitcase.
“W-Wait, stop. Just stop. Hold on. Why are you packing?” He hears the shakiness in your voice and he feels bad, so he stops for a second to turn around and look at you.
Your eyes are glossy, “what’s going on?”
He sighs deeply before he says, “I’m leaving.”
“What? Why? Where are you going? You have a whole week!” You feel tears at the corner of your eye, threatening to fall down.
“I just need to get out of here. I can’t stay here any longer.”
“But you just got home! Why are you leaving already?!” Tears are now streaming down your face and there’s no way that you can stop it.
“I told you I can’t stay here any longer,” he repeats.
“Is it me? That’s why you’re leaving? I didn’t mean to nag when you got home, I just missed you so much,” you approach him, putting your hands on his shoulders.
“Please, why are you leaving me?” Harry isn’t looking at you. He looks straight ahead as you put your hands on his cheeks, trying to pull them down so he can look at you and you could kiss him, but he wouldn’t bug.
He’s about to say something, but his ringtone is loud on his dresser. He makes a move to get it, but you beat him to it. You don’t want to and you never were one of those girlfriends who looked at their boyfriend’s phone, but you couldn’t help it. The caller id was a woman’s name. One that you recognized from one of the articles.
He watches you as you glance down and looks up at him with sad eyes. “Here,” you say as you hand his phone to him.
You watch him as he looks down at it, realizing who’s calling, and answers it, “hello? Yeah… I know… I’m almost done… just-just wait for me. Bye.” ‘So he is leaving me.’ You think.
You don’t say anything as he hangs up and just looks at you. You can tell he wants you to say something, but what’s there to say?
“I gotta go.”
“So I heard.”
“Look-“
“Are you cheating on me?” You had to ask.
“What?” He questions, not sure if he heard you right.
“You heard me.”
“I-I can’t believe you would think that I would cheat on you,” he says, “but if you need to know, no, I did not cheat on you and I never had.”
You don’t say anything as you watch him zip up his suitcase. He heads for the door before he turns arounds to get a look at you.
“Tell me when,” you say.
“What?” He furrows his eyebrows.
“Tell me, when did you fall out of love with me?” Your eyes are practically a waterfall.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say when or how or why. He doesn’t even say that he never fell out of love. He just stayed quiet.
“You know, it hurts. Yeah, cheating is horrible and wrong, but knowing that you fell out of love with me and I couldn’t do anything about it? That hurts. A lot. And the fact you’re not even denying it, hurts even more.” You pause. “And if you walk out that door, we’re done.”
He still stays silent as he looks down with guilt. You both hear a honk outside of the door that he is about to walk through. He is about to leave the one place that made you feel safe when he was with you. And he is about to walk out of your life.
The day you met him, you couldn’t breathe. There were so many people on that train, stepping in and out. And you couldn’t breathe. It was crowded. It was so crowded you thought about walking home from five stops away, but you didn’t. You didn’t and it was possibly the best decision you made because you met Harry. And once you started taking to him, it was like the world around you disappeared, and you slowly caught your breath. Being with him for four years, you felt like you were in the wilderness that had crisp air. The one that was so fresh and satisfying.
But now you couldn’t breath again.
You walk towards the stairs, not bearing to see him step on your heart and leave it hopelessly.
“Goodbye, Harry.”
Part two
let me know if you want a part 2 and if you want to be tagged!
805 notes · View notes
Text
PhenQ Reviews & Benefit: Weight Loss Pill
Tumblr media
Many people in the world are in search of a way to lose weight. They are not comfortable with their figure or because they are having health problems. Regardless of the reason, you can always find a suitable way to lower your weight.
That is why, in this article, we will talk about the PhenQ Reviews & Benefits of them. As well as we will treat some other aspects of these so that you are informed. In this way, you can decide if you want to use them to remove fat from your body.
Tumblr media
Table Of Content:
What is PhenQ
How Does PhenQ Work?
PhenQ’s Ingredients
Benefits
Disadvantages
PhenQ Reviews
Tumblr media
What is PhenQ?
PhenQ is one of the highest quality pills for people who want to lose weight. With the intake of them, you can achieve your mission quickly and safely.
It was been scientifically proven to work. Thanks to the composition of PhenQ, your metabolism is acceleration. Just like, it can increase your body heat. When it is warmer, calories are burn more quickly.
The ideal in this type of tablet is that while you lose body fat, you increase your muscle mass. This means that you will never be excessively thin. Rather, you will maintain the muscle mass that every human body needs to have.
While it is true, many pills promise this and do not deliver. However, that is not the case with PhenQ. With these the opposite happens, they comply with what they say in their description. To test it, we will talk more deeply about these pills.
OFFICIAL WEBSITE
How Does PhenQ work?
Unlike other types of weight loss products, PhenQ works in a particular way. It is not only governance by an operating mode, but it integrates five in the entire process. This is what allows you to make sure that fat comes out of your body. The ways they work are as follows:
Burning Fat
Like any other weight loss tablet, the first thing it does is burn body fat. When you start taking it, it is responsible for speeding up the fat-burning process. So you can get rid of that large amount of harmful fat that you have in your body.
This is something you achieve through two processes that we had previously mentioned. First, speed up your body’s metabolism. Second, increase Thermogenic rates. This means that the amount of heat you will have increases. The factor that instantly makes you loses weight.
Stops Fat Production
Hand in hand with this, it takes care of another fundamental thing, which is to paralyze the production of fat. With this, it ensures that you do not regain the fact that you are losing. At least that is the way it will be for the entire time you will be taking this medication.
This is one of the most important factors in operation. It is carrying out thanks to the combination of ingredients it has. As you lower, the possibility that you may gain weight again is eliminate.
Increase The Energy Of Your Organism
Another essential part of how PhenQ works is that it increases your energy. Some people, when they are on a strict diet, can lose a lot of energy. Because to the elimination of certain foods in your daily meals.
With the help of these tablets, the situation will reverse. Instead of losing energy, you will gain much more. This is something that will allow you to face your day to day with more force.
Reduce Your Appetite
Continuing with the goal of burning fat, this pill is responsible for reducing your appetite. You will no longer feel like eating fatty things in large quantities. Now you can eat small amounts of food, but they are still strictly necessary.
By doing this effect on your body, it will help you in the process of reducing your body weight. Make faster and more effective. PhenQ’s Reviews are very good regarding this way of working.
Allows You To Keep A Good Mood
The last function these tablets fulfill is that it keeps you in a good mood. If you have tried dieting before, you know they can make you upset. Instead, with the use of these pills, you make sure to keep a good mood throughout the journey.
The combination of all these functions is what makes the results so evident. Very few pills can achieve what PhenQ does for those who ingest it. Most of the way this works thanks to the ingredients, which we will discuss it.
CHECK CUSTOMER TESTIMONIALS
PhenQ’s Ingredients
Tumblr media
These diet pills make of a few key ingredients. These, in turn, are responsible for ensuring that the fat reduction process occurs effectively. In total, there are also five ingredients.
Capsimax Powder
The powder called capsimax has a mixture of key ingredients for weight loss. Among those are bell pepper, caffeine, piperine, and niacin. The latter also know as vitamin B3. Within the composition of capsimax powder, there are ingredients responsible for increasing body heat. Read More About Ingredients Here
Caffeine
On the other hand, we have caffeine as an individual and a fundamental ingredient. This component intends to help you maintain or increase your energy. In this way, you can carry out your daily routine with the necessary power. Especially if you want to do some exercise?
Chromium Picolinate
Chromium Picolinate is one of the best-known minerals worldwide. It can be easily obtain in some foods. The function of this is to help you suppress some cravings for foods that are not healthy. It does this by absorbing sugar in the blood.
L-Carnitine Fumarate
In the case of Carnitine, you can get it in green vegetables. It intends to transform the fat that your body stores into energy. Therefore, it helps in two important functions: the elimination of fat and the increase in energy.
Nopal
The Nopal is a food that is full of a large amount of fiber. Thanks to this, you can have better control of your appetite. In addition, if the reason for your overweight is fluid retention, this cactus will help you. With fiber in your body, you can easily expel fluids from your body.
CHECK COMPLETE LIST OF INGREDIENTS
  Benefits
As you can see for yourself, PhenQ has enormous benefits. For you to finish convincing yourself about these tablets, we will mention some benefits. Later, we will talk about the disadvantages so that you have good contrast.
Tumblr media
Fat Burning Scientifically Proven
Burning fat is the first advantage that we should mention in this list. In addition to that, we can rely on the basis that the pills have scientifically proven. It fully confirms that they work normally in people.
High Quality Formula
This medicine produced in two great places in the world: the United States and the United Kingdom. Therefore, the quality of the product is something that maintained. PhenQ pills have excellent reviews thanks to this specific point.
Contains Incredible Components
The ingredients that make up these tablets have components that have great benefits. That is why you will get plenty of fiber, vitamins, minerals, etc. All these components will help you to preserve your general well-being.
Your Mood and Energy Will Improve
Another great advantage of taking these pills is the change in your mood. With them, you will not feel bad about the diet process. As we mentioned, improve your mood, disposition, and good mood. Which will help you do your best to reduce fat?
Similarly, it will help you increase your energy. Therefore, you can accompany PhenQ with some exercise routines. This would help you speed up the reduction of your body weight.
Weight Loss Generates Naturally
Some medications resort to using strange chemicals to lose weight. They can do you a lot of damage. Instead, PhenQ generates all that process naturally. Because to the use of minerals, fiber, vitamins, etc.
Each of the ingredients used achieve naturally in some foods. Only they united in the pads so that the effect of lowering is noticeable faster. Either way, you should not worry about the use of any type of chemical, additive, or ingredient out of the ordinary.
You Have Guarantee
Tumblr media
Something that does not usually happen with the pills is that they have a guarantee available. However, they do keep that option available. You have a maximum of 60 days of guarantee. During that time, you will be able to try the pills. If you are not convinced with them, they will return your money without any problem.
CHECK OTHER BENEFITS!
Disadvantages
Now like everything in this life, PhenQ has some downsides. We have to mention so that you know this type of tablet well. However, it still has more benefits than disadvantages.
Possible Side Effects
Since it is a kind of medicine, it can cause some adverse effects. This is something that will vary according to the organism of each person. The product has 60 days Guarantee.
The most basic side effects range from headaches to possible nausea. However, you should be aware of your body’s reaction to the pill. Especially since, you can be allergic to any of the ingredients that compose it.
Single Presentation
You will not get PhenQ as an oral solution. You will only find it in the pill version. This drawback is something that has more to do with taste than with the product itself. Although it is necessary to mention it in case, you are looking for another type of presentation of it.
Buy PhenQ on The Website
This disadvantage does not have much to do with the pads and their operation either. The only place from which you can buy these tablets is through their website. You will not be able to get them in any type of physical store or pharmacy. However, shipping is free to anyone. Get Discount Here
The Taste Is a Little Unpleasant
The taste that these tablets leave in your mouth can be unpleasant. It may be something that bothers some people. In that case, we recommend that you ingest it with some juice or drink it while eating.
READ MORE!
PhenQ Reviews
The PhenQ reviews have turned out to be quite positive. In fact, in total, there are 190,000 satisfied people. They are customers who have bought, tested, and had an excellent result. Therefore, there are many opinions that we will mention about tablets.
Tumblr media
Before - After
Tumblr media
  If there is one thing in which the testimonies of these people agree, it is speed. The speed with which PhenQ works is amazing. Anyone who ingests it will be able to witness the results in a few days or months. The time will vary according to the routine and the weight of the person.
However, there are cases where it has worked very well. For example, some lose up to 5 kilos per month. Actually, it to give an estimated example of time although some can reduce a lesser amount of weight in a greater amount of time.
ORDER NOW
1 note · View note
crystaljins · 5 years
Text
Latte Hearts
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Characters: Seokjin x Reader
Word count: 1.6 K
Synopsis:  6. Coffeeshop au + 2. Enemies to lovers + 19. “Suck on that.”  [drabble game]
Notes: @wilhelminalucinda I hope this is what you wanted. If not, then I hope it’s fluffy enough that you can pretend it was haha
If anyone had told Jin two months ago that he would be waking up in your apartment, in your bed no less, to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and you softly singing in the background, he would have laughed them out of his café. After all, you were the most demanding, irritating customer to ever cross the threshold into the small space he thought of as a second home. You always ordered contrary to the recommendations he had drafted up carefully on his little chalkboard, the one he lovingly rested against the cash register. You always sculled the scalding coffee like you were a college girl offered free tequila shots and one time you had ordered a to-go coffee, pulled out a packet of instant coffee and poured it straight into his carefully crafted masterpiece. Every morning his mood was ruined as you graced his beloved café with bed hair and circles under your eyes darker than the blackest pits of hell where you belonged.
So no one had been more surprised than him when one day you stormed into his café in tears, begging him to teach you how to make the perfect cup of coffee. Now Jin has never been the kind of man to leave a lady in tears, no matter how repulsive she may be. And as much as he loathes you and your disgusting coffee-drinking ways, he could only see the advantage in such an offer. If he were to teach you to properly appreciate coffee, perhaps you would finally appreciate the mastery in the dozens of freshly brewed caffeinated beverages he churns out each morning for an exhausted and sleep-deprived slew of office workers. He was doing himself, and any other future baristas you cursed with your presence, a favour. That, and you had promised you would never again occupy one of his tables with your study notes for hours again and to grant any favour he asked for in return. There is nothing he hates in this world more than broke university students using his café as a free library when the universities in the area had constructed more than adequate study spaces.
And so his lessons had begun, sporadically at first because, as he quickly discovered, your schedule is ludicrously hectic. You work three part time jobs in addition to a fulltime internship while caring for your family when you can manage a trip back to your hometown. It would be enough to burn anyone out and probably explained why you treat caffeine like it is cocaine and the solution to all life’s problems. And then you had started to enjoy yourself, and he had watched you bloom into a full-fledged coffee lover. He noticed that a few weeks in, your instant coffee supply had mysteriously vanished and you had stopped adding absurd amounts of sugar to the coffees he made you. What had started as you trying to impress your fussy supervisor at your internship who you had been pretty sure was going to kick you out for ruining her coffee order had turned into something much more than that.
Still, waking up in your room after pulling an all-nighter with you is probably him hitting a new low. He’s no stranger to waking up in stranger’s beds- after all, he’s a good looking guy and women are surprisingly susceptible to the whole I’m-a-talented-barista-and-I-look-like-a-model angle he has going on. But regardless, he has already compromised himself and his beliefs far too much to be pulling this kind of stunt. He’s not even sure what happened- one moment he had been teaching you how to make the perfect latte heart, (and throwing in a few hilarious quips at your total inability to create one) and the next he had been having dinner with you while laughing over your atrocious vegetable-chopping technique, and then he had been watching a movie that you swore on your life would change his entire outlook on life, and then the buses hadn’t been running anymore and you had graciously offered your bed for him to stay the night since your roommate was away for the weekend and she was happy for you to sleep in her bed. And now here he is, shaking off the last remnants of sleep. He can’t seem to bring himself to lift his head- your sheets smell like you and with the warm embrace of your plushy comforter he can almost fool himself into thinking that it is you keeping him warm rather than the pillow he hugs tightly to his torso.
Still, with inhuman strength, he manages to drag himself out of bed when the tempting smell of warm coffee and a freshly cooked breakfast becomes more powerful than his urge to sleep. And he pads into your kitchen where you are wearing pajamas bottoms with little ice cream cones on them and an oversized shirt that your tiny figure is drowning in. You’re huddled over the kitchen counter, focusing so intently on something that you don’t notice the eggs are burning behind you. He quickly shuffles over to the stovetop, intent on flipping them, when he nearly dies of a heart attack at the triumphant screech you release. He leaps about a metre in the air and whips around, ready to assault whatever had frightened you with an oily spatula.
“I did it!” You crow. “Suck on that, Kim Seokjin!” You shout. It is only then that you register his presence in the kitchen with you, one hand clutched to his heart and the other wielding the spatula like a sword. You blink a few times and then your expression turns sheepish (and a little shy if he squints but he doesn’t want to look too closely lest his heart do that annoying fluttering thing its been prone too lately). “Oh. Good morning.” You offer, bowing your head with no small amount of embarrassment. “I didn’t realise that you were there- I… I made us breakfast.” You say, gesturing to the now-burning eggs, the messy kitchen and one single coffee mug beside you on the kitchen counter. Seokjin takes the opportunity to slide the eggs onto the plates beside your stove before they become inedible, and then inches closer to the single coffee mug.
It’s one of those corny ones, with a little cartoony kitten taking a nap on a branch with the declaration that the owner of the mug is a crazy cat lady. You don’t even own a cat but one would never guess it based on the large amount of the furniture and pyjama shirts that claimed you were obsessed with your pet cat. And inside the mug is a slightly misshapen but surprisingly well-crafted latte heart, floating in the centre. He finds himself smiling before he can control his expression.
“Not bad.” He admits, smiling at your earnest attempt. But then he wipes the smile off his face because his heart does that annoying fluttering thing again. He turns to offer you constructive criticism but finds you much closer than anticipated in your tiny kitchen. You almost have him pressed to the kitchen counter with the way you had been leaning in close to observe his expression. And now your face is close enough, despite the height difference, that he can see the way you’ve washed your face for once and your lashes are long and almost brush the apples of your cheeks as you blink, and the way there is a slight pout to your bottom lip as you stare intently up at him with an expectant look that has him short of breath. He makes a mental note to visit a cardiologist later and get tested for an arrythmia because his stubborn heart is misbehaving.
“Really?” You ask eagerly. “Do you think I did well? Would I make a decent barista?”
You’re like a puppy, looking for praise and attention and it makes him smile. But the smile quickly slides off his face as he realises something- your coffee making skills are improving at an alarming rate. At this pace, the lessons will no longer be necessary and in a few short weeks and you won’t even stop by his café to study. All because he made you promise you wouldn’t do that once the barista-lessons were finished. Which means… he won’t have any more excuses to see you anymore! Which, just two short months ago, was all he wanted in life. But now the thought is… it’s… Well, it’s positively abhorrent. In just two short months he’s come to adore and appreciate your eagerness and your determination and though most of the time you are poorly kept and groomed, there is something pretty beneath the sleep deprivation and messy hair. He’d even go so far as to say the way your eyes spark and your whole face lights up when you smile is beautiful. And now he’s orchestrated the perfect removal of what he had thought was a dark spot to his mornings, just as he realised that you’re actually the brightest part of his day.
His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as he makes up his mind.
“No, this is absolutely atrocious.” He says, sniffing distastefully at your concoction. It actually smells quite good and the more he looks at the little lopsided heart, the more charming it becomes. Your face falls. He shakes his head like he’s ashamed of you. “But being a barista is a skillset that requires a lifetime of study to master.” He explains. “So I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”
You look puzzled and he wishes the look wasn’t so endearing.
“You’ll just have to keep studying under me until you master it, I guess.”
104 notes · View notes
officialtrashbin · 4 years
Text
Saudade
Trade w/ @artistanilu who wanted Ballista just as much as I did.
ProxiVus, GrimNight, and ProxiMaw. NSFW
In which Proxima tells Corvus about Butcher Squadron, and recounts a few stories about the people she used to know.
* * *
You are Proxima Midnight.
You’re in love; not for the first time, but you suspect this will be the last.
* * *
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Close your eyes. Are you thinking of someone else?”
You look down at him. Here, in the safety of Corvus’ quarters, you feel you can be honest with yourself, and the bond it forms between you is an afterthought. “Of course not, but I will not lie—the familiarity is often distracting. There was another before you.”
“You’ve never spoken of them.”
“Why would I?” you say. “It was a long time ago. Besides.” You reach down and stroke one of the sharp blades jutting from his skull. “You are such a jealous creature.”
“You wound me.”
“You’ll heal.”
He snorts. You laugh, a rare and precious thing, meant only for him.
He puts his hands on your thighs and spreads them open. “I want you to watch.”
“I am,” you say. “You have my attention. Always.”
* * *
Years ago, Ballista collapses next to you in bed, and toes off her boots. You’re sick off cheap whiskey and damn near broke because you both kind of suck at Stellar Split, but the assholes who fix the engines in C-Sector suck worse and don’t know when to quit. In nothing but your garments, the air from the vents runs over you, and Ballista mentions how it could be cooler in here.
“Hey, Midna,” Ballista says, shucking off her pants, “do you have any fears?”
“None.”
“There has to be something.”
“Nothing,” you tell her.
Ballista rolls over and kisses your neck. Sucks a blue bruise into your collarbone.
“Mm… Why? What about you?”
“I’m scared of a lot of things.” Ballista’s hands are curious, bunching up your undershirt and her lips find the soft blue skin beneath. “What happened to Infesti really—I mean, I’m just gonna cut to the chase. I don’t want to lose you.”
“That’s how it is.”
It’s all you can conjure up, hearing something like that, and so suddenly. You tilt your chin up and let Ballista leave a trail of love bites on your chest.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you’re afraid of?”
You close your eyes so you don’t have to look at Ballista’s face.
Then,
“Like I said, Lista. I’m not afraid.”
* * *
“I hadn’t meant to say it that way. Not like that.”
Corvus is listening to you talk. He’s laid out beside you, like he’s meant to be there, looking at your face, and you think this might be what kills the spark you feel when he’s near. You might say the wrong thing.
“Did you love her?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” you say to him. “Still, I cannot help but imagine…this is what I should have felt, and this is how she felt. What does that say about me?”
“I think it says nothing.”
“But it does.”
But it isn’t your fault this has happened. It isn’t your fault, when your hands tremble and your stomach sinks to your knees and your scars burn under the promise of his claws. It’s fear and it happens. But his words are soft, and he likes you in ways Ballista didn’t—through the bloodshed, the violence, the death. He continues to look at you long after she would have looked away from what you really are.
You have a split lip from the battle earlier today that undoes itself from the strain of you biting it, and Corvus takes your cheek and licks the rivulet of blood from your chin to your mouth and kisses you in a way that will haunt you forever.
You think you aren’t afraid of him, only of what you feel for him.
And what you feel for him means facing what you did.
* * *
The girl’s name is Gamora and you hate her, but she is Thanos’. It doesn’t stop you from thinking her better off dead, somewhere else.
Still. It isn’t all bad. You know children and nobles both can be easily bribed, so you set to work—you dip thin fiberglass strings into sugar water and leave them to crystalize in a cold oxygen chamber overnight, and in the morning you scrape the pale candy into a bowl and take it with you to lunch. You don’t care for sweets, but Gamora is a child, and it only takes a few minutes of her leering at you from across the room before she approaches.
“Got enough to share?”
You almost laugh. She’s got no manners, though you learn quickly this is the closest she’ll ever come to asking you nicely for anything.
“Don’t you know the rules?” you say smugly, popping a piece into your mouth. “Everything has value, and what is valued can be traded for. Secrets are worth the most.”
So she tells you, “Maw keeps those rice cakes he likes up in a jar by the air vent. I break in sometimes and take a few. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
You say, “Good. Keep this in mind.”
You give her a piece. She looks down at it, carefully rolling it in her palm. “That’s it?”
“Fine.” You give her another. “Just this once.”
Gamora is a quick study. She learns that secrets will earn her candy, or more, if you happen to have it—cool knives, neat trinkets. She tells you mostly about Maw and his grandiose ideas of mutiny.
You listen. Intently.
* * *
One of the things you’ve never told Corvus is what happened with the Ebony Maw, so you tell him that too, since the mind leech is in the picture now. It makes no difference how Corvus might feel about the memory. He is listening, holding you against him, and you are talking.
* * *
You walk in on Maw sucking off one of the crew lackeys who unloads the old cargo from E-Sector and you know you shouldn’t interrupt, so you stand in the shadow at the end of the hall and wait for them to finish. The Human tucks himself back in and leaves. He doesn’t see you, but Maw does without having to look.
He zips up and says, “Enjoy the show?”
You scoff. “Only if you consider beating a dog with a club enjoyable.”
“He did make an awful cacophony of noise, didn’t he?” Maw sighs. “To be quite honest, I’ve given better, and I don’t feel any worse than when I started. This night is simply full of tragic stalemates, isn’t it?”
“Cut the shit. Want to drink?”
Maw raises his eyebrow. “Just us?”
“Yes.”
That’s never a good idea.
You drink with him anyway and polish off a bottle by yourself. Neither of you feels like socializing in the lounge or anywhere near the flight crews, so you go to his room and sit on the floor with your backs to the bed, and you talk.
“Had a fight with Lista.”
“Oh, I’m fully aware. She was in the shooting range with the brothers, venting about the whole situation.” Maw chuckles, and drinks. “You’re a cold-hearted woman, Proxima.”
“I know.”
“Need to let it out?”
You’re ashamed to admit that you consider it for a moment too long. It’s a bad idea. The fight with Lista was over her leaving and it’s not that serious, not right now, but you keep drinking and it seems like it could be.
So you say yes.
It’s not half-bad though. For once, he listens to your instructions, fucks you with three fingers and is even smart enough to put his thumb on your clit to make you come a few times; he only touches you where you tell him to, and almost kills the mood boasting about gods-know-what. Still, you’re having a bit of fun, even if it is Maw, and it does the trick.
In the morning, you take him up on his offer to shower together, where you go down on him to return the favors of the night. It doesn’t really mean anything, but it takes the edge off.
After you’ve dressed, nothing changes between the two of you, though you do notice he brushes his shoulder against yours sometimes, and you surprise yourself by not immediately pulling away.
Ballista comes to apologize. You two make up by the end of the day. When you reflect on it, you realize you were being selfish—always so goddamn miserable and biting and selfish. The guilt almost kills you. It bores a hole into the very goddamn center of your chest.
You don’t tell her about Maw.
* * *
“You can be selfish with me,” Corvus says, and you look at his sharp teeth. He’s missed the point. Or maybe he’s ignoring it. Either way, he kisses you and it unsurprisingly turns into sex for the third time that night. He gets on his back and lets you ride him until you’re both spent, and he touches you the way you couldn’t describe until now—as if in worship.
Afterwards, you lay curled up together. “I understand now,” you say to him. “I fear losing you, though you are quite immortal, and that should make me feel otherwise. Do you fear losing me?”
Corvus kisses the back of your hand. “Do not misunderstand. Though you are and will always be important, as you are everything, I have learned that there is more beyond mortality. When I am gone, I will wait for you in death.”
“What if I go first?”
“Will you wait for me?”
You touch his cheek. “Of course.”
“Then, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Ballista always used to say how if something feels important, it should be remembered. So you commit this moment to memory because gods above does this feel important.
“Will you marry me, Proxima Midnight?”
* * *
Years ago, you were under threadbare covers, with your head on Ballista’s chest, counting her heartbeats. She smokes a stick and strokes your shoulder and makes you feel wanted. The threat of mutiny leaves a bad taste in your mouth most nights. It becomes difficult to be around her without wanting to escape through the window. You know it isn’t her doing, but it eats away at you regardless.
“I can’t wait to get out of here,” she tells you. “You should come with me, when this is all over. We can find work just about everywhere else in this vast and empty void.”
“Maybe.”
That’s all you can say, all you want to say.
She adds, nonchalant, as if casually peeling a vegetable by a kitchen window, (and you wonder now why you imagined that), “We could get married.”
You don’t know how that makes you feel. It should feel important.
It doesn’t.
“Yes,” you say, just to hear words spoken in the quiet. “But first, let’s just get through tomorrow…”
18 notes · View notes
broomsandbrews · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
100 ways to incorporate magick in your daily life. 
I understand that these are not exactly all witchy but this is about intergreting your everyday life in your practice and appreciating as well as finding magick in the most mundane and simple things that we often miss out on. ♡
1. When you wake up, before grabbing your phone or getting out of bed, take a few seconds to breathe, and stretch all your limbs.
2. Say ‘’thank you’’ to your god/goddess/deity, or simply to acknowledge how lucky you are to live another day.
3. Open the window regardless of the weather and take a big breath of fresh air. This will not only cleanse the room but also your body. 
4. If it’s raining outside or snowing, take a minute to admire the beauty of it. 
5. Pick wildflowers (please don’t pick any endangered flowers or toxic ones, do your research).
6. Dry said wildflowers and put them in your Book of Shadows or any book or journal you are using.
7. Go for a walk in nature during the day and during the night as well. 
8. Sunbathe.
9. Moonbathe.
10. Light lots of candles.
11. If your room needs a cleaning, try to make your own household products naturally using your favorite scents and clean your room with them. 
12. Change your bed sheets and pillowcases.
13. If you have a clothing line, hang your clothes, blankets, sheets, comforters, pillowcases, underwear outside. Visualize the wind cleansing them. 
14. Grow your own favorite herbs. 
15. Buy a succulent. 
16. Dry your herbs and save them for bath magick, spells, teas or rituals. 
17. Sweep the floor and visualize yourself sweeping off all negativity out of the room. 
18. Sprinkle sea salt over areas that you feel have a negative energy to purify them.
19. Make your own purifying/cleansing spray. 
20. Take a hot, soothing bath. I am a sea witch so I find this particularly helpful when I miss the ocean/the beach. (Don’t forget to add herbs, essential oils, sea salt, flowers, crystals, or anything that has magickal properties for a magickal bath)
21. Sip a cup of your favorite herbal tea.
22. For kitchen witches, try brewing your own tea, and cooking meals with intention and magickal ingredients.
23. Make charm bags. 
24. Water your herb garden by hand. 
25. Show the people you love that you love them.
26. Show some love to your pets and spend a few extra minutes with them. 
27. Light up your favorite incense.
28. Keep a small bag of your favorite herb (for example: lavender) in a drawer, so when you feel stressed, just pop the bag open for a deep breath of calming aromatherapy. 
29. When you take a shower, visualize the water neutralizing your energy and washing off all the bad stuff. 
30. Bless your morning coffee or tea.
31. Keep a daily journal, whether it’s a Book of Shadows, a daily planner/organizer or a dream journal. 
32. If you wanna be low-key and discrete about your craft, draw small sigils all over everything. Your school notebooks, pencil cases, journals, shoes, etc. 
33. Read lots of books about magick and form your own opinion/path/views/beliefs.
34. If you read fictional stories, allow yourself to get lost in them and let your mind wander and escape. 
35. Put on your favorite clothes, makeup, shoes, or whatever little thing that makes you feel fabulous, even if you’re staying in. 
36. Be proud of your body.
37. Practice self-care.
38. Take time to unplug and spend time with yourself. (that includes smartphones, iPads, laptops, tablets, desktops, and all electronics/little gadgets we lug around on a daily basis.)
39. Go to the beach
40. Go to the forest.
41. Go to the desert. 
42. Go to the mountains. 
43. If it’s warm outside, make a bonfire and admire the flames. If it’s winter and you have a fireplace, light it up. 
44. Go somewhere you’ve never visited before. 
45. Go camping if you can, by yourself or with friends. 
46. Stargaze.
47. Breathe.
48. Dance.
49. Dance in the rain.
50. Sing.
51. Go outside in a snowstorm (but don’t drive and most importantly know if it’s safe or not. Be careful.)
52. Plant a vegetable garden, even if it’s just a pot of tomatoes. 
53. Walk barefoot and feel the earth under your feet.
54. Pull weeds.
55. Adopt an animal from the shelter.
56. Practice yoga.
57. Eat healthy, but if you wanna eat that last piece of cake, do it. Life is short.
58. Exercise.
59. Start a new hobby.
60. Mix your own perfume.
61.Make your own candle.
62. Make your own essential oil.
63. Make your own soap. 
64. Lay down and listen to your favorite music. (Mine is video game music, it’s just soothing for me.
65. Take a day just for you without answering the phone.
66. Pick dandelions and make a wish.
67. Carry crystals/stones with your in your pocket. 
68. Learn how to do tarot readings.
69. Collect rain, sun, snow water.
70. Plant lavender or rosemary for protection and luck. 
71. Bless your kitchen utensils, such as spatulas and wooden spoons, that all the food you make with them will promote healing and love. 
72. Charge your crystals under the full moon. 
73. Have tantric sex with a loving partner. 
74. Carve sigils into the sand at the beach and let the tides release them into the universe.
75. Re-arrange your altar. 
76. Keep track of your sleep and menstrual cycles and moods to see how the moon phases affect you.
77. Be open minded to the retrogrades.
78. Go outside on any phase of the moon and take in all its beauty. 
79. Keep your pendulum with you as a necklace so you’re always ready to do a little scrying. 
80. Burn sage or cedar first thing in the morning to start your day off fresh.
81. Look for constellations and learn them. 
82. Paint sigils on your mailbox.
83. Hang wood chimes, or a silver bell on your front door knob for luck.
84. Tuck a sprig of lavender under your pillow before bed to promote peaceful sleep. 
85. Watch a meteor shower with someone you care about.
86. Buy new candles. 
87. Water your plants in your garden counterclockwise to banish negativity from the space.
88. Paint your nails a color associated with the intention of your spell or ritual before you begin so that your hands become your wand. 
89. Plant red geraniums by your front door as this is a traditional sign of witches.
90. Bless more than water and crystals on the night of the full moon: set out your essential oils, nail polish, or a special bottle of champagne too. 
91. Dry your vegetables or plants and incorporate them into a charm bag. 
92. Wash your windows with moon water for extra clarity.
93. Use sun water when you brew tea for a magickal experience. 
94. Stir sugar into your tea or coffee with intention, willing sweetness into your day and life. 
95. Draw sigils or write a brief protection spell on the inside of your dog or cat’s collar.
96. Soak in a milk bath (or just soak your fingers in a bowl of warm milk) on the full moon to embrace the feminine energy. Plus you’ll come away with silky, soft skin. 
97.Hang up palmistry and astrology charts in your home for easy reference and pretty, witchy decor. 
98. Line your windowsills with protective crystals. 
99. Make censing sticks for the seasons, using chamomile buds for spring, lavender for summer, sage for fall and pine for winter. 
100. Just be you and love yourself. Don’t forget you are made of stardust. You are magickal and amazing.
30K notes · View notes
ready-to-obeyme · 4 years
Text
[OM!] Domestic Ship Meme: Mammon/MC
Tumblr media Tumblr media
//hehe thanks for sending in something! :) here u go 
[Domestic Ship Meme]
--
who reaches out to new neighbors
If the two of you are fine without approaching your neighbors, then that's fine by Mammon! He wouldn't mind being more private but he also won't stop it if neighbors do decide to talk to him. With Mammon, you honestly can't predict what can happen-- he could be absolutely adored by the old ladies in the circle or completely despised by all the neighborhood kids (or even both). Whatever charm Mammon brings with him is what you get, but he assures you it's definitely not on purpose. 
"You think I care about what they think? I don't care as long as I've got you!" (But if you do have a chance for the neighbors to like him, take it. He's a social demon by heart.)
who remembers to buy healthy food
You do! When you go grocery shopping together, Mammon is focused on buying things he wants to try with you or that he thinks you like. He loves novelty flavors because it means you can try it for the first time together! Of course, someone has to make sure you two are surviving so you're the one putting actual vegetables and fruits into the cart in attempts to maintain a healthy diet.
who remembers to buy junk food
Mammon definitely does. Snacks do have the most variety in terms of trying something new AND they taste good. And Mammon is always down.
“We’re here for a good time, not a long time."
"Mammon, no--"
who fixes the oven when it breaks
Between the two of you, you have a bigger chance of fixing it. Mammon… tries his best, but even while following instructions, he keeps interrupting your progress by distracting you or by 'helping out.' And if you can't figure out, best just call someone to do it for you-- Mammon is more than willing to filch over the payment for it, isn't that right?
who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)
You water the plants, Mammon feeds the pets. He is either equally in love with them as you are and buys them all the best beds, foods, etc or a little jealous if you pay attention to your pets more than him. Regardless, he'd take responsibility for feeding them.
Plants just aren’t as interesting to him, but he will helpfully remind you to water them. If you convince him that you really care for the plants though, he might put more effort into taking care of them.
who wakes up earlier
Mammon does since he's actually a morning type of guy, but after waking up in the same bed as you, he's perfectly fine staying in bed till noon with you. Welcomes it, almost. Knowing he's usually up and at 'em in the morning but chose to cling to you in bed does make him extra endearing.
who makes the bed
You would, if you wanted to. Mammon is not really picky about this habit so he won’t make you do it and won’t care if you do. If you tell him to make the bed, he'll pout but he'll eventually do it.
who makes the coffee
You do, mainly because Mammon doesn't really drink coffee. If you're a coffee person, though, Mammon tries to make a cup for you each morning before you're awake so you can wake up to the smell of coffee. 
Or that's the theory anyways. Mammon somehow burns coffee or puts too much sugar in. But you drink it regardless-- he tried his best.
who burns breakfast
Mammon burns the breakfast because he makes breakfast-- breakfast that goes beyond the usual norm-- so often for you. He keeps trying to make REALLY extravagant breakfasts using recipes online and even from his brothers. Sometimes they don't work out well the first time he makes it (hence the burnt food), but he is anything if not persistent-- especially for you.
Eventually you ban him from going overboard because he was going out of hand on the budget… not that you don't enjoy being spoiled by him. It's nice to get breakfast in bed, and Mammon pampers you as long as you let him (and doesn't mind if you decide to reward him with a kiss or perhaps even something more.)
how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house
Mammon always makes sure you know when he's leaving, regardless of where you are in the house. Makes really loud announcements before he opens the door.
“I’m leaving! Ya better not miss me too much while I’m gone!”
But always waits for you to respond back so he knows you heard him. If you reply with a "Bye, sweetie!" or a "Come back soon!" he always, always blushes and is pretty happy when he leaves, a little spring in his step knowing he has you to come home to.
how do they greet each other when one of them gets home
"Babe?" Mammon opens the front door and peeks his head in. "Baaaaabe? I'm home!"
Always searches for you immediately when he gets home. If you're busy doing something, he'll prop his head on your shoulder and hug you from behind. Does get a little whiny if you don't give him attention and will try to distract you from whatever it is you're doing if it's not urgent or extremely important. 
When you do give him your full attention, he wraps you up into a big hug, but gets shy after so you give him a quick kiss back. The man can dish out affection but once you give it back he can't handle it.
who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often
Mammon does because he's a SIMP. 
Mammon loves being able to surprise you with gifts. As Avatar of Greed, he believes wholeheartedly that you deserve everything that he and the world can offer you. Anything that he believes will make you smile or put a little joy in your day, there is no hesitation in buying whatever it is for you.
The gifts range from the traditional bouquet of roses and box of chocolates, to the plushie in that one claw machine game you couldn’t win the other day, or the cute mug he commissioned to have your name embedded on it. The man is creative with his gifts and makes sure you never get bored of them. 
who picks the movie for movie night
The both of you fight over it playfully, stealing the remote and tickling or seducing each other into submission to have the right to choose the movie for the night.
Always end up splitting the right evenly anyhow.
their favorite kind of movie to watch
Mammon truly is weak for any heart-felt movies. His favorites are rom-coms because he always ends up crying a lot and he's super into happy endings. You always make fun of him for it (but jokes on you, you’re crying too and you two are a mess by the end of the movie).
who first suggests a pillow fort
Mammon does. No questions asked. If you have any inkling of wanting to build a pillow fort, he senses it and suggests it first every time. He loves that you always end up saying ‘yes’ to him-- and I think it’s one of the things that he loves about you: that you’re always down to do things with him and have fun without making him feel like he’s a child for enjoying certain things in life. He adores that you are able to appreciate every facet of his personality and indulges in the better parts of life together with him. 
who builds the pillow fort
Both of you build it together! More often than not, you end up in a pillow fight that distracts you from the actual fort building, but you do eventually get it done. By the time you build your magnificent fort, both of you are tuckered out and fall asleep holding hands underneath it. 
In the time before you fall asleep, Mammon enjoys the quiet conversations you have, talking about the future you will share and laughing at something that happened during the week. He adores you in the dim light, where it feels a little more private, brushing your hair away and smiling like he couldn't possibly be any happier than he is now.
who tries to distract the other during the movie
You like distracting Mammon because it's so easy to. He's initially engrossed by the movie, but once he notices you curling your arm around his chest and pressing your face to his neck, there is absolutely no way he's going to be paying attention to anything but you. He's always in the mood for you as long as you are, so any distraction from you means it's a greenlight for anything else you want to do for the night.
who falls asleep first
You fall asleep first. Whether it's during movie night or when you tuck into bed together, Mammon loves it when you fall asleep on him. He loves being close to you, and he feels at peace when you are relaxed in his arms because your trust means a lot to him.
who is big spoon/little spoon
It honestly switches depending on whether he wants attention or not that day. Boasts about being your big spoon because he gets to protect you and wrap his arms around you. Grumbles when he's small spoon because he's a little embarrassed, but loves it just the same because now he feels loved and protected, and you make sure he knows that.
255 notes · View notes
Text
Seducer (Witch Archetype)
Tumblr media
Sexuality is a difficult subject to broach with gaming groups, since you have to consider how each member feels about certain things. Some may want no sexual themes in their game at all, or to allow sex between characters, but gloss over it. A rare few may go to the opposite extreme as well.
All of these are entirely valid ways of viewing things and running games, and like many aspects of roleplaying games, you should understand everyone’s limits and work within them, both as a player and GM.
I say this because today we’re looking at an archetype that dips its toes into sexuality and conceptually cannot be entirely divorced from the subject. I speak of course, of the seducer witch.
The concept of beings of a mystical persuasion drawing those of the gender(s) of their choice into intimate encounters, sometimes as a pretense for more violent acts, is a classic trope in fiction and mythology. More specifically, today we’re looking at the classic image of the sensual enchanter/enchantress through the lens of old magic, the classic charming witch.
This archetype is primarily associated with The Green Mother, one of the fey demigods known as the Eldest and the patron divinity of every part of nature that lures prey. The light of an anglerfish, the sickly sweet nectar of carnivorous plants, the worm-like tongue of a snapping turtle, and yes, even the sensual wiles of a beautiful (or seemingly beautiful) person drawing in another into a trap.
It’s important to remember, however, that not everyone who enters the Green Mother’s embrace is killed or devoured. So too, not every seducer is necessarily a killer or a manipulator. Some may pay homage to divinities or spirits of fertility and passion, rather than of manipulation, behaving accordingly. What is important is that these mages, be they incredibly beautiful or simply charming beyond belief, know how to get what they want with charms both magical and mundane.
 Rather than intellect and knowledge, it is their charm and force of personality which helps them empower their spells and entice that knowledge from their patrons, whom are universally of the deception, enchantment, plant, thorns, or trickery aspect.
Naturally, seducers are blessed by their patron with a hex of charming, and theirs is particularly potent, especially if the target holds attraction for the witch, more so if they have acted on that attraction with them recently.
Channeling passionate energies, these mystics can temporarily overwhelm others with a brief act of passion, typically a kiss. Like their empowered charm hex, this magic is harder to resist the more intimate the victim has been with them.
Finally, these witches never have to worry about privacy when offering their passions, conjuring a magical bower that blocks sight and sound (not to mention most mood-killing weather). The interior, while filled with conjured vegetation, is always soothing and inviting, bolstering the healing of those within. Furthermore, those that engage in acts of passion with the seducer while within find their bodies and minds briefly bolstered thereafter, though not against the magic of the seducer themselves.
Whether you play these witches as lethal lovers, benign sensual healers, or a mix of both, this is a great themed archetype for an enchantment-focused witch, though of course talk with the rest of the group to establish boundaries, as always. For this archetype, I can recommend a strong focus on enchantment-based feats, spells, and hexes, though don’t forget to also branch out for variety and coverage.
 While enchanters that lack charisma exist, relying on their magic to garner allies or lovers, the charisma-based nature of this archetype guarantees that even the most homely of seducers sports an attractive charm in behavior if not in body, useful to know when building characters with it.
  The rain-frenzy of the shark-like adaro people is well-documented, but few outside of their culture know of the other way that storms make their blood rise. The priestess of the Coral Burn clan, Injessa, is a creature of powerful muscle, passion, and curves. Should she be impressed with the strength of even an outsider, she might invite them to receive her boon, a treasured amulet with powers over the ocean, provided they can survive her.
 Contrary to malicious stereotypes, Cenevere The Lover (The Harlot to her enemies) is a strong proponent of medicine and healing, making life safer for all, particularly those who share her other line of work. Her latest project is discovering a way to cure the curse-disease that torments the race of dragons known as taniniver.
 Though called the “Lampad King”, the moody masculine fey prefers the grim solitude favored by the rest of his species. On those occasions where he seeks comfort from others, those unions with the powerful ruler of Nassovyre Caverns give birth to beautiful, yet sullen children of fey lineage, regardless of his lover’s gender.
18 notes · View notes
cyberneticlagomorph · 5 years
Text
It's been a rough few days.
A rough, four days?
Even if your cage runs through a simulated day/night cycle, it's still difficult to tell the days apart with any modicum of accuracy.
You... aren't sure how long you've been here all together. Has it been long enough for people to notice your absence? Is anyone looking for you? Does anybody care enough to look, or are they all breathing a collective sigh of relief that you are finally gone, no longer trailing trouble to their doorsteps?
The thought keeps you up during simulated nights, staring up at the blank ceiling, missing home and the stars. Wondering if home misses you.
The emotional pain torments you almost as consistently as your physical pain. The fresh y-incision, and its stitches heal with a level of slowness that you aren't accustomed to. If this place had any magic, you'd already be right as rain. If this place had any magic, you could just teleport home. But it doesn't, so you can't. So you spend your fake days, in your too-soft bed, hurting, crying, sleeping. Like a fucking infant.
You hate it.
You hate being babied, treated like a helpless CHILD.
You hate that almost as much as you hate this.
People come in to check on you, people in full white suits with full-face masks and gloves, as if you were toxic or contagious. You actually are, but not in the ways you think they hope or expect. They don't talk to you, they just drift around your cell, keeping it clean, keeping you clean, checking your wounds. All eerily silent. You've tried talking to them, but they just ignore you until they've finished their work and leave.
Like human roombas.
It's... the most unsettling thing about this place thus far. Which is... saying something considering Moira is involved.
There is little to do here, in the emptiness, besides eating and sleeping. Your cage is practically empty, aside from your shower, your toilet, your bed. The place is a perfect circle, with a domed ceiling that glows during the day, gradually dimming as the evening approaches. Painfully white. There are no sharp edges, no clear corners. Even where floor meets wall, there is roundness, softness, security. No doors, no windows. Nothing to exploit.
Truly a prison built with you in mind.
In any case, you are slowly losing your mind to the boredom that sets in between mealtimes and checkups. The meals themselves aren't all that interesting to begin with, flavorless mush concealing bits of wilted vegetables and overcooked meat. Chalky, full of powdered medication you can't extract. The water is bitter, likely dosed in the same fashion. But still you eat, still you drink. What else is there to do?
You are unsure if the medicine they're slipping you, or the shit food itself is making you feel ill, in any case it is another strike against this hellhole that you scribble away on some unseen list in preparation for when you destroy this place.
You don't bother eating lunch when it comes, just like you didn't bother with breakfast. The afternoon meal is a mystery meat sandwich on bread as white as your cell walls. And just as dry looking. The meal appears on a plate, along with a glass of water, in a little scoop in the wall near your bed. The wall shifting and creaking the same way it does when they send people in, and they need a door or something.
You ignore it, and pretend to sleep. It isn't long before the wall furthest away from you creaks and groans as it melts open, allowing someone through. You crack one eye open, expecting Moira, and frown when you lay eyes on another faceless lackey. They stand there for a second, awkwardly, expression unreadable. You slowly, painfully, sit up. The lackey watches you, you watch them.
They point at your forgotten sandwich, and then they point at you. They want you to eat.
"Not hungry." you croak in a voice lacking its luster, its ferocity. They point again, more insistent this time. You just stare. Dull-eyed, annoyed and exhausted. They take a step forward, pointing, gesturing at your food. You refuse to move, even as they get close enough for them to touch you. You. Don't. Move.
They make a sound, an annoyed growl, and grab your sandwich. They grab you, grab your face. Perhaps they intend to force-feed it to you, but they don't get that far. You twist in their grip and sink your teeth into their hand, through latex, through skin, through muscle, and into bone.
They have you collared and caged, but your teeth are still yours, your claws are still sharp. You will make them pay for what they have done.
You snarl, sound slurred and muffled by the skin in your mouth. You grab hold of the lackey's arm, spitting out a lump of meat you'd managed to gnaw off, "I said, I'm not hungry. I'm not eating anymore of that slop. It's making me sick and it tastes almost as shit-awful as you do." you hiss, bloody teeth bared. They try to struggle and you just sink your teeth into their wrist with intent to maul.
The lackey screams, voice spiraling high out of the range of human hearing as you shake your head like a dog with a toy. You don't stop, even when they start to punch you in the face, even when they send others in to pull you two apart. You have to be sedated, your mouth manually pried open in order to release your victim.
As you fall headlong into a drug-induced slumber, your mouth tastes of foreign blood and your own butterscotch pain. It tastes like triumph, a metallic little victory coating your tongue. They let you sleep it off, and when you wake up, you find everything as spotless as it would be as if it'd never happened.
They've restrained you again, of course. This is what happens to animals that bite, they get put on shorter leashes. You're lucky they didn't just put you down. The wall creaks, spilling open like holes burned into plastic, and Moira emerges from the blackness on the other side. She doesn't come much closer, just stands a safe distance away and gazes at you with the same annoyed disappointment that you'd spare for a dog that just pissed on the rug, but you don't have it in you to be humiliated. You just lie there, deathly still, staring her down as she scolds you like an unruly toddler.
She's not bothered by the intern you've mauled-- no. You suspect that they'll be the ones being fired and paying for their own treatment anyhow. But, you know, who cares? 'Nother kid here, 'nother kid there, these disposable assistants come and go, right? Regardless, she's quite upset that you'd call the food awful.
"Why... You should have said so. Let us work on a better diet for you and perhaps your mood will improve." she chides, "Use your words, dear. Not your teeth."
As much as you'd like to pepper her with insults and sharp retorts, you can't get a word in edgewise. Even if you could, none come to mind. So you are forced to lie there, and spill your guts about what you can and cannot eat. Moira assures you that the food will get better, and you plan to hold her to her word, or more blood will be spilled.
4 notes · View notes
macchiatov · 5 years
Text
❝ — 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
    lost in love with me could be what you need — hyejin × jisoo
Tumblr media
    the burning colors from that fateful night over a month ago were still etched into her mind. the brilliant inks of light that burst onto a canvas of stars had been captured like a photograph in her memories, but it was not the fiery blooms alone that had set her heart aflame. instead, it had been a whispered confession — a disclosure of hidden feelings underneath the stars. one that she had come to the conclusion now that he hadn’t wanted to slip from his lips, but fate never seemed to allow either of them a moment that didn’t involve some sort of turmoil. and so, with a sleepy admission on the rooftop of their apartment, han jisoo had said that he loved her.
    the werewolf had questioned how the two of them had ended up back in the apartment after he’d all but passed out on the rooftop following his muttered admission, and hyejin had scrambled to come up with some sort of excuse. mentioned that the two of them came down together despite his languid state, and when he said that he couldn’t remember, she’d promptly, and stupidly, had told him he must have been sleepwalking. jisoo didn’t seem to believe this, and honestly, he would be a fool to trust it considering she was a terrible liar. even more so then he was himself. and while she had healed any abrasions, had checked over where she had bumped his head more than once into the walls when his weight overpowered her own strength, and had tried to mend where the sleeve of his shirt had been ripped when she attempted to pull him down the stairs, the werewolf was much too bright and would no doubt see through her fabrication. but no sooner did the wheels in his head start turning that he suddenly exclaimed that it must have been true, and then dropped the subject altogether. 
    and so, both of them avoided the conversation like the plague. hyejin especially, considering she wasn’t sure if he was aware of what he had mumbled or if he just didn't want to touch on it, nor was she willing to be the one to break the awkward tension around them first. hadn’t wanted to breach the subject in case she was mistaken somehow. in case her mind had somehow played a trick and she’d simply heard what she wanted to hear. though her feelings had come to the surface following the unmentionable night, she feels she has loved him this entire time. perhaps had always loved jisoo, but just hadn't known it. hadn't been sure what was the difference between caring for someone and loving while being in love. but, in case it somehow was not meant to be the truth, she didn't say anything. though she knew deep in her heart that the red-head never lied. the werewolf was always truthful, even when white lies might have spared her feelings. especially so since the unmentionable night. the one where she had sobbed, clinging to his bloodied frame in the bathroom as though her life had depended on it when he had told her that he didn’t want to lose her. and really, it did. jisoo was her entire life — the reason she had begged for a second chance at one. had made a bargain with the creator of all things that she would endure whatever torment befell the two of them. would endure the most terrible things, no matter how gruesome, so long as the two of them could be together. regardless of this, however, the woman had kept quiet about the entire thing, and had tried to continue a normal life with han jisoo to the best of her ability. until tonight, anyway. 
    it’s a little after four in the morning, and hyejin stands near the apartment door dressed to the nines. she’s dolled up in a black cocktail dress with her hair pinned neatly to one side. she has forgoed the idea of heels in favor of bare feet, as she wouldn’t been able to rush around like she had if she had worn shoes. after all, she’s spent the entire night from the second he had left for work in preparation for this. she has done everything she can to make the mood as romantic as possible. replaced the normal fluorescent lighting in the entire apartment in favor of candlelight, the warm lighting illuminating the lavish feast laid out on the dinning room table — all of jisoo’s favorite appetizers and entrées are placed methodically on the wood, having no expense spared. had steamed all of the vegetables, poked holes in the sweet potatoes to ensure there were done correctly, cooked the steaks to perfection, and while she may have burnt the bottom of the biscuits a little, everything seemed faultless. the dish that she was most proud of still sits hidden away in the oven — a two-tiered red velvet cake that she was pleased to say she had mastered secretly with the help of an older couple at the bakery a few blocks from their apartment. 
    and to complete the entire evening, hyejin has prepared one last surprise. it sits at the center of the dinning room table, leaning up against a vase of roses she had picked up earlier that afternoon. it’s a red envelope addressed to the werewolf. it’s closed with a black seal and holds all of her feelings compiled into one message. she had spent every single day since new years writing the thing, and had all but gone through fifteen drafts before she had settled on what she wanted to say. the angel still had trouble communicating verbally, though she had come a long way over the course of knowing jisoo, but finds that perhaps the best way to tell him her feelings would be through written words and not stuttering ones. had written everything she had ever felt out to him — how he had made her feel so safe, how he had been the one to introduce her to a whole new world, who made her want to be brave, and to throw caution to the wind if it meant to be at his side. how he made her heart want to burst at the seams whenever he looked at her and how she felt she could melt underneath his touch. made it clear that he was the person she cared about above all else. the reason she found herself wanting to continue living even after death. how it didn’t matter what hell or high water the two of them went through, that she’d always be at his side. hopes that he can accept her feelings, that the two of them can watch fireworks every year going forward and hopes that he will continue to be her date for more than just one christmas party. waits until the last line to write the simple, yet weighted confession, and had sealed it before she had a chance to take the whole thing back. i love you, jisoo sits on the last line, followed by the signing of her name. a little cliche, now that she thinks about it, but it is valentine’s day. and what valentine’s day would not be complete without roses and a love letter to the werewolf of your dreams? 
    ‘ i’m nervous, soojin. ‘ the angel speaks, trembling hues glancing down to the wolf cub at her side. she’d dressed him up too for the occasion, and he sported a red bow tie around his neck for the holiday. it hadn’t been an easy task to do so, but with the promise of a steak of his own when the two of them would sit down to dinner, the pup had complied with little protest. soojin barks in response, and she takes it as a sign of encouragement. nods her head a little before she kneels down, running her hands along the top of his head. ‘ do you think he’ll like everything? what if the food just looks good and doesn’t actually taste good.. no one would lie to me about the cake, right? ‘ gnaws on her bottom lip in consideration, but the pup barks again, and hyejin can’t help but smile once more. ‘ okay, well  — i’m glad you’ll eat it no matter what at least. thank you, soojin. ‘ leans over to press a kiss to the cub’s nose, but the sound of the key card against the door has her springing to her feet instead. smooths out the material of her dress and braces herself as the door opens and reveals the man that hann hyejin loves, ‘ h — happy valentine’s day! ‘ 
14 notes · View notes