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boykombat · 6 months

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Kuai Liang, - "Cleans The Plate"

Description: Being apart of the Lin Kuei meant he didn't get to see his favorite person often. That person in question being you, of course. And it was always so cold when he returned back to the temple, and he needed to warm himself up somehow.

Tags: finger sucking, teasing, eating out, squirting, cumming without touch, incorrect use of pyromancy.

words: 1.8k

title makes sense bc kuai liang eats and doesn't leave a drop unswallowed

I know it's shorter but this was a lot of fun to write!

🦂 Enjoy!🦂

The mountainous region of where the hidden Lin Kuei temple was nestled, was constantly freezing. Due to the sky consistently showering down snow, the area of the earth was chosen by the ancestors because of its natural camouflage to the outside world.

Just because it's convenient, doesn't mean Kuai enjoys the cold. Being a pyromancer, his body runs hot. The cold feels like more of a bite than a relief to him. So, he seeks warmth in the shape of your body.

Whenever he can, Kuai has you near. Which isn't a lot. His duties constantly pull him away from you, it's hard for him to stand. As soon as he has a break from a mission, he's by your side. Sometimes it's for a couple days, other times a couple hours.

But he has you now, right in his lap where he likes you. Your chest is pressed up against his. Kuai always loves having you so close, soaking up your body heat. Yeah, he's naturally warm, but he could always be warmer.

Kuai's fingers are on your neck, cupping your throat. Not choking you, he's just resting his hand there. He can feel your breathing against his skin.

Kuai shifts a bit, bringing you closer. His eyes flick to the door, and he rests his head against your shoulder.

"You're very warm." He mutters under his breath, his gravely voice almost right against your ear. You let out a soft hum, and he hums back.

Kuai gently runs his fingers across your jaw, fingertips trailing against your chin. You press closer into his touch. His thumb gently pulls your lips open.

And he slides two fingers into your mouth. It draws another hum from deep in your frame. Kuai lets out a soft groan into your ear as he feels the warm interior of your mouth. His fingers are slick with your saliva as he pushes them in and out, over and over again.

You suckle on his fingers so well, your mouth slightly drawn open. Your tongue slides along his digits, and his other hand finds your hair. Slowly, he strokes the strands of your hair.

The warmth of your mouth has his mind thinking. The cold of the room bites at his skin, and he pulls you closer.

"You look so pretty sucking on my fingers, bunny." Kuai murmurs in your ear, and his lips start to press against your neck. Soft, warm kisses against your skin.

You look so relaxed in his arms, it makes him feel safe. In this moment, he craves you. He's not sure when he's going to see you next.

"Can I have you? I miss your warmth, your taste.." He trails off.

You nod yes, and he smiles against your skin. He moves you to the side, both of his hands on your hips to lift you from his thighs.

Kuai's fingers hook around your panties being careful as he tugs them off. Kuai would never want to hurt you, he's careful with you even when you want him to be rough. Though, he can get harsh sometimes, but it's rare when he does.

The pyromancer lays back on his cot, and he pats his cheek. His brown eyes watch as you crawl across the space, analyzing your every move.

You settle your size on every side of his face, hesitant in sitting down. You just hover, that's okay with him, for now. Kuai brings his hands closer to the insides of your thighs, gently pulling open your folds with the tips of his fingers.

Slowly, he starts to flick his tongue against your clit. A low groan leaves his mouth as he tastes you, the vibrations going straight to every sensitive area. It draws a gasp from your lips. Pretty, and airy.

He loves making you moan. Kuai's hands grasp your thighs, squishing them with his fingers. He pulls them apart further, bringing your cunt directly against his mouth.

You can see a bit of fire flicker from his fingertips. The flame brushes your skin, leaving a hot sting in its wake. It makes you buck your hips a bit, even when you try to still them. Your grinding doesn't deter him, it just makes him want you more.

He can feel you starting to get wet against his lips. Kuai's hot tongue eagerly explores your folds, quiet groans leaving his lips at his amazing you taste. The sweet, saltiness of your arousal against his taste buds makes him hard.

There's been so many times where Kuai has cum just from eating you out. He can't understand why, he's never been like that with any other person. Just you. Not that he's a complaining, he's a sucker for how you whine when he finally starts to fuck you with his tongue.

Your cunt is so, so needy for him. Dripping with pure arousal. His fingernails bite at your thighs, and he pulls you to his face fully.

With a medium pace, he starts to slide his tongue in and out of your pussy. Kuai can feel your walls squeezing around his tongue.

It's so stimulating, the warmth of his tongue. It's something you can't get enough of, but being more naturally sensitive, you find yourself trying to pull away so you don't cum so fast.

"Stay." He growls against your dripping sex, a bit of fire flaring from his fingers as his grip on your legs tightens. He pushes you down further, the sting of fire against your skin reminds you of who's in control here. Kuai is, he always has been he always will be.

Your size tighten around his head, his hearing muffled by the vice like grip you have on him. Kuai can feel your fingers starting to grip at his hair, and he loves the dull pain of you tugging on his hair.

Kuai isn't the most vocal. But it's just something about you sitting on his face that gets his vocal chords going. He lets out a loud groan, his tongue working in and out of you like never before. His hands move your hips, and he starts to rock your dripping sex against his lips.

Kuai needs you to grind against his tongue, he craves it. You eagerly oblige, swiveling your hips against the muscle that is constantly torturing the walls of your cunt. He's like a machine with how he works, he won't stop until you tell him to.

Kuai lets his eyes open, and he loves what he's seeing. Your soft tummy, all of that smooth skin on display for him. He can see your tits bouncing on your frame, moving with every needy thrust you make. He loves all the soft curves he can see from between your thighs.

He moves up an inch, so he can see more of your body move while he eagerly lapse at your dripping cunt. His eyes focus on your face as he thrusts his tongue faster into you. You can feel your wetness pressed against his cheeks and chin, some of it even racing down his neck.

Kuai's eyes focus on your warm mouth, and how he can see the drool collecting at the corner of your lips. The things you do with that mouth make him feel harder, as he daydreams of you as if you're not on top of him in this movement.

He can imagine the warmth of your lips around his cock, the sound of you gagging as he fucks your throat ringing in his ears.

You grind yourself down onto his tongue faster, and faster. He knows you're about to cum. He can feel you clenching tighter around him, your soft curves jiggling slightly as your body shakes.

With one final thrust, You tug on his hair as hard as you can. Kuai's tongue abuses your good spot as you start to cum. He closes his eyes, feeling the arousal fluid shoot out from you as you squirt.

The pyromancer doesn't care about the mess, he'd probably fuck you in the baths after this anyways. He can feel the arousal fluid leaking into his mouth, and he eagely really swallows it all. The feeling of all of this seduction on his tongue pushes him over the edge, and his eyes roll back into his skull.

Kuai can feel the cum inside of his boxers as he finishes, he can feel how messy he gets. Just how messy you make him.

You tug his hair over and over, your fingers twitch when flexing with the feeling of a good orgasm. The feeling makes his hips jerk as the small of his back pushes from the bed. His fingernails bite into the sensory pleasure he calls your skin.

Kuai's massive hands pull your cunt down to his face, His tongue relentless against your clit. He won't let you finish only once, Not when there's a chance he couldn't do this for days.

He's gotta make you count, and he does. So much so he coaxes you into another orgasm.

You can feel your body shaking as you nearly fall forward onto his legs. Your hips snapping wildly as he pushes you over the edge yet again, in such a short span of time too. He always knew what to do, and he perfected flawlessly.

He can feel you cumming into his mouth, the salty sweetness of your juice invading his lips. Kuai can't get enough, he always swallows. Eagerly, he laps it all up as you cum against his tongue. His hands firmly gripping onto your thighs, pulling your legs open as your arousal fluid shoots out like he enjoys.

Kuai likes making a mess, that's just how he is. He likes knowing you felt good. What's better than visual proof?

As you start to calm down, Kuai slows his pace. Calming you down by coaxing you to stop, his tongue slowly sliding out from you. He placed one last kiss against your clit, and then on your folds.

You shift off him, now simply on your knees. Kuai rolls onto his front, his palms planted firmly on the other sides of his head. Slowly, he starts to kiss up your body. One on your hood, then your lower abdomen. Soft, tender kisses going up your body. His hands slide along the sides of your body.

Fingers massaging at the fatty tissue of your body, warm as bits of fire flick from then. Leaving a scorpions sting in their wake. His lips find your breasts, kissing at both. Lips brushing across your collarbone, his hands on your neck. Fingers slide into your hair, and his lips find the familiar flesh of your lips. His chapped lips against your velvety smooth ones is like a personal paradise.

This man eats, and he eats good. Cleans his plate when he's done too.

#kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #boykombat

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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 2 years

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For frenzied Nobles, the thing that calms them is the scent and familiarity of the balms. Why do I see this little feral Emmet deciding “enough is enough” and trying to tackle Lord Z, repeatedly telling him to stop, this is unbefitting of him, maybe even brushing at his fur because that’s calmed him in the past… and the scent of his warden, shrouded in the fur he so lovingly brushed away and with stains of berry juice in his hair, is enough to finally calm him. Balm scents are more effective when the Lord is defeated after all, and by some miracle Emmet pins him (perhaps the teen Zoruark help?)

Emmet, of course, did NOT follow safety protocol, so he’s significantly more beat up than the MC got by standing at a good distance. He insists he’s fine, he can make a poultice, he will—and that’s when he falls face first into the snow, now rapidly turning red.

ok first of all i love this collaborative au we are all working on where the goal is to beat emmet up as hard as possible. i'm so glad that's the blog environment i've created

anyway aaa... maybe emmet hasn't actually spoken to the protagonist or anyone yet, but he can tell that whatever's going on, the station master is not himself right now—that something else is driving him mad. so it's a last-ditch effort, maybe to keep him from heading straight for the pearl settlement after he caught its scent, but he's trying whatever he can think of, using words and familiar gestures and attacks simultaneously to try and snap him out of it.

and emmet's in rare form, he's had his partner zorua obviously but living in the mountains doesn't lend itself well to a lot of intense battles bc generally your first priority is conserving your energy. but now he's directing the whole pack, their goal is not to hunt or defend their territory but just to wear the noble out, costs be damned. and man, being on top of a battle and having to focus everything to keep track of everyone and plan? he feels alive in a way he hasn't in months.

(a sidenote, maybe this is the battle where emmet's partner zorua evolves?)

while ordering them around, emmet's #2 goal is to keep lord zoroark's attention firmly on him and nowhere else. because as we have covered: the old lord is Strong As Hell and currently not holding anything back, he could fuck up his kits real bad if he was allowed to hurt them. fortunately, humans seem to draw his ire much better than any pokemon do, so it's not hard to keep the noble pursuing him while the rest of the pack attacks. he takes a couple hits—a claw swipe, a Bitter Malice that caught him from the side—but adrenaline keeps him going anyway

he's also been talking to the lord the entire time, when he has the spare breath, trying to do anything to get him to snap out of it. as zoroark gets steadily more worn out from overusing his moves and taking wave after wave of attacks, there seem to be some flashes of recognition here and there, but it's not enough. so it's a last move of desperation, because he knows how dangerous it is, but emmet sees an opening or maybe a zorua is about to get attacked—and he just. tackles the lord, knocks them both into the snow, and the lord is too exhausted to get up immediately. so emmet nestles himself into his fur like he would when they were sleeping in the den, hums the familiar tune zoroark got him to play on the flute, rakes his fingers along that one part of his spine in the way he knows he likes best. and for a moment it seems like it's working, he can feel him trembling under his hands, can see the gold ebbing from his eyes—

—in one last burst of strength, the lord rises and strikes and throws emmet backwards. but the entire pack starts howling in alarm when he doesn't get up right away, and that, that is what finally breaks the spell. the lightning vanishes back into the sky just in time for the lord to realize, in horror, what he's done.

and maybe emmet manages to struggle to his feet, relieved to see the station master back to normal, comes over and reassures him that no permanent damage was done—look, all the kits are fine, stop whining—and praises him for being strong enough to eventually fight... whatever-that-was, off...

...and then passes out in his claws, way past his limits, bloodstains steadily blooming on his borrowed tunic.

#the nemesis answers #the nemesis speaks #anonymous #lord zoroark #warden emmet au #i guess this is an alt version of the drapion situation

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lotusjwy · 3 years

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"Just leave me ALONE" for Xicheng? Preferably if LXC says it JC? Preferably in public or in front of wangxian and the juniors ? E.g. JC is the only one, who notices LXC is having a bad day and he more or less subtlely tries to get him to talk ? But LXC tries to be fine cause he is out of seclusion so he can't still have bad days'?

But if you have another idea do that! no pressure ! Thanks in advance !

hello there, the way this is so specific has been killing me for DAYS 😂 I had to send screenshots to my friend bc of how specific it is dude, like I love that you know exactly what you want bc it makes my brain not have to work as hard, but BRO dskjfhkasd why do u like to see my boy suffer So much 😭😭😭

i hope this lives up to ur expectations!!! 🥰

It had been a long day. A long and tiring day, so if he lost his temper, he couldn’t be blamed, right? He just wanted to go back home and play the flute, perhaps sleep a little, but he was absolutely done with spending time with everyone else. So, why did he find himself still in the company of so many people? Why was he still sitting here with Wangji, Wei Wuxian, Jiang Wanyin and a handful of juniors? Why?

This was all Wei Wuxian’s fault, he was the one that insisted everyone spend more time together. Xichen already saw plenty of Wei Wuxian, Wangji, Sizhui and Jingyi, as well as often seeing Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, due to sect business. If anything, the only person here that Lan Xichen rarely saw was Ouyang Zizhen, and it wasn’t as if he’d spent much of the day speaking to him.

Jiang Wanyin had taken it upon himself to seat himself down next to Lan Xichen, talking to him, hoping that he could get to the root of why the other had been acting differently. “You’ve been quiet all day, which is completely fine, I get that. Sometimes everyone is a bit too much to handle, but Wei Wuxian insists on family bonding, whatever the fuck that me-”

And he just would not stop talking, he’d been talking for so long, all day, when would he stop. “Just leave me alone. You keep speaking to me as if I’ve shown any indication that I wish to continue this conversation. You’re quick to call Wei Wuxian a chatterbox and an annoyance, yet have you ever looked inward?!” When he was met with a stunned silence, he realised something was incredibly wrong.

Oh. Oh no. He had said that out loud, hadn’t he? Well, he couldn’t take it back now, and he had wanted to be left alone. It wasn’t his fault Jiang Wanyin wasn’t taking the hint. Xichen did feel a little bad, when he saw the hurt expression on lJiang Cheng’s face, that abruptly was wiped from his face, only to be replaced by a blank face.

“Apologies, Zewu-jun. I appear to have overstepped.” He stood and gave the other a stiff bow, before leaving the room, not looking or speaking to anyone, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

Wei Wuxian stood awkwardly after his brother had left the room, wanting to follow him out, but knowing that the other probably wanted to be alone right now. He also knew that he shouldn’t be the one going to ensure he was okay, “Xichen-ge…”

“I am aware, no need to scold me.” Lan Xichen’s voice was terse, knowing that everyone in the room was staring at him in shock, possibly all wanting to scold him for his behaviour.

“Jiujiu was only trying to make sure that you were okay. Talking helps sometimes, you know. He rarely reaches out to people like that, but he did to you.” Everyone here knew his uncle’s temper, just as well as they knew how much he cared, if anyone here didn’t know that, then they shouldn’t be here. They didn’t belong here.

Lan Sizhui put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Jin Ling, should you be saying this here?” He knew that Jin Ling was cross with Zewu-jun, but he didn’t want the other saying anything that he may regret later on.

“It’s nothing everyone here doesn’t already know about him.” He scoffed out, his voice dripping with disdain towards Sect Leader Lan. How dare he take his uncle’s kindness for granted.

Xichen tuned out the remainder of the conversation, thinking about the mess he had put himself in. It wasn’t that he disliked Jiang Wanyin, quite the opposite actually, and yet here he was near yelling at him in front all of their friends and family. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in his thoughts before he realised that he was being spoken to by Jin Rulan again.

“Well? Are you just going to sit here and wallow in your stupid misery, or are you going to go apologise?” There was a fiercely protective look in the younger’s eyes, showing that he’d physically fight the other, even if it meant losing, for his uncle’s honour.

“Jin Ling!” Wei Wuxian sent a sharp look to the younger, inwardly cursing that Jin Ling seemed to have inherited his mother’s fierce protective nature. He felt the same, but he also had the sense of knowing that saying everything you felt could backfire on you within seconds.

“Don’t get mad at me for being mad at him! He was being an assh-” the rest of whatever he was going to say being smothered by Lan Jingyi’s hand, which was conveniently blocking any other derogatory words that Jin Ling may want to speak.

“Alright, alright, young mistress, it’s okay. Let’s calm down now. He’ll go apologise now.” Lan Jingyi gave his sect leader a pointed look, as if telling him that if he didn’t leave to go find Sect Leader Jiang right now, then he would release his friend and let him unleash his full anger at him.

With a stiff nod, Lan Xichen left towards the direction Jiang Wanyin had stalked off to. He found the other leaning on a tree, staring up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought. He slowly approached the other, contemplating how to best bring attention to himself.

“I-” He jumped slightly, when he was cut off, not realising that Jiang Cheng had even noticed him approaching.

“Save it. No need to apologise, I know you were bullied out here.” His voice blunt and to the point, void of any emotion, as if he were trying to protect himself.

Xichen was stunned silent, not knowing how to respond to that. He had been told to come apologise, so it wasn’t as if he could refute that. “Oh.”

Jiang Cheng sighed and shook his head. He had guessed that his nephew and brother had made the other come out here and apologise, but he was hoping that Lan Xichen had wanted to come out on his own accord. Evidently not. And why should he? It’s not as if Jiang Cheng was someone that was important to Lan Xichen. All he’d done was annoy him today.

Lan Xichen walked closer to the other, offering him an apologetic look, “whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

“I find that hard to believe.” How could he be wrong, when all signs pointed to his conclusions? He’d been annoying, when he hadn’t intended to be. He’d been compared to Wei Wuxian of all people.

“I’m sorry.”

And for what it was worth, he did sound very apologetic, but Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to believe it. “I said save it.”

“You did. However, I do genuinely mean it.” Xichen looked at the other, focusing on how the other was mindlessly fidgeting with Zidian. I’m making him uncomfortable. “I was told to come out and find you, yes, but I would have apologised on my own. I wouldn’t have left it li-”

“Don’t worry, Sect Leader Lan, I won’t let this hinder our sect relations. I’m not so petty so as to do anything that was affect either of our sects, for a personal matter.” Jiang Cheng cut off Lan Xichen, yet again, seemingly realising why the other had gone out of his way to come out to apologise.

“That’s not-” Lan Xichen was beginning to grow very sick of being cut off midsentence.

“I won’t interfere with any of the trade agreements we have existing already, nor any that we may broker in the future.” Jiang Cheng was rambling now, thinking of anything he could, to ensure Lan Xichen that he didn’t want their sects to fall out with each other. “Oh, we were discussing having our junior disciples have an excha-”

“Would you shut up?” If the other would just stop sprouting out useless information, this conversation could end less painfully than it needs to be, instead Jiang Wanyin seemed to want to draw it out.

Jiang Cheng blinked in shock, his mouth falling open. That was the second time he’d made Lan Xichen burst out in anger like that. Wow, he must really hate me.

“If you would just let me speak! I do not dislike you, nor do I think that this should affect our sects standings with each other.” Xichen’s voice was strained, as he struggled to keep his frustrations with Jiang Wanyin at bay.

Jiang Cheng simply nodded in response, “of course not.”

“You don’t believe me.” Disbelief coating his voice, he stared at the other with narrowed eyes.

“I…” he struggled to find a way to word this, without being insulting or rude, “I believe that you do not wish this to affect our sect standings. Nor do I.”

“But you believe that I dislike you.” He put it bluntly, not enjoying the circles they were seeming to go in this conversation.

With a shrug, he nodded. There wasn’t much else he could say on it, it’s not as if he could make his own beliefs go away with the snap of a finger.

“And nothing I say could convince you otherwise?” Xichen was close to losing it at the other again, not knowing how to change the direction of this conversation. “Not even our past relationship with each other, prior to this evening?”

“Sect Leader Lan is a kind man. He gives chances to those who do not deserve them. I simply overstepped my boundaries tonight.” Jiang Cheng was looking up at the moon, his voice void of any emotion as he spoke.

With a sigh, Lan Xichen moved to stand in front of the other, needing to capture his attention somehow. “And sometimes he simply has bad days, that have nothing to do with those around him.” He said it lightly, but his face showed that he was being serious. It really had been a bad day that had come an unfortunate end.

“But I didn’t help.”

“No, you didn’t. But I should have verbalised that, instead of ignored you.” Thinking about it for a moment, he added on something else, “which is why you kept speaking to me. Other times your company and conversation has kept me from my bad days, it was only safe for you to believe that it would be okay today. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Hmm.” He only hummed in response, as if he didn’t want to accept that he played no fault in the situation.

“I don’t know what else I can do to convince you otherwise. I promise you that we are okay. As long as you can forgive me for speaking to you like that.” Right. Apologising was what he’d come out here to do in the first place.

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes and looked at the other incredulously, “of course I forgive you, I was being fucking annoying and sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”

Lan Xichen shook his head almost immediately, “I’d argue out of everyone we’ve been with today, it is a place where you are welcome to stick your nose into. I should have communicated that I wanted silence, it wasn’t your fault.”

When Jiang Cheng didn’t respond, Xichen sighed and nodded, “fine, I can see that this will take some time to move past. But can we do that? Forget about tonight, learn to better communicate with each other? A relationship wouldn’t be possible otherwise.” He quickly turned away from the other, choosing to stare up at the sky, instead of seeing the disbelief on Jiang Cheng’s face at what he had just said. He had more or less confessed his feelings.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in shock as he processed what he had just heard, his cheeks beginning to burn at the implications. He coughed into his fist, “uh, yes. We can do that.”

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

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🌸⛅🥊💋💖🏥 for Ramsay boy 😏 (sorry if it's too much, lol, I don't know if I can send several at the same time, you can just choose one, I just really liked these 😅😅)

(oh my, this is a lot! tho tbf I didn’t give a limit! 😂 okay, putting this under a cut bc its a long boi)

🌸 Kissing

Ramsay kisses you like he wants to steal your breath. It’s always so sudden, so rough, and he brings you close to him like you might run away. It’s crushing, really, so you have to push him back and breathlessly tell him to slow down.

... Does he listen? Not really.

You usually end up pressed against his firm chest and the cold wall, holding onto him as he bites at your lips and eagerly takes your lips. He’s just as breathless as you as he bites and kisses down your neck, and you wonder what’s gotten into him this time.

In bed, it’s just as desperate, but he’ll leave hickeys and rough kisses across your neck, breasts and thighs. He’ll bite where he pleases, even drawing blood if that makes you cry out and gasp louder.

If you sleepily give him a chaste kiss in the morning, or a sudden one on his cheek in the day, he isn’t sure what to make of it. He’ll try to initiate something deeper sometimes, but other days, he looks at you with those intense eyes, trying to puzzle you out.

⛅ Sunset

Dreary as the Dreadfort was, it was still a proper castle, and you could climb to the top of the ramparts to watch the sunset, like you used to do at your old home. When you first married Ramsay, it was one of your many escapes. You hid in one of the older parts that was crumbling and wasn’t guarded well. You could disappear for hours up here.

Ramsay ended up finding your little hiding spot, though by that point, you had learned to handle him and live with him. He didn’t understand the appeal of just sitting still and watching a sunset. He was more interested in watching you.

He used to say and do things just to upset you, to annoy you, to make you cry or scream, but you never rewarded his behavior with a response. He hated when you would ignore him, and when your attention was taken away by a sunset, he became agitated and impatient.

“Just go back to the hall, Ramsay. I’ll be there shortly for dinner.” Gods, he was so stubborn, but you wouldn’t let him take this from you.

Finally, you lost your patience and took his hand. You command him to sit and put his head in your lap. He was confused, but finally obeyed. Like a spoiled child - maybe dog was a more accurate word - he was content to sit there while you pet his hair and freely watched the sky again. You can’t believe it worked.

Sometimes that didn’t work, and he brought his bow up to shoot targets he set up below. You weren’t sure when he did that. It was hard not to be impressed with his skill, especially considering how far away they were, and he was always pleased when you paid attention to his abilities.

🥊 Exercise/Workout

You already know the sort of things he gets up to in the forest, and you’ll have no part of it. As a result of his wild upbringing and those “hunting trips”, he’s very fit and athletic. Ramsay has a lot of energy, you learned. Not even the rain and snow will keep him cooped up.

He would be so insistent on teaching you how to use a bow. If you already knew, he’d be delighted, demanding you show him and hunt with him. But if you didn’t ... You’d find yourself in the middle of several private lessons that were almost impossible to squirrel away from. Ramsay would stand behind you, giving you surprisingly clear instructions as you learned to notch arrows and aim just right. He’d even have a bow made for your size and strength.

A good way to keep Ramsay in good spirits was to endure the lessons and shoot with him. He preferred you to kill something, like a rabbit, but shooting targets was fine enough, especially as you began to improve.

Roose didn’t think a lady should learn such things, but you were keeping his bastard out of his hair, so he didn’t complain.

💋 Intimacy

He is rough and there’s rarely a reprieve from that. He always holds you a little too tight, kisses a little too hard, leaves one too many marks along your neck and collarbone. It doesn’t help that he has the energy level of a terrier, so he wants to keep going well after your legs are jelly.

It surprised you how close he wanted you, how he wanted your hands on him - he’d put them there himself if he had to. He’d want you to kiss him back, to bite him, drag your nails down his back until he bleeds. Almost like with the kissing, it was like he worried you’d just disappear into the air if he let you go for a moment.

His favorite is when you’re facing him or in his lap, so he can trap you and keep you from squirming away. He doesn’t care about children or heirs, so if you don’t want him finishing inside you, he’ll listen and do it elsewhere which is fine because he likes to lick it off you.

When you try to slow him down, try to be a little more tender, it confuses him. He gets an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, and he wonders what to do. When you hold his face gently, or brush his hair away from his sweaty brow, or gently apologize for the bright red scratches you left on him... He doesn’t know what to do. It isn’t familiar... It isn’t bad, but ...

The nights you’re most in control is when he’s utterly exhausted, totally physically spent, but still insists on being intimate with you. That’s when you can push him on his back and tell him what you want, and he’ll go along, too intrigued and tired to argue with you.

💖 Pregnancy

No surprise, Ramsay doesn’t heed his father at all when Roose goes on about producing an heir. Seven hells, he’s only a lord in title, it’s you and Roose who are doing a majority of running the Dreadfort. Roose often directed his frustrations at you - should you fail to do your duty as a proper wife, he’d find a way for you to be ... replaced.

It’s not like it was difficult to end up with child, given how often Ramsay wanted you. It happened, and when you told him, he was confused for only a moment. Ramsay simply shrugged, saying his father would finally stop bothering the two of you about it. So that was that.

He continued to not think much about it, but then you became tired. You were so tired, so fatigued, and often forgetful. You had even less patience for his shenanigans, and when he went looking for you, a handmaiden would inform him that you retired early. As you began to show, and your fatigue increased, Ramsay finally began to accept the reality. He still didn’t think much of what it meant, he thought of it more as “Y/N will be back to her regular self once that damn pup is out of her.”

(Honestly, he had so little parental love growing up, the entire idea of parenthood and children was just ... foreign. Something he couldn’t imagine.)

Ramsay hates seeing you in distress and pain. He doesn’t understand it, and it angers him that he has these feelings, but it’s true. So when you begin to really get along in the third trimester, he frightens the servants and handmaidens into making you completely comfortable, not upsetting you, walking and talking quietly, getting you whatever you need. He’d busy himself with even more hunting, getting food you especially liked, making sure it was totally cooked so the smell wouldn’t make you sick.

Roose was surprised, but pleased. At one point he made a cold, off-hand comment about how you could die in childbirth - but as long as you had a son, it didn’t matter. Ramsay turned on him so quickly, a guard almost stepped between them. Roose blinked, unaffected, but made a mental note to ensure the maester had all the tools and supplies he needed.

🏥 Taking Care of Injuries

As stated before, Ramsay hates you being hurt. He hates that he hates this. Sometimes it makes him so angry, he has to walk away. He doesn’t understand the sick feeling he gets when you’re hurt.

The first time you cried, he was startled. For all the times he tried to do it himself, it happened when you took a bad fall from your horse. The maester was tying your ankle, worried it was broken, and you were quietly crying as he wrapped it. Ramsay was so upset, he barked at the maester to move and did it himself.

Ramsay is very adept at first aid, actually. He has steady hands to sew up injuries, he knows how to disinfect and change out bandages or stitches. It helped keep his victims alive, after all.

When your hands were blistered from all the archery lessons, he took them in his rough, totally calloused hands and carefully popped the blisters. You flinched and tears sprang to your eyes, and he fought back the angry bile in his throat as he patiently cleaned them and bandaged them.

Now that you thought about it, tending to your wounds was the only time Ramsay sat still and quiet.

When you pricked your finger badly from a sewing needle or a small knife, he’d hear your quiet curse and instantly go to your side. Ramsay just had to take your finger in his mouth. He always did, looking at you with those mischievous blue eyes the whole time.

Whenever you have a bruise from something silly, like hitting a piece of furniture, he likes to press on it. He likes the discoloration on your skin, but he doesn’t like the frown you give him. So he kisses it, playing at being sweet, only to kiss up the rest of your body and take you in a needy kiss.

#ramsay snow x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #libra headcanons #whew! That was a long boy

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hellothereobi · 4 years

Text

Obi-Wan x Reader

Request: “Hi, I noticed you were taking request and well its very cold and snowy where I am so I was wondering if you could write a really fluffy Obi Wan Kenobi fic where he and the reader are just both really cuddly bc its cold. If possible could you use gender neutral terms? Thanks ❤.”

I really hope you enjoy this!! and once again I’m so sorry about the wait!

****************************************************************************************************

Snow cascaded down from the dark sky, landing on two figures making their way through a fairly empty town. Y/N tried to maintain their calmness by drawing the force to them, trying to keep warm through the force was a weak point of their Jedi training.

“Master, perhaps we should stop somewhere,” Y/N shivered, while rubbing their hands along their arms, hoping to gather enough friction to warm up slightly.

Obi-Wan glanced over to Y/N, noticing how cold they seemed to be. He sighed inwardly, they really ought to keep moving along if they were to reach their destination at the right time, but a cold, tired padawan was really no good to him.

Obi-Wan stopped walking and began to look around, his eyes laid upon a small inn.

“We shall rest over at that inn, my dear.” he smiled softly Y/N.

Relief shot through Y/N’s body, a smile widened across their face, “Thank you, Master!”

Obi-Wan nodded in return as he walked over to the entrance of the inn, he opened the door for his fellow padawan.

Y/N quickly ran through the threshold of the inn, their padawan braid flying behind. Warmth instantly ran through their body as they entered the warm inn, Y/N headed over to the fireplace holding their hands out to let warmth gather in their palms.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted the owner of the inn, with a polite smile.

“Hi there folks!” the owner greeted warmly while throwing a hand out to Obi-Wan to shake.

“We need a room for two for just tonight.”

Y/N headed over to the two men talking, once they could move their fingers.

“Of course!” the owner said as he grabbed a key for Obi-Wan, “you’re just in luck, we only have one room left.”

“Thank the stars!” Y/N replied as they tugged their braid, it was a nervous habit they had, had since they were a youngling.

The owner chuckled softly, “You’re room number is on the key chain.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied as he headed over to the stairs leading to the rooms.

Y/N quickly followed behind their Master.

“Now, Y/N we will have to leave bright and early so we can make it back in time to meet up with the council,” Obi-Wan explained to Y/N as he unlocked their room.

Y/N nodded, “I understand, wha-” Y/N abruptly stopped as they took a look around the room.

One bed sat in the center of the room.

A blush settled on Y/N’s cheeks, “Should we try finding another place? Or I could just suck it up and we can continue our way to our destination?”

Obi-Wan controlled his emotions, and kept a neutral expression on his face, “No, you take the bed, young one, I shall take the floor.”

“But Master that can’t be comfortable for you!”

“My dear Padawan, I’ve slept on far more uncomfortable surfaces before,” Obi-Wan smiled, comfortably.

Y/N nodded slowly, “I’m sorry Master, I should’ve just pushed myself to keep walking.”

“Y/N it takes time controlling the force, you’re already doing amazing,” Obi-Wan smiled, “Everyday I find myself impressed on how you’re progressing, it won’t be long until I can’t teach you anything else.”

This should’ve brought comfort to Y/N, but it didn’t. They weren’t ready to let Obi-Wan go, perhaps they had gotten a little too attached.

Y/N quickly wiped their thoughts, they didn’t need Obi-Wan to get suspicious of that. He would be so disappointed, and it would be terrifying if he found out.

“Thank you, Master,” Y/N smiled, while tugging at their braid.

A hand reached out to grab the hand tugging at their braid. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as Obi-Wan’s warm hand pulled their hand away from the braid, his thumb slightly rubbed the back of Y/N’s hand.

Y/N could feel their heart beating fast, as their cheeks flushed once again.

“You’re going to pull your hair out, my dear,” Obi-Wan said softly, his eyes held Y/N’s in an intense stare.

Y/N slightly gulped, “I’ll work on it, Master.”

Obi-Wan released Y/N’s hand before running a hand through his hair, “Well shall we get to bed?”

Y/N nodded quickly, and began to remove their cloak, placing it on the chair next to the bed.

Once Y/N got settled in the bed and was covered up, they spared a glance at their Master. He was grabbing a few spare blankets from the tiny closet next to the front door. Once he got them laid out, he began to remove his cloak, revealing his lean body.

“He’s so handsome,” Y/N thought to themselves, then quickly shook their head, “I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.”

Y/N settled down in their bed pulling blankets even closer to themselves.

“Goodnight Y/N,” Obi-Wan called out, as he settled in his makeshift bed.

“Goodnight.. Obi-Wan,” Y/N cringed as they said that, very rarely did they refer to the Master Jedi by their first name.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind.

With a wave of his hand Obi-Wan shut the lights off with the force.

Y/N slowly drifted to sleep.

*few hours later*

The temperature began to drop as time passed, it eventually woke up Y/N, shivering.

Y/N’s teeth chattered slightly as they sat up looking around for the thermostat. When their eyes fell on it, they quickly got up out of bed and made their way to the thermostat the screen was blank.

Y/N glanced over to Obi-Wan, he was still sleeping soundly, his soft breathing brought comfort to themselves. Y/N turned back to the thermostat and tried to kick the heat in, but the screen remained blank.

“Great, it's broken,” Y/N muttered to themselves, as they wrapped their arms around themselves.

“Y/N?” a soft accented voice called out, slightly husky from sleep.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up Master, I was just trying to get heat back in here,” Y/N said, apologetically, with a soft smile.

Y/N walked back to the bed and curled up under the blankets to try and get warmth to go through their body.

Obi-Wan sat up glancing over Y/N, he watched as shivers ran through their body. He wasn’t sure what caused him to act out, but he slowly got up and headed over to the bed.

“Move over,” he softly told Y/N.

Y/N’s head whipped towards him, but moved over as they were told.

Obi-Wan moved in behind Y/N, his body heat radiated against Y/N.

“When we return back to Coruscant we really need to work on you using the force to retain more heat,” Obi-Wan teased lightly.

Y/N giggled slightly, their eyes gleaming in the dark, “I agree, wholeheartedly, with you Master.”

Cautiously Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around Y/N pulling them closer to him. Y/N felt their heart fluttering.

“Master maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” they said, softly, while fiddling with the edge of their pillow.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan pressed on.

A deep silence fell between them, tension grew slowly.

Finally Y/N sighed, “Master I have feelings for you.”

Obi-Wan remained silent.

“I’m sorry, I’ve tried to get rid of it. I’ve meditated on this many times, but it’s hard.” Y/N felt tears well up in their eyes.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said gently.

Y/N’s eyes widened as they jerked around to face Obi-Wan, “What?”

“My dear, I’ve known for quite some time, after all you’re not always the best at concealing your emotions. I will admit I haven’t these emotions from you for quite some time, so you’ve improved,” he teased, as a smirk settled on his lips.

Y/N felt a blush rest on their cheeks, as their mouth gaped open slightly, “I don’t know what to say.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “I understand.”

“Do you feel the same way?” the question slipped from Y/N’s mouth before they could stop it.

Obi-Wan looked into Y/N’s eyes, “What do your feelings tell you?”

Y/N thought, then nodded slowly.

“Exactly, dear one,” Obi-Wan smiled.

Y/N couldn’t control themselves as they threw themselves at Obi-Wan. They wrapped arms around the Jedi Master tightly, and to their enjoyment, arms wrapped around their body.

Y/N pulled back slightly to look into Obi-Wan’s eyes, and a sense of comfort and happiness fell upon them. They focused only on this moment, they knew things would be different tomorrow, but for now they could settle for this.

The two Jedi slowly drifted to sleep once again, their limbs tangled together, and soft smiles on their faces.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan star wars #padawan reader #star wars #star war prequels #imagines #star wars imagine #Ewan McGregor #Ewan McGregor imagine #obi wan oneshot #obi wan x you #gender neutral #obi-wan x you #obi wan imagine #requests #star wars requests

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thefoxwhowanders · 4 years

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Here's some character descriptions for my main characters from my story if anyone is interested! I used picrews to show you guys how they look! Also, I don't have a lot of time to draw them right now 🙃

Ingra is a strong-willed character who rarely hides her feelings, and even if she tries, it’s always written on her face. She can be blunt at times and says things without giving much thought to it. She has a tendency to say some of her thoughts out loud, because it helps her think. She’s always longing for knowledge and would ditch any party just to read a book. She tends to ask a lot of questions without thinking, because her curiosity sometimes takes over. If she is given the chance, she can talk for hours about anything and everything. She tends to keep to herself most of the time, because she’s afraid others will find her annoying, so she stays away. She would cry with you if you are sad and hug you while you cry. She may talk a lot, but she can be a good listener if you need her to be. She loves to dance more than anything, because she used to dance with her mother before the kidnapping. She would dance all day if she could. She also loves to sing, but she thinks she’s not that good at it even though she is.

Favorite color(s): Burgundy and cerulean blue

Favorite season: Spring

Likes: Animals, dresses, jewelry, her parents, snow, soft music, flowy dresses, folktales, fairy tales, stories in general, books, knowledge and owls

Dislikes: loud music, beetles, spiders, pastel dresses on her, the king, slavery, and nosey people.

Suirea is a person who tends to keep to himself when he can, and he avoids going to parties, because they make him feel uncomfortable even though he has to go to them. He would always sneak out of the palace during a party in disguise to get some time to himself. He has a tendency to put others before himself and his own needs. He doesn’t care about himself as much as he does for others which causes him to get hurt easily. He’s the kind of person who falls in love too easily or gets attached too easily. He’s a great listener, because he puts all his attention on you. He isn’t afraid to be open about his own feelings, because it helps him to talk about it. Other times, he just pushes the feelings away and tries to forget about them. He can be selfish sometimes when it comes to the people he gets attached to, but he tries his best to hide it out of fear. Suirea loves to paint and read and write poetry, because it calms him and makes him smile. He also enjoys sparring and archery.

Favorite color(s): Gold and green

Favorite season: Winter

Likes: poetry, memorizing quotes, big dogs, rain, birds, climbing, crafting, making things with his hands, roses, his sisters and his mother

Lucero is a character who tends to hide his feelings behind a smile. He's a person who does his best to make your day better when you're sad. He's always smiling, even when he's sad (sometimes) which can be a problem. He tends to make people laugh without even trying to be funny. He laughs pretty easily, because he finds mostly everything funny. When he has to be serious, he will be serious. He can be a little reckless sometimes, and oblivious. He has a tendency to daydream a lot, and completely forget any task at hand. Lucero can easily tell if someone is in a bad mood without even having to talk to them. He likes to go to all the festivals and parties, because he enjoys them. He can be a little blunt, and he isn’t afraid to say what’s on his mind. When it comes to showing affection to others, he does it frequently. He would hug you all the time if he can, but he knows that some people can feel uncomfortable if he does that, so he restrains himself. He would tell you he loves you a million times if he can, and throw compliments at you 24/7. He’s not afraid to tell you exactly how he feels about you. He sometimes thinks he has an annoying/overbearing personality, so he tries to say things that he thinks people may not find annoying. Lucero loves to dance, which is an interest he shares with his closest friend Ingra because they both love to dance. He loves to bake and cook because it was one of the things he loved doing with his mother whenever his father wasn’t home. Astronomy is a subject he adores, he could talk about space for hours and hours. He also loves making origami for fun.

Favorite color(s): Red, and black

Favorite season: Summer

Likes: Dancing, baking, his mother, cooking, making origami, cats, astronomy, Ingra (not romantically), daydreaming, sewing, jokes, laughing, talking, partying, and festivals.

Dislikes: his father, being annoying, being alone, rain, loud noise, phonies, cruel people, and bullies

Asante is a person who puts her duties before her interests. She is the kind of person who would put all her focus on something and forget to take care of herself. She is usually a composed person, but she will knock you down if you attempt to hurt her friends, her people or stand in her way. She is wise for her age, and there are times where people think she is older than she actually is. She loves her culture and her people more than anything. She would do anything for them even sacrifice her own life for them. She isn’t afraid of people hating her for what she believes in. She is understanding and does her best to listen even when you disagree with her. She loves to joke around a lot, and she can be sarcastic, but she does her best to not ever cross the line. She loves to be around people and party if she feels like it. She has a tendency to overthink things and worry a lot to the point of keeping herself up all night. She’s the kind of person who would write down all your favorite things on a piece of paper and try to memorize them later. She loves to cook and clean when she’s feeling tense or angry because it calms her. She also loves history and different cultures.

Favorite color(s): dark blue, and red

Favorite season: Winter

Likes: Cooking, jokes, butterflies, culture, people, history, food, long naps, sitting around the fire, her mother, and sewing (she likes to sew her own clothes)

Dislikes: Sweets, liars, waking up early, fake people, and being alone (she doesn’t dislike a lot of things

Since Alexandria was a child, she has always been self-conscious about her body and herself. People would always make fun of her for being chubby and overweight to the point where she began to hate herself. As she got older, she began to ignore all the comments she received from others including her parents. She stopped caring about what other people thought of her, but sometimes it still affected her when someone called her something she was not. She tried her best to not care about her appearance, but whenever she looked in the mirror, all the negative words said to her began to surface and come out. Alexandria likes to doodle on her hands when she’s bored and play scenes from her favorite stories with her older sister. She isn’t afraid to try new things whether it’s a new dish or a game she’s never played before. She can be a bit stubborn, but if she knows she’s wrong then she will try to understand. She doesn’t like when people worry about her and she likes to fight her battles by herself rather than asking anyone else for help. She likes to do everything by herself without ever wanting to ask anyone for help, because she didn’t want people to think she’s weak. She tries to be strong and brave even when she feels weak.

Favorite color(s); Pink and Lavender

Favorite Season: Fall

Likes: Doodling, acting, stories, games, puzzles, soft music, her sister, gardening, waking up early, sweets, playing in the leaves, spicy food and rain.

Dislikes: her parents, her older brother, being forgotten, being hated, nuts, and parties

He’s a silent man, who chooses to speak only when he needs to most of the time. He barely speaks because he prefers to keep to himself, because he believes no one would care about what he says anyways. As a kid, he was always smiling all the time so he has smile lines on his face. He also loved to play the piano when he was younger but he hasn't touched the piano ever since. He's become a shadow of the person he once was after his family was murdered. Rogue takes it upon himself to take revenge and find the people who killed his family. He stops using his given name on that day and takes the name Rogue, because he believes he doesn’t deserve the name his father gave to him after the things he did. He grew up with a loving family, and a dream of one day becoming a musician, but it all changed after that day. Even though he doesn’t speak a lot, he does listen and pay attention. He also cares in his own way like giving someone a larger portion of food while he gets the smaller portion or giving someone his cloak when they are cold. He would be the kind of person to buy you a nice and thoughtful gift, because of how much he pays attention. He keeps a small flute he carved himself in his pocket at all times, because he likes playing it.

Favorite color(s): Red

Favorite season: Winter

Likes: playing the piano, archery, counting the stars in the sky, playing the flute, music, nature, and the sound of birds chirping in the morning,

Dislikes: the king, talking, the cold, and loud noises (he doesn’t really dislike a lot of things)

(He has elf ears, but I can only choose one bc of the 10 image limit 😭)

Ren is a shy character who likes to keep to himself most of the time, but he does speak a lot once you get to know him. He gets embarrassed pretty easily, and he can be clumsy sometimes which is funny, because you would never expect it from someone like him. He doesn’t like when people give him compliments, because he doesn’t know what to say in return. He always has a serious face, and it’s rare to see him smile. He tends to blush a lot whenever he’s complimented, because he isn’t used to it. He has a hard time showing affection and returning it, because he never received a lot of affection in general. When someone asks him about something he loves, he gets really passionate about it and excited; he can talk about it for hours if you asked him too. Whenever someone jokes around with him, it takes him a while to realize it’s a joke so he always laughs late. It’s also hard for him to detect sarcasm, so he always takes it seriously whenever someone is being sarcastic towards him. He’s the kind of person who would find dad jokes funny and try to make some himself. He’s pretty intelligent, but he can be a little clueless sometimes. He also has trust issues, because whenever he becomes attached to someone, they always end up leaving him once they know his secret. Ren isn’t ashamed of being an elf, so he likes to walk around without hiding his ears even though he gets a lot of stares and hate from others. Ren doesn’t like hugging or touching people, but he doesn’t mind when someone does it back to him as much. He loves archery which is why he keeps a bow and arrow on him at all times. He loves to play the lyre his father gave him whenever he’s outside in nature, because it calms him.

Favorite color(s): silver

Favorite season: Spring

Likes: playing the lyre, nature, solitude, dad jokes, fishing, being outside, archery, hiking, reading, math (yes, he loves math), gardening, sweets, quiet and swimming

Dislikes: The cold, parties, crowds, spicy food, compliments, and loud noises

I still have two more characters I'll add later! Yeah, here are my characters! Tell me what you think of them? Which character or characters are your favorite so far? If you have any questions, just ask and I'll do my best to answer!

Tagging some mutuals! @insane---chaos @oscar-fairchild @nolu @mitsuhamiyamizi @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @ineedadrinkorsleep @older-brother-kit @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @brotherhalal-ariahs @fieryfantasybooklover @ghostlivvy @zzoyalantsov @purplebass @vxnya-hxrgreeves @morgnstern @anxiousbookenthusiast @theprinceoftheaire @themostawesomehuman

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tiredassmage · 3 years

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Character Page 𓆰 Brooke

A character page for what is, at its core, something of another au for my main, Astor, buttt... it’s basically bc one day I had a random bought of inspiration and followed through on “what if I came up with a deer-like race for XIV” and... then I spent like two hours making lore for them and listening to whitetail deer noises on YouTube. So! He’s different enough to warrant his own lil page! ^.^ I will try to cover enough of this theoretical lore that things make sense, but hopefully without going... ridiculously overboard and keeping you here for hours over a race of my own brainworms. xD

BASICS ---

Name: Brooke, technically like the water feature “brook,” but, somewhere along the line, someone thought it was spelled with an ‘e’ like the more common rendition of the name, and he did not have enough of an understanding of the written Eorzean Common Tongue to know the difference.

Age: It’s a little hazy, but approximately 28 summers by Shadowbringers

Nameday: 17th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Race: Dryad

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Martial Status: Single(?)

OC Tags: ch: brooke

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---

Hair: Long, falling down about his mid-shoulders when worn loosely and dark brown. Typically worn with at least one braid, and often pulled back in some sort of fashion. Occasionally braids feathers or flowers into it.

Eyes: A pale crystal blue, almost gray. Often wide, curious, and warm.

Height: 5 fulms, 10 ilms, not accounting for a full grown set of antlers.

Build: Lithe, lean, and long in the legs - all traits rather common among his race. As a fully mature adult, Brooke generally grows in a full antler set featuring an average of 4 points that typically form a generally crescent moon-like shape. The typical adult male Dryad will grow anywhere from 4-6 points, while a female will grow 2-4.

Distinguishing Marks: Much of Brooke is rather... distinguishing, given the rarity of his people to the rest of Eorzea. They are generally a reclusive people, living deep within the woods and mountains from the land, migrating occasionally with the season and food supply, but rarely actually leaving. Given such, it wasn’t until prior to the Calamity that Brooke ventured beyond the bounds of his wooded home deep in the Shroud at the behest of his herd that he came into contact with the outside world. Given the antlers and the fluffy ears and tail, most... didn’t exactly greet him with kindness. He was odd and unlike anyone else most had seen. The Calamity has pushed their survivors from their homes and more into the light, but they’re still a relatively unknown factor. Many regarded him initially with the same judgements and mistrust afforded the beast tribes.

Outside of the physical denotations of his race, the only other marks one might occasionally find that could be helpful are the paints he still tries to find some time to don in honor of his kin and ancestors. Life as an adventurer has taken him further and further from his roots, but no further from his respect for their traditions.

PERSONAL ---

Profession: Brooke initially left his herd, sent by their leader, to act as an emissary to the nation of Gridania in the days leading up to the Calamity. While the details of the time after Cartenau are yet fuzzy to him, he had not intended to abandon his post in the Calamity’s wake. In the world that remains, however, he is unable to ascertain whether any of his herd survived. By lucky chance, he has fallen in with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, lending his strength and mixed arcane knowledge to their fight for peace.

Main Job: Brooke and his people are something of an enigma by standard definitions of magical practice. They are gifted in a wide variety of arts, and their semi-nomadic nature has brought them into contact with various remnants of ages past. In Brooke’s case, the closest standard classification may be Red Magic, as he possesses an affinity with a wide variety of skills typically associated with both White and Black Magic, though, unlike the duelists of the Red, Brooke still prefers to focus his energies through a staff or scepter than a blade.

Hobbies: Gathering is more a standard survival skill of his people than a hobby, so he would hesitate to classify his botanical knowledge and pursuits as such. Instead, he would much prefer to count his reading as his favorite one - particularly into history and prevalent folklore and tales. In his role as emissary, he sought understanding between his people and those sharing the Twelveswood with them, even if they had been doing so unwittingly. Thus, it was only natural he needed to seek an understanding of their customs as well as shed some light on his own. He finds the telling of history and belief systems fascinating, marveling at the many differences and nuances to be found within them.

Languages: Though Brooke possesses the Echo, he still struggles with languages, at times. He has steadily grasped a more firm understanding of the Eorzean Common Tongue, but it would not be wrong to say his Echo granted him a better understanding of the language and intentions of creatures, beasts, and elements than any language of man.

Residence: At times, it is still difficult to feel settled among civilization, but his efforts and work with the Scions have afforded him the security of a small residence within the protection of Gridania. At least the more seasoned adventurers aren’t so prone to gawping at his unusual appearance.

Birthplace: His herd lived somewhere deep within the Twelveswood. After the destruction reigned down by Bahamut though, he has found more malms of it unfamiliar to him than ever, and he cannot even be certain they survived - much less that their home may have.

Religion: Dryads believe in something one might call spirts, more than any gods. They revere natural elements such as wind, water, and earth and pay a deep respect to the balance of these things. Taking more than one needs and reckless destruction are considered sacrilegious to them. They host celebrations for each season, each having a representative and associated elemental spirits of focus - the closest one might find to a pantheon of gods in their beliefs. This is something he has held fast to even in the face of their many adventures.

TRAITS ---

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

PERSONALITY ---

Curious, warm, and soft-spoken, Brooke has a quiet love for life that some might find a little naïve. He’s a deeply passionate individual that does not often find a reason to hide the way he feels. He believes strongly in such things as the beauty of a star-dappled sky or a color-changing sunset. He feels strongly about preserving the ways of his people, finding a nostalgic familiarity in them as he uncovers the world beyond the wood. It has been daunting, at times.

But curiosity has kept spurring him forward. Seeing marvels like airships and linkpearls up close are strange, sometimes terrifying, but incredible experiences.

He endeavors to remain honest to himself and true to his beliefs. He does not believe in turning others away over superficial differences. If one is in need, that should be enough. Where they are from or what creed they follow should not restrict them from aid. It might make him something of an idealist, but if it is foolish to believe in and want such things, then he would gladly be a fool. He tries his best to remain willing to learn, and finds joy in understanding and sharing. He’d gladly listen to someone tell stories for hours, if it would make them happy.

ABOUT --

Born and raised with his herd in the secluded depths of the Twelveswood, Brooke thought and new little of the world beyond the wooded reaches of their herd until he was well along to becoming a young adult. In the brewing chaos of looming calamity, their leader bid him go forth to their neighbors of the wood in Gridania in an attempt to reach an understanding and mutual aid. Such levels of destruction would doom them all, regardless, and she bid them not remain idle and wait for the coming darkness.

The troubling times would provide their own draws and setbacks to opening a dialogue with the Gridanians and their Seedseers, but, ultimately, Brooke would succeed in at least opening these discussions, revealing the Dryads’ presence within Eorzea with certainty and agreeing to aid in the developing struggles against the Garlean Empire.

What, exactly, followed is, as many others have described, something of a blur. The only certainty of the matter was that it left the young Dryad stranded alone in a wholly new and twisted realm that was all just... a bit funny. Familiar in ways... Entirely not in others.

He may just have ran afoul of a little cult. Y’know. Nothing major. Definitely not a voidsent interested in aether. Definitely not his. Or... perhaps he did. And perhaps he’s quite lucky he met an adventurer not keen on letting cultists lurk about in underground tombs or let unsuspecting strangers get turned into voidsent treats. Quite lucky, that! But... all’s well that ends well, right..?

With a little to be desired for a solid sense of direction and purpose, Brooke found himself once again woven into a greater tapestry of fate than he could have ever predicted. There were, thankfully, a few... passingly familiar faces along the way, it seemed, but still little in the way of ascertaining the fate of those he had left behind, grown up with.

But there was still their hope - hope for a better future, for a way forward, the dawn of another day they could enjoy and share with their loved ones. That had always been worth fighting for, so fight for it, he would.

#ffxiv ocs #dot talk #character page #character sheet #character profile #bc i'll never remember exactly how i tagged it #and i'll try all 3 of those inevitably #ch: brooke

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brief-candle · 4 years

Text

αℓεα ιαcтα εsт - various kny x reader [1]

reuploaded bc my tumblr is being stinky >:(( update: still being stinky. for some reason this isn’t showing up in any tags no matter what i do and i’m so confused? bc the second chapter’s showing up??? idk :/

also was wondering if y’all would be interested in seeing some art that i do sometimes, bc i’ve kinda been getting back into drawing lately!

THIS IS A YANDERE SERIES. JUST SO YOU KNOW. I WILL WARN OF ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS, BUT THIS ONE’S NICE AND TAME!! TY FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!! <3

GENERAL OTHER STUFF TO KNOW BEFORE YOU READ: MC (READER) IS FEMALE; THERE IS A BUNCH OF CANON DIVERGENCE; MANGA-ONLY CHARACTERS WILL APPEAR IN LATER CHAPTERS, THOUGH I DON’T PLAN TO DEAL WITH ANY PLOT ELEMENTS THAT DON’T APPEAR IN THE ANIME.

edit: chapter 2 is out!!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the trio that were treading unfamiliar ground. The scenery looked very much like that which they'd seen countless times before, but that was to be expected to an extent. They were in the same country that they'd always been in, after all, however that didn't alleviate the sense that something was amiss in these parts. These parts that were so close to where they'd always been, yet seemed so completely and utterly different all at once.

"Tanjirou...!" One of them wailed, as usual. He was already a couple of paces behind, but had really began to drag his feet over the last couple of metres. Though this behaviour was very much usual for the wailer, Tanjirou didn't act annoyed in the slightest. Not that such a thing was surprising in any way- Tanjirou was too patient and kind for his own good sometimes.

He turned to face the boy, who was barely making an effort to catch up, while the third begrudgingly stopped also. With eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern, he asked: "what's wrong, Zenitsu?"

Zenitsu- the wailer- was huffing and puffing when he finally made it over to Tanjirou. It appeared difficult to even stand up straight, as he wavered and wobbled with each slight and rare gust of wind.

Still wheezing, he gasped out a desperate question, "are we nearly there yet?"

Tanjirou stared at him for a moment in silence, before sighing deeply.

"Hey- what was that for?!" Although completely out of breath just a moment earlier, it seemed that his energy had been restored enough to begin to screech. It was whiny and hurt the ears, though that was probably its purpose, knowing Zenitsu. It was no wonder why he couldn't get married when he began to speak using such a tone of voice; it truly was grating on the ears. Never mind his whiny begging, clinging, desperate tone and actions mixed with his general perversion. If you happened to be feminine and breathing, chances are Zenitsu was interested.

But I digress.

Their companion snorted before erupting into a fit of mean-spirited cackling at the blond's outburst, having held it back from even his initial whining. This only served to fuel Zenitsu's irritation, leading to his pitch raising and voice increasing in volume as he began to (attempt to) berate the boar-headed male.

"Zenitsu..." oh dear, it seems that Tanjirou is tired of this situation. He even pulled out the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' tone of voice and expression.

Zenitsu noticed this immediately, quieting down very soon after, only to pipe up with a, "yes?"

"This is the third time that you've asked in five minutes."

"And?!" And suddenly, his enthusiasm that he could have been putting into walking and actually getting somewhere instead of simply complaining returned with a vengeance, arms flailing with fury as he did so, "we've been walking since dawn, and you're telling me that we're not there yet?!"

Tanjirou nodded.

"No way...!" His voice lingered long after he'd collapsed to the ground, lying there like a starfish and staring at the sky with a gaze like that of a dead fish.

"Hey, Zenitsu, are you alright?" Tanjirou- bless his cotton socks- had asked without a moment's hesitation as soon as it had happened. However he did make a very strange noise of confusion soon after, if that counts for anything. Either way, though, he was still staring down at his friend with a very worried face. Their friend, on the other hand, only began to snicker louder at such a display.

"This is the end for me, Tanjirou." Said Zenitsu, not even glancing in Tanjirou's direction as he did so. Each word was monotonous, too even in tone to be from Zenitsu. "You must go on without mE-"

His even-toned speaking evolved into a high-pitched shriek as he was dragged up and slung over the shirtless male's shoulder- him still cackling- before the latter began to sprint away.

"Hey, Inosuke-!"

"INOSUKE, PUT ME DOWN, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP--"

Tanjirou didn't even have time to sigh again before he had to sprint after them, lest he get left behind. Though even if he did, he supposed it would be easy to find them without even having to sniff them out, with the obnoxious laughter and the terrified screaming. For such a normal, kindhearted boy, he certainly had some strange friends.

They kept running along the path until the sun flew over them, now threatening to disappear beyond even more hills. However the scenery here was rather different, with large fields of grass to the left and crops growing to the right. It was well-organised and looked well-maintained, however Tanjirou didn't even want to know how many people would have to work so rigorously to maintain the land.

"Oh, are you boys demon slayers by any chance?"

It was sudden, abrupt, and caught all three of them off guard. Perhaps if it didn't sound so gentle and feminine then they'd have reacted a bit more quickly and with a bit more force. However they were glad they didn't when they saw the owner of the voice: a young woman, ordinary-looking by all means, but with a certain twinkle in her eyes that looked very amused by what had just happened. And for good reason, too, as one had screamed, one had turned so quickly that it was surprising that their neck didn't snap, and the other grunted. Except it was more of a surprised grunt if anything. Though it was extremely hard to tell the difference between each type of grunt.

"Did I scare you? I'm terribly sorry." She bowed politely as she spoke, each word matching her reserved and respectful demeanour. However she clearly wasn't adept enough at hiding how much enjoyment she'd gotten out of witnessing such strange reactions, as the corners of her mouth struggled to not turn upwards.

"No, no, it's fine; there's certainly no need for a lovely lady like yourself to apologise!" Of course, this was Zenitsu speaking, having recovered rather quickly from his screech that was much more ladylike than any lady that the other two had come across. It was clear that he wanted to move on from that as soon as possible, in some vain hope that this person might be the one that was sympathetic enough to marry him. So far, he'd had no luck. And he was growing more desperate by the minute.

But as he tried to grow closer, he was soon flung a couple of metres away in an instant. Such an event was followed by the woman's scolding voice. However, for once, it wasn't Zenitsu getting scolded. Instead, in an unlikely turn of events, it was something getting scolded for his sake. Every now and again into her scolding session, a whinny attempted to be heard, only to result in even more scolding. Tanjirou and Inosuke only looked on, minds just as blank as their faces. What does one do in such a situation?

Well, upon realising that Zenitsu was bleeding, Tanjirou very quickly decided to try and help him. Inosuke merely watched on for a moment, before making a sound of awe and withdrawing his swords from their sheaths with a rather terrifying cackle,

"What a beast! If I can take it down, then-"

"Please don't try and fight my horse."

"Inosuke!"

-----------

It had taken a while to sort everything out, so much so that nightfall was but minutes away. Thankfully, even after the Inosuke incident, the woman had been willing to let them stay in her house for the night, perhaps more if Zenitsu needed extra rest. His friends already knew that he'd play on the illness card just to continue trying to court the poor girl, but it was something that they simply couldn't hope to change.

"She's really kind, isn't she?" Zenitsu gushed to them in the shared room that had been provided, "giving us all this stuff, even after what Inosuke tried to pull." It was impossible to miss the annoyance lacing his voice as he mentioned Inosuke, who had now taken off the board head and was lying on the best futon available. Not because he deserved it, but because he refused to move off it for Zenitsu who, despite his ulterior motives to his injury, was indeed injured.

At that, Tanjirou grew curious, "Inosuke, have you never seen a horse before?"

"Horse? You mean that thing that Zenitsu lost against? 'Course not!"

'Course not?

"Inosuke..." Oh, how Tanjirou wanted to explain everything wrong with what was just said, but that would require too much time and too much energy for the night. A night which had followed a hectic day which was extremely tiring.

He glanced over at the box he'd been carrying all day, lips pursed slightly to accompany a conflicted expression. Was it alright for Nezuko to come out here, when their host could walk in at any second? It would be difficult to explain their situation, especially to someone who may have lost their entire family to a demon. It could also be dangerous to Nezuko to be put in such a position. And so he shuffled over to the box, opting to sit near it rather than to open it.

"Sorry, Nezuko," he murmured, patting the wooden walls of the box carefully, "but you'll have to stay in there for a bit. I'm sure I can let you out for a bit tomorrow, if we're still here."

Inside the box, there was a bit of shuffling to be heard. But soon after was an acknowledging grunt, one which Tanjirou thanked her for, face forming a bright and beaming smile. It was just in time that he'd shuffled back to his futon, as the woman knocked upon the door and entered very soon after. The relief he felt knowing that he had narrowly avoided a sticky situation was immense, though he had to admit that he felt a little bit nervous when thinking of what could have so easily taken place instead.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, a tray in her hands. Immediately after shutting the door behind her, she placed the tray on a nearby table, sitting beside it. "I made some tea, if you'd like some. I figured it'd been a long day for you all, so I decided to make some tea to help soothe the body and mind." Her words were spun like silk, with a quality to her voice like warm honey. The tea merely became one of the many aromas which wafted around the house, mingling and mixing to form one very odd (and quite overpowering) smell.

Zenitsu was (predictably) the first to join her, singing her praises to the heavens. She merely accepted them with the humility and grace that they'd come to expect from her, and so they all began to sip their tea in comfortable silence.

That is, until she was the one to shatter the comfortable atmosphere.

"I'm sorry for how abrupt it may be for me to say this," she started with, glancing briefly into each of their eyes before returning it back downwards to her own cup. It was held between her hands, and she squeezed it ever so slightly before continuing, "but I fear I must ask, lest anything undesirable occurs."

After one more sip, which felt so drawn out that it was as if she had sipped it until it was all gone, she began to elaborate: "Please, no matter what you hear, do not go out after nightfall."

That was certainly not what they were expecting to hear, especially being demon slayers. Their whole occupation was to fight demons, which required them to go out at night. It was safe to say that such a thing was a very odd request. Even if she had phrased it more like a demand.

Indeed, as she began to speak of that which she wished of them, her voice seemed to drop the kindness that they'd grown to associate with it. The honey that she wound into each word was cut loose, leaving that which she said with a bitter taste in their mouths.

Well, not Inosuke's. He, after chugging the rest of his tea (which was still very much piping hot), asked with little to no hesitation: "Why?"

The girl clearly wasn't expecting this, blinking owlishly twice before repeating the question with a slight tilt of the head.

"Yeah- why not? We're demon slayers, after all, so it's not as if the demons pose a threat." As usual, Inosuke was cocky and boisterous in everything that he did. His words were drowned in such an attitude, his movements were made from them, his expressions screaming them. Still, it did little to affect her, who sharply poked a hole in what he'd said without a moment's delay.

"Really? Then does Kibutsuji Muzan not pose a threat? Or the Demon Moons?" This time, even her eyes had dropped the gentle and kind mirth to them. It was difficult to recall the last time that she'd blinked as she sat there, the sharp colours found in her irises standing out much more in the dim candlelight as she bore holes into he who spoke against her.

Before he could speak up again, she rose to her feet, staring down at them all. Perhaps it was the fiery and temperamental glow of the candlelight rather than the calm and natural light from the sun that accentuated the tense atmosphere- so tense that perhaps a knife could not even slice through it. Perhaps it was also the lighting that made her seem much more ominous than she had at any other moment, that made the scowl she wore more menacing than it would be. It would have been a question as to whether she'd been scowling at all, whether her lip had been curled that much and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that the skin between them crinkled, had she not spoken so coldly and with a tone so clipped.

"There is a difference between confidence and foolishness. Perhaps it would be best that you learn this difference before your next fight."

This humble farmer, who'd chuckled with them just a few hours before and boasted little more than a simple yet productive life, uttered sentences in which wisdom, the kind which could be born only from experience, ran like rivers. Yet when prodded when she let them slip, she merely brushed it off, claiming a relative used to say it. Or something to that extent.

She bowed then, deeper than ever before, and after excusing herself had disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

No conversation stuck that night, and sleep had a similar pattern when it finally came.

-----------

Despite struggling sleeping, on edge due to events that never ended up occurring, the three awoke a bit after daybreak. It was about five minutes later that a knock on the door echoed through the room. It was rather surprising to find the woman who was so moody and distant the night before, looking so chipper and energetic in the morning. Once again, she brought in a tray, bearing a simple breakfast for them all and accompanied by some more tea. She placed it on that table once more, removing the other tray at the same time. Once again, she excused herself, though this time it was with the same merriment that they'd expected from her before the occurrence of the previous night. It seemed so hazy now, almost like a fever dream.

However they knew it wasn't. They knew it was real, without even having to confront each other about it. Although she never brought it up and cleverly avoided giving them a chance to, they didn't doubt for a moment that what had happened the previous night was equally odd and true.

And so, while she excused herself from the house very soon after taking away the almost untouched tea from the night before, they concocted a plan. It was morally very wrong, but their curiosity overturned their morals in this place. Not only was her behaviour rather odd, but the more that they thought about it, the house was rather odd as well.

"It smells so weird..." Tanjirou had found himself to be the first to complain about the house. The smell was beginning to irritate him with how powerful it was, so much so that he couldn't even begin to separate the different scents and their origins. Such a thing was so simple for him to do usually, yet he was unable to do so here. It was unnerving to think about; a demon could attack at any notice and he wouldn't even be able to know.

Inosuke was next up: "y'know, I was excited and all at first with how soft the floor is- I mean, where else do you get floor that's soft? In a house?!" The more he thought, the more he got distracted by how much he liked the softness of the material under his feet and hands, and how it separated in between his fingers and toes but was still so soft-

"Get on with it, we don't have all day," Zenitsu commented bitterly, quite upset that his most recent crush wasn't honest and trusting of him, someone she'd met literally the day before.

"Ah-" and Inosuke was brought back to present day, clearing his throat, "but yeah, I can't even feel anything else apart from how fuckin' soft this floor is. And the house!" He slammed open the door to the hallways, terribly startling Zenitsu in the process, "Is full of it!"

Zenitsu's heart seemed to be racing too fast for him to be able to participate in their little chat for a bit, but thankfully five minutes with a cup of tea had calmed his nerves. Not before he began to mutter very angrily about Inosuke under his breath for 'trying to kill' him, mind, but with a gentle prod from Tanjirou he began to share as well.

"I've never really come across anything like it..." he mumbled, quite ashamed of it as he dug a finger in his ear, "and it might sound kinda stupid, but I can't hear anything through these walls."

It took a moment for that one to sink in- such a thing seemed impossible. However he soon added on to what he said.

"Well, actually I do hear some stuff. But it's really faint, even though I can't hear stuff that's right outside."

"Like what?" Tanjirou immediately asked. This prompted Zenitsu to think deeply, staring up at the ceiling and humming for a moment.

"Dunno. Footsteps? They sound kinda far, though, so surely that's not it."

That was true. And so the trio began to think a bit more, staring at different places in the room and humming to themselves as they did so. Tanjirou even began to talk to Nezuko about it, even if she couldn't respond. Seeing as their host wasn't in the house currently, he deemed it safe to let her out and wander around a bit to stretch her legs. She had been in that box for over a full day, after all.

Then, as he watched her toddle around, an idea struck him.

"Wait, Zenitsu!" The sudden outburst shocked the aforementioned male, but (thankfully) not bad enough that he needed more tea and a time-out session.

Tanjirou pointed at his younger sister, who stared up at him questioningly, "how loud are Nezuko's footsteps?"

It was a strange question to ask out of the blue, but with how serious Tanjirou looked, Zenitsu replied as soon as he processed it, "pretty loud. Way louder than even Inosuke's."

This prompted an irritated growl from Inosuke, who looked ready to brawl with Zenitsu over the implications of that statement.

At this, Tanjirou lowered a fist onto his open palm, an expression of realisation on his face, "then what if they are footsteps?"

This question seemed even stranger at first glance- how could they be footsteps when footsteps from right outside the room couldn't even be heard? It just didn't seem logical, especially when the one that was navigating the hallways wasn't even very stealthy from what they'd seen of her. But then it clicked, and Zenitsu's face paled at the very notion of it.

"You can't mean-"

"Yes, I do." His face was deadly serious as he stared at Zenistu, ignoring Inosuke's persistent pestering to know what was going on. The latter's questions were answered anyway when he elaborated: "I think there's a demon in this house."

-----------

"Tanjirou..." Zenitsu was barely able to speak through the chattering of his teeth, which was the one thing that didn't falter about him as they headed down the stairs. Even Inosuke was being quieter, not uttering a single thing, nor even laughing at the blond's misery from underneath that boar mask of his. They'd found the staircase from behind a bookshelf, only doing so when Inosuke had felt the drag marks it had left on the carpet that he so loved.

It was dark, and would only get darker the further down that they went. It would be all too easy for the girl to trap them in there if she discovered where they'd gone, but it was a risk that they were willing to take. For there was a chance, no matter how slim, that she may not know of the demon in her house. Or perhaps it is forcing her to provide shelter for it to stay. There were too many possibilities which could mean that she was in danger, and all of them stemmed from the demon being in her house.

"Tanjirou...!" He repeated, a bit louder and whinier this time. Even Nezuko, who had forced them to allow her to tag along, shot him a look of disapproval. And if nothing else shut him up, then that certainly did, for Zenitsu was a creep to the core, and would drop anything that any living girl disliked that he did in a heartbeat. At least it came in handy sometimes, such as now.

There was light further ahead, and Tanjirou could smell it clearly now: it truly was the scent of a demon, and they would have left without knowing such a thing had they not been so insistent before. Sometimes, in rare moments like these and when he was asleep, Zenitsu was truly useful to have around. But then he squealed, and a huge list of reasons as to why not to have him around could easily be thought up.

Either way, there was no point in sneaking around now that Zenitsu had blown their cover so soon. Duct tape would have really come in handy. If only it was invented about half a century earlier. But, alas, this was their fate, and it was one that they had no choice but to live through. They didn't have the upper hand of surprise, but they certainly had the upper hand in numbers.

And if everything went to pot then they could just knock Zenitsu out. Always seems to work a treat.

As they crept into the light of the room, they took note of the figure kneeling in the centre. He faced away from them, though many of his features could be noted of. The first and most bizarre thing to note was the sword laying beside him. At least, it was the most bizarre until they took note of his clothing, which was extremely similar to theirs, though he also adorned a white jacket over the top of it. His hair was a mess of white, tinted with the warm hue of the flickering flames of the torches around him.

He hadn't noticed Nezuko's growling until now, nor her intense and furious glare. If looks could kill, that guy wouldn't even have ashes left.

"You really haven't learned what respect is at all, have you, you damned brat?"

That voice- how could Tanjirou forget that voice? The voice of the Hashira who had attacked his sister from a couple of years ago with a twisted grin all over his face. He was quick to understand Nezuko's growling, and had to hold her back from rushing in to attack him. The one thing that protected him from her was now gone, and he was one of what they hated.

He turned, a similar expression to the one back then written on his face, with those purple eyes still so wide, smile so wide that it split his face and nonexistent eyebrows furrowed. Though his rise to his feet was slow, obviously taking his time, they still didn't attack. Zenitsu's whole body was clattering with fear, clamming up and making him unable to say anything at all.

"It looks like I'll have to teach you myself, doesn't it? Maybe then it'll finally stick, even with a moron like you!"

As a human, he was already extremely quick. But as a demon he was even quicker as he lunged towards them, blade in hand and all too eager to strike.

#yandere x reader #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader

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magefeatheredfic · 5 years

Text

SLIDES INTO @mysticmessenger-secret-santa TWO WEEKS LATE WITH STARBUCKS!!

Hey @choco-gato! I’m your secret santa! Fricking finally, right? Life was kicking my ass all through December and now that I’m finally in a Good Mental Place, I find myself needing to move very suddenly and unexpectedly so!! This is a lot shorter and a lot more sfw than I had originally intended for it to be, but I wanted to get it posted for you anyway! If you like it I’ll probably continue on with the smut for you once I have more free time bc that’s the kind of person I am lmao

Pairing: Ray x Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,710

The ballroom was magnificent, more so than you could have possibly imagined. Strands of tiny lights glowed softly overhead, twinkling like stars in the sky. Tables loaded with food and drink and festive sweets lined the walls, while a proud Korean Fir covered in glittering glass ornaments and golden tinsel stood at the center of the room, towering over the mingling masses. There were far more people in attendance than you would have guessed from the amount of Believers you’d encountered since you’d arrived; hundreds milled about the ballroom, talking and dancing and laughing and simply reveling in the merry atmosphere.

“Oh, Ray…” you murmur to the man at your side, eyes wide as you take in the picturesque scene before you. “It’s so beautiful. This is what you’ve been working on these past few weeks?”

When you turn toward him, Ray is watching you with a smile so fond it brings a blush to your cheeks. “It is,” he confirms. “Myself, the Savior, and a handful of our most trusted Believers. It was a surprise for the whole of Mint Eye.” He turns back toward the crowd, looking out at the sea of people with pride in his eyes before returning his gaze to you. “I hope you enjoy it as much as everyone else seems to.”

You tilt your head to the side, brows knit in confusion. “You say that as if you won’t be staying.” You hope you’ve misinterpreted his words, but the way his face falls confirms your suspicions. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. He gives your hand a squeeze in return.

“I would give anything to stay here and enjoy the party with you,” he mourns, “but I have plenty more work to do.”

Your shoulders fall, disappointment settling heavily in your heart. “But Ray, you’ve been working so hard for this. Surely you can take just a few hours to relax and enjoy the party you helped set up?”

Ray fidgets, averts his eyes. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His gloved fingers rub at the back of your hand. “I… I had thought so as well, but the Savior said…” He trails off, shakes his head. “That redhead with the RFA isn’t taking the night off for Christmas, so I can’t either. I have no excuse to be lazing around while he tracks us down.”

Your nose wrinkles at his mention of the Savior. Of course she was the one who made him feel like he couldn’t enjoy even one night. “There’s a difference between taking a break and lazing around,” you tell him sternly. “You deserve a break, Ray.”

Ray smiles, the hand that isn’t holding yours coming up to his chest and settling over his heart. “Don’t waste your worry on me,” he says. “I’ll take a break when the RFA has been brought to Magenta, and we can all enjoy our paradise together. Until then… I need to keep working.”

With one final squeeze of your hand, Ray slips out of the ballroom, leaving you alone with the hundreds of people you don’t know. Now, when you look out at the crowd, they seem less warm and merry and more foreign and frightening. The glittering tree looks more imposing than inspiring. As you make your way through the crowd of people dancing along to holiday classics, you feel just as lonely as you had whilst sitting alone in your room before Ray came to collect you.

The Savior had certainly done a fantastic job of isolating you. She wanted you to remain mysterious, she’d said, because you had special privileges. Ray had given you permission to wander the wing that housed your room, but that was as far as you could go on your own. On the rare occasions that you saw other Believers in your wing, they would simply bow their heads and greet you as Special Believer and hurry along their way, almost as if they had been instructed not to speak to you. Even after V had attempted to rescue you, when Ray had set guards outside your door, they only spoke to you as much as was necessary.

Now was no different. As you make your way through the crowd, some of the Believers smile at you and some bow their heads, but by and large they ignore your passing. You find yourself at one of the tables loaded with food and consider making yourself a plate, simply for the sake of doing something other than wandering around the ballroom aimlessly, but decide against it. You can't find your appetite, knowing that Ray has to spend even Christmas night working without rest.

Suddenly, an idea strikes. With a grin on your face and a gleam in your eye you hurry around the ballroom, grabbing decorations and knick knacks small enough to stuff into your pockets or otherwise hide on your person. Returning to the tables you grab two plates and load them both up, one with meats and vegetables and as many sides as you can fit, the other with cookies and cakes and sweet treats galore. With a plate in each hand, careful not to drop them, you work your way back across the ballroom and out into the maze of Magenta.

When you reach the door to the room you're looking for, you balance yourself on one foot and gently kick the door with your other to knock.

“Come in,” the voice calls from inside. You look down at the piled high plates you carry in each hand, and frown at the doorknob.

“My hands are full,” you answer, and almost immediately you hear the sounds of Ray scurrying out of his chair to get the door for you.

He gasps out your name as he pulls the door open, scanning you up and down as if worried you might be hurt. “What's wrong?” he asks. “What are you doing here? You should be at the party.” His eyes pause on the plates of food in your hands, flick to the strands of tinsel around your neck, then finally settle on your face, confusion weighing heavy on his brow.

“I can't enjoy a party you helped set up knowing that you can't be there to enjoy it, too,” you tell him with a soft smile. “So, I brought the party to you, instead.”

Ray's eyes are wide as you squeeze your way past him. You set the plates of food down on the computer desk, and begin to pull decorations from your pockets.

“You did this… for me?”

Ray's voice draws your attention back to him, and you see his shock still evident on his face. You wave him toward you, and when he approaches you wrap him up in your arms.

“Of course I did,” you whisper into his ear as you hold him close. “You deserve to enjoy Christmas just as much as anyone down in that ballroom. And I'd rather spend mine with you than with them.”

Ray clings to you, buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your skin. His voice quivers as he speaks. “No one's ever done anything this nice for me before. Thank you.”

You rub his back reassuringly before pulling yourself from his grip. You fish from your pocket a short strand of tinsel you'd sniped from the tree in the ballroom and wrap it around his neck like a scarf. Ray laughs, soft and gentle, and watches the subtle refractions of light that the shimmery material casts around the room. While he's distracted, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Ray.” You grin at the red tint that floods his cheeks. “Help me decorate?”

The two of you hang the tree ornaments you'd stolen in the nooks and crannies of his computer setup, wrap the tinsel around the monitor. When you’re finally ready to turn your attention to the plates of food, you hesitate, belatedly noticing you'd neglected to bring utensils. Ray seems to notice, plucking a thick slice of turkey from the first plate with his fingers and offering it to you.

“We can feed each other,” he says, his tone reassuring. You smile, but rather than take a bite of the proffered meat, you take it from his hand and set it back down on the plate.

“I may have forgotten silverware, but I did remember something much more important,” you tease, reaching into your pocket for the final decoration. Ray cocks his head to the side, curious, as you pull out a sprig of fresh mistletoe and hold it above your head with a grin.

“Oh. Oh!” The blush returns to his cheeks as he remembers the tradition behind the mistletoe. He steps toward you, sets a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing your face with his thumb. He hesitates, his eyes flitting anxiously across your features, and you smile at him.

“It's okay if you don't want to,” you reassure him. “Or if you want me to.”

“Wil… Will you?” he asks, averting his eyes.

You set the mistletoe down on the desk and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a chaste kiss. His lips move slowly against yours, following your lead. His hands come to rest on your hips, his arms wrapping around your waist when you lean into him. You card one hand through his hair as your mouths move together, and Ray lets out a soft moan at the touch. He chases your lips when you start to pull back, and you chuckle before humoring him with another kiss. When the two of you finally part, you have to press a finger to his lips to stop him from following yours.

“We've got all night, Ray,” you tell him with a laugh. “We should eat.”

He presses a teasing kiss to the tip of your finger. “Just a little longer?” he asks, his tone just shy of a whine. Your heart warms, hearing Ray ask for what he wants so openly, and you can't bring yourself to deny him.

By the time the two of you get to your food, it's long gone cold.

#mysme fic #mystic messenger fic #mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger secret santa #my fic #saeran x mc #sfw #I'M SO LATE I'M SO SORRY FJLKDJ THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME ;;;

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truetgirl · 5 years

Text

Spark of the Holy Fire

The origin story for my first ever fanwalker! It’s been a long time since I’ve done any fanfic and even longer since I’ve made any OCs. Really that’s a tragedy bc I started writing way back when with a big ol’ batch of PJO OCs that we shant speak of here. Lately though I’ve been doing creative writing again and I felt like I wanted to try this, so here we go!

As the wind passed over her face, Rae knew nothing could feel more right in the world. Moonquill’s muscles moved bellow her, wings flapping to keep them aloft as they glided over the moors. It was a rare treat to go home, to have the opportunity to see her father, to visit her mother’s and sister’s graves. Most of the time her duties as a Cathar kept her away. Now, though, Avacyn’s protections were fully restored and the world had grown calmer, more peaceful.

She cast her mind back to that fateful day, Avacyn rising from the shattered remains of the vault. It had been an honor beyond her wildest dreams to witness that moment first hand, to see their protector return to them at last. For her, as a Cathar, what followed had been a blur of righteous battle and rejoicing in victory as she had never tasted before. No longer were they simply holding evil at bay, now they could seek it out where it tried to hide. Each day after Avacyn returned seemed to want the title of best day of her life more than the last. All paled in comparison, however, to the day she met Moonquill…

---

She had been celebrating another victory with her fellow Cathars, this time over vampires in Nephalia, when it happened. Walking out from the tavern where they’d been drinking all night to return to the church where they were camped. Rae had known they weren’t generally supposed to be drinking like this, they all knew that. But lately, nobody had cared much about enforcing that. It was a time of rejoicing, after all, and few had earned it more than the Cathars who had fought through the darkest of times.

In her stupor, Rae was beginning to consider kissing one of her sisters in arms when, suddenly, her mind cleared. She’d been able to feel magic for years, had gotten a sense of what the movement of mana around her felt like while working with Archmages and priests. The feeling she had now was just like that, except instead of feeling the mana be pulled past her, she began to feel it swirl around her.

Following the flow, she looked up, noting briefly that her comrades had all backed away and begun to stare at her. Above she saw, framed by the moon, a pair of pristine white wings holding aloft the form of a gryff, beautiful and graceful, slowly descending upon the street, upon Rae.

Rae had heard there were flocks of gryffs in the skies again, returning with Avacyn, but it was only now she saw one up close. The stories did not do them justice. The gryff’s feathers and hair were a sparkling, pristine white. Its muscles toned and powerful under its skin, yet its whole form lithe and flexible.

The gryff landed and, with a start, Rae realized that the mana she felt was swirling around them both now, grouping them together. She raised a hand, which she realized was surrounded in an aura of light, and stepped toward the gryff. She couldn’t place why, but she felt drawn forward, like this mana around them created a charge to draw them together. The gryff, for her part, stayed perfectly still as Rae’s hand extended toward her and then jerked back. Rae, uncertain of what she was doing, tried again.

This time she felt mana flow into her, as easy as breathing, filling her with calm and certainty. She placed her hand on the gryff’s muzzle, stroking gently, and it was as if a jolt of lightning passed between them. Rae felt herself, standing there, but she also felt the gryff standing before her as if they were one.

“Moonquill…” she muttered, not knowing where she had found the name, but knowing it was right.

The gryff dipped its head, as if it were nodding, and then seemed to speak in Rae’s mind. Speak, perhaps, was not the best word for it, but Rae could understand Moonquill the same way she understood herself.

Following her next instinct, Rae mounted Moonquill, her fellow Cathars staring up at her, their jaws slack with awe at the sight.

“Everyone,” Rae said, trying to keep from laughing at their faces, feeling Moonquill puff with pride, “Meet Moonquill, she’s a new friend of mine…”

---

Since that day Rae and Moonquill had ridden the skies together, members of the new Cathar order of Gryff Knights. Rae didn’t fully understand it, but that day something the clergy had come to call a Soul Bond had formed between them, as it formed between all Gryff Knights and their mounts. Apparently, it wasn’t unique to Gryff Knights, and had been appearing between all sorts of beings.

Rae didn’t much care for all that, though, she just rode with Moonquill wherever they were needed, acting in perfect sync with one another, as if rider and mount were one. She reveled in that sensation, and she knew Moonquill did too, even if she’d never admit it.

Rae felt Moonquill poking at her through their bond and she snapped out of her reminiscing. Moonquill felt concerned.

“Don’t worry, Quill,” Rae said, patting Moonquill’s flank as they glided along, “Just thinking about the good times. Been nice having some for a change.”

The gryff seemed to understand, as she always did, and they flew on in contented silence, home beginning to show just on the horizon.

---

Rae hit the ground hard, feeling her ribs crack under the impact. As she struggled to regain her breath, she contemplated how idiotic it had been to engage an angel in the air. No matter how skilled the soul-pair, no knight in the order could hope to defeat an angel in single combat like that. Mad or not, an angel was still an angel.

Reaching out through their bond, Rae felt Moonquill. She breathed a sigh of relief, finding her friend alive and still gliding, if in some pain. She called Moonquill to her as she scanned the smoke-filled skies for the angel, trying not to let the complete wrongness of this situation get to her.

Before long she saw her mount emerge through the smoke billowing up from one of the rooves in the village. She felt calm, preparing to perform a low-flying mount as usual. Then, it all went terribly wrong.

Behind Moonquill the angel emerged from the smoke, her blade raised and wreathed in fire. Before Rae could call out, before she could tell Moonquill to get out of there, the blade came down.

Rae would never remember what she saw, only the pain that exploded across her link with Moonquill. It felt as if the flaming sword had been plunged into her neck and left there. Her vision went white, and then, as she realized what must have happened, red. She felt rage like she had never known. All at once the teachings of the church left her mind. There was no place now for mercy, tolerance, and compassion. How could this be the perfect exemplar of those things? How could this monster be what she had always aspired to be like? Every part of her body and soul cried for vengeance, for justice, and for the first time she couldn’t find any difference between them.

The next thing she would remember seeing was her own hands, acting without her thinking, rising to the heavens and igniting in flames. Rae could not tell if the fire was burning her, and she did not care. Acting on pure instinct, she hurled fire at the angel. The angel’s face, which had moments ago been full of glee and lethal intent, now twisted into a very un-angelic expression: fear.

The first wave burned holes in her wings, bringing her to ground. The next began to melt her armor, metal bubbling and leather crumbling to dust. The next found skin, and the angel screamed in pain. Rae didn’t care, she just kept throwing fire until long after the screaming stopped.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, looking at the pile of charred bones and slag metal where there had once been an angel, but eventually she fell to her knees. The flames on her hands spread up her arms and soon engulfed her entire body. Though the flames themselves did not hurt her, she could feel her tears on her cheeks turning to steam almost immediately as she shed them. She looked to the sky, which had begun to open with rain, and felt herself scream as the drops began to steam off of her burning aura.

Then, she felt something in her chest, as if yet more fire were trying to burst forth, and then began to feel her body fade away. Rae imagined she must be starting to burn up in her own flames, too numb to feel the pain anymore. That theory collapsed when, all of a sudden, her flames were snuffed, collapsing back into her hands and then going out, and the dark sky above her was replaced with harsh sunlight.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of clouds. The shock of that alone was almost enough to distract her from the pain she felt, both in her soul and her ribs. Rae has never seen a sky totally free of clouds, and she had never felt sunlight this harsh. She lowered her gaze and continued her descent into what must be madness as she saw a vast, flat landscape of sands and rocky ground stretching to the horizon. Nowhere like this existed in all the known world. Looking to either side, she saw what seemed to be a sort of road extending for miles in either direction, and, to her left, what appeared to be a band of travelers.

Rae pushed herself to her feet, which at this point was as difficult as lifting an entire building on her shoulders. Out of habit, she tried to call for Moonquill, only to collapse again when she felt the crushing emptiness where her friend’s presence should have been.

Seeming to see her fall, two figures ran forward from the band of travelers. They helped Rae to her feet, lifting her between them, and as Rae offered thanks she got her first real look at one of them. The man seemed to be human, but with skin darker than Rae had ever seen in her life. His clothes were more like robes than common garb, but not quite like any robes she’d ever seen either.

“Thank you,” Rae said for what was at least the fifth time, “But where am I? Who are you?”

“We are traders from Femeref,” said the man in an accent which was, much like everything else Rae had seen in the last few minutes, totally unrecognizable, “We’re on the road home across the desert. What happened to you?”

“I,” Rae started to reply but then caught on something the man had said, “Wait, Femeref? Desert? What are you talking about?”

The man Rae had been speaking to exchanged a look with the other man helping her back towards the wagons before saying “Miss, what do you mean? Femeref is our country, here on Jamuraa, this is the desert that it borders. How could you be here and not know this?”

Rae tried to answer but all that emerged from her mouth was a whimper of bewilderment before she finally gave in to the mounting exhaustion and confusion and felt her consciousness slip away…

#magic the gathering #mtg #fanwalker #rae

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babyboyoonie · 6 years

Note

hello 💖 thank you so much for writing my request for yoonseokook!! I have another request... Can you write babyboy!Yoongi for the boys, please? I think he will be so soft and fluffy... And BTS will probably so whipped bc he will be their precious babyboy and they will love him so much ❤

hi darling!! it was my pleasure ♥♥ n you’re right, Yoongi’s the fluffiest and the boys are WHIPPED for him ((;

hope you enjoy!!

So. Yoongi doing basically anything is a…it’s a thing. Jin doesn’t know when he started paying attention to the little one’s every move, but here he is, staring. Yoongi’s not even doing anything remotely interesting…? He’s…He’s cutting some vegetables for Jin, that’s it. But his lips are pouting in concentration, cat-like eyes fixed on the slow movements of his hands and probably unaware of the things happening around him.

That’s good, Jin thinks, heart immensely soft. At least Yoongi wouldn’t be creeped out by Jin’s attention and slight, slight obsession, let’s be honest. He’s not as forward as others members are, but that doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t here. Doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t melt at Yoongi’s adorableness. Yoongi just breathing and actually being the fucking cutest boy on earth.

He’s so caught up in his starring, the bottle of vinegar in his hands just kind of…kind of drops in the plate. Opening on the way, of course.

Jin stares at it in silent mourning. And finally, finally, Yoongi looks up.

He mutters a little “oh?” mouth parted prettily and narrow eyes wide open. It’s unlike his usual low voice. It’s an “oh?” of surprise, sweet as honey, a mix of concern and amusement. “Hyung,” the man says, grins with amusement dancing in his eyes as he walks hurriedly on Jin’s side. “hyung, are you okay?”

Jin presses his lips together, giving off a strained smile. Yoongi’s amused, and his eyes are twinkling like pretty stars, and Jin’s finding it hard to keep his cool. He just wants to…wants to hold the little one. Hug him, coo at him, whisper he’s the prettiest boy ever and that Seokjin wants to call him his. Wants to call him his, and be at ease, holding him forever. Free of the happy moods he doesn’t always want to portray, free to be just him and stare at Yoongi for hours to no end in pure silence. Jin wants. Instead, “I was just distracted,” he says, eyes finding Yoongi’s.

The younger boy hums. Dubious. It’s funny because Jin was actually distracted. By him, and his tendency to be adorable just by…by breathing. “Fine,” Yoongi relents, though he pokes Jin gently on his arm, gaze soft like heaven. “If you want to talk, though, I’m here.”

He’s darling, a complete darling. Jin wants to lift him and cuddle him close to his chest and, and rock him like a little baby and sing about how adorable he is.

Yoongi’s too cute by barely doing anything, and Jin’s gonna get gray hair before he even hits thirty.

So. Clothes. Hoseok hadn’t expected for it to be their thing but life was surprising like that. Helping Yoongi dancing? Learning new choreographies? Talking producing or going out to eat ice-cream? Yeah, that would be more like it. But no, clothes. A day spent inside, locked in a room to do nothing all day together and—and yeah, clothes.

Hoseok thought, after a while, that it would be fun. Actually, everything with Yoongi was fun, period. They could just—they could lay there and do nothing for hours and Hoseok would surely have a blast anyway. Yoongi was poker-face exploding in a second in the prettiest expression, eyes crinkling and wide smile and literal stars around him. Yoongi was all about doing the silliest things when nobody expected and coming out of it cuter than ever. Which shouldn’t have been possible. But here they were.

Here Hoseok was, sitting on the edges of the bed with his feet firmly planted down. Perhaps to keep himself grounded, to stop the urgent need to get to Yoongi and cuddle the hell out of him. This need was growing larger by the second, Hoseok’s throat was constructed with the urge to babble about—about how cute Yoongi was. To tell him, just like last time, that he looked like a flower. Tell him pretty things until he looked away in evident shyness, a little smile on his lips to try and pretend he wasn’t flustered.

Yoongi pokes his head out of the closet. Then his whole body, and he makes a show of twirling for Hoseok—because it’s just the two of them, and he’s at ease doing those kinds of things in front of Hoseok. When nobody’s looking but his soul partner, when there’s no camera to picture another of his soft moments. Yoongi makes a show of twirling and sweetly chuckling, and Hoseok, oh Hoseok hides his lower face in his hand because he’s most probably blushing like hell.

There’s something like a lullaby in Yoongi’s eyes, in his voice when he mutters, teasing and cheery, “Hoseokie, hey, Seok-Seok, do you like it?” perhaps it has something to do with the wide, brilliant grin on his lips or, or the gentle flush on his cheeks and the way those cute pins gently push his air backward, in the prettiest picture.

He doesn’t know what it is—liar, liar, you know, it’s just Yoongi being Yoongi—but it, it releases the knots in his throat and makes him grip his own thighs. As to not grab Yoongi and never let him go for days. They’re sweaty, and he wipes them against the dark material of his jeans, chuckling breathlessly. “Yeah,” he says, eyes racking up and down the too-big outfit on Yoongi. It was his, the one he wore some days ago to the airport as they flew to Japan. The one Yoongi has told him made him look like a university teacher in one of those epic movies. He’s all dressed up, and it’s too big, just like the beautiful grin he throws at Hoseok at his answer. “Yeah, hyung, you’re, you’re the prettiest.”

Yoongi flushes. Oh so prettily, and Hosoeks gone gone gone.

So. Yoongi’s cute. Like, this isn’t rocket science or anything new but—but Namjoon’s still surprised every day. His hyung’s really cute, as in little gifts spread here and there he denies with a pout having given. Cute, as in encouragements always ready for anyone that needs them. Cute in a fluffy, cloud-like amazement when they start a new activity. It’s a quiet process most of the time—slowly blinking eyes that widen, mouth shaped in a pretty ‘o’ easing in a smile before he settles down. It’s rarely exploding fireworks and childish amazement, it’s him, and it’s soft, still baby-like in the best way possible.

Namjoon rocks on his feet and watches him quietly. Listens to everything around them with an ear, attentive, always, but attention wholly turned toward his hyung even if it doesn’t really look like it. Namjoon’s looking out for him silently, discreet, but Yoongi catches him anyway. Smiles cheekily at him, eyes glinting in something Namjoon reads like—“yah, we’ve basically been married for eight years now, you really thought you could fool me?” And, and okay, it might be a bit creepy to guess that with just a glance but—Namjoon just knows Yoongi like that.

Knows he’s the babiest of them all, under the coat of the grandpa he was given the nickname of in the beginning. Namjoon draws a mood board in his head, for him. He pictures a frame of his little hyung laying in the sun, soaking it like a blooming flower. Places just aside, then, a bunch of roses and marguerites and pretty bluebells. Adds in lovely tunes on the sky; a peculiar way of eating, little attentions that never get unappreciated, and finally, a bouquet of surprising actions just—silly and utterly adorable.

Yoongi decides to act upon the last image, it seems. As if he had read his mind. He waddled toward him, little smile a tad bit mischievous, very much boyish and more than loveable. He places his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders, and kind of just jumps, and Namjoon of course—Namjoon catches him. Namjoon catches him and laughs and relishes in the butterflies exploding in his stomach at the adorable display of affection.

His little hyung clings to him all day like a koala, and Namjoon’s heart sings baby, baby, baby.

They create poetry. Taehyung and Yoongi. Feet dangling in the air just in front of the beach, safe and sound in the shade protecting them of the harsh sun. They create poetry. The thing is, Taehyung can’t wait to get started on the poem he wants to write about Yoongi. They had thought—had thought of just hanging out, side by side, tease each other in their mother dialect and reminiscing about the place they were from. That had been that, and then it became about literature, and poems and they started reading—ended up writing.

The thing is, Taehyung wants to write about Yoongi. Wants to write about how utterly soft he is under the way he appears sometimes. Wants to write and sing and scream about his smooth edges and his big heart. The heart he wears on his sleeve, tries to hide because he’s just that fragile and—and could be broken if someone wasn’t careful enough. His hyung was all tough and dry sarcasm, but he was more than that, so much more.

He’s…he’s small. Really fucking small, and should be held with caution. It’s fine to tease him, he likes it, teases back. But not too much, because he’s sensible, sensible and fragile and terribly good at hiding his weaknesses. It’s scary because his little hyung has been hurt before—has been hurt countless of times, and they barely saw anything, had barely been able to help him. He’s really small, tiny, and everything he shows—it’s real, but there’s more he’s hiding, more of the things that make him seem like he was made of glass, the childishness he only showed from time to time.

Yoongi falls on his side, and Taehyung immediately tucks him under his arm. Cooes, inaudible and in awe, at how tiny his hyung looked under him, how utterly soft—how sweet. His strong, tough hyung folded like a kitten in his side and nearly purring in delight.

Taehyung’s—Taehyung’s gonna write about him, Taehyung’s going to breathe flowers and compliments on his darling little hyung; whisper odes to his heavenly being.

Yoongi sleeps like an angel. It’s…It’s a fact. People look—they look normal while they sleep, okay. Neutral or peaceful or, or just, you know, the sleeping face. Jimin fumbles with his thoughts, bites his lower lip and inches a bit closer to his hyung. He’s really—he really looks an angel. Utter peace crowns his expression, from the delicate tilt of his nose to the butterfly-like movement of his eyelashes and the rosy bow of his lips. He’s gorgeous, angelic, a delicate set of everything that is pretty and more than tempting. Jimin’s always at war. Tugged between the desire to express just how cute his hyung is, alongside with the need to—to tease the hell out of him until he mutters—

“Yah, Park Jimin—”

In the most drowsy, delectable way. Yoongi’s voice is laced with heavy sleepiness, his words slurred, and the tone of his voice adorably low. He hadn’t cursed at him today. Which was sad, Yoongi cursing at him wasn’t offensive at all—just another expression of how, of…of how darling he was.

Still, still. Jimin’s satisfied. Can’t stop himself from cooing and reaching over to poke at Yoongi’s puffy cheeks. They redden slowly, as Yoongi blinks, furrows his eyebrows and tries weakly to get away. It doesn’t work. His fingers kind of, just, clenches the sheet underneath him as he curls up a little bit more inward himself. Body a little cotton, with the way his legs are folded, as if he wanted to make himself as small as possible.

Such a cute, delightful baby.

Jimin reaches out again. This time, lets his hand glide on his hyung’s neck, caressing the soft skin, ripping kittenish noises from the little one who bats at his hands in displeasure. It’s—it’s really fucking adorable, and Jimin could never have enough. Naps with the older man as much as possible to wake up to this face. Puffed up and angelic and soft soft soft.

He rocks Yoongi back to sleep with little “baby hyung,” muttered in his ear, and Yoongi whines, but he ends up falling asleep again shortly after.

Jimin melts into a puddle of never-ending adoration.

Jungkook isn’t sure if anyone else noticed it. He entertains the thought and realizes that—that no, they couldn’t. Because Yoongi-hyung’s pretty discreet about it, because it’s mostly said so softly they don’t think about it twice, don’t look further on it. Jungkook thinks…Jungkook thinks Yoongi has some sort of, of praise kink. It makes his cheeks redden immediately, renders him impossible to look at his little hyung in the eyes before he calmed down, but he’s sure on it. Had started thinking about it at the fan-sign in Japan. When—when in the middle of nowhere, Namjoon-hyung had complimented Yoongi-hyung’s eyes. And, and his reaction had been adorable? Adorable and…and he had asked again, soft, “are they shining?” as if he wanted Namjoon to repeat it, to assure him that yes, yes, his eyes were pretty.

He thinks about it then, and can’t stop looking further into the matter. Can’t stop remembering all those times, of his hyung making sure that they were really complimenting him. Asking for attention, sometimes boldly, sometimes in those cute little gestures of his.

In the way he’d whine quietly, hands waving in the air and tapping softly whatever surface under him to call their attention. He didn’t shout. Couldn’t. Never raised his voice, ever. He was all about little noises and whines and a low voice asking for attention and pouting when he wasn’t receiving it.

Sometimes people asked Yoongi to act cute, and Jungkook was baffled because his hyung was already the cutest.

When they finish their piano lesson, Jungkook says—“hyung, hyung you’re so talented, thank you for teaching me. You’re so good,” and Yoongi, oh, his charming little hyung looks away. Bashful, pretty pale cheeks taking the pink color of the roses at dawn.

“Do you,” Yoongi mutters, plays with his hands before stilling and flushing harder. “do you really think so?”

Jungkook doesn’t have half the self-control of his hyungs. Leans close to the little man, and presses their lips together in a sweet kiss. It leaves Yoongi brighter than ever, eyelashes fluttering, and so goddamn cute. “yeah. You’re a good boy, hyung,”

The stars in Yoongi’s eyes shine just as brightly as the little specks of beauty in his delighted expression.

His hyung—his hyung’s a baby boy. The prettiest, sweetest of them all.

#Yoongi’s!! a baby!!#yoonie 💕#he really is guys dhsn #so soft and cute and )): baby )):#yoonjin 💓💫#Yoonseok ✨💖#Namgi 🌸🌹#Taegi 🌺💗#yoonmin 😭💗#Yoonkook 🤧❤️#I love my boys n I love my baby #yoongimagines

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foresthuntermajrach · 6 years

Note

I'd be happy to match you with someone! :D tell me more about yourself?

Omg, you want to OwO? Alright!

(So… damn… that wasn’t easy haha)

I rarelytalk about myself so much so idk what I should tell you but…

I’m an introvert, but I do enjoy spending time amongstpeople. I don’t like partying a lot and feel uncomfortable amongst crowds but Ilike meeting new pals and getting to know them (although I tend to get boredwith idle chit chat easily).

I'm rather quiet and spend most of the time in silence but if I get excited about something (or you ask me about something I love), I get super talkative and can drown you in my excitement (lol?)

Big thing, though. I’ve long ago learnt that I haveempathy problems so like… I’m the last person someone should seek to cry ontheir shoulder - and yet people still do that (that makes me feel bad bc Idon’t get them). And I do not pity people. No matter how shitty your lifeis, I still believe you could be happy in some way. And I don’t really likepeople who drown in self pity.

Alas!

My dad once said that our subconsciousness is ourbiggest weapon, so I started thinking positively and strangely enough it becameso natural to me that now I’m pretty much an impersonation of optimism. Nomatter what happens to me, I believe that earlier or later things will getbetter, I don’t hold grudges, even if I may not like someone; and I tend to actvery nice towards people I dislike (and who dislike me back) just to spite themand at the same time feel good with myself.

I’m an egoist but I help people if they ask me nicely.Cue me being the one that solves physics problems then drops them in the groupchat and explain them bc I get it.

I’m against cheating and believe that the hard way ismuch better for your own benefit unless the thing you have to decide uponcheating or not is absolutely useless for you. The latter never happened.Honestly, i’ve only cheated once on a words test on German classes because Icouldn’t cram those for the love of God and I was endangered with not passingthe subject at all. I’ve found a way to avoid doing it afterwards tho.

I guess I do go by some rules, but those are made bymyself and not forced on me, so I may be seen doing stupid unallowed stuff atuni with my friends. Who cares, anyway lmao.

I tend to be mean. To both, my close ones and topeople I barely know. Mostly playfully mean, because I just like to check ifthis or that person gets offended easily (I know, a dangerous game, but it’sfun af).

Apart from this…

I like togain and then show my knowledge about different things. I like to talk aboutthings I do know about and getfrustrated when someone suddenly changes the topic to something I know shitabout only bc they felt like it (I mean here celebrities, manicure, make-up, topicslike those make my skin crawl pls don’t). I really like listening to someone ifthey are passionate about the thing they are talking about, as long as they arenot repeating themselves for the umpteenth time. People are friggininteresting.

My passions(apart from the obvious drawing and writing) are observation, science andnature. I honestly love being outside. I love mountain trekking, swimming (espin the sea), taking walks in theforests, camping and stuff like those. The night sky is like my one true loveand in summer I tend to just lay and look at the sky and tear up at how fuckingawesome light is to be able to go so quick and show us galaxies that probablydon’t exist anymore and omg I would die to fly to space, ok.

I’ve alwaysdreamed of being an astronaut but there was no way of pursuing this dream so nowI’m searching for something else that I would like. So far I don’t know if I’mmaking the right choices.

I also liketo read books, albeit now I do that less and rather watch documentaries (mostlyabout cosmos and physics - I gotta admit that lol).

I also prefer to rest in silence, uninterrupted, either alone or with someone who will not keep on babbling all the time we spend together.

Hmm… whatelse…

I dislikechildren (mostly when they’re noisy and pushy - they exhaust me and I hatenoise omg) and dogs (same reason), am clueless in love, rather afraid of men80% of the times, even tho I get on best with them and not girls; I may or maynot me demisexual (am lmao) and idk about what sex I’d romance but so far I’veonly had minor crushes on men.

I’m cuddlywhen I’m close with someone. Like… I tend to lay on my mom’s lap a lot or onmy dad, or i rest my head on my friend’s shoulder while we sit close to eachother. And honestly I would 10/10 snuggle all day if I could. When it’s someoneI barely know I’m usually very uncomfortable with even things as simple as apat on the arm. I’m not sure what it came from but it’s just there.

I’m ratherafraid of love btw and even though I know boys look at me because I am pretty in a way (if I didn’t knowthat myself, then people keeping telling me that would make it) but because ofmy outer confidence and smarts and just the way I am no one ever approaches me.No one apart from the so called “momma’s boys” who are looking for someonewho will take care of them and honestly? I don’t feel a pull towards suchpeople. I’m secretly dreaming of finding my one true love amongst all thepeople I would manage to get it going with but at the same time I’m so veryinsecure about the matter that one would say I do not think I’ll be ever worththe try? Idk people can make you think many things about yourself and so farthe only likable thing about me the boys noted is that I have a pretty face andnice body (which I like too but… what about how I am lmao). I tend to thinkthat this may be not for me and I’ll just end up alone and doing research forsomething I’ll feel passionate about.

God, I’msorry, somehow it turned depressing at the end even tho I didn’t intend towrite those things. But I won’t delete it cause this can also give informationon me.

#I'm sorry I hope this is what you wanted to know #rip me I don't talk about myself like that often k #even tho i sometimes wish I did so thanks for the opportunity lol #shea-gardienne #about mun #ask

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wannawrite · 7 years

Text

Dance Boy? Flower Boy?

Wanna One’s Park Woojin X Reader [ fem ver ] FLUFF I THINK Word count: 3786 • Woojin isn’t exactly happy on his second day of his summer job • he really would rather be at his dance studio practicing but no, he got ropes into this ridiculous job • maybe you will finally put a smile on this flower boy’s face :) omf okay anon you’re changing the game here by requesting flower boy woojin oh god i can’t picture it but at the same time i can but tysm anon, this scenario was fun to write and i lowkey can’t wait to expand my flower boy series hAHAHAH should it be? let me know ;) - admin L __________

Woojin glared at Daehwi, partially unamused and partially two seconds away from breaking Daehwi’s neck. He tossed the pastel coloured flyer back at the younger boy and scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Park Woojin rarely showed his temper, especially to Lee Daehwi, of all people. Hell! He had grown up with his boy and they were pretty much brothers! He hardly ever was angered by anything Daehwi had done. Woojin was shy, awkward and sometimes petty more than anything, so him flaring up over this was a huge thing. Maybe his anger rose because, as much as it hurt his pride and image, he was also disappointing Daehwi.

“Daehwi, you know I’d do anything for you, but I can’t do this,” Woojin said calmly despite his clearly angered exterior. He shut his eyes, sucking in a deep breath to tamper his outburst. Daehwi smiled sadly, folding back the flyer and tucking it back into his bag. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to look nonchalant as he said, “I-I guess it’s okay, hyung. I…I just wanted to do something interesting together this summer! B-but, I understand.” Even though he was visibly upset at Woojin’s upright rejection, he still hugged his hyung. “I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t worry about it!” Daehwi skipped out of Brand New High School’s dance studio. He didn’t dance on the school team but he did attend classes almost every day at another studio, that’s how he got close to Woojin. Woojin ran a hand through his bird nest like hair, letting out a sigh. He began to pack up his duffle bag but Daehwi’s offer resonated in his head. Lee Daehwi, the president of English Language Drama and Debate Society, his best friend, had asked if he wanted to join him in working at the newly opened flower boy cafe for the summer. He was completely convinced that Woojin was the perfect candidate and that he would be hired. Half the male population in this damn school is applying. What makes him think I’ll get it? True, Woojin was looking for a summer job. It wasn’t like he desperately needed one but he figured he should slog a little to earn money instead of idling at home all day. But when he thought of a job, he didn’t exactly consider working at a flower boy cafe or even a coffee shop for that matter. He knew he could be shy and awkward, sometimes coming across as cold or menacing. It wasn’t a typical personality type for any job that required face-to-face human interaction. Things could escalate…pretty fast. Ugh! I’m thinking too much about this. I need to start leaving before I miss the last bus home. Woojin stuffed his water bottle into his bag, hastily changed his shirt and grabbed his bag. He locked the studio and left. It had become a regular routine for him. Staying back well after school, practicing hard for hours - on occasion, his good friends in college and Senior year like Youngmin or Donghyun would drop by and sometimes Daehwi kept him company - before being the last to leave the studio and locking up. The dance studio was like his home and he planned to spend every second of the summer dancing at Fantagio Dance Studio should he not find a job. Along with Daehwi, Youngmin and Donghyun, Ong Seongwoo, also danced there. He was a close friend during middle school but he enrolled into a different high school. He was now in the same college as Youngmin. Perhaps hyung will have an answer…..I should ask him. He always has an answer to everything. I really hate to upset Daehwi, and he knows that. Hyung will know what to do.

“Wow! That was great! Woojin, you worked hard. I can tell you have improved,” Seongwoo commented, beaming and he dabbed a clean towel to his face. He smacked Woojin on the shoulder, nodding in approval. It was their weekly dance session. Originally, they would be taught and observed by a sunbae but Seongwoo recently started choreographing and teaching his own dance classes so he booked the studio to evaluate Woojin. He always joked that Woojin would soon be joining him on the board of choreographers and teachers. ( um he alrdy is tho ?? what am i doing with my life ) “T-thanks, hyung,” Woojin stammered, cheeks flushing pink and not solely because he had just finished an intense choreography. After he had caught his breath, he posed the question to Seongwoo. “Hyung, Lee Daehwi invited me to… work at the new flower boy cafe for the summer. Do you think I should?” Seongwoo nearly spit out his water, his large eyes went wide, mimicking a manga character. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Well, funny you should mention that. Park Jihoon asked me the same thing and, u-uh…I applied for the job?” His tone went up an octave so it came out like a question. Seongwoo laughed and bashfully scratched the back of his neck. “Yah! Just because of this doesn’t mean I’m not your favourite hyung anymore. Besides, I think it will be a good change of scenery. Sure, I’m earning a bit through teaching but I suppose I need to try something new before I get too old,” he reasoned. “Woojin-ah, it’ll be fun. Come join us. I think it’s called Our Two Lips. Like tulips but….yeah. I’m not the biggest fan of it either.” “Do you think I should apply too? Would I even qualify?” Woojin pressed, he really needed answers urgently! He began bouncing on his toes. “It’s really up to you but I think it will be a good idea. Daehwi is sure to get in so I think we should all try to hop on board his flower boy train. But it depends on you, Woojin. What do you want?” Seongwoo chuckled in reply. “You’ll make the right decision. It’s up to you.” He ruffled his dongsaeng’s hair affectionately. And that’s how Park Woojin found himself at 11.56pm applying for the job as a flower boy at Our Two Lips, four minutes ( sobs bc 4Minute ) before applications closed. He wasn’t sure if he made the right decision or not.

You were waiting at the traffic junction to cross the road, the illuminated red man glaring back at you. It was a pleasant summer day, the sky was Atlantic blue and white fluffy clouds dotted it, reminding you of cotton candy. You were on your way to meet a couple of your friends after dancing, they wanted to try out the food at Our Two Lips - the new flower boy cafe - and at first you opposed the idea but couldn’t pass up free food. There was no doubt your friends had dressed to the nines. Of course, you had changed into a more comfortable set of a trendy shirt and shorts but your dance bag was still slung around your body, you hoped it wasn’t a fashion disaster. Even though you weren’t as interested in Our Two Lips as your friends, you were curious to discover the truth about rumours of Park Woojin, a sunbae at Fantagio Dance Studio and your crush, working there. You had been introduced to Woojin by Seongwoo, he conducted a class with just the two of you and occasionally, you’d see Woojin around the studio. He often went home late, just like you. Though the two of you were rather good pals, you figured that was all Woojin wanted the two of you to be. Woojin was made out of the most perfect boyfriend material. He was diffident yet outgoing and a ball of energy. A true sunshine in its purest form. He was a gentleman, always holding the studio doors open but slamming them on Jihoon. You found their friendship hilarious. And like him, you adored practicing late by yourself in the studio, if he could, he would offer to walk you back home and at times, buy you a smoothie on the journey. Woojin mentioned his hyung worked there so he constantly got discounts. Still, you felt bad whenever he ignored your credit card and paid, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside though. Seongwoo swore that the two of you would end up together by Christmas but you weren’t sure. If Woojin is more comfortable being friends then so be it. We don’t even attend the same schools, he could have found someone else. Just the mere thought of it caused your heart to crack. It was painful to imagine Woojin with someone else. It was selfish of you, you knew that but you couldn’t help the feelings bubbling inside of you. However, you knew where to draw the line. If Woojin really had somebody, you would back off. You weren’t going to risk losing a friend because of something like that. Anyway, you made it safely to Our Two Lips and joined your friends in the booth they were seated in. True enough, all of them had dressed up very well. “Oh my god! Y/N! I’m going to die! Bae Jinyoung from C9 International Academy is working here!” Your best friend, Lucy, yelled into your ear. Her face was practically comparable to her strawberry smoothie. Bomin whispered something about Sungwoon looking absolutely delicious in his flower crown and peach coloured button down. You kept your eyes peeled for Woojin, trying to spot even the slightest signs of his presence. Unfortunately or fortunately, Bae Jinyoung was managing your table. You weren’t sure if your heart was able to handle all that Woojin brought to the table. Chaesol giggled when she saw your antics. “Yah, Y/N. We get it, you’re worried about your man. Bomin saw him a few minutes ago. Those rumours were definitely true.” Lucy ‘oohed’, smiling knowingly. Everyone knew about your crush on Woojin, it was embarrassing yet you wanted the whole world to know. Just not Woojin. Anyone but him. You were halfway through your red velvet cupcake when Chaesol firmly nudged you in the ribs using her elbow. She nodded her head to her right. Finally, Park Woojin appeared.

What did I get myself into? What have I done to deserve this? I did nothing wrong. Woojin’s head was usually filled with jumbled up and meaningless thoughts but he was dead set on this one. He officially wanted to quit this job on his second day. Why? All the customers at tables he served had asked him to do something sweet or cute which he became incredibly flustered at first but after the fifth time, he sort of numbed off and forced a smile on his face. It wasn’t who he really was. But he put on a mask and continued to work because he deserved his cheque after putting so much effort into his aegyo. Every few minutes, his flower crown would loosen and he would be forced to tie it back while running from table to table. It was just too demanding but at the same time, it was what he kind of signed up for. I should be dancing, he thought. Maybe I’ll get to see Y/N at the studio instead of these people. No offence but I think that girl is a Freshman in Brand New High School and runs that creepy ‘hottest students’ blog. He shuddered at the thought of it. I bet that dude next to her takes all the pictures. Weren’t they suspended? He was distracted and distraught. This really wasn’t his scene. In fact, he had been resting in the break room, needing fresh air, until Seongwoo shouted that Y/N had entered. Immediately, he was alert and felt energised. He nearly did a double take when he saw you seated in the booth, surrounded by your friends. You were laughing at a joke that Bomin made and Woojin thought your laugh was absolute music to his ears. Your smile lit up his own. He went about attending to the tables a bit more enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Seongwoo was busy telling all the flower boys about Woojin’s insane crush on you. Daehwi and Jihoon just stood in the corner sipping tea. Woojin wasn’t around your table for the most part but one by one, your friends started to leave and you decided to sit and wait for him. He was rather perplexed you were sitting alone and since his shift was over soon, he tore off his apron and walked over to you. “Hi.” Woojin’s warm honey voice sent calming shivers down your spine. “Oh! Hi, Woojin. Y-you didn’t mention you would be working here,” you mused, batting your eyelashes. Woojin looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s not something I want everyone to know of though,” he admitted, groaning slightly. “It really doesn’t suit me.” You giggled and leaned closer to fix his flower crown properly. His heart nearly stopped functioning. What is a normal heart rate? What is breathing properly? “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get better at your job. It’ll be fun, especially with all your friends around you. Just promise me I’ll see you soon at the studio,” you said, offering your pinky out for him to clasp. He gladly did, beaming and showing off his charming snaggletooth. “Of course, I’ll always be back home.“

This occurrence happened quite frequently. ‘This’ meaning you, visiting Woojin at his job at Our Two Lips after your dance session, some visits alone and other times with a bunch of your friends. They couldn’t shut up about how many times you had been to the stupid cafe you swore off. Daehwi, Seongwoo and Jihoon teased you constantly, especially when they bumped into you at the studio. They went on and on about how Woojin had seemingly become more lively whenever you were around him. It was cute. Woojin couldn’t be the one serving your table all the time and he looked apologetic. Maybe even a little ticked off when he saw how well you were getting along with Baejin. He resembled a sad puppy, shuffling away. ( i love dogs ) However, Baejin and Sungwoon were out of sight today and he finally managed to wait on you. “Hello! I’m Woojin. What can I get for you today?” He greeted, smiling to show off his pearly whites. Today, Woojin had spent extra time clipping in faux flower petals in his hair instead of his flower crown. He wanted to try something new and different. You, for one, thought they were really pretty and unique. “I like your hair today, it’s very pretty,” you complimented, waiting for a blushing, bashful Woojin to appear. His cheeks did flush a bright pink but instead of completely melting down, he came back with a heart fluttering response. “Thank you, but nothing compares to your beauty,” he replied suavely, clasping your hand and bringing it to his lips. If you could, you would have chemically combusted right in your seat. You cleared your throat but your current heart rate wasn’t exactly cleared off the 'seizure’ line. “Ahh, look at you. Your confidence is soaring. What happened to the old Woojin?” ( o, the old woojin can’t talk right now. why? he’s dead ) Woojin fiddled with his pen and notebook, a key sign that he was getting really…shy. Or impatient. There was no in between. You quickly placed your order and he shuffled back to the kitchen, self-consciously patting his clips. Oh my god, Y/N just complimented me! I should go and check to see if my clips are in place. “Yo, Sungwoon hyung, cover for me for a second.” He raced to the break room and broke open his backpack, rushing to touch up his makeup and neaten his appearance. Woojin took a deep breath before stepping out again, refraining from clutching his heart. “Are you going to confess?” Sungwoon asked, smirking. “I think you should. Y/N has been waiting for you ever since you started. She’s a keeper. Not to mention she always has supported you in your dance.” A million thoughts ran through Woojin’s mind. Suddenly, a lightbulb ignited in his head. “Sungwoon hyung,” he started, voice dripping with honey. “Could you…help me with something?” Sungwoon grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “You can count on me.”

You were mildly surprised and amused when Woojin literally hopped towards your table. Hopped. Okayyy, this so isn’t like the Woojin I know but this is pretty funny. Woojin set your smoothie on the table. He bounced in his place and made rabbit ears. “Y/N, has bunny Woojin hopped into your heart?” ( woOJIN SWEETIE I AM SO SORRY ) He bobbed closer, fished out a flower from his back pocket and proceeded to offer it to you. It’s like they had high-quality flowers lying around all the time. Who’s paying for these? You wondered but gratefully accepted the stalk, thanking him. Still, he didn’t leave. “Y/N, did you know that bunnies hunt? I think I’m on the hunt for your love,” he professed dramatically. This is Seongwoo….This is not Woojin. Seongwoo has possessed him. You burst out laughing and forced yourself not to cringe. “Ugh! Who taught you these?” Woojin pouted. “Yah! I thought of these. It was so hard! Am I not cute?” He whined but his voice started to waver. You smiled and patted his shoulder. “You’re like the Easter bunny, sweet but hollow on the inside. Woojin is cute but, but not as much when you’re like this. I’m not saying I totally hate it though. The first one was good,” you confessed, hoping he wasn’t hurt. “Thanks for the flower anyways. It’s almost as gorgeous as you.” He nodded sheepishly and backed away when Jinyoung called for him. You sighed and rubbed your temples. No wonder he hates his job, but his aegyo isn’t terrible. I bet Daehwi has been teaching him a few tricks. Should I save him as flower boy on my phone now?

“Hyung, full offence but your idea was terrible,” Woojin blurted out flatly, face hot. “She hated it!” Seongwoo raised a perfectly plucked brow. “I only suggested it. It’s on you that you went with my suggestion,” he retorted, pointing out the obvious and smiled smugly when Woojin had no reply. “Woah! Calm down, there’s still a ton of other things you could do! Don’t give up yet, hyung,” Daehwi encouraged. He shoved a bunch of things that Woojin was unfamiliar with into his arms. “Wha-what?” “Just go!” Woojin stared at the strange items. He had no clue what to do with those. Is this a pink bow hairband? And silly string? What does Daehwi even carry to work? He was confused and slumped in defeat. I’ll just need to accept the fact that Y/N is the sunshine in my life. She gives me warmth and makes me happy but she’s too distant and hot to touch. Sungwoon found him sulking in the break room - there weren’t many people at this hour - and joined him. He rubbed his back affectionately. “Yah, why are you like this? Don’t be demoralised.” Woojin squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head on the headrest of the sofa. “I don’t know. Nothing’s working out for me. What am I going to do?” “Well, I know you appreciate all the ideas and help we’re giving but maybe….maybe you need to strip that off. Just go to her like the Woojin she knows and loves. You have to be yourself,” Sungwoon advised. He hoped that his hypothesis would work. “B-but how? How can I do that? I’m so awkward and shy. I’m not good at aegyo or anything of that sort,” Woojin groaned. He looked like he wanted to pull his hair out. Sungwoon hummed. “I’m sure you will figure it out. I can help you with one component. Just tell me what Y/N’s favourite dessert is.” That was a no-brainer for Woojin, he knew the answer immediately. Sungwoon nodded as he stood up. “Got it. I think you know what to do too."

You were tucked in your chair, head buried in your novel you needed to study for literature over the summer. The cafe was quiet and cozy, just the way you wanted it to be. An envelope fell on your table, but whoever delivered it walked away before you could see who it was. Puzzled, you peeled it open. Dear Y/N, hello. it’s me. park woojin. I wanted to thank you for being an amazing friend, always staying by me when I’m dancing late at the studio and now, even visiting me at work and supporting me. It’s crazy how far you’re willing to go for your friends. I suppose you deserve to know a few things. If not, it’d be unfair to both of us. I just want to say that I like you. Like, I genuinely like you. As more than a friend. I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same way but I want us to still be friends. If you do feel the same way, put the letter down and look on your table. With your heart about to thud out of your chest and butterflies erupting in your stomach, you complied and set the letter on the table. You gasped at what was placed on it. It was your favourite dessert that Woojin always bought for you when you walked past that cafe. It wasn’t even on the menu here. You could feel tears brimming your eyes, you were touched beyond belief. Next to the dessert, a cursive 'be mine?’ was written in chocolate sauce. You clasped your hands over your mouth. It’s happening! It’s really happening! Woojin settled in the seat in front of you, his gaze locked with your own. "So,” he started, confidence surprisingly coming off strongly in his tone “I guess you now know. Y/N, will you date me?” “YES!” you squeaked, earning a few curious stares. You pretty much threw yourself on him, crushing him in a bear hug. Woojin only laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Who knew you were such a big romantic?” You teased but your voice was muffled by his chest. “Who knew you would fall for a hopeless romantic?” Woojin retorted, raising his eyebrows. “Are you serious? You like me?” In reply, you pecked him on the cheek and nodded. “Yes. For like a long time now.” “I hope you’re my girlfriend for a long time.” Discreetly, in the kitchen, upon hearing the excited shrieks, Sungwoon reached over and high-fived Jisung. “We make a good team, bro.” “Bro, your hands are so nice.” “Bro….” ( HwAT IS THIS ENDING BUT 2SUNG IS SO CUTE )

#admin L #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 #produce 101 scenarios #park woojin #park jihoon #hwang minhyun #kang daniel #ong seongwoo #lai guanlin #ha sungwoon #yoon jisung #bae jinyoung #lee daehwi #kim jaehwan

251 notes · View notes

urscottsdale · 6 years

Note

1-100 😌

1:when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? i rarely eat cereal but i think i usually balance them pretty equally or try to lol

2:do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? i love it as long as im all bundled up

3:what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? usually the closest piece of paper i can find

4:how do you take your coffee/tea? with lots of sugar 😏

5:are you self-conscious of your smile? very

6:do you keep plants? nope

7:do you name your plants? nada

8:what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? writing and music

9:do you like singing/humming to yourself? sometimes

10:do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? all of the above

11:what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? no friends, no jokes other than maybe im the quiet one

12:what’s your favorite planet? pluto

13:what’s something that made you smile today? my dog

14:if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? my room: messy, theirs: clean

15:go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! uranus is tilted on its side 😉

16:what’s your favorite pasta dish? spaghetti

17:what color do you really want to dye your hair? blue

18:tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. idk tbh

19:do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i dont

20:what’s your favorite eye color? brown eyes 😍

21:talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. who comes up with these questions? bc i dont have a favorite bag

22:are you a morning person? no i hate mornings

23:what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? listen to music

24:is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? theres a couple, one doesnt know it tho

25:what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? never broken into anywhere lol

26:what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? vanz

27:what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? mint

28:sunrise or sunset? sunset

29:what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? randomly checking up on me and actually meaning it when they say they care

30:think of it: have you ever been truly scared? a handful of times yes

31:what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. love socks and wearing them, dont sleep in them and i have an assortment of colors bc white is boring

32:tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. there was this time i went out drinking with my friend after graduation, these two guys were hitting on her after she called them gay (even bought us drinks), my friend is gay so that was interesting lol

33:what’s your fave pastry? doughnuts

34:tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? winnie the pooh and hell yes i still have it

35:do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? love them but never use them

36:which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? backstreet boys

37:do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like keeping it clean but it tends to stay messy lol

38:tell us about your pet peeves! i have too many pet peeves tbh

39:what color do you wear the most? blue and maroon (not together tho)

40:think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? cross necklace is self-explanatory, dog tag necklace i got from my parents so it holds a special meaning to me

41:what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? to kill a mockingbird

42:do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! starbucks…

43:who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? lol one of my friends back in like 5th grade

44:when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? summer and winter breaks in high school

45:do you trust your instincts a lot? yup

46:tell us the worst pun you can think of. sex while camping is fucking in tents ;)

47:what food do you think should be banned from the universe? most kinds of fish

48:what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? being alone, and yes actually

49:do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? yes but i cant remember tbh. most i have were gifted to me.

50:what’s an odd thing you collect? keys

51:think of a person. what song do you associate with them? @thisvanessa - count on me by bruno mars

52:what are your favorite memes of the year so far? im pretty sure ive never seen a meme i didnt love so. the spongebob one is pretty good tho.

53:have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i wish i could tell u

54:who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? my dog lol

55:what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? idk im pretty passive aggressive so i do a lot lol

56:what are some things you find endearing in people? same as earlier, randomly checking up on me and also saying they miss me

57:go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? nope

58:who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? my ex friend is the wine mom and idk maybe im the vodka aunt lol

59:what’s your favorite myth? the earth is flat

60:do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? yess langston hughes and edgar allan poe

61:what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? cant think of any tbh, maybe the dancing chicken that used to be passed around for years in my family

62:do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? orange juice and cran-grape juice

63:are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i just leave them be

64:what color is the sky where you are right now? gray

65:is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? yes

66:what would your ideal flower crown look like? idk not big on flower crowns

67:how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? i love them so much

68:what’s winter like where you live? hot with a random cold day here and there

69:what are your favorite board games? wahoo/marbles, sorry, candyland, pretty much all of them lol

70:have you ever used a ouija board? nope

71:what’s your favorite kind of tea? sweet tea

72:are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yes but im also too lazy to note things so i end up forgetting a lot

73:what are some of your worst habits? procrastination

74:describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. beautiful, bubbly, cute, always smiling even tho i know they r sad deep down

75:tell us about your pets! small, black fur ball full of energy

76:is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? so many things

77:pink or yellow lemonade? pink

78:are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? neither im a minion dc club

79:what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? idk told me i give them butterflies or get nervous when talking to me

80:what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? i think they r an off white an bc my apartment landlord wont let me change them lol

81:describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. dark pools of chocolate

82:are/were you good in school? i was alright could of been better if i wasnt so lazy

83:what’s some of your favorite album art? never thought about that maybe something justin bieber has done

84:are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i want to but im not sure tbh

85:do you read comics? what are your faves? nope

86:do you like concept albums? which ones? yes theres a lot

87:what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? high school musical

88:are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? yes

89:are you close to your parents? yes

90:talk about your one of you favorite cities. im pretty sure i could never get tired of nyc

91:where do you plan on traveling this year? i successfully did not travel anywhere this year, thank you bank account ur the best

92:are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? drown it in cheese

93:what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? short hair, short on the sides and longer on top

94:who was the last person you know to have a birthday? me

95:what are your plans for this weekend? lazy days

96:do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? procrastination is my middle name

97:myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INFP, scorpio and hufflepuff

98:when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? i dont think ive ever been hiking but i want to

99:list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. over and over again by tim mcgraw, make you miss me by sam hunt, remember when by alan jackson, unhinged by nick jonas, chainsaw by nick jonas, untitled by simple plan and welcome to my life by simple plan

100:if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? damn thats a really hard one. probably the future tbh.

#thisvanessa #answered

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easkyrah · 7 years

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So while I was delaying my hw by surfing through the web, I came across a quote that said, " 'Angels can fly,' she whispered, and then jumped." Can I challenge you into including this quote with Elain bc she's rarely mentioned? I'm really interested in seeing how your intricate, emotional, and haunting style and words incorporates this. Plus, I feel like this is kind of a hard prompt. But based on your works, I know you can handle it.

This short fic was written quite sloppily to K. Flay’s High Enough on repeat with Julia Michael’s Issues intervening once — perhaps playing the songs allow understanding in why I shaped the fic this way. The music greatly influenced the way this turned out from what I originally had in mind. I couldn’t quite find the edge I needed with this prompt, and recent events from reality pushed me towards this direction.

little bird, fly before they clip your wings for you have escaped the cage, where no man wants you to leave, forever chained

Angel

The air conditioner had broken this morning, causing damp currents of humid drafts to blast through the bakery. The loose strands escaping from her bun plastered to the nape of her neck, and Nesta had to occasionally wipe beads of sweat from her forehead.

Three more hours and she could retire for the day.

She tapped the customer’s order into the screen, ignoring the ache building up in her legs.

“That’ll be twenty dollars and twenty-six cents,” she droned, holding out her palm.

The older woman shuffled through her purse, and pulled out a wad of one-dollar bills. She frowned up to the Nesta, her forehead wrinkling. “Could you let the twenty-six cents go?” she tittered nervously. “I just have enough for twenty.”

Nesta’s face hardened. She was already on line with her boss, Ianthe. One more slip up, and she’d be fired.

Before she could turn away the elder and wave over the next customer, a tiny hand placed a handful of coins of the counter.

Elain Archeron blushed, nervously tugging a strand of golden-brand hair. “I’m pretty sure there’s about twenty-six cents there. Keep the change.”

Nesta watched the youngest Archeron dance off to her corner in the coffee shop, drawing up her knees to her chest, and staring out the window. Elain pressed her forehead against the window, tracing lines and shapes against the glass.

“What a nice little dearie, wouldn’t you agree?” the older woman crooned, and pushed the pile of coins to Nesta. “A lovely angel.”

Nesta internally snarled, snatching the bills and scooping the change. That was her money — precisely seventy five cents — that Elain had given back to her.

She dropped the extra forty nine cents in the tips box, watching her younger sister twirl out of the shop, twirling her bag around her elbow and tossing her water bottle in the air.

Cassian winced as he lumbered through the streets, rotating his sore shoulder. His wrestling partner had been merciless today, and it took Cassian an extra round to force his opponent to tap out.

If Nesta was in a good mood today, there was about a five percent chance she’d massage his tight muscles, usually ending with passionate kisses and fueled sessions locked in a bedroom.

He rubbed his bloodied knuckles, ignoring the dirty looks shot his way. A mother tucked her child under arms, muttering the word “savage” and “bastard” under her breath.

The breath winded out of him quicker than the punch his sparring partner had thrown to his abdomen. Society hadn’t been quite kind to him, watching him grow up in the sewers to become one of the elites.

A hand touched his wrist.

He glanced down to see the youngest Archeron sister. Elain pressed a water bottle into his hands and reached into her bag, fingering out a green towel.

Cassian gratefully took the towel, rubbing away the blood, and watching the stains weep into the fabric. The mother and child moved on, quickly shooting Elain confused glances.

Elain merely went on her tip-toes, slightly tilting her head. She grabbed Cassian’s hand and moved it so that the bottle poured a little bit of water onto the table.

“You should drink,” she lightly commented, wrapping the towel around his right knuckle.

“If only Nesta could be more like you,” Cassian sighed, and took a quicky chug of the bottle. “An angel.”

Elain stared into the distance, a little smile playing over her lips, as if she were seeing something he couldn’t. “But you like wildcats better.”

Cassian arched a brow and looked down at the youngest Archeron sister. “You’ve got that damned right.”

And he hurried away to the bakery, where the eldest Archeron sister awaited, casting one grateful smile over his sore shoulder to the youngest Archeron sister.

But she was already weaving through the crowd into the streets, her arms swaying to an unheard melody.

Lucien swore loudly as his blueprints scattered across the floor, black boots and thin flip-flop walking over them. Tamlin would have his head if he lost their company’s infrastructure plans for the new building.

He swooped down, gathering the papers into his arms as quickly as he could. Pedestrians briefly spared pitying glances at him, the malevolent few directly stepping onto the his plans, little smirks playing over their faces.

A passerby gently moved the crowd away, twirling in a circle around Lucien. The figure swooped down and gracefully plucked the blueprints farthest from him.

Lucien stared, enthralled by the beautiful golden-brown haired female. He gently took the blueprints from her outstretched hands, and smiled down at the doe-eyed beaut.

“Thank you,” he murmured, hefting the papers more securely in his grasp. “You’re my savior, my angel.”

She blushed prettily, gazing up at the sky. The sun cast down golden rays across her face, chasing away the shadows.

Lucien bowed at his waist, the ridiculous notion overcoming him. “May I know my rescuer’s name?”

She didn’t look at him again, much to dismay, but rather closed her eyes, her eyelashes fanning across her lids. “I am Elain Archeron,” she whispered, so softly he had to lean forward.

“Thank you, Elain Archeron.”

Her brown eyes opened, studying his red hair.

He awaited for those eyes to travel down his face and note the russet eye and scar running along his brow to jaw — to turn away in distaste, as all his former acquaintances refused to hire him for his appearances.

“A fox,” she lilted.

The corners of his lips tugged up. “Cunning and sly?”

“No,” her head slightly tilted to the side, a hummingbird’s movement. “Misunderstood.”

Lucien blinked, and watched the wondrous creature float through the crowd and past the street — into the trails of the green forest.

Azriel brooded silently, wondering why he knew bothered sticking around with his two brothers — Cassian and Rhys.

After his sparring session with Cassian, he’d taken the shortcut through the forest trails, only for Rhys to jump him and tie him to a tree. The match with Cassian fatigued his muscles beyond repair, the other brother the champion in hand-to-hand combat.

So it seemed he would remained tied to the trunk until he regained his strength and the pulsing headache faded.

Rhys had dragged him a little ways from the trail and in the shadows under the covers of a large, draping branch full of blooming leaves. Here, the darkness did wonders for the throbbing in his forehead, but did not alleviate the pain straining in his muscles.

Sighing, he leaned the back of his head against the tree, testing the ropes around him. The knot had been at the other side of the truck, so he’d have to somehow stretch the ropes out enough and slip underneath.

A gasp broke his concentration.

Azriel stared at the outline of a feminine figure swaying through the cluster of vines Rhys had dragged him through.

“You are ensnared,” the voice breathed.

Azriel watched the shadow move forward, revealing a phantom of a fading, suppressed woman, one struggling with inner demons — and seeing his own.

One who lived in the light but bathed alone in the darkness — one who had seen too much and saw too soon — one who listened to the insanity of humanity — one who danced along the lines of the beckoning darkness and toed the line of heavenly light —

— the ropes fell around his waist and ankles and wrists.

The woman emerged from behind the trunk, the thick rope unknotted.

Azriel bowed his head. “Thank you—?”

“Elain Archeron,” she mumbled. Her gaze flickered to him, asking the unspoken question.

“Azriel,” he easily returned, the cover of the darkness draping them both in silken robes.

Elain turned the rope over in her hands, running her fingers over each harsh strand.

“You strayed from the path,” he observed, watching.

She merely smiled sadly and tilted her head to the side. “And what does that make me?”

Azriel stared at the pale cheekbones and haunted eyes, one would mistake with fragility. Her unbound hair messily tangled over her shoulder, as if searching for order and reason. He supposed that this creature wearing the robes of shadow’s whispers already knew of the answer — but desired confirmation, a sound.

“An angel?” she whispered, voice edged with the scratch of softness.

Azriel rolled out his shoulders, and looked at the dangling vines behind her.

“No,” he murmured. “A fallen one.”

A quirk of an eyebrow. “Fallen?”

“Not for sins — but for seeing too much.”

A nod, and a breeze of sigh. Brown eyes connected with hazel orbs, locked into an eternity of silence and understanding.

A little light of warmth protruded through the umbrella of darkness, shattering a tacit completion.

Elain closed her eyes. Azriel blinked.

“Goodbye, Az,” the woman whispered, and then disappeared between the canopy of vines — past the fleeting sanctuary of the oppressed’s suppression.

Elain Archeron pushed past the forest and stood at the edge. There was a rushing river at the bottom, culminating at a chasm and waterfall. The sun broke across the sky, eating away at the clouds.

She looked down, and at the flourishing and teeming greenery at the end met with rushing, flowing water.

Freedom beckoned her.

Pure, undiluted liberty.

Welcome arms, greeting her.

The taste of honey filled her mouth, and she stared at the golden beams shooting down, creating life from Earth’s rich soil, most battered away and cut into slices for construction zones.

She stared at the flight and pattern of birds soaring in the air, the monster of vines fading rapidly from memory. She remembered the drums of footsteps, stepping over creations and the Earth. She knew of the misunderstood and the broken, and thought of that fractured body still full of love and hope. She knew the darkness and coldness seeping into bones.

She stared at the whispers of nature and of light and of darkness — ensnared by the gray area.

She took a step forward, toeing the edge of the cliff.

“Angels can fly,” she whispered—and jumped.

— and as the wind tore at her cheeks and the coldness bit at her skin—the serenity quelled over her even though the chaos of the ending beckoned—

—she knew she would crash—

—because she was a fallen angel.

I want to note that I teared up writing this. I didn’t like the writing, but it forced itself out as a wicked weed. I’m not sure if this made sense to outside eyes, but if you can observe and note Elain’s condition, and the indirect flaws of society I shall not outright name, then I have done a sliver of justice. Sorry anon, hopefully I didn’t let you down too much ^.^

#elain archeron #azriel #lucien #cassian #nesta #nesta archeron #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar

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