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#which i have the dagger to the gut sketched

fizzyxcustard · 2 years

Note

Or, if you feel like something a bit more possessive, Raymond de Merville and "You are mine to own, do you understand?"

Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017)

Pairings: Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader (arranged)

Warnings: Arranged marriage, misogyny, abuse

Summary: You are to be married to Raymond de Merville, but you are terrified of the man. So you try and run away.

Comments/Notes: Please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my tag lists, or removed. Anyone who does not interact (by likes, reblogs, comments, messages etc) will be automatically taken off my lists after a couple of months.

You didn't care if the marriage was a good match between your family and the de Mervilles. Raymond terrified you. "You are mine to own. Do you understand?" Those words made your gut wrench and your heart hammer. That had been his answer when you tried to discuss a way of getting out of the marriage.

You watched Raymond grope the serving girls regularly, and he even took a few of them to his bed. There was no way that being married would calm Raymond; he would still have his way with whoever he wanted. You were just his means to provide an heir to his family's title and fortunes. A legitimate way, at least.

Then you reminded yourself that you were also considerably younger than him, so fifteen years younger. War and brutality had knocked any kindness and love out of him. It had left behind a greedy, selfish and barbaric man.

No one understood your pain. Not even your mother. She kept her head down and only told you the same thing that your father did: it is a good match.

One night, when the moon was high in the sky, and you could bear it no longer. The wedding was to take place in a week's time. And there you would be signed away to an animal of a man, who right now was probably fucking one of the maids and filling himself with alcohol to drown out the nightmares of war.

There was still a spark of hope left inside you, a hope that you would find love. Maybe a man from one of the neighbouring villages would find you, sweep you off your feet and worship you. It was still possibly. Wasn't it? A child's hope, but hope nonetheless.

You got out of bed and began packing; two strips of clothing, a dagger, and some food from the larder. The thought of leaving home and venturing into a new world was terrifying, but also exciting. Being the youngest of your parents' children meant that they wanted you off their hands. An unmarried child was a disappointment. With you gone, why would they care? Your memory would disappear and you could make new ones with someone who actually cared.

It was quite cold, teetering onto the edge of autumn. The summer heat had gone a week or two ago, leaving behind a mild air which had a very slight biting chill in the dead of night.

You didn't even look back as you walked, heading down the main path which lead from the town. Knowing that you were leaving your husband-to-be excited you. No more danger. No more standing on the edge of a precipice in which you would fall into darkness.

An hour, maybe two, passed.

The path was winding, beginning to disappear into a thicket of trees. The moonlight disappeared behind the denseness of woodland. And, then, surprisingly, you heard horse's hooves. They were steady, but coming closer.

In a panic, you raced off to your left, leaving the path and heading straight into the trees. The hooves were still coming closer, and then you heard something which made a chill race down your spine; a terrifying voice. It turned your blood to ice.

"I know you are out here! You cannot run from me."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @xxbyimm @linasofia @knitastically @clumsy-wonderland @sketch-and-write-lover @msjava1972 @guardianofrivendell @lilacpulse @spidergirla5 @asgardianhobbit98

Richard Armitage tag list: @cryptichobbit

#Raymond de Merville #Pilgrimage movie #Pilgrimage #Richard Armitage #Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader #Raymond de Merville x you #Raymond de Merville x Reader #Fanfic #Request #Prompt Request #Lathalea

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

Cassian and Azriel's reactions to the Archeron sisters

Everything will be supported by the text. English is not my first language, so sorry for any possible mistakes. Be kind and respectful!

I will begin this post with the scene that was the starting point of my thoughts.

The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink.

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket.

Very often Azriel and Cassian show the same reaction to the sisters (in this case, they go still). The scene above is a perfect example of that and of how SJM is always very faithful to the differences between the couples: there's a difference of personality, which will be the one I'll focus here, and of "romantic status". Differently from Nessian, Elain and Azriel were in love with different people when they met each other. We don't know what was their first impression of each other yet, but with this in mind and considering their personalities, makes sense that they needed to get close first, trust each other, and then develop feelings (SJM writes slow burns after all).

Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.

“I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

In their very first meet, the males were paying attention to each Archeron, but the way they were focusing on them is different. Look at the wording:

sizing up, warrior, opponent;

attention, polite smile;

While Cassian and Nesta "size each other up like opponents" and are loud/rough in terms of personality, Azriel and Elain are both quieter and acting like peacemakers. Here, please remember Feyre noticing how their personalities are similar:

Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.

Basically while Cassian is always provoking Nesta, Azriel puts Elain at ease, because there's a difference of personality. It makes perfect sense that one of them is "enemies-to-lovers" and the other is "friends-to-lovers". Let's go back to the first scene:

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

Even though Cassian and Azriel's first instinct is the same (they go still), how they proceed is again different (Azriel extends his hand like a gentleman and Cassian is all cocky grins).

Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. (...) “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” (...) “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Just like Cassian, Azriel offered a blade to an Archeron sister so she could defend herself. Again, let's look at the wording:

Cassian pressed the one of his knives;

Azriel pressed the hilt of the legendary blade;

And again, Cassian: cocky, provokes Nesta; Azriel: softly, gently, puts Elain at ease. Of course, in the TT scene there's much more imagery (Light and Dark/ Death and the Fawn/ the fact that TT is not just one of Azriel's blades), but still both males have the same reaction when Nesta and Elain are about to face danger: they need to be able to defend themselves, so the males provide a blade.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

They were speaking, Azriel with some urgency, but Cassian didn’t hear him, heard nothing but the roaring in his head before he said to no one in particular, “I’m going after them.”

They also have the same reaction when the sisters are in danger. As I said before: their first reaction is very similar or even the same in some cases. The major difference here is that we have Cassian's PoV and not Azriel's, but the similarities are so clear:

Unspoken debate = said to no one in particular

I'm getting her back = I'm going after them

Firstly it seems the males are lost in thoughts, so concern about the females, and then they declare they're going to rescue them.

“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him.

It is also very interesting to notice how Cassian and Azriel are the ones that can intervene when the females are "experiencing" their powers. It's like Nesta and Elain use them as some kind of anchor - they both are "lost" in their powers, but can focus on Cassian and Azriel. If Cassian can help Nesta do a scrying, it's Azriel who listen and gets that Elain is a Seer.

Now one of my favorite parallels:

“Are you … happy?” Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. “I’m getting there.” A halfhearted answer. (Cassian, ACOFAS)

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. (Azriel, ACOSF)

Exact same wording. In ACOFAS, Cassian was struggling with his situation with Nesta, and in ACSF it's Azriel who is suffering because of his situation with Elain.

Speaking of ACOFAS, let me highlight this moment:

Nightmares about the moment when Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.

I just find very interesting how the two biggest moments between the couples are brought up here. SJM could had just said Elain killed the king with TT, but she chose to associate that moment with Azriel (she does that very often). Anyway, moving on...

Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Cassian and Azriel looked to Rhys, who merely sipped from his own wine.

Here, we have the males reacting to the females getting involve with the Trove (Azriel stiffened/ Cassian growled); then Amren speaks with Cassian about Nesta, and with Azriel about Elain; then both males look to Rhysand

And of course (I'll be brief because there are lots of posts about these lines):

Stupid, stupid, stupid— He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his—

It was so wrong. He didn't care. He needed to know what her skin tasted like (...) Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.

In both bonus chapters, Cassian and Azriel "don't care" about the possible problems and struggles, all they care about is the female before them. Not only the wording is the same, but in both cases the couples almost kiss.

That's the formula right there.

(Her scent) It hit him in the gut so hard he could barely focus, and it took five centuries of training to make himself meet her eyes rather than let his own roll back into his head.

Her arousal drifted up to him and his eyes nearly roll back into his head at sweet scent.

Basically the way these two are affected by the Archeron sisters is practically the same in both bonus chapters. Speaking of that:

I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

Three days passed with no word from Cassian. He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.

Cassian in the next morning was still affected by what happened in Wings & Embers, and Azriel - three days later - was still affected by what happened in his bonus chapter. Not only that: these are the only direct references to the bonus chapters in the actual books. The major difference here is that SJM wrote Elain as Azriel's secret, so only the readers that have access to the bonus chapter know why he couldn't even smile (very similar to "Cassian only snarled"). Naturally there's a difference of personality, too: Cassian snarling, totally pissed off/ Azriel more aloof, stone-faced.

It's very clear the direction SJM is going.

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel meta #the shadowsinger and the fawn #pro elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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fannishcodex · 3 years

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So I love @revasnaslan 's Where One Fell Verse, a SPOP AU. :D (Will add a link to the fic series in a comment or reblog below after remembering that tumblr sometimes has issues with embedded links, I think.)

Like, I really love it a lot, it borders on self-conscious "am I being too much, will this for some reason bother the fic writer??" And really, I’ve realized, no way, it won’t, especially since I write fic too and know I would be delighted if my fic got that reaction; but I think this may be more part of my self-consciousness and shyness. In any case, my affection for these fics is on hyperfixation level. I'm in the WOF Verse fandom. It's a thing I've been thinking about in some way since I found it late last year via @cirusthecitrus, it's one of the things that cheers me up these days. I struggle to articulate my pleasure with this fic, but I want to try to do it more.

This fic is a wonderfully character-driven story.

Fic spoilers under the cut, so recommend reading Where One Fell (fic 1) and Everything But A Door (fic 2) before this--and also, just, this fic has my deepest rec and everyone should check it out:

But, another different note first, even more self-conscious on my part: me writing about this fic more feels long overdue, but I really do struggle to sometimes articulate even my positive feelings about a thing because I want to get it across well--but I'm trying to more just spill it out now instead of trying to refine it more; and just also other things have been...a lot, there's been a lot (good and less good) that's pulled my attention in other directions too. So, long overdue, I wish I could've done more earlier, but I still just want to...gush about the fic; but I get self-conscious and worry about, like, "I don't want to end up pestering/pressuring and asking for immediate gratification for a new chapter/I don't want to guilt-trip for an update especially since I feel like I understand because I write fic too and I write slow and it's hard"...but I still want to gush about WOF verse, especially since it's like any other story I enjoy. I like gushing about the stories I enjoy.

So, again, this fic is wonderfully character-driven, which I love.

I'll bring up some canon for obvious reasons, but mostly in terms of contrast. One of the ways WOF Verse felt refreshing and drew me in was that after SPOP canon--well, in some ways SPOP canon feels like a wasted ensemble show; like many other things SPOP doesn't pull off, it doesn't pull off an ensemble show (especially when it ends up sidelining a bunch of characters that should've been prioritized more instead of a very mishandled character), and it kinda feels like it ends up having too many characters/like it starts feeling like too many characters if some are sort of just there and not really used (and I have my thoughts on who should've been prioritized, but that's another post; though granted I think my interest in this fic really indicates some of the characters I would've prioritized more).

So, I enjoyed how WOF Verse focuses on a smaller cast, giving them more attention and exploring them more. The general summary of the fic immediately drew me in, because I'm a sucker for family themes and dysfunctional families and familial love getting messy and complicated in fiction, and I hadn't realized I needed clone Hordak and his genetic template/progenitor Horde Prime shifted to them being literally brothers, plus the added twist of having Horde Prime actually care for his brother, but Prime's become thoroughly twisted in how he shows that affection and protectiveness--didn't know I needed that until I found this fic. And oh do I enjoy how this fic opened up the original '80s She-Ra/MOTU up to me more, because I just thought "wow, Hec-Tor Kur is a good made-up alt name/'real-ish' name with a last name for Hordak in this AU, and Anillis Kur just sounds cool and it just feels like it fits as an alt name/real name for Horde Prime when he's not always using that title," and I thought making them literally blood brothers was just a neat twist on them being clone and genetic template/progenitor. But nope, apparently Hec-Tor Kur and Anillis Kur are their real alt names from the original '80s canon which also heavily implies they're brothers, and that's really cool. (And I think it would've been really interesting if spop/the latest reboot had actually just explored that more, explored them more as brothers and siblings.)

Again, WOF is very character-driven, and I love that. And I enjoy how this feels like it also fits the story and world of the fic, which involves Anillis Kur/Horde Prime going into Extremely Overprotective Brother Mode and confining his sickly younger brother Hec-Tor (Hordak) to the Velvet Glove because he's that paranoid about anything happening to his brother due to a lot of family trauma that happened before Hec-Tor was even born/when he was just a baby (and baby Hec-Tor himself almost succumbing to illness and dying did not help with Anillis's issues), not to mention that controlling; so much of the fic so far is in a closed world, it adds to the hyper focus on the characters in that closed world. I appreciate how at times the fic really does have this claustrophobic feeling. I like how it sometimes makes me think of like a one-setting/limited setting play on a multi-chapter scale.

And of course, I like the specific characters getting this sort of hyper focus, and WOF makes me enjoy them even more. I love Hordak, his character, his voice, his design, etc. Horde Prime also has such a cool design and again that same cool voice, I adore Keston John's voice acting and his range in it. Canon S5 doesn't give him enough internal depth or character though, and ultimately makes him too much of just an obstacle and symbol/too much of a plot device in the show and a wasted opportunity for a more interesting character. That becomes even more apparent in contrast to WOF Verse, because Anillis Kur/Horde Prime is so much more interesting!!! Like Anillis/WOF!Prime is so much more interesting, it makes me realize how canon Prime is lacking in character/interest.

Ohman, this Prime. Prime has a great design and a great voice, and WOF has an interesting personality to match those elements in quality. There's so much fascinating contrast with him in WOF, and it makes him feel like a more unsettling villain. We've seen him care, and so it feels more frightening when he turns more aggressive and ruthless and cold. WOF's opening scene really effectively sets that contrast with him; it starts with him exhausted but having a really sweet moment with a very young Hec-Tor, and then not long after that when Hec-Tor's asleep in his arms it's a very unsettling mood whiplash with how Anillis coldly treats the clone attendant; it's even very effectively distilled and crystalized even further with the image of Anillis holding a sleeping Hec-Tor in his arms while glaring daggers at the clone attendant, that contrast of love and threat. Like, definitely a character that can do Both and I love that. And contrast adds layers to Anillis, it renders him in even more emotional dimensions, he can be multiple things at once.

And I rather love that he's far less...touchy, with everyone; it more finally struck me that he's rarely negatively touched anyone until a pivotal scene, and it being a rarity made the scene pack more of a punch, and then I looked back and realized he just doesn't do that often, there's another earlier scene that also feels shocking because it's another rare use of explicit touch, his touch is more targeted--he doesn't need to constantly do it to feel threatening at all, and is in fact much more threatening and unsettling without it. (I literally had to pause some instances because I was nervous about what Anillis would do next.) It's so fascinating to watch Anillis steadily grow worse and to watch Hec-Tor gradually have the dawning realization of what Anillis is really doing and the truth of his situation. It's interesting to see Hec-Tor gradually realizing that what he's lived with his whole life and what has felt normal isn't a good thing, it's not acceptable.

And I really do like that familial love is such a motivating factor for Anillis, and that it's something that feeds into a lot of his ruthlessness and villainy; and it feels like something I still don't see enough in fiction. And it just feels more believable, more consistent. Anillis acts horribly, is abusive, but it still feels like what he does is out of love for his brother and he really is blind to what he's actually doing to his brother, that it's the opposite of what he wants, it's not protecting him like he believes. I like that level of character believability/consistency, and part of that also involves how it's overall framed, and it's still framed as pretty terrifying; Anillis cares about his brother, but his methods are twisted.

And my gut feeling does...well, feel connections between canon and this AU--and that may be obvious as source material and fic based on it, but I mean--it's as if canon were the very rough first sketch/draft, and WOF is the fully realized version of the character, plus the change of shifting his brotherly status into a brother that actually does care but goes about it in a horribly twisted way. WOF takes parts and pieces and little details from canon and fleshes them out into something more fully dimensional and more interesting. Like the trace of canon Prime's collection with plants/other things and even arguably the imagery at the end with his ship the Velvet Glove becoming a tree feel connected to a more fleshed out version in WOF where Anillis keeps a garden. And there's so much meaning that can be pulled from his garden--it's another reflection of his controlling behavior with the way he controls/manages the garden; on the flip side, it feels like it further reflects the contrast/dichotomy in his character, as gardens can still have positive connotations too--it can reflect the potential Anillis had (may still have?) for genuine good/for genuinely nurturing care. And it also does more explicitly point to Anillis's affection for family since his late father had kept a garden too and Anillis's own garden on the Velvet Glove still has his father's plants. There's so much done with Anillis's garden.

And with his backstory and the contrast in his character, just his...everything, I also want to know more about Anillis, I'm curious for even more of his backstory, even going more into "why are you like this?" Like this is a genuinely fascinating, charismatic, threatening, multi-faceted antagonist right here.

And I can go on about Anillis, but I love Hec-Tor/Hordak in this too. I love Hordak, and I enjoy how this still feels so much like Hordak, but with a different life; I feel like there are commonalities that remain from canon within him combined with differences based on the AU he's in and the different experiences he's lived with. Like, there's such an interesting detail with Hec-Tor's growing anger issues that remind me of Hordak--it's there, but different because of their different lives, Hec-Tor's developing because of his isolation but still quieter, simmering, because his brother only has his best interests at heart, he shouldn't act like this... And then it’s so nice to see Hec-Tor be even more talkative about SCIENCE because he does have more space to be a bit more open about his passions in this AU/different life situation. And it's all like another AU I didn't realize I wanted until I saw it--I really dig seeing Hordak/Hec-Tor as a baby, as a little kid, getting to have a childhood and get to have more typical developmental stages and to have more familial experiences, albeit twisted ones. And I love how the story has shifted to Hec-Tor more, love his POV and following him on his journey.

And the clones! The clones are great in WOF and give me feels too. I love how more of them are focused on as individuals, and that we get to see more of their characters and glimpse their differing views. And when Etherian characters join in, they're as well written and interesting too (the Entrapdak is so good). I just like WOF's cast, and the line-up plucked from canon and how they adjust to the AU; this ensemble just feels better, and it's utilized and treated better than canon.

And the worldbuilding with Anillis & Hec-Tor’s race and the clones and their world is so good and seamlessly interwoven with story and character, enhancing the whole thing even more and making things even more interesting.

I just...really love these characters and this story. They have a lot of heart and intrigue.

(Disclaimer: I definitely ended up having trouble figuring out tags for this. Especially since I think only the first five tags actually show up at first? And I think last I checked tumblr freaks out over dashes within a tag so while “hec-tor kur” probably fits better, I don’t think tumblr can handle that for some reason so just going with “hordak,” which also really still just fits.)

#fic rec #spop #anillis kur #hordak #horde prime #not a reblog #where one fell

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thunderboltfire · 3 years

Photo

I lazily colored Iwona’s age chart/looks progression cheatsheet I sketched during lectures. I intended it to be in (almost) flats, but it turned out differently XD

Additional description of her design and character development under the cut! :)

Iwona is a character I’ve had for a LONG time, and she went through several overhauls and minor redesigns. I wanted her to have some FR lore-friendly half-elven characteristics, but I didn’t want her looks to get too outlandish, like, e.g. Jaheira’s portrait from BG2. In the end, Iwona got angled almond-shaped and very much unnaturally blue eyes and diamond-shaped face as her clearly elven trait, while everything else I tried to place in-between a human and an elf.

Canon height:165cm

Class: Warrior/mage

Strong statistics: Strenght, Dexterity, Intelligence (insanely strong for her bodytype - this is a trait I attribute to her half-divine lineage, her Dex and Int are both quite decent but there are characters who are well above her in these stats)

Weak statistics: Constitution (she has to be packed in a tin can or she’s down in seconds - dual classing with 12 con leaves her with very low HP)

Positive and negative character traits:

Inquisitive / troublemaker,

easily attached, easily involved / difficulty to say when to withhold from action

helpful, polite / difficulty declining an ask for help,

dedicated / headstrong

high self-esteem / easily offended

talented / difficulty learning things that require hard work and she isn’t good at understanding them

Headcannoned age during start of BG1 events: 19 years old (honestly, canon age of Your character seems to be quite unclear - on one hand a lot of people calls them ‘child’ on the other hand, they’re considered valid age for an adventuring team leader, and, in the second game which takes place not-so-much later, Charname possibly acts as a temporary caretaker of the D’Arnise keep, as Nalia is deemed too young. That leaves a lot of room for interpretation. I imagine Iwona to be around 19 yo then - a little old to be called ‘child’ maybe, but considering that she spent her whole life behind closed walls of Candlekeep, she may be quite naive despite her age, which again isn’t very young for medieval standards).

I haven’t found anything about the maturing rate of the FR half-elves, but as Iwona is actually a bhaalspawn, her growth rate could be altered anyway so I just assumed that she grew as fast as a human would.

BG1:

Generally, she started the first game on a low note. Iwona was very attached to Gorion and his sudden death (especially that our charname being an apprentice mage knew just how powerful he was in comparison to her) was a shock. She arrived to Helping Hand Inn with Imoen, distrustful of anyone else she met on the way, and very promptly earned a nasty dagger wound to the face. As it couldn’t be immediately fully healed in magical way, it was stitched and part of the healing process happened naturally, leaving a very prominent scar across her face.

As time went on and Iwona got accustomed to her new way of living and became less centered on her own survival and more daring, her natural curiosity led her and her party towards all sorts of dungeons and secluded locations. Growing in levels, Iwona grew in confidence and armor class - until 3rd chapter she changed the splint mail (ughhh I have no idea how it should look like so I just gave her lamellar armor XD) to plate armor and mostly acted as a supporting archer, walking identification station and spare swordswoman of a party. Somwhere between 4th and 5th chapter she got a Full Plate which became her armor of choice until the end of the 1st game. This, before the return to Candlekeep is also where I place whole plot of Tales of the Northern Storm Coast DLC and Durlag’s Tower.

The last chapters were just awful to her - she took the truth of her lineage in stride because she didn’t have much time to ponder on it - hounded, wanted and crawling through city sewers, it suffice to say she wasn’t very happy when she finally faced Sarevok.

SoD

On the contrast SoD began with Iwona probably in the best social position she ever had - rather popular, well-rested and rich, of course something must’ve happened to spoil it or it wouldn’t be her life XD.

While she head out against Caelar’s crusade quite eagerly, she quickly lost her heart to the fight - decaying morale and the amount of effort she had to put in the campaign that had less and less meaning to her personally caused exhaustion that was only worsened by her recurring nightmares. The topic of her terrible pedigree comes back, much to Iwona’s discomfort and slowly becomes an axis around which revolves the entire DLC - riuned temple of thr god of murder, then Boareskyr bridge, then the generals scolding her and asking the impossible - if the entire camp wasn’t hearing the sound of her gritting teeth, it was only because she was out in the wild, running errands and clearing the way for the army. The fact that the lords were so quick to consider selling her to Caelar was something that tipped the scales on her alignment moving from Lawful-Aligned Neutral Good towards Chaotic Good. Around mid-game she changes her armor to newly found elven chainmail, as she relies on her magic more and more, shifting in role to supporting spellcaster.

The ending of SoD was literally a punch in the gut. Whole 11th chapter could and should be criticised as it was a plothole-riddled sieve, but the ending was very inspiring moment of character development. In the epilogue Iwona confirms everything she learned throughout chapter 10 - that it’s not enough to fight and bleed if the stakes are rigged against you. She could win a thousand battles for Baldur’s Gate - all it takes is one dubious situation she’ll be decided guilty. If you being a monster is a well known fact, being a monster on a side of good may not be enough. It doesn’t shake her world so hard that it would make her abandon the path of good, but she decides that for the ones like her, institutions of organised justice, duties and honors won’t work like they’re supposed to - so she’d rather stick to her own moral code and avoid great expectations and titles in the future. About the murder case - what terrified her the most was that she genuinely didn’t remember what happened. She clinged to the thought that she isn’t an evil person - that she knows she wouldn’t do something like that - and ultimately that was her line of defense. In the end this turned out to be true, but she still had no hard evidence to support it. She went back to the small group of faithful friends that believed in her innocence - and she intended to stay there, out of the spotlight.

I’ll probably make a second edition with BG2 and ToB once I establish a canon playthrough of both of them in EE.

#something more about Iwona!#Baldur's Gate #Baldur's Gate: Siege of Dragonspear #long post #Iwona the Gorion's Ward #I am very convinced that teenage half-elves can have acne XD #player character #character development #baldur's gate spoilers #siege of dragonspear #siege of dragonspear spoilers #Thunderboltfire's art #it always seems to me that I ramble too much about my characters #and then it turns out I don't actually write almost anything about them #charname #bhaalspawn

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frozenartscapes · 4 years

Text

Pumpkins - A World Without Gods Fic

Byleth heaved the large, orange vegetable up onto the kitchen table with a grunt, the weight of the object causing the whole piece of furniture and the cutlery on it to shake.

Edelgard did the same, though her pumpkin wasn’t quite as big so it didn’t land with the same intensity.

“Alright,” Byleth said as she playfully dusted her hands, “Let’s get started, then.”

“So remind me again why we’re making...what was it again?” Edelgard asked.

“Jack-o-lanterns,” Byleth told her, “It’s another Halloween tradition.”

“I figured as much. I was mostly just wondering why carving up perfectly good pumpkins to turn them into decorations rather than food seems to be so popular,” Edelgard said.

Byleth merely chuckled. “Don’t worry, El. These pumpkins aren’t that great for food. They’ve been growing them this way for decades specifically for making Jack-o-lanterns. That’s also why we got a couple of those small ones, which are good for eating.”

“I...see,” Edelgard replied, glancing at the two pie pumpkins sitting on the counter.

“So... Do you know what you’re going to do to yours?” Byleth asked, pulling out a couple of markers and offering one to El.

“I think so... I did a little research beforehand when you told me you wanted to do this, although I know right now that many of the designs I saw were far too complicated for me to execute,” Edelgard said, taking the marker and beginning to sketch out a simple face.

“Yeah, some people are crazy good at this. Although most of the time they’re professional sculptors.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’m maybe average at this? The building does a contest but I’ve never won in the years I’ve lived here. I mostly just like the tradition.”

“I’m hoping this will turn out all right. It’s not the same as cooking, but I also can’t say I’ve ever been...careful when it comes to blades.”

Byleth laughed. “I’ve seen you use a dagger just fine, and you were pretty good with a sword,” she offered, “But yeah... Your style definitely was more about doing damage rather than precision.”

“I never really had the patience,” Edelgard admitted with a sigh.

They finished their designs and now it was time for the “fun” part, as Byleth called it. “Ok, so you want to take the knife and cut a circle around the stem. Make sure you cut at a bit of an angle so that the piece you cut doesn’t just fall through,” she explained, demonstrating on her pumpkin.

Edelgard nodded and followed along. Once the hole was made, she glanced into the pumpkin with a grimace. She had never...dealt with a pumpkin before. She knew of them. She had eaten food made with them. She knew of the general concept of their most popular uses, including these jack-o-lanterns. For some reason, though, she never really thought about what might be in a pumpkin until it was staring her in the face.

Byleth simply shoved her hand in without question, removing it with a handful of seeds and pumpkin guts and dumping the goo in a bowl with a wet splat. Edelgard gulped, then carefully stuck a hand into her pumpkin. Her finger brushed against something cold and stringy, and with a small squeal, she yanked her hand back out.

“Why is it warm?” she demanded when she heard Byleth chuckle.

“We were keeping them inside, El,” Byleth reminded her, “Trust me: it’s better than if they were cold.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Edelgard commented, attempting to clear her pumpkin out again. This time she got her hand in far enough to grab a clump of goop, but the squishiness of it made her retreat with a gag.

“Here,” Byleth said, offering a large spoon, “You can scrape the sides and bottom with this, then just turn the pumpkin over the bowl. It’s less messy that way.”

Edelgard let out a deep breath, accepting the spoon with a grateful smile. “You’ve clearly done this a lot,” she stated as she got to work, finding the spoon method much better.

“It’s funny. I used to get together with Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn and do this sort of thing a lifetime or two ago. It’s interesting to see how the holiday has changed over the decades,” Byleth said, “Pumpkin carving thankfully has stayed more or less the same. While costumes and candy and decorations and parties have all changed, good old pumpkins have been a nice constant.” For added emphasis, she patted the pumpkin lovingly before reaching in to clear out some more seeds.

A nervous smile made its way across Edelgard’s face. “Ah... And how did...they...find the holiday?” she asked, trepidation growing at the reminder of her former enemies.

“Flayn has always been intrigued by it, so of course it’s Seteth’s worst nightmare,” Byleth replied casually, “Rhea’s kind of indifferent on it. But she really doesn’t like carving pumpkins.”

“Really?” Edelgard asked with an eyebrow raised.

“She doesn’t like the guts,” Byleth said.

“I can’t fathom why,” Edelgard returned dryly, turning her pumpkin over the bowl and shaking out a clump of seeds and goo.

“It’s just seeds and mushy squash,” Byleth teased upon seeing El’s face, “Goddess knows you’ve dealt with much worse.”

“It’s the texture,” Edelgard insisted, “I don’t like how it’s slimy, warm, and sticky all at once. And don’t remind me about worse things because then I’ll start to picture them.”

Byleth laughed again, dumping out the last of her pumpkin guts. “Sorry. I should’ve known better,” she said sheepishly, “How’s it going? You get it mostly cleared out yet?”

Edelgard did a final scrap of the sides of the pumpkin. “About as clean as it ever will be,” she replied, “So now we can start carving?”

“Yep.” Byleth reached for a knife as Edelgard did the same. “Just work slow, and be careful not to cut yourself. Blood might be spooky but parents tend to be more approving of fake blood this time of year.”

Edelgard chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, my Teacher.”

Byleth smiled at the nickname. They were well passed their time spent as student and teacher, but Edelgard kept insisting that Byleth had never truly stopped teaching her new things, now more than ever. So the name stuck.

She realized she had been watching Edelgard carving for perhaps a little too long. She couldn’t help it, though. For as silly and casual as this activity was, Edelgard was approaching it with the same intensity and focus as she did whenever she was learning a new fighting stance or battle strategy.

Byleth blinked a few times before snapping out of it. As much as she would have liked to keep admiring Edelgard, she had her own pumpkin to carve.

“How are you making out?” Byleth asked after a few minutes, finishing up the last few details of her carving in the process.

“Almost... Done!” Edelgard proclaimed, leaning back to take in her creation. The pride in her expression fell away, however, as she studied her work. “Hmm... I feel like it’s missing something...”

“Hang on,” Byleth said, getting up to retrieve a couple of candles from the counter. She set one in each pumpkin, flicked off the lights, and with a snap of her fingers, both jack-o-lanterns lit up in all their spooky glory.

Byleth’s had a large, fang-filled mouth stretching from one side of the pumpkin’s face to the other, and two pointed eyes that seemed to narrow menacingly. Edelgard’s had the classic triangular nose and eyes, but a toothy mouth that was frowning rather than smiling.

“He doesn’t look very happy,” Byleth commented lightly.

“I thought the frown would make it less friendly,” Edelgard mused, “But now I’m not... Oh! I know!”

She quickly left the kitchen, only to return moments later with the plastic bloodied axe Byleth had hung up over the fireplace. After making another quick cut in her pumpkin, Edelgard then stuck the fake weapon inside, giving it the appearance of having just been attacked by an axe murderer.

Byleth couldn’t contain her laughter. “Oh Sothis, I love it, El!” she said.

“See, now he has a reason to be unhappy,” Edelgard replied with a small chuckle of her own, “And you did say fake blood was ok.”

“I did say that,” Byleth conceded, “I can already think of multiple morbid little kids who are going to love this pumpkin.”

---

A few days after Halloween, Byleth returned home after work to an envelope that had been tucked under the door.

They had won the pumpkin carving contest.

#fe three houses #a world without gods #edeleth #edelgard #byleth #ss/modern!au #fanfic #i just have a feeling el wouldn't be a fan of the inside of a pumpkin #she doesn't mind the carving part but the scooping part freaks her out #later byleth shows her how to get pumpkin puree from the pie pumpkins #and to el's immense delight byleth allows her to cut both of them in half with a small handaxe she keeps with the camping gear #'for just this once it WILL be faster to just use an axe'#el: *mysterious wind blowing her hair* my time has come #and yes there are multiple kids in their building who think el's pumpkin is amazing #and for the ones who don't it's easy enough to show them that it's just a prop #like the pumpkin is wearing a costume too #el just can't get over how kids are allowed to be morbid in this day and age #and it's not...scarring for them #they're perfectly normal kids #perfectly HAPPY not-traumatized kids

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

young & beautiful ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : zombie apocalypse!au; punk! au

❖ word count : 13,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol & violence

❖ summary : you’ve always thought your soulmate was an idiot to not be there sooner but eventually, everything connects when it started with Lee Felix holding your best friend at gunpoint.

one.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out and stares at his own reflection on the glass table. The bartender quickly comes back, pushing a tequila sunrise towards his direction. The boy takes an awful amount of time to study how the yellow, almost orange liquid bleeds into a deep red effortlessly.

He shakes his bang away furiously, calling out for the bartender. “Uhm, I just ordered a Coke. Not this.”

“Have a drink kid, it’s on me.”

He pushes the glass away. “No thanks.”

“What kind of adult doesn’t drink alcohol in desperate times?”

“Then what kind of bartender doesn’t run for his life when ravenous freaks are lurking the streets?”

The bartender tips his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. “Listen, kid. It’s either beating the shit out of someone or getting wasted to keep the little amount of sanity left on your mind. So I’m staying here for them alcoholics. Business is running low, not taking any risks.” He wipes his hand onto his white apron, throwing him a playful wink. “Call me if you need anything.”

Jisung beams innocently. “Do you have a pencil? And paper too?”

“Jisung you can’t be serious, where are you?”

Minutes later, he’s starting to regret the questionable-looking sketch of a squirrel on the piece of paper that the bartender gave him. Instead, he presses the tip of the pencil harder onto the surface until it snaps in half, leaving the sharp wooden edges sticking out. He can kill the bartender with this if he decides to spike his drink, Jisung figures. He hesitantly brings the rim of the glass to his lips and takes the smallest sip possible. The burning sensation goes down his throat in matters of seconds. His entire windpipe feels like it’s on fire.

“Hey, I need some water..” He chokes out as someone enters the bar.

The bartender averts his gaze onto the new customer. “Cool, what about you?”

The unfamiliar figure sits beside him, murmuring. “I’m not here for the drinks, but him.”

The bartender looks confused. “A water it is then?”

Jisung’s head starts spinning slightly, dizziness bubbling up inside his chest. He hiccups with the pencil held between his fingers. Something’s wrong with this man. He needs to get out of here, now. “Sorry, I don’t feel too well. I think I’ll get back to—“ Just when he slips himself off the stool, two other men appear out of nowhere and block his way as the first one firmly holds him in place by his shoulders. Jisung immediately turns to the bartender, signaling him to run with his eyes. And the bartender does as he insists.

One of the thugs growls gruffly, making Jisung drop the black duffle bag in his hand. “You’re gonna have to pay for what you did, boy.”

“Hi, I’m Jisung. Sup guys?”

“Did you just say ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’?”

Jisung grimaces as you hiss into the earpiece, the sound screeching against his eardrums. In which, it doesn't really help to cool the situation down. He drops onto his knees when a guy kicks him in the shin, face scrunching up in pain. One of the guys surrounded him hides behind a face mask, whipping out a dagger concealed in his sleeve. With a cheerful voice, “There’s nothing to be all grabby and stabby about.” Jisung gulps. He’d be lying if he said that he’s not about to piss his pants.

“Uhm, do you like the color red?”

The one who’s holding him down snaps, pulling his collar backward. “Shut it, twig.” He elbows him at the back of his head, earning a low, painful grunt.

Jisung asks, as light as a feather, he’s trying too hard to form a proper sentence at this point. “What about coding? Do you like coding? You guys look pretty smart, you must be into coding.”

“Jisung, the hell-- CODE RED, JEONGIN, CODE RED! JISUNG’S IN TROUBLE!”

He sighs in relief when you finally understand, limbs growing wobbly.

“Han, get the hell out of there! I swear--”

Your words get cut off when a goon peels the earpiece away harshly, examining the device with an amused smirk. “Look at this toy, it might be pretty expensive.” Then, he looks at his gang member and cocks a brow. “Why don’t we just take him with us? He’ll lead us right back to their hiding spot.” His team quickly nod their heads in agreement, staring down at the blond-haired boy with mischievous eyes.

With his head dangled low, Jisung’s limbs are giving in but the grip on the pencil never once loosens. “Okay..” He slowly looks up and shoots them a look, chuckling darkly. “This is gonna be fun.” In a split second, the sharp end of the pencil goes straight into the goon’s stomach, making him stagger backward and groan aloud in agony. Although Jisung’s frame is quite small compared to what a standard fighter needs to be, he never fails to take advantage of that. If he’s smaller, he’s gonna be faster than them.

He sweeps a leg across the ground, one of the men falls onto his head, easily slipping into a good sleep until the zombies come in and take care of his unconscious body. Jisung catches the earpiece when it falls out of the goon’s hand. “Thanks, I’m gonna need my toy back.” Before he can slip the device on again, an arm sweeps under his feet and he lands right onto his bottom. “Using fire against fire. Smartass.” He mutters and clumsily props himself up from facepalming himself onto a pool of fresh blood that’s slowly seeping through the tiled floor.

The only conscious goon smirks down at him. “I don’t like coding. But I do like the color red.” When Jisung flutters his eyes upwards, he’s met with a shiny metal blade, inevitable to drive down, straight into his chest, right through his heart. He automatically squeezes his eyes shut as an attempt to brace himself for the contact.

“Hey asshole,” His eyes shoot open at the more than familiar voice.

two.

You’re so screwed. You’re all fucking screwed.

You’re not screwed because you completely forgot that you have four finals in a row next week. You’re not screwed because you broke your mom’s favorite mug or accidentally had a scratch on your dad’s car. Heck, you wish they could beat you with a wooden spoon right now. If only they’re still alive. You’d have your parents put you in timeout and fail four subjects all at once just so that everything can be normal again.

In movies, particularly ‘Zombieland’ or ‘The Walking Dead’, humans are being controlled by a virus that turns you into a walking corpse that feeds off humans’ flesh. But, we naturally do have plenty of brain disorders that can do just that. However, none of those things were contagious in the first place. Until Mad Cow Disease came along. Who would have thought? Cows are simply being part of the food chain then an entire square block, forty bedrooms, and nineteen bathrooms; everyone in your neighborhood went apeshit after the steak they had for dinner.

It’s a miracle how you even managed to run away without being bit by your own parents, who are now brainless serial killers. The idea of eating someone’s organs doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore when you know that you’re only one brain chemical away from turning to a psychotic cannibal. That’s not even the irony of the whole situation. Irony, is how ready your current generation is for the end of the world, but not exams.

Hence, you’re gonna throw a birthday party for one of your best friends like nothing’s ever happened. Except for the fact that you’ll have to lure him out of the sanctuary while the others are working on the surprise.

Now you’re sitting in an abandoned bar, attempting to cheer your friend up with a shot of whiskey. You’ve never really liked the idea of being inside a bar before. Drowning yourself in alcohol and letting the night snatch your consciousness away as you sway your body along with bad EDM, going deaf with laughter and music banging against your eardrums? Not ideal. But now, it’s all empty. The neon lights are hanging by a single cable, wallpapers chipping off with discolorations soaking through the wall. The once infamous bar where students used to get wasted every weekend is now dead. Both literally and metaphorically. You’re not complaining anyway.

“Hey Jeongin,” you speak up lowly. “Have you ever hit a girl before?” You run your tongue over the cut right on your bottom lip, tasting the coppery blood in boredom.

Jeongin stares blankly at the glass of whiskey that you just offered him, studying the yellowish component closely. “No? Why would I?” He looks up and almost freezes to death with the look that you’re throwing his way. He can’t tell whether you’re mad or not because you’re that type of person who doesn’t necessarily need to go all furious or mad to scare the shit out of someone.

“No? Oh, don’t mind me,” you shake your head, low chuckles vibrating through your chest capacity. “I was just gonna ask you how it feels. You know, to kick someone in the gut or punch them in the face when you know they’re clearly not your size.” You sigh and prop your head onto your hand, eyes slightly heavy from the alcohol kick. It’s been a while since you’ve messed with these things. “Right, sorry. Not my point. My point is: stop being a big baby and get out there, talk it out with Jisung you little shit!”

The boy in front of you quickly looks away when you stare him dead in the eye. He swallows heavily, picking at the ripped part of his jeans. “I’m not gonna talk it out with him. That was stupid, irresponsible and reckless. He could have just let it be and not have his jaw broken. He was supposed to sneak in, get out, and act like nothing’s ever happened. Instead, he got caught at a bar, waved at them and even said ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’. He didn’t even get anything but got you in danger! Look at you! Minho would kill us if he saw you with a thousand arrow wounds like this!” He throws his hands upwards and cries out. “I swear to God, I’d never sign up to save his ass, ever, again. I swear—“

You clear your throat, wordlessly dropping a black duffel bag onto the counter with a loud thud. Jeongin’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as his hands automatically unzip the bag, revealing an awful amount of weapons: shotguns, rifles, knives, crowbars, etc. Heck, even some food. God, Jeongin can’t even remember the last time he’s had a proper meal. He subconsciously runs his hand along the matte-finished surface of a firearm, a retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. “Wow,” he utters. “He really— he got them.”

“He did.” You cock a brow, leaning forward and zip the bag up again. “And tell you what, even if you’re not gonna be there when Jisung makes a bad decision again, I will. Because you know damn well that there’s nothing in this world that he wouldn’t hesitate to do as long as your little junkie ass is safe.”

“HEY, WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, CHILL—“

“I said hands up! DROP THE GUN!”

“Chan, DON’T DO IT!”

You and Jeongin quickly collect yourselves, scrambling out of the bar. When the door swings wide open, you’re met with Jisung on his knees, hands behind his head, his Benelli M4 abandoned by a water bottle near the entrance. Meanwhile, there are two other guys who seem like they’re talking amongst themselves as they hold your best friend at gunpoint. Your fingers hover over the pistol in your back pocket, mentally debating if you should engage or not.

The more you’re lost into your own thoughts, the more you find yourself staring at the pink-haired boys standing beside the brunette one, who’s having a handgun, pointing right at Jisung. The freckled boy has you drawn into him like instant gravity because suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning when he looks up and accidentally meets your eyes. That’s when you take a closer look at his features. Perfect dark eyebrows, bright beady eyes, and prominent Cupid’s bow. His freckles are what throw you off, making it possible to look away because they’re like embers of disintegrated supernovas, scattered across the universe for eternities.

“Everyone calm down!” You snap out of it and break eye contact. As much as you’d love to stare at the freckled cutie all day, you’re gonna cut him in his sleep if he dares to put a finger on Jisung. “Lay off my friend. Now.” You declare and receive attention from the brunette as he tells you off with his eyes.

The guy who you assume is called, Chan jerks his head towards Jisung. “Tell your friend that it’d be nice if he could give it back.”

“Give what back?” You turn to Jisung. “Han, we’ve talked about this. We don’t steal from anyone, besides street gangs.” You tell him firmly, motioning for him to hand over whatever the fuck of a thing that those two strangers need because him getting killed for something as childish as a slice of cheesecake is gonna drive you nuts.

Jisung opens up his left palm and shows you a silver wedding band, smiling awkwardly as you hold yourself back from decking him in the face. “Look, I was just looking around and I found this thing, and I got curious then they just came back and deadass threatened me with their guns!” He adds in. “I don’t know what’s the big deal with this ring anyway. Looks like someone bought it on eBay.”

“Say that again, I dare you.” Chan tightens his grip on the gun and clicks in a bullet. As soon as you hear the bullet being locked in to the chamber, your hand automatically flies to your back pocket and pulls out your pistol. You directly aim at his head, finger trembling over the trigger when you switch off the safety catch. “Give-it-back,” Chan says through gritted teeth.

“Jisung..” You warn him.

Jisung protests. “Like hell I would.”

“I never miss, just throwing that out there,” Chan says indifferently

“I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN.”

“ENOUGH!” Jeongin snaps, catching all of you off guard. “We are surrounded by mindless cannibals over here! We all went through it, we all were there when our family turned into those monsters, we all had those times where we had no place to go, no food to eat, no friends to be there for us. Don’t we have enough problems? For fuck’s sake look at us! Is pointing guns and yelling at each other gonna bring the good days back? So would you guys just stop it? We’re a bunch idiots trying to kill each other when the end is fucking near! Can’t we just be friends and play some dumbass games like ‘20 Questions’ like decent human beings while we’re driving them back to the safehouse ?”

You stare at him in awe for a moment there, your muscles relaxing and giving up on the gun. Jeongin gives Chan a Look, chest heaving up and down in pure furiosity. Sometimes the idea of surviving does mess with your mind, forgetting that people are still people. They’re just like you. They’ve gone through some pretty bad shits too.

Chan retrieves his weapon, sighing. “Sorry, we really mean no harm. It’s just that we need it back.” He scratches his neck sheepishly as two dimples are fully on display. He’s not so scary when he smiles after all.

“I’m gonna have to confiscate that for the time being.” You snatch the piece of jewelry from Jisung’s hand. “We’ll talk about this when you guys are back at our base.”

“But—“

“Chan, let her. It’s fine.” The freckled boy interrupts him.

You look at him and subconsciously smile. “Oh? I’m sorry, does this belong to you? Aren’t you scared that I’m gonna throw this pretty little thing away later?”

He replies with mild interest. “I don’t think you’d wanna do that, you could have just kept it to yourself.”

“No, Charming. It’s not my style.” You voice as you stare down at the ring, studying every little detail carefully. The silver band is exquisite with a sterling double knot, adding a unique touch to the elegant simplicity of the ring. You think you’re already falling in love, but are you really gonna tell him that? Most definitely not. “Yep, not my style. And I’ll throw it away someday, that’s for threatening my friend.”

He makes a face and takes a few steps towards you. “I have a name.”

“Don’t care. ‘Charming’ suits you pretty well.”

“It’s Felix. You’re welcome.” He grins, offering you a hand. You decide to take it, kind of taken aback when knowing that his hand is a lot smaller compared to the average guys’. “And I wouldn’t worry about that, you won’t be going home with it anyway. ‘Cause I’ll always find you, always.” He squeezes your hand a little bit too tight for your liking, making you flinch.

Little did you know, behind his back, Felix’s counting down from one two three with his fingers, Chan watching him closely with his gun ready.

Three.

Two.

One.

Jisung quickly notices and reaches out to you. “Y/N!” And one single shotgun rings through the area.

three.

On the outskirts of the once stellar city, lies a warehouse in a not so stellar neighborhood. Dead leaves are falling onto the ground, scraping against the concrete surface, and sending chills down people’s spine. It’s like they’re not even trying to grow properly even when it’s not halfway through spring yet. The eerie atmosphere is just another reason for people to not wander around for too long, as if they’d have the gut to come there in the first place. But it’s still a zombie apocalypse, there are worse things that could happen either way.

You’d be surprised at what people can do when they’re dangling off the fingertips of Death.

People would never guess what’s hidden behind the crooked door. A living room fully equipped with an outdated couch and broken TV, a kitchen with everything but a fridge. Further into the safe house is a bedroom big enough for ten people to fit in, a storage room full of firearms and weapons. Last but not least, security cameras and monitors are set up all around the base, to be more secure. No zombies in this household. It took you and the guys forever to collect enough materials. The only thing that you’re constantly running low on is food.

And turns out Jisung calling your name wasn't the last thing you’d heard.

“Ugh, Minho, get me water,” You groan loudly before wagging your hand around like a madwoman. Once you feel the cool metal surface on the nightstand, you quickly check your own reflection. Needless to say, you’re horrified at what you saw. Absolutely terrifying, yes. Hair falling onto your face, tiny scratches scattered across your cheekbones as they leave an itchy sensation of your skin. Fortunately, the cut on your lips is already cleaned, and your bruises are starting to fade. But what sucks is the constant banging effect on your temple, an imminent pain that’s threatening to swallow you whole.

Yeah, this is why you never drink.

“Minho, water..” Your whimper grows smaller and smaller towards the end as your hand gives up on holding onto your phone. “Is this what whiskey does to the human body?” You smack your lips together as the bitter taste seeps through your taste buds more deeply, choking on the alcohol smell in your own throat.

Minho takes long strides into the bedroom with a bowl of piping hot soup. “Whiskey contains almost no sugar, can reduce blood clots, decreases your chances of getting a heart attack, even a stroke, fights cancerous cells and..” He pauses before wiggling his eyebrows. “Helps you perform better in bed.” He chuckles when you bury your face under your blanket, cheeks tinted pink. He will never not get you with his less than appropriate comments.

“You’re gross.”

Minho smirks. “Low blow.” He cranes his neck tiredly, lips curling upwards into a small smile. “You’re quite lucky. Whoever was trying to kill you missed.”

Your brows automatically knit together as you try to gather the small pieces of memories your brain can muster. Everything that happened yesterday seems too cloudy for you to comprehend, but you could never forget the moment Chan’s bullet missed you by a strand of hair, piercing straight into the plexiglass window right behind you to catch you off guard. Next thing you know, Felix kicked the back of your knees, having you land on buckling ankles.

You tell Minho sternly. “If he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have come back in one piece.” You hold in a breath, in disbelief of your own words. “He spared my life, believe it or not.” Chan let you go, but why would he? You did piss him and his friend off intentionally because you never know what you’re getting yourself into.

Minho figures you might have hit your head somewhere, so he places your food on the nightstand and scoffs. “Eat up, you’re talking a shit ton for someone who almost died.”

“Where’s Han?” You gladly receive the bowl of soup with two hands, mouth watering slightly since you haven’t eaten since yesterday.

As if on cue, you can hear Jisung shrieking from downstairs. “NO NO NO! DON’T SHOOT ME WITH MY OWN GUN!”

You and Minho exchange a look before rushing outside, dashing towards the living room. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.” The commotion inside has your jaw dropped to the floor. Again, Jisung is held at gunpoint for the fourth time of the week, you’re quite surprised that his head hasn’t been blown into bits yet. With the gun pressed against his temple, beside him is the freckled boy from yesterday. Felix, if you’re not mistaken. Chan’s here too, neither of them is looking too happy. If Hyunjin was here seeing two strangers try to threaten his best friend, he’d definitely go apeshit.

“Woah woah, what’s the problem here?” Your brother, Woojin comes out from the kitchen with wide eyes and two glasses of water in his hands. “Lix, put the gun down.” He tells the younger boy firmly, but Felix doesn’t even move an inch.

He cocks his head towards Jisung, a scowl adorning his soft features. “It wouldn’t have to be like this if your friend here didn’t steal my ring. Twice.”

“Jisung, seriously?” You facepalm yourself. You can still vividly remember how Felix snatched the piece of jewelry away from your palm when your face smacked the ground. And now Jisung decided to take it back? Without your consent? You’re not taking a bullet for him, not this time.

Jisung puts his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, I have a confession.” He inhales. “I sold it.” Just when you thought things can’t possibly get any worse.

“What?!” You and Felix exclaim simultaneously.

Felix tongues the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Come here, tell you what..”

The moment Jisung takes a step towards him, Felix takes his hand in a little bit too abruptly. He twists it at a weird angle, making Jisung wince. “That, is for selling the ring.” He presses your friend harshly against the coffee table, the handle of the gun secured on the nape of his neck, and you grimace at the sight. But also, you’re low-key enjoying this. “And that, is for being a little shit. You’re coming with me tomorrow, no negotiation.”

Felix soon lets go when your brother glares at him, smiling softly, warm brown eyes twinkling like a starry night. Jisung backs away almost immediately in caution when he offers to pull him upright and cowers behind Minho. You can tell that he’s terrified of the seemingly harmless freckled boy now. This is what he gets for never learning, he’s made a grave mistake to touch someone’s property in the middle of an apocalypse, where everyone’s more than ready to tear each other apart when they’re pissed about off about something as little as being hangry. “Huh, you’re not very into handshakes then. Don’t you want your gun back too?” He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning to meet Woojin’s eyes.

“Alright, we’ll have to talk about this later.” Your brother merely sneers at Jisung. “I’ll reintroduce you guys. Y/N, my sister.” He motions towards you before averting his attention to the other two. “That’s Minho, find him if you’re injured or need someone to knock some solid logic into your head.” Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. “And the moron who, uh, robbed you is Jisung. He’s a really good guy, I swear. His hands are apparently faster than his brain.”

Chan speaks up dryly. “So he’s a doctor, and a part-time therapist.” Minho nods satisfactorily. “And he’s an idiot.” Jisung just smiles awkwardly because he’s not planning on getting his ass kicked again. At least not for the time being.

You interject, still drowning in confusion. “Wait, you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s the son of our parents’ former business partners. You guys used to hang out as toddlers.” Woojin says.

You widen your eyes. “What?” You can’t believe it. Felix is ridiculously attractive (you’d hate to admit that in front of him) so hanging out with a boy this cute, even not for long would still definitely leave you with some kind of impression. There’s no way this charming guy had witnessed those times where you’re still taking medicine by swallowing them down with chocolate pudding. You’d rather bury yourself alive at this point.

“The Lees made that?” You gasp.

Woojin nods reluctantly. “They sure did.”

Felix takes a few steps forward and looks down at you, decreasing the distance between your faces. His minty breath fans your face and leaves you flustered within seconds. “Long time no see, Princess. Told you I will always find you.” He throws you a wolfish wink, proceeding to walk past you to go upstairs with Chan following him after.

“Hey! I still want my gun back!” Jisung yells after him.

The pet name that rolled off his tongue effortlessly sends your heartbeat over the edge. It’s beating vigorously inside your rib cage, louder than when your parents were about to eat you alive, louder than when you were kicked to the curb by some random mobs, so loud that you’re afraid everyone’s gonna hear it. It’s only your second encounter and he’s already messing with your heart just by simply existing as he is.

Jesus fucking Christ. Now, you’re really screwed.

Because falling for someone during an apocalypse is just another fucked up version of every rom-com to ever exist. Or maybe a knocked-off version of Warm Bodies, except Felix isn’t a zombie.

Yet.

four.

You wake up today feeling quite at peace for once in a while since the zombies outbreak only to find out that Jisung is heading outside to search for medicine with Minho. Meaning, drum rolls, you’re having the honor to go with Prince Charming aka Lee Felix and retrieve his stupid ring. You’re far too mad at Woojin to even finish the can of tuna that he kindly offered. Instead, you decide to bolt outside as soon as possible before you accidentally murder your brother.

“Get in Princess, we don’t have all day!” Felix calls out loudly as he repeatedly honks his car. Admittedly, you’re quite impressed that he managed to find a whole ass Jeep in the middle of this ghost town.

You enter the car, almost gasping at how good of a condition that this car is still in. Whoever owned this vehicle previously, God bless them because they definitely did a great job at keeping it nice and clean. There are no questionable items lying on the floor or inside one of the cabinets, the AC is still working, the radio isn’t showing those creepy statics sounds that never fail to chill you to the bones.

Felix perks a brow in amusement. “It’s mine, by the way, I did a great job at keeping it clean huh?” When you give him nothing but a scowl, he chuckles lightheartedly and starts the engine. “Buckle up, I don’t want you to suddenly fly out of the window or anything.”

“Oh, you’re pretty shit at driving then.” You comment flatly, making an effort to avoid his eyes. They keep drawing you in even at the slightest chance. You’re not falling into that downward spiral again, nope, never. But you can’t help but notice how he still looks good in a bomber jacket with a simple tee underneath, tucked neatly inside his ripped jeans.

Upon your cold response, Felix’s smile remains still on his lips. “Said someone who can’t even drive.” He snickers somewhat sarcastically. Wow, do you miss bickering with Minho about his three spoiled cats.

“Sure, hand over the keys unless you want us both to play tennis with Hitler in the afterlife.” You protest with as much sarcasm. God, it’s been two minutes into the ride and the amount of willpower you’re mustering right now to not grab him by the collar and yank his ass out of this car is actually terrifying. But doing that can potentially threaten your own life so indeed, you’re starting to wonder if that’s gonna be the wisest decision. “What’s the big deal with that ring anyway? Can’t you just break into some jewelry store and find another one that you like?”

Felix looks into the distance, his smile faltering. “My mom wanted me to give it to the girl that I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with. Even when things are fucked up, like right about… now..” He tells you sternly with a hint of sadness in his tone, his warm brown eyes are now cloudy. It’s hard to break through the wall that he’s trying to build, but you don’t think you both are close enough to talk about these things anyway.

If anything, you should try to lighten up the mood. “Good luck with that. Because the only thing you’re gonna be willing to live with now is a gun and those packets of Tim Tam Slam.”

He turns sideways to make eye contact with you for a split second before averting his gaze back on the road. So you actually pay attention to the little details. “Call it.” Felix smiles again, and somehow, you feel like a weight is being lifted off your chest. “And mind you, I have a fiancé. Well, more like ‘had’ but whatever, doesn’t matter, same thing.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “You have a what?!”

“Relax, haven’t you heard of an arranged marriage before?” He looks at you as if you’re some kind of alien species from outer space. “I was gonna give the ring to her but bummer, your friend just had to sell it.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you hold back a chuckle with a hand secured on your mouth. “Wow..” You manage to choke out between giggles. “You must be getting something impressive to be able to agree to marry a goody-two-shoes who owns more money than what she knows to do with.”

“Pardon?” Felix snorts involuntarily. “What does that suppose to mean? Are you insulting my marriage?”

‘Insulting’ is an understatement for an entire lecture that you’ve already planned out in your head that you’re about to give him a piece of but you don’t think he’s ready for that just yet. Instead, you counter softly. “Not quite, but for the most parts, yeah, I guess I am.” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and proceeds to throw daggers towards your direction with his eyes every three seconds. “But let me ask you this. If you wanna give that ring to your fiancé so badly, then do you really love her? Or is everything just a contract so that you won’t put your parents’ company at risk?”

A comfortable silence falls upon the both of you as Felix starts replaying your words over and over again in his mind. He’s never the type to go out and about, looking for love like it’s the only purpose of his life. He’s never dated anyone before. He used to believe that love always comes at the most unexpected moment for the longest time and he should be waiting, not searching. He didn’t think much about the arranged marriage either. She was a nice girl, but they’ve only talked twice, and nothing really clicked like how he imagined love would feel like. Felix knew, he knew deep down that it wouldn’t work out after all but he was just too much of a coward to admit it. But your words hit differently, imprinting him with a little something called ‘reality’.

Everything’s kinda screwed right now, no one knows how much longer humanity can keep up with this whole survival situation. Living on the streets, and can never get a good night's sleep. Although it does sting a bit knowing that he might die alone on this planet, it definitely gives him another point of view to look at the relationship between him and his fiancé. He doesn’t even want to imagine living in the same house with her at this point.

“Your mom wanted you to give it to someone special right?” You tell him softly, a hand brushing over his as an attempt to soothe the ache in his chest. “Then you gotta find them. It’s not over yet. But that doesn’t mean there’s much time left. You don’t have to keep running towards something that isn’t worth it in the first place anymore.” You pause for a moment, lips curling upwards. “Because if we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?”

Felix bursts into laughter and brushes your hand off of him. “Ew! You stole that from a movie and it’s not even good. Jesus Y/N, get some counseling.”

“Don’t shit on my pop culture references like that you uncultured swine.”

“Just don’t do that again.”

You roll your eyes at him. “One more word and I’ll burn you down with this Jeep.” And he just smirks at you because he knows for sure that you won’t have the heart to destroy such a good car when the world is literally falling apart. Because chances are, you hate your dad’s old grey Innovator that only pumps lukewarm air inside the vehicle. In which, isn’t the most ideal thing for an apocalypse. But Woojin loves that thing far too much to throw it away so you’ve never had the heart to tell him to.

Felix calmly parks on a random sidewalk before taking the key and exits the car. “We’re here.” You follow him not long after, eyes squinted due to the brightness of the daylight. Even though you’re barely seeing anything, you can’t seem to recognize this neighborhood. And it doesn’t look very sketchy either, pretty mediocre to say the least. You can’t seem to remember if Woojin has taken you here or not. And you’re starting to wonder how many zombies are hiding behind those buildings, seeing your scent as a solution for their never-ending thirst. Who the hell did Jisung sell that ring to?

Felix narrows his eyes and spots something in the distance. “Y/N, are you seeing this?” You quickly stand beside him, and slowly, a slouched figure comes into view. “I’ll take care of that.” He places a hand on your shoulder when the figure picks up its pace, the muscles on your back tense up at his touch. “Trust me, I’m not gonna accidentally blow your head into bits.”

“Down!”

You quickly duck and slide yourself across the concrete surface in time before Felix can swing the baseball bat straight into your face. The bat comes in contact with the zombie harshly enough to knock it backward, onto her bottom. You and Felix look at each other for a solid three seconds before approaching the zombie again, examining her more closely. Her once blond hair is now doused in nothing but blood, sticking to her face and neck. Both of her lips are completely distorted as if another zombie gave her the kiss of Death (quite literally) as a welcome ritual. Suddenly, she jolts up from her lying position, hands wagging in midair to grab onto something.

You jump backward on instinct as Felix brings the baseball bat down again, and again, and again until you can’t even make out the horrendous features of the zombie anymore. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the poisoned blood and tosses the metal bat away. “Never hurts to double-tap, better not get blood on my white Jeep.”

You blurt subconsciously. “Impressive, Charming.” Okay but in your defense, Felix just smacked the hell out of the zombie with a baseball bat, he basically saved your life. Although you’re fully capable of protecting yourself, that was pretty hot.

He’s too busy fixing the sleeves of his shirt but his eyes immediately light up at your words. “Say that again?”

“In your freaking dreams, Lee.”

Felix pulls you in and ruffles your hair, rocking you side to side happily. “Don’t be so uptight! Complimenting me once in a while wouldn’t kill anyone now, would it?” When he’s too immersed in annoying the shit out of you, something falls out of his pocket with a small ‘clang’.

“Wait, you dropped something—“ You manage to wiggle out of his embrace and bend down to pick it up, and your mind just stops. “Felix…isn’t that your ring?”

five.

“Jesus Christ!” Woojin almost yells when he sees a black-eyed Felix exiting the kitchen with an ice pack on his right hand, lips swollen with several cuts across his face. “What happened to you?”

You walk into the living room not long after, tiny scratches are scattered all over your pale knuckles, blood trickling down on your cheeks like you’ve been crying red. “Okay,” Woojin shakes his head, pushing himself up from the beige-colored couch. “What the fuck happened to the both of you?”

“I punched him in the face.” “She punched me in the face.” The both of you confess in sync, exchanging questionable looks before turning away from each other.

“And why is there blood on your face again?” Woojin swears, if Felix dares to touch you, he will put his head on a chopping block, not to mention hurting you.

You shrug back, grabbing a water bottle from the coffee table and chug on it generously. “It’s not mine.” Without turning your head, you hand the bottle over to Felix. The boy gladly receives it, downing the whole thing left in one go. “Anyway, some mobsters appeared out of nowhere and they wanted his stupid ring. I got my ass kicked for a goddamn piece of jewelry, twice.” You merely glare at Felix who’s applying pressure to the cool pack of ice against his bruised eye, wincing every once in a while. He does feel kinda guilty, believe it or not. Maybe lying wasn’t the best option to get you to hang out with him more. There’s no way you two could have died back there, but he would be more than ready to throw the ring away for the sake of your safety.

But either way, Jisung’s gonna be dead meat to you after this.

“You do realize that we just kissed indirectly right?” Felix laughs when you chuck the now empty water bottle at him, hissing in anger. He’s acting like such a Lee, irritating, and carefree most of the time. In which, makes you wanna kill him with your bare hands even more in these kinds of situations. “Come here, a princess shouldn’t have blood on her pretty face.” He manages to turn you around and face him as he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. When he leans down slightly to wipe the crimson stickiness away, your once tense muscles now relax, loosening themselves.

Within this proximity, you’re able to take a closer look at his starry eyes with long lashes framing them perfectly, his cute button nose, his peachy lips and how his freckles are more beautiful than anything you’ve seen before. One of his hands holds your neck in place while the other is secured on your waist so it’s easier for him to get a better angle. Felix furrows his brows every now and then, being careful and gentle at the same time to get rid of the blood off your face completely. He did pull you into doing the dirty business after all. Might as well make up for it.

You didn’t push him away because this feels...safe, and right. He makes you feel at ease after the longest time, it’s like nothing you’ve experienced before. Not even your brother can possess this sense of comfort in his presence. It almost makes you smile which is seemingly paradoxical because forty minutes ago, you were figuring out ways to hide a corpse since you couldn’t stand his nosy ass for much longer.

“Ew, I’m getting out of here. I can’t bear seeing this.” Woojin makes a gagging noise before stumbling out of the living room with his cup of espresso, leaving you and Felix alone in the living room. A muffled silence occurs for the next thirty seconds.

“There,” He clears his throat before pulling away. “Done.”

You look away. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though.”

“Anything for my princess.”

You ignore his cheeky smile before rummaging through the wooden drawers. “Sit down.” You demand once you pull out a mini first aid kit, Minho always keeps those randomly around the house just in case. One can never be too careful after all. Felix does as you say, taking a seat on the couch. He watches you taking out a cotton swab with a bottle of sanitizing solution. “Lean in.” You command while dipping the cotton swab into the solution, his hand brushing over your thigh accidentally.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You shake your head as an attempt to hide the coral tint on your cheeks. “This is gonna hurt though…” You warn him, cotton swab hovering over one of the cuts on his cheeks. Felix nods obediently, clenching his fists and squeezes his eyes shut to brace himself for the burn. He can’t gush over how cute you look anymore since he’s secretly terrified of cleaning wounds. But who isn’t?

You smirk internally. “Okay, I’m gonna count down from three to one.”

“Three..” A single drop of cold sweat rolls down on his temple.

“Two..” He holds his breath. But before he can react properly, you’re already pressing the cotton swab onto his wound, your other hand pinning his down firmly. “Felix quit moving already! How old are you for fuck’s sake?!” You laugh wholeheartedly, struggling to hold him in place while cleaning his opened cuts with the solution.

Felix shrieks like a little child. “Ah! Ow! Y/N! Ah! Y/N! Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD!” He succeeds in pulling away after a good three minutes, the burn from the alcohol feels like there’s fire coursing through his veins, burning a hole right through his skin. He’s not doing that ever again. “That hurt like a motherfucker.” Whimpering, his brows are knitted together in agony when you put a bandage over the wound. “You didn’t even finish counting, I hate you.”

“There there you big baby.” Smiling at him, your hand gently caresses his calloused ones. It doesn’t take him long to realize how soft your hands are, and how cold they are compared to him too. So he decides to link your fingers together, hoping to give you some of his warmth. You completely freeze at his action and choose to look anywhere but his eyes, from the broken TV to the random magazines on the coffee table and his shiny pistol next to them.

Felix brushes his thumb over the back of your hand and chuckles. “See, you do know how to smile. It’s not that hard to smile in front of me after all, is it?” He brings your knuckles to his lips and peppers small kisses over them lovingly. It makes his heart crack a little upon seeing them all scratched up, because of him. Little actions like this always make you feel fuzzy on the inside, especially when it comes from someone like Felix? You’re done for.

“I didn’t see this. I’ve never seen this. I’m not seeing this. I will never see this again.” He pulls away shyly when Jisung starts teasing you both as he passes by the living room from upstairs. Oh right, weren’t you planning on decking his face for setting you on a ‘date’ with a guy you hardly know only after three solid days when he kicked your ass?

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

six.

Falling for Lee Felix is scarier than getting infected with the Mad Cow Disease (or Mad Zombie Disease). It’s official. But knowing the basic bitch that you are, being loopy in love with him is quite inevitable. There’s no use fighting against fate anyway, still, you’re going to postpone it for as long as you can because you definitely don’t wanna get too attached during an apocalypse.

Sadly, having Felix share a room with Chan right beside yours doesn’t exactly help you avoid him. He always roams the house half-naked at night like he’s trying to put his chiseled abs up for auction after every shower. One time he almost gave you a cardiac arrest when you found him rummaging through the fridge at two in the morning without a shirt on. There were some nights where you didn’t even get a wink of sleep because Chan and he were too busy jamming to music even though they know that the walls in this house are clearly paper-thin. However, you chose to let them slide for the sake of Jisung’s and Minho’s so-called ‘beauty sleep’ aka their spontaneous cuddle sessions throughout the day. That’s only an excuse to avoid him even more.

Felix obviously knows what’s up, so he’s been acting extra annoying these days to get your attention. He keeps popping his head inside your room (which was initially a storage room but you insisted on having it since you didn’t want to share your questionable sleeping habits with any of the guys) and asks for random stuff that never seems to make sense. Like who needs a fucking stapler when the whole world is falling into a crisis? You still kept yourself together and didn’t throw hands at him because you’re not planning on giving him what he wanted.

But what Felix wants? Felix gets.

“Good morning Princess..” He half-whispers and half-singsongs after shutting the door of your room with his foot. “Thank fucking God.” He mentally bows to whatever gods up there that’s pushing their blood family feud aside to bless him for the day. You’re still fast asleep, snoring softly with your grey blanket wrapped around your body.

He’s impressed by how you still manage to not wake up early every other day because there’s no curtain unlike his room so the sunlight can easily peer right through, casting a delicate light on your figure. Surprisingly, you don’t sleep like Chan, with his leg dangling off the edge of the bed and his blanket’s on the floor by the time the sun rises again. You sleep with four limbs curled inwards, hands grabbing two full fists of the grey fabric like a puppy.

He also notices how you’re still keeping pictures of your childhood memories on one of the empty bookshelves. There’s one with you and Woojin standing in the middle of Time Square when you both came to the States. And there’s another one where you’re dressed up as Harley Quinn with Hyunjin as the Joker on your right, Jisung as Rick Flag to your left and your brother as Deadshot squatting on the ground for your senior year’s Halloween party. Although you’re more of a Marvel gal yourself.

“Y/N...” Felix whispers softly as he sits down on your bed, careful not to wake you up. His original plan to have you chase him up and down the house is already going down the drain since he really doesn’t want to ruin a good night's sleep. Chan has done that to him one too many times and he sure knows the consequences. Heck, Chan might not even see him after this.

Felix outstretches his hand carefully, caressing your cheekbone like you’re made of glass. He can’t help but act like a creep because you’re too cute for your own good when you’re sleeping. It’s kinda nice actually, to not have you yelling at him for not putting clothes on right after his shower or wrestling him to the floor whenever he headlocks you at the most random times.

Suddenly, your eyes shoot open. The moment you see another human being’s presence in your own personal bubble, you automatically grab him by the neck before pinning him down onto the bed, locking his arms behind his back. “Ow! Ow! Dude, chill!” Felix cries out from underneath you, struggling to breathe properly when you’re practically crushing his lungs. Okay, he definitely did not see that coming.

“My goodness, what are you doing here?!” You gasp in realization, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Woojin- said-“ he chokes out between uneven breaths. “I could- come in- and wake you up.”

You cross your arms and sigh. “Yeah, come in.” You say with expressive hands. “Not touching me without my consent.”

He winces at the red marks across his wrists. “Since when can you fight someone like that?” Yeah, those aren’t going away anytime soon.

“What part of ‘Zombie Apocalypse Self-Learn Defense Basics 101’ don’t you understand?” You yawn tiredly before running a hand through your bed head. “Anyway, what do you want?”

Felix beams innocently, taking in the sight of your pajamas. “Your attention.” And you internally thank your brother for not doing laundry yesterday (water’s also running low), which means you had to borrow Minho’s PJs instead of wearing your Mickey Mouse sweatpants with the tank top from your old basketball team.

You really don’t have time for this, you think. Coldly, “Why?” you fake a lifeless smile.

“You’ve never spoken to me since the day when those mobsters beat the shit out of us.” He pouts like a sad kitten. “Look, I know that it’s my fault okay? I’m sorry. But I really just wanted to hang out with you. If you didn’t play hard to get, you would have saved us a trip to some sketchy neighborhood.”

You stop him right there. “First of all, I did talk to you. Just a maximum of five words per day. And secondly, they didn’t beat the shit out of us, we made them run back to wherever they came from, crying for their mommy while soiling their pants.”

“There!” He exclaims. “You said it yourself. Five words per day. Why? Am I that much of an asshole to hold a civil conversation with? Don’t tell me that you’re still holding grudges from the day we first met.”

“So what if I hold grudges? Do you think holding my best friend at gunpoint is gonna make me wanna befriend you?”

“Okay, bad example—“

“Look, can we talk this out later? I need to go outside and look for some food. We’re running out of those premade, frozen chicken nuggets that my brother’s obsessed with. As always.” You push him aside and place your hand on the doorknob. But Felix catches your hand in time before you can twist it, yanking it back so that you’re facing him, dead in the eye. He’s not letting go of his chance again. “Let-me-go.” You deadpan but receive a frown from him as a reply.

“No,” Felix looks like you just spit on him, his mocha eyes are now unreadable, almost hurt at why you’re acting so cold towards him. Some guys find it hot when girls have this kind of facade on, but this? This shit hurts him, tremendously. You might see him as a spoiled brat at day and party animal at night who just happens to be friends with your brother for all he knows. “I don’t trust your definition of ‘later’. Who knows? You might never let me into your life again after this conversation. I don’t like people shutting me out like this. Tell me, Y/N, do you really hate me that much? If so, I solemnly swear I will never talk to you again.”

Your prepared beforehand witty retort grows dead on the tip of your tongue. His eyes...they’re not lying. It makes your heart crack a bit upon seeing how sad they look right now. Perhaps you were being too harsh on him? Maybe you shouldn’t have judged him from the get-go? “You care about me, don’t you?” Felix reaches his hand upwards to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. He gently grabs your hand and places them on his cheekbone, where a scar is fading by time. “Remember this? You treated me. You do care, Y/N. You’re not stupid enough to think that I didn’t know right?”

You retrieve your hand and scoff. “Why would I care? Did I look like I cared? The only reasons I treated your wounds were because I could witness your pathetic state and I punched you in the face previously. Totally didn’t regret that but still, I wanted to make it up to you.” You say, desperately trying to wiggle your way out of this conversation because you’re not enjoying where this is going.

He inches closer and closer until he’s a breath away from your lips. “Because when you were treating my wounds, you had that dumb look on your face whenever you’re focused.” And you finally exhale when he pulls away, backing out of your room with a smirk. “I’ll wait in the car, your Highness.”

seven.

Going grocery shopping with Felix is rather stressful. Not because there are zombies spontaneously popping out of nowhere every five minutes, but because you quickly, quickly realize that this boy knows nothing about food other than stuffing his face until he can’t even pick himself up anymore. He can’t tell the difference between actually good meat and meat that’s been spoiled for several weeks. You literally can’t even fathom why because the foul smell would definitely give it away but unfortunately, he doesn’t even spare a second to suspect the sketchy hues of green and blue on the red surface.

But hey, at least he can kick some zombies’ asses when you’re too busy deciding between salmon and tuna. You’d always end up getting both anyway because why not? Guess this is what you get for not having to pay for anything. Being stuck with an uneducated fool who’s never once experienced working in the kitchen. The area around here is somewhat isolated so the stores are still pretty stocked up with all of the essentials. Thank God they haven’t run out of Woojin’s favorite chicken nuggets.

“Do you even know what this is?” You throw your hands up midair in disbelief, referring to the pile of grapefruits that are now half-way empty for no particular reason.

Felix makes a thinking face, lips pursing. “I think it’s a flamingo.”

“Lee Yongbok, you gotta be shitting me—“

He stops midway towards the frozen aisle. “Woah woah slow down bro, where did you get that name from?” His Korean name is as confidential as Chan’s secret drawers full of his guilty pleasure food. Not many people call him that because he secretly hates it and whoever takes that advantage to make fun of him deserves the cruelest of punishment. Felix frowns furiously at you before grabbing several packs of the chicken nuggets, fries, and some dumplings to throw them into the cart along with his Tim Tam Slam and your KitKat. “Chan told you right? He’s been on my ass all week since we moved in with you guys.”

You help him with stocking up canned food. “Why though? He seems like such a nice guy.” Okay except for the fact that he almost blew Jisung’s brain out. But you’re not gonna dwell on the past. “No worries though, everyone has probably known your Korean name by now.”

“This is not what I signed up for.”

You aggressively grab him by the neck to ruffle his hair, laughing at his misery. “Look at us, we’re already becoming so civil, I bet my brother is loving this.”

Felix tugs himself free from your grip to fix his hair and huffs. “Could be fate, you know?” He wiggles his brows, making you gag as you both make your way out of the store.

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “And they say I’m the crazy one.”

“No! I’m serious!” He exclaims with two hands up in defense. “One thing leads to another. Are you seeing how far we’ve come?” He pauses for a bit when the two of you reach the car so that he can throw everything to the backseats. “Jisung impulsively stole my ring, which made us run into each other. I met you again because I just happen to be friends with your brother. And since you tried to avoid me so hard, I had an excuse to piss you off so that I’m making up to you right now. How is that not fate?” He ends his speech before entering the car, inserting his key to start the engine.

You jump into the passenger’s seat, scoffing. “Thanks for the pep talk, pretty sure fate’s doing all the work. Now, where are we going?”

“I’m hungry, and I’m craving something.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “And I’m supposed to care because..?”

“Shut up and turn on some music.” He tosses you his phone.

Felix’s playlist consists of a handful of Coldplay’s songs with some other upbeat, trendy ones. He knows enough lyrics to sing along to throughout the drive. You look out the window and loosen yourself up a bit. His voice is surprisingly soothing, a stark contrast to his usual deep talking voice which is kinda nice to listen to. Both of you never start talking because you’re already dozing off to Dreamland because he had the audacity to drag your ass out of bed at eight in the morning. Your head constantly knocks onto the cool glass window every two minutes or so, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering your slumber.

It’s almost noon, and the sun’s probably the only thing that’s keeping Felix awake. He’s hungry, thirsty, sleepy and kind of stiff from occupying the driver’s seat for way too long. He didn’t get any sleep last night, busy thinking of ways to get your attention again. Luckily, he didn’t walk out of your room with a black eye this time. Felix mentally exhales when he pulls up, and his eyes are met with the giant purple and pink neon sign: “Fancy” aka Chan’s favorite place. He shuts the engine off before leaning over to wake you up.

“Meow,” he flinches at the sound and immediately turns to you. You would never possibly make that, would you? “Meow,” there it is again. His eyes shift again to the backseats, squinting hard only to make out a yellow ball of fluff shuffling through the bags of groceries. “Oh my God Soonie, what the hell are you doing here?” He sighs in relief when the cat finally looks up at him, green eyes piercing through the dark.

You stir in your slumber and eventually wake up upon hearing the commotion. “What happened?” A loud yawn escapes your lips when you rub your eyes tiredly. You turn around only to see Minho’s oldest cat pawing at the paper bags. “Are you seeing Soonie in the backseats right now or am I just delusional?”

“Well, that makes two of us. She probably sneaked out again, Minho’s gonna throw hands soon.” Felix scoops Soonie into his arms easily and opens the door. Then, he turns around to look at you. “Come on, I bet you’re hungry, my treat.”

eight.

“Food,” Felix tells you when he shuts the door behind his back. He takes in the cool air of the diner and exhales deeply. God bless humanity for air conditioners.

You nod back without looking at him. “Yeah, food.” And you let him drag you across the diner by the wrist.

The diner is definitely not the place that needs to be booked months in advance. It’s not the kind with large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, velvet tables or delicate classical music in the background. It leans more towards the retro style with checkered floor, colorful and fun pieces of furniture, somewhere that makes you feel cozy too. You like it here.

Felix outstretches his limbs and yawns, petting Soonie gently. The cat isn’t as impulsive as she is whenever Doongie or Dori is trying to steal her toy. Thank goodness. “Nayeon!” He smiles and waves at the brunette girl behind the counter.

She quickly catches your eyes with her bunny-like smile, radiant skin, and pretty eyes. When she smiles, her cheeks are bunched up, eyes wrinkling into little crescent moons. The type of smile that will make anyone a little breathless. Then, you hear Felix mumbling that something smells really fucking good when he leans over the counter. You look around the diner once again, although it’s empty, there are still people working as if they don’t mind the given circumstances. These people are all high, they are all insane. They have to be.

Nayeon pulls out a pen along with her notepad, eyeing you with curiosity. “Hey kid, where’s Chan?” And you quickly break eye contact with her, pretending to have some kind of interest in the photo of her with other eight girls right beside the menu. They were on a tropical island, smiling and laughing with the ocean waves splashing against them. All of them are incredibly gorgeous, making you feel small in comparison.

“He’s elsewhere with Woojin today. I’ll take the usual,” Felix slides the smaller version of the menu across the counter, perking a brow for you to take a look at it. “Choose whatever you like.”

You shrug. “Anything will do.”

“Then two of what I already said then.” He nods towards the waitress, earning another warm smile.

Nayeon taps her pen against her cheek, whispering. “Who’s that? Did you find someone?” She looks down at how his hand is holding onto yours and grins mischievously. Felix automatically drops your hand at her words, blushing furiously while looking down in slight embarrassment. “Ah, no need to explain, I’ve got you.” She places a hand on his shoulder and laughs before punching in your order.

“It’s not—“

Nayeon puts her index finger over his mouth. “I’ve got you.” She’s never seen Felix hanging out with any girl other than his sisters before so she’s 90% sure that you’re not just any girl to be able to go to this specific diner with him. By the look of it, there’s gotta be something between you two. How you’re constantly staring into midair and anywhere else to avoid her eagle eyes, how Felix’s cheeks are redder than a tomato. Everything just speaks for itself. “Your orders will be right out.” She beams and walks back into the kitchen. You almost bury yourself alive hearing multiple females squealing and giggling in the distance.

“Sorry about that,” he pushes himself away from the counter before smiling sheepishly. “They just get excited because—“

“Because you’re a coward who’s never been in a relationship before.” You finish his sentence with a smirk, snatching Soonie from his pocket and walk over to one of the round tables.

Felix settles down on the opposite side of the table with a sigh. He shoots you a dirty look before pouting. “God, you’re so mean. Stop exposing my miserable, non-existent love life.”

[1:35p.m.]

meanhoe | uhm hello Kardashians, I’m looking for my eldest daughter Soonie?

woobear | not the living room!

[1:36p.m.]

trashbin | not my room!

drama lama | not the backyard!

old man | not the kitchen either!

[1:37p.m.]

quokka | not the bar too!

meanhoe | tf are you doing at a bar?

quokka | retrieving my sanity…

[1:38p.m.]

meanhoe | you know that my whiskey is wayyy better right?

quokka | DID I STUTTER?

meanhoe | swiped left.

[1:39p.m.]

y/n | she was inside Felix’s Jeep for some reason, we’re at a diner rn, some place called ‘Fancy’?

old man | LEE FELIX YOU TRAITOR!!

old man | YOU BETTER BRING ME SOME WHEN YOU GET HOME.

[1:40p.m.]

meanhoe | bring her home safely, and I’ll make dinner.

meanhoe | if not, I will grab you both by the throat and tear you apart, piece by piece.

meanhoe | there will be no negotiation, no compromise, and no mercy.

You just grin at your phone before putting the device away and shudder slightly. That’s enough Internet for today, boys being boys. This is why you’re low-key terrified of cat lovers. “Well aren’t you busy,” Felix scoffs when he sees that you’re not having any interest in one of the proper conversations with him that rarely happens. “Too busy texting with some cute boy to talk to me instead?” He cocks his head sideways, mustering his best puppy eyes or in this case, kitten eyes because he looks just like ‘Puss in Boots’.

You pinch his nose cutely, making him back off in pain. “If you’re saying Minho aka the freaky dad cat is cute then yes, I am extremely occupied with him threatening my life for having his beloved daughter in my arms.” Then, you allow him to glare at you for as long as he likes while you’re too focused on admiring the view from the window. The sky is oddly blue today, not too cloudy, not too sunny, the air is not that stuffy either. Maybe on a good day, even a zombie apocalypse seems pretty normal. You can understand why these girls still want to run the diner during times like this, simply because they love their job. And they want to help those in need because it’s the least they can do, to give people a heartwarming meal.

“Sorry,” Nayeon walks towards your table with a bowl of warm milk. “The food will be out in a minute, I just don’t want the little thing to starve and be all miserable while you guys are stuffing your faces.” She pets Soonie with the warmest smile and the kitten purrs into her touch, closing her eyes in satisfaction.

Felix pulls her out of your arms and gently places her next to him on the cushioned surface. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though. Minho spoils her on a daily basis.”

Curiously, “When did this happen?” You frown before running your index finger over a small hole that just happens to be the size of a bullet, cautious enough to not accidentally cut your finger.

“Oh, that,” The brunette waitress' expression mirrors yours, slightly confused and intrigued. “Huh, I wonder…”

And all of the colors drain on your face. “Duck,” you say breathlessly, breaths coming in short.

“What?” Felix can barely hear his own voice.

Nayeon suddenly looks alarmed. “Everyone get down!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, arms flailing like a madwoman. “GET DOWN! NOW!”

Just then, a bullet pierces right through the window, glass shattering into pieces as you see Nayeon clutching onto her own stomach, blood oozing from her fresh wound. You’re ready to yelp aloud when Felix pulls you down onto the ground with him, letting his body cover up your head and shards of glass cut his cheeks. The diner grows uncomfortably silent when no sound is made, but you still keep your eyes shut and your face buried in his chest.

“Hey hey look at me,” Felix tells you, angling your jaw so that you can make eye contact with him although your eyes are quivering in fear. It’s not the first time you’ve heard a gunshot before but he’s never seen you so shaken up about it before. It hurts seeing you like this. “We’re gonna be okay—“

Before you can reply without tripping over your own words, something falls onto the tiled floor, rolling across the surface to reach the other side of the diner. You squint your eyes hard to make out the shape of the object. It was almost the size of an avocado, round-ish, and dark. No one seems to notice it at all until there’s an ear-piercing sound that keeps beeping, echoing throughout the entire diner.

“Shit—“ You breathe out and hold onto Felix tightly, bracing yourself for the blow.

That’s when the entire place explodes, destroying every single thing until there’s nothing left but the grey ashes that are following the wind to reach the burning sky above.

Utterly demolished, you’d say.

nine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Woojin says softly when he sits down next to you on your bed. He gives your hand a squeeze in reassurance, heartbroken at your state. You look as pale as a ghost, the bags under your eyes more evident than ever, and your lips chapped, starting to turn purple. You haven’t touched the food that Minho offered for the past few days, still refusing to talk to any of the guys. But he was relieved that you were saved from the pile of ruins by one of the workers there - Jihyo, he believes that’s her name. He wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you.

“No,” you shake your head profusely. “Not now.”

“So the thought of losing him does scare the shit out of you?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Then you’ve found your happy ending,” your brother ruffles your hair and stands up. “Yes, right in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.” He smiles at you one last time, “Anyway, you better find him then. Godspeed.” before closing the door with a small ‘click’.

Meanwhile, you’re staring at the wooden floor blankly, starting to wonder how filthy rich the previous family living here was. By the look of it, they seemed to be pretty well off but were probably scared shitless when the disease spread like wildfire. With that, they took off running, leaving everything behind to preserve their precious lives. But who knows? They could be some random zombies out there, roaming the streets mindlessly by now.

You space out a lot these days, thinking about random things, but mostly him. You keep on asking yourself where in the world is he, how is he holding up, but it’s all pointless since you don’t even know if he’s still… Anyway, but when you peer at the small mirror on your table, you can see a small glimmer of another presence inside your room. Sometimes you don’t realize how far you can go whenever you’re thinking hard about something. It gets to the point where you don’t even move when Minho or Hyunjin is yelling or screaming about some stupid things right in front of your eyes.

You take another look, eyes growing wide. It’s a glimmer of a pink-haired boy.

“Hey Princess, not gonna choke me to death for intruding your room this time?” Felix jokes before kneeling down in front of you. It takes you an entire two minutes to understand that he’s here. He’s really here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him in person that you’re starting to get emotional just by looking into his eyes. They’re still starry, warm and give you a sense of comfort whenever your gazes touch. “Hey, it’s all good now.” He wipes a single tear away from your face that you didn’t even take notice of.

You choke out, debating on whether you should be bawling your eyes out because he’s safe and sound or kick his ass for worrying you. “You can’t just come back and say that! Do you know how scared I was?! Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve gone through? And now you’re just gonna come back from the Underworld to tell me that ‘It’s all good now’? Well then if you excuse me, I’m gonna go murder my friends and see if it w—“

Felix figures you still haven’t changed one bit. He knows that you’re a lover, not a fighter. Talking big on the outside but easily hurt on the inside. That’s one of the things that makes you who you are today, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. So he wordlessly leans in to capture your lips in his, swallowing every word, every nonsense, every nag that you’re gonna throw his way until you completely melt into his touch. The kiss makes your head a little fuzzy, and butterflies are tickling at the pit of your stomach. For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, Felix will definitely make you giddy all day with a kiss like this. It’s kind of innocent, kind of childish but unforgettable.

The deeper the kiss gets, the more you think about your conversation with him the other day when he’s driving you to the diner. Fate might be a thing, but still a debatable topic. You’re not gonna say that you believe in fate because that’s a whole lot of commitment for someone who can’t even stay up to date with a short web drama. But maybe, just maybe, fate is doing its job just fine after all because you can’t ask for anyone else to be with you at the end of the world. You know that Felix’s not here just because the universe pities you (or him), or he will love you just for the hell of it either. Everything happens for a reason, but more importantly than ever, he’s not going anywhere this time. You didn’t ask, you’re sure of it by the look in his mocha eyes.

Because like you’ve said before, his eyes never lie. They could never.

You pull away before planting your hands on either side of his shoulders, chest heaving up and down due to shortness of breaths. “How did you...you know, make it?”

“I really thought that I was going to suffocate to my untimely death under the ruins of the diner but the girls found me later on when they were digging through everything. I was knocked out for a good week, some scratches here and there, but no one was hurt severely“ he stops himself before continuing when he sees your glossy eyes. “Nayeon is fine too. She didn’t lose that much blood, surprisingly.”

You let silence fall upon the both of you for a second when a rush of relief runs down your spine. Then, your lips twitch slightly at what you’re going to say next. “Do you know why I treated your wounds that day? Do you know why I stared at the floor when your friend was teasing us? Do you know why I spent the past few days being all depressed and teary in bed?” You ask Felix with such determination that it makes him chuckle.

“Easy,” he grins and caresses your cheekbone the exact same way he did a few days ago. “Because you fell for a spoiled rich kid who knows absolutely nothing about being in love. Just like how I did for you, a girl who’s best at killing the walking dead, not cooking, not cleaning, none of that shit. Weirdly enough, fate brought the two of us together again when we’re both lying on the borderline between life and death.”

You roll your eyes at him and finally crack a smile. The smile that he adores the most. “Then what if fate does us apart? What if it doesn’t want us to end up with each other again? What if this isn’t a happy ending but a beginning to something much more terrifying?”

“In that case,” Felix leans in again, his breath fanning your cheeks. “I will always find you. And look for you, and run to you until I no longer have the strength to lift myself off the ground with my own feet.” He gently slips the silver ring that he treasures with his entire life onto your finger and places small kisses on your knuckles, looking as beautiful as ever.

He’s right, and wrong at the same time. The idea of fate does have some kind of power over mundane mortals like you because you’ve been tied down to the idea of not being able to control your own life since you’re born. But on the other hand, sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hand to be able to get what you want in life. So seeing how determined Felix is to find you even if it means walking to the other side of the planet with his bare feet in spite of being such a naïveté who believes in things that are considered dumb, you know that he’s being serious.

At the same time, you accept the fact that you didn’t find love, it found you because it’s got a little something to do with fate, destiny and what’s written in the stars.

You tell him, voice hoarse. “You’ll find me and never let me go?”

“Not this lifetime, not even in another one.” He says with a smile, eyes crinkling.

#stayshub #stray kids ot9 #lee felix fluff #zombie apocalypse #skz au #skz fanfic #felix fic #lee yongbok #stray kids scenarios #felix x reader #han jisung #yang jeongin #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #seo changbin

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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 4 years

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Trinkets, Worthless, 10: These trinket are garbage plain and simple. They would be termed vendor trash or junk loot in video games. They aren’t touched by stray magic or mystery as with regular trinkets, aren’t made from valuable materials and aren’t particularly useful even if they aren’t damaged.

A burlap bag containing a dozen assorted doorknobs.

A rather large and dead hairy spider that looks as if someone tried to make a wig out of it.

A small beige oilcloth sack embroidered neatly with the word ‘CHEESE.’ You can smell it from halfway across the room.

An expertly taxidermied rat with a built in candle holder capable of bearing a small tea candle. The mouse is posed as if scurrying

A lump of coal with runes carved into it.

A five pound pyrite (Fools gold) ingot.

A worn minotaur’s nose ring that has been bent and beaten back into shape many times.

A lacquered wooden coin engraved with the holy symbol of a minor God of Random Neutral Domain.

A smooth, flat, black river stone.

A small, tattered canvas sack containing a dozen half-rotted teeth that are as long as a thumb, but are decidedly identifiable as human.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A burlap bag containing a dozen assorted doorknobs.

A rather large and dead hairy spider that looks as if someone tried to make a wig out of it.

A small beige oilcloth sack embroidered neatly with the word ‘CHEESE.’ You can smell it from halfway across the room.

An expertly taxidermied rat with a built in candle holder capable of bearing a small tea candle. The mouse is posed as if scurrying

A lump of coal with runes carved into it.

A five pound pyrite (Fools gold) ingot.

A worn minotaur’s nose ring that has been bent and beaten back into shape many times.

A lacquered wooden coin engraved with the holy symbol of a minor God of Random Neutral Domain.

A smooth, flat, black river stone.

A small, tattered canvas sack containing a dozen half-rotted teeth that are as long as a thumb, but are decidedly identifiable as human.

A single feather hanging from a chain of slender twigs reminiscent of a bird’s nest.

A dull-red, cloth pouch filled with five pounds of finely ground, rust flakes.

A pair of minotaur horns, which were well used by their original owner.

A tangled mess of metal wires fused together with heat and attached to a wooden plaque. It may be a worthless mess of twisted scrap metal or a priceless piece of inspired artwork.

A heavily used hand cranked wood drill that creaks loudly when used.

A foggy hand mirror that when cleaned, immediately fogs back up.

A cracked and weathered hourglass that only has some sand remaining

A battered leather satchel filled with dried red beans.

A fishing hook that cannot be bent.

A large tin canister whose lid is crudely stamped with the word “JURKY”, which contains dozens of sticks of meat jerky. Any creature can clearly identify the jerky as “meat” but as to the exact animal the dried “food” came from, (If it is only from a single species of animal) is impossible to tell.

A battered stone shaped like a heart.

A child's wooden doll that makes whoever looks at it uncomfortable.

A cloth sack packed to the brim with cat fur.

A cloth sack packed to the brim with dog fur.

A flat, round, dark gray stone speckled with reddish flecks, and about six inches across.

A sewing thimble that, when poked by a needle, will roughly squeeze the bearer's thumb.

A small brass key.

A hand mirror with a horn handle. Instead of actually functioning correctly, the mirror reflects all creature's image as a specific bald human of unknown origin.

A very roughly drawn map of the surrounding area. A knowledgeable creature is able to tell that the map is not to scale and is barely useable for actual navigation.

A spindly iron key.

A chipped nautilus shell.

A moth eaten, gray velvet clutch purse.

A fairly convincing but ultimately inaccurate map, with a single red dot marking “You are here”.

An old scratched up lyre, strung with well-worn cat gut strings.

A Random Humanoid Race’s rotting, severed head.

A crudely made staff topped by a small skull.

An uneven, gnarled length of wood from a grotesque tree.

An old and cracked velum scroll whose script has been rendered illegible by the ravages of time.

A simple, springy rod made of twisting vines and twigs.

A rotting wooden goblet filled with a festering brew of pus, blood, wriggling maggots and worms that spill from the froth on the liquid's surface.

A dusty old pair of half-moon glasses of such a strong prescription that they are unwearable for most creatures.

A cracked glass jar containing a crudely removed bear claw.

A poorly embroidered handkerchief with the words “I love you dad” crudely stitched into it.

A red, child sized, fuzzy blanket that smells of mold and mildew.

A desiccated hoof that once belonged to a large, male elk.

A simple dusty scroll has no marking, seal nor text on it. By all appearances, it is a standard sheet of writing material that is bound by a single hemp thread.

A stone jar of filled with acid. The jar's lid is badly fitting, and the acid bubbles and froths as it moves. The object's sole markings are a skull symbol resting overtop of a warning written in Dwarvish.

A bedroll that is covered in a large, dark stain, but is in otherwise fair condition.

A set of crude fishing supplies, including a box of maggots, several bent hooks and a ten foot length of wire.

A set of clothes, appearing halfling in size and design. They appear partially burnt and have a large, black stain on the chest.

A primitive woolen bag filled with bones.

A rough bag full of leaves and stems of an unknown plant.

A crude animal cage. Inside there are two dead rats a dead bat and a large number of healthy maggots feeding on the aforementioned corpses.

A badly water damaged book whose pages cannot be read.

A set of badly maintained scientific instruments, including a compass, measuring rods, quills and ink. With some repair, they could form a cartographer's toolkit.

A humanoid skull that has been cleaned and bleached white. It has a large, drilled hole in the center of the crown and several abyssal symbols are crudely carved into the temples.

A long clock hand of dark metal, the end raggedly pointed and stained with old blood.

A dusty glass bottle that still holds a few drops of viscous red liquid.

A page torn from a hymnal book dedicated to a god of war.

A clay tablet with indecipherable symbols.

A padlock that any key can open.

A bundle of crumpled papers, each having a partially completed love poem on them. Most of the words are scribbled out and are illegible, but the intended recipient appears to be a woman by the name of Neurelia.

The skull of a bird with an iron nail driven through it.

A crude wooden mask featuring a head crest of branches. The entirety of the mask is scorched wood and it smells like charcoal.

A beaten crate filled with rotted children’s clothing and old toys.

An alligator skull that reeks of sulfur and bog water. The druidic rune for “Preserve” is carved into the forehead.

A stone statue of a goblin, paper-thin and hollow. If the statue is broken, goblin bones tumble out.

A rusty dagger with a blade that is wildly unsuited for any sort of cutting whatsoever. Dangling from the pommel-nut is a leather thong strung with teeth and walnut shells.

A latticed or deformed stone that's possibly a meteorite

A malformed doll with a strange leer that wears a sackcloth dress.

A stitched up bear composed of multiple parts from different teddy bears.

A lady’s brush, elegantly carved of ivory with boar bristle. The ivory is stained and cracked, and many of the bristles are missing.

A hefty book full of notes written by many authors and inserted pages from other books. There are bite marks and slashes on the covers and some dirt might slip from between the pages when shaken.

A wizard's spellbook that was enchanted to repel liquids. Unfortunately, the enchantment is so strong that the pages cannot be written on rendering it completely unusable.

A reasonably shiny pebble.

A plank of wood whose knots and grain, crudely (At best) depict a lesser known deity of Random Domain.

A corroded metal cylinder bearing forbidden writing. The runic script bears little coherence, appearing like mad ramblings about the things beyond.

A set of brass lockpicks that couldn't possibly fit into any known style of lock.

A sheaf of poorly rendered sketches made by children.

A torn flag of an ancient city long since fallen into ruin.

A dissected and flayed corpse of a tiny fey creature.

A syringe with a squared-off crystal barrel. The plunger, flange, and needle hardware are nickel alloy ornately etched in twining, serpentine coils. Though it has no needle, and the plunger no longer seals, it is finely made, given its age.

A rotting quarterstaff made of oak wood. The staff has grips wrapped in slimy brown ape skin.

An old pair of trousers that are almost entirely made of patches and stitches, having been kept in service long past their time.

A crooked rod of dark wood with a possum skull lashed to the top.

An antique sword, rusted to its mildewy scabbard.

A length of heavy rusty chain, entangled in an impossible knot.

A thick waxy candle the colour of sickly pallid skin. When burned, the smoky odor of roasting ghoulflesh fills the room, ideal for setting the mood for foul necromantic rituals, preparing volunteers for human sacrifice, and all manner of depraved acts involving corpses.

A large bird's nest that has human finger bones woven into it.

A thick shirt of coarse brown horsehair.

A small leather pouch containing a double handful of seemingly fresh tree nuts, still in their shells.

An ugly gray wine skin, heavier than it looks, sloshes and gurgles in response to any movement.

A large, cast pewter vial containing a quantity of strangely textured sand. It clumps and sticks in a single doughy mass.

A piece of parchment bearing an unusual symbol drawn in iridescent green ink.

A long and tangled piece of twine with tiny brass bells knotted into it every few feet.

A dingy, brown leather collar with a sea serpent branded along its length is stuck on a jagged piece of splintered wood.

An intricate and spiky ball of cat and rat whiskers.

A heavy shot glass with a cat's face carved into the bottom.

A copper coin with a small hole drilled at the top and attached to a long length of fishing line.

A small, stained sack with a crudely painted figure of a halfling on the side. Opening the sack releases an odour that invokes tears and gagging to those nearby. The sack itself contains a number of crude items designed to disguise a goblin as a halfling. Laying the kit’s inventory out on the ground, you assess its value as a tool for subterfuge and determine a figure of zero. The wig leaves an odor of wet dog on your hands. The goblin disguise kit contains the following items: a chopped and damp wig made from worg fur, flesh-toned paste that burns when applied, a set of incomprehensibly disgusting false teeth, a canvas tunic with a poorly painted “shirt front,” and a pair of greasy gloves.

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

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The Ballad Of Me & My Brain • The City | Mini Series / m.h. of The 1975 x OC

a/n; I’m just uploading work from my Wattpad archives (user: sunphazed) this is a series I was working on and stopped and I kinda have hopes to start it up again. Who knows? Anyways, enjoy xx

WARNING; this story in includes triggering materials

Matty's POV.

The steel blue of the night sky collided with the amber gold that reflected from the lustered glass lamp on my night stand. I lied there, my hands behind my head as my body sunk into the chilled sheets beneath me. I sighed. Grabbing my menthols from between the box spring and the bed. My mind swarmed in a cloud of thoughts. I sat up a bit, bringing the flame of my zippo to fag rested on my lips. It's glistening exterior, warming the profile of my face as I held it close. The crumble of the paper disintegrating when I inhaled, exhaling slowly as I watched the swirls of slated smoke. Cut through the spring breeze of the cracked window, moving like the sleep I needed but couldn't grasp.

I looked on, tracing out the room I have began to call home in the little matter of weeks. Cream, dingy walls that held the thoughts of the past human once staying here. My handy work at it's lowest. Small snippets of the bands that played out while on a aimless route to nowhere, poorly hanging over my dresser. To a Polaroid of my baby brother that I selfishly left behind. Only to know it would be best cause he doesn't need a bloke like me around.

Back home my room was a shade of baby blue that was beginning to fade from it's age. Large posters of Sid Vicious, Morrissey. My shitty handwriting on spiral book paper, of my writings or of the writers that helped me to stay existent. Where I stayed up all hours like now, pondering. Thinking of my next move.

Beginning to think about the life I was familiar with before Handforth. My mum paying a visit today was a bit overwhelming. Feeling my mum's red dipped hands draping over mine, watching her smile, radiantly. I missed her and her home cooked meals. All reassuring that she was trying to comprehend this. Keeping it together as she was ready to unravel and question this stale institution.

Mike didn't tag along which I didn't want to see him anyways. Louis was at secondary and I was glad. It was warming to hear that he was doing well, picking up lacrosse and my mum called him out on playing my records. I would have loved to see him, but I wanted him to remember the goods back home. Not having to explain why I left home to begin with.

They haven't gotten the full extent on why I ran away, at least not like Ms. Palermo has heard. Being that if I stayed one more day in Cheshire. The door to my room would've been cold, metal bars. So it was safe covering it up with the story of the 'divorce' and that school wasn't cutting it. I didn't want to watch my mum's unsure sensitivity knotted into her smile, worsen by my dismay. Like the way it did when I told her I didn't want to go home.

I took another long drag, feeling my cheeks dent and the inhale sugar coat my lungs. Running my fingers through my jet black mane. I roused, taking a few steps to my window as the thoughts progressed. I followed the constellation of streetlights outside my room, remembering how on nights like this. I'd be sneaking out the window of my room. Venturing out to the city and sneaking into clubs my fake ID would allow. Ending up back in my bed before my family noticed, sometimes ending up in the beds of others. Women preferably of course. Which reminded me.

My vision derailing to the same amber luminous glow scattered in mine. Coming through the glass panes of the room in west hall. Emma's room. She was casually sitting on her sill, aimless looking up at the sky and all of it's beaded stars. Seeing that she was doing the same as me, pondering as the smoke left her lungs and into the night air. Emma has been a key entertainment since I've settled here. Finding her and I sneaking into each others rooms. To listening on low the beat up records the center supplied in the common hall. Discovering that had bit more in common than shagging about in the janitorial

I admired Emma. Her brazen tude, the denim short skirts she wore. The visionary mind above her shoulders, that bleed out on crisp thick paper. Watching as her silver covered fingers clasped around charcoal, pursued something bright. Noticing from time to time as her handwork slowed and a shade of rouge painted her porcelain cheeks. Today was no different than before, as I admired her. But earlier crossed my mind again. Remembering that I hadn't seen her wandering after her visitors stop by.

As my mother talked about the neighbourhood and the Spring festival coming up this Saturday. I surpassed her as I watched the other table near by. Emma with her visitors. One deeming as her mother. The same shade of honey dipped blonde, mirroring the same beam that I seen on Emma. Adorned in a pretty flowy top over white capris and sandals. Talking as I could word out simple things like 'I'm fine' and 'Okay'. Catching up and probably hearing the same lecture I was getting.

I glanced over a few more times, I was beginning to notice the dark hair figure that accompanied her mum. Broad shoulders, a dirty hippy as some would say in his Stones shirt. Old ripped jeans and beat up sneakers. Possibly her dad but there was no baring resemblance when sitting next to her mother.

Questioning why she never made eye contact with the man. Instead looking like she was going to hurl, on the verge of combustion as her lip became a chew toy. Following Emma turning in and disappearing into the depths of her room. I wondered why she acted in this manner. Why her blatant aura was flattened and defeated. Then it hit me. I placed the last of my cigarette into the cup with a drop of water. Looking down at my Docs that I had intentions to kick off, soon be double knotted. Throwing on my leather overlay and headed out to her room.

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

Emma's POV.

My mind was still trying to wrap around today. A visit that I awaited on Tuesdays. Once excited to see her. Now being replaced with a stab to my gut when she wasn't alone this time. Instead bringing the man that drove me away. Feeling myself in knots as he sat next to me, his eyes etching me out. Gazing at the clock for it to strike two so he could stop resting his viscous hand on my knee.

I thought she believed me. Specially when she told me that she made Frank leave after I confessed my reasoning for leaving. I thought I was noticing progress in myself, possibly even announcing that I wanted to come home. Something that I know she has been waiting to hear for months. Only to have that suggestion came to a immediate halt. I isolated myself in this room that was beginning to feel less safe as now my worst nightmare knew where I was.

Nothing being able to subside it, not even when I sat pretzel legged in front of the jimmied, handmade easel I built. With legs of a table I snuck in from Angry Andy flipping months earlier. Laces from my talking All Stars and nail polish that I remembered worked as an adhesive in my secondary Science course. I would've had half a portrait of a homeless man I seen on the street. Outlined and sketched, possibly shading in his evening shadow around his jaw. I never cried so much in the months I've been here like today. God, I was supposed to be making someone's life miserable than living in my own misery.

I grabbed the box of cloves in my shoes, misplaced under my bed. When the weakness of my limps felt like they had lifted. My feet met the carpet, suddenly rising again when I sat on my window sill. Gazing out at the night that had came upon rapidly than some before. Counting the cars that drove by when wishing on stars obviously didn't work for shit. I exhaled the sweet departure of the clove that lingered on my lips briefly. Cracking the pane a bit, as the smoke immediately evaporated within the gusts of Spring. I felt my shoulders slump as I sighed into another exhale.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow walking in front of the window. Of the room in south wing I found myself in from time to time. I had a feeling that Matty may have connected two and two together earlier on. Sometimes feeling his whiskey eyes on me as I began to feel small from the blue eyes stabbing at me like daggers. Matty knew a jist of my past, nothing extravagant but only enough to explain why I lied with him most nights.

He was learning though, just in the way his expression changed. When I met his gaze and all I wanted to do was cry. He knew this as that gaze trailed to my quivering lip that I was trying so hard to contain between my teeth. Or maybe he didn't? By this time, I would've heard the jiggle of my doorknob rotating. The boy with so many questions and seeking so many answers, seeing his figuration peering through the doorframe.

Eventually coming to conclusion that the casual fornication that Matty and I indulged in. Never amounted to anything past that line as he still looked out his window. Then again, that was my fault for wanting to feel different under the touch of someone else. I stood up from the window, with the clove still hanging from my lips.

Dragging my feet against the vomit colored gray carpet before towering over my dresser. Reaching into the top draw, pulling out the coral oversized shirt that could set out as a nightgown. Placing it on the top of it as I looked up at the mirror hanging on the wall. Taking my hair between my hands as I worked an upward motion to place it in a band.

That's when I heard the usual jiggle of the knob. My eyes meeting the boy dressed in black, head to toe as he entered my room lightly.

"Hey" He greeted little ways above a whisper. Holding up the door, there was something about this dark mass that crept up on me at night. His jet black hair, pushed back on top the center of his head. His leather jacket hanging steady over his broad shoulders, how his tee shirt and jeans hug properly over his build. Only wanting to tear each article off like the night before, because he looked so good and I was sick of it. But tonight, I wasn't much for it.

I looked away after I perfected a messy bun, shaking my head as I went to grab my shirt off the dresser. "I'm not in the mood." I remarked, a bit annoyed that he probably came here with those intuitions. I was wrong, profoundly.

"I'm not either." He replied, then.

My eyes meeting him again, following him as he trailed over to my closet. Noticing that he was bringing out my jean jacket. I placed my hands onto my dresser, my brow rising a bit. Watching as he stepped a bit closer, with a smirk paired with intentions I was oblivious to. "We're getting out of here." He stated, placing the jacket over my shoulders. Feeling the heat of his hands as they lingered above the fabric.

A rush of shock came over me, almost obliterated in the rush that consumed me. I wasn't sure if it was from the plan or the way it left his lips. My mouth went haywire, "W-what?" I questioned, then.

"There's cameras everywhere.... What if they notice us missing?" I began, then. My mind flooding because what if we couldn't come back after they had found us gone. Being taken out of my own thoughts when Matty placed his hands on mine that were moved in exaggeration with my talk.

Obviously the worry not consuming him like it did me. Matty's chuckled rippled softly through the amber lit room. I followed as he backed up, "You're worried about being caught?" He raised his brow at me. Feeling my cheeks warm from the slight memory of what he was talking about. I shook my head, prying my hands away, walking towards my bed.

"What about Ms. Astrich?" I spoke once more, before I spun to face him again. She was the supervisor at night, sitting at the front desk. Waiting for some sort of trouble made by the kids here. "Did you think about how fast I got here?" He mentioned, explaining that she was either asleep or off in another wing. Matty just happened to get by in good time.

"Why would I think that?" I exclaimed, folding my arms across my chest. "I seen you watching me." He noted, only to roll my eyes at how cocky he could be sometimes. Even if it was partially true, but I wasn't the only accomplice.

"You're a jerk." I remarked, my brows furrowing at him as he chuckled. "You were watching me too." Catching him off for a split second before he shrugged, "What's your point?" He questioned back. We were silent for a moment, looking everywhere else but each other as our thoughts spoke among us. Matty just sighed, breaking my train of thoughts when I noticed his dark silhouette heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my hands dropping to my sides. "I'm going out, like I said." He replied once more. Feeling this sudden sting near my chest when he said that, still not understanding why. Only thinking about how this might be the last bit of conversation I'd have with him.

I peered out the window near us, biting my lip in the same moment. I hadn't stepped into Wilmslow in months. I felt that I had lost all direction that made me street smart. A part of me was my adrenaline overflowing. I wanted to do this, bathe myself under the moonlit sky and do anything that made me feel sane again. The other was the fear of what to actually expect, and the stress I felt earlier holding me back like a strap on a bed.

When I turned back to Matty, he was inches away from me now. The light of outside glistening against his face, watching it dance as he moved his hand near my cheek. Moving some of my hair behind my ear that had freed itself from my bun. "Do you trust me, Em?" Falling nonchalantly. I chuckled a bit at how loosely it did too. Only to be dumbfounded by my return of an answer.

"Yes." I replied, then. Meeting his eyes that swirled in rich golds and browns around his dark pupils. Finding a sincerity in them, something I never found in my lifetime. Knowing that I caught a grasp of it. "Come with me then." He said again.

I gazed at him as he watched me sit on the bed, grabbing my shoes from underneath. Admiring his expression as it relaxed, only displaying that he was nervous too. Not having much of an idea of what we were getting ourselves into.

"So," I said, jumping to my feet after I laced up chucks. Properly placing the jacket he rested on my shoulders, around my arms. "Where are we actually going?" I asked, as silence filled in the gaps between us. Waiting for some type of shrug to play off his toned upper body. I draped my crossbody over my chest. Looking back up at a smiling Matty, a smile that only implied that he knew exactly where we were heading now.

"The City."

#mine #slutforbritdick #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagines #matty healy x oc #the 1975

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fandomfic-galore · 5 years

Text

But it's my day off.

Part two

Warnings: swearing. Slight smut. Witch things. Demons.

A/N I started this sober and finished it drunk so yeah have fun haha

You had green things, flying out of your hands. Y/n that's so cool” Peter said with excitement all over his face.

You were stood frozen in your spot. Peters excitement took you by surprise.

”care to explain yourself y/n?” Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest.

”no not really boss” smirking you wanted all of this to go away and now!

Paimon was behind you stirring as he woke up. Turning and kneeling in front of him, you wanted answers.

”couldn’t just leave me alone, could you?” you whispered to the demon king.

”now why...would I come to earth and not visit my ex.” he laughed at your expression. Why did he have to say that aloud?

”ex?” Steve said behind you. You swallowed the lump in your throat hard. Not moving from in front of the demon. You needed this demon do return to hell.

”oh yeah, y/n and I go way back. She tried to send me back to hell. But I fell in love with me instead… You see this little witch is the most powerful natural witch on earth. She is the only one who can send me back!”

”WITCH?” Every team member shouted behind you. With a cackle and a puff of smoke, Paimon vanished.

Hours had passed since the Avengers had discovered you were a natural-born witch. Pete was over-excited. Tony and Bruce wanted to run every test under the sun. Wanda got annoyed and left. Bucky couldn't give two fuck, and Scott was just as excited, if not more, like Peter. Steve... Steve was cautious about you. He was sizing you up, trying to figure you out.

”so let me get this straight. You were born with these powers and...and... I can't believe it” Bruce said with exhaustion in his voice. Stunned you locked eyes with him.

”you turn into the Hulk. How can you not believe I have powers?” you started to get annoyed at their constant questions. One of the reasons you never told them.

”anyway, we need to find Paimon before he turns you all into his slaves” there was no emotion in your voice. No expression crossed your face as you knew this was serious. Paimon had to be stopped before he caused some serious harm.

Getting up, you looked around the kitchen. Some of Paimon blood was on a wall. Crouching down, you became face to face and focused your energy. You couldn't locate him. It was as if he had returned to hell. He wouldn't go with fanfare, so that wasn't possible.

”so y/n...can you move things with your mind?... Can you read minds?..are you reading mine right now?...can you fly… Do you fly on a broomstick?” Pete neverending questions did make you laugh a little and brought some light to this ridiculous situation. Shaking your head towards him, his questions kept coming. ”do you have a spellbook?. Can I see it? Do you make positions? Have you ever turned anyone into a toad?”

Stopping in your tracks, Pete ran into you. ”no, but I have turned someone into a worm” you stated with all seriousness looking dead in his eyes. Gulping, he lowered his head more, knowing what to do. Reaching a hand on his shoulder ”Pete. I never did that, I like the questions, but right now we have a demon to send back to hell.”

The rest of the day was filled with Pete and Scott never leaving your side, fascination written across their faces. Steve still kept his distance. Tony tried to get you to do the test, saying it was part of your job description.

Laying down on the sofa in the massive common area. Steve approached you, looking at him upside down.

”We need to catch pieman.”

”paimon?”

”Yeah, I didn't like it when, when he said about your history” Steve looked away. The two of you had grown close over the past couple of months, and it seemed he was jealous of Paimon.

”look it was years ago. All I want to do is send him back to hell. However, I need a couple of things.”

He looked at you waiting for you to continue.

”I can't get them until it's Halloween though so get some rest. If you super-soldiers, do that?” laughing at you, Steve, joined you on the sofa. Moving your legs over his lap, he rested his head back and stroked your legs ever so softly until you fell asleep.

Waking up on Halloween you could the veil had been dropped the realm between the living and dead was open. It was the perfect time to send Paimon back to hell.

Walking into a conference room one, which is an actual conference room and not a kitchen you handed out each member of the team a list

”ok so dead man's fingers mean the plant not actual fingers off a dead man Tony,” you said walking to the top of the table. ”so Tony, Bruce and Wanda can you get items 1-5. Pete, Scott and buck can you get 6-10. Steve, you're me, 11-15. Got it. Right get going, we only have a few hours.”

”a green toads salvia are you sure y/n” Steve questioned as he followed you through a zoo.

”pretty certain. I've done it once. I can do it again.”

A few hours passed, and the team had collected back into the conference room.

”bubble bubble toil and trouble.”

”shut up, Peter” you scolded him as you dropped all the items into a pan on the stove.

The final item of the year mans fingers dropped in, and the potion banged with a puff of smoke. ”done” you stated trumpethly

Steve stepped forward as you bottled the potion. ”I'm coming with you y/n” stopping in your tracks you started to laugh.

”Steve you're a super soldier, not a witch. You... He might kill…”

”its not up for discussion.” you tried to say something but decided not against it.

Standing in a dark empty room with a pentagram sketched out facing north. You chanted the spell to summon Paimon. In a blink of an eye, he appeared in front of Steve.

”well, well, well. The Captain is here protecting his girl.” scuffing Steve threw daggers at the demon in front of him.

”if only you had the guts to tell her how you feel. Maybe I should…” a black puff of smoke engulfed Steve's face and entered his nostrils. ”I will go back on my own accord, but you two have fun tonight.”

Dropping the glass bottle. Steve's eyes turned black. ”y/n I need you. Now”

”have fun” with that Paimon disappeared. The darkness that filled the air left with him.

Steve, with significant strides, edged towards you. Grabbing your neck his lips found yours. This wasn’t Steve. You shouldn’t be doing this. But my god you wanted it. You have wanted this for so long but never dared to do anything.

Both of Steve’s hands cupped your ass. Lifting you up, you wrapped your legs around his middle. You walked you both to the nearest wall. His lips attacked your neck.

“Steve” you moaned. Grabbing onto his hair.

“Guys are you done. The movie is about to start” Bucky shouted through the closed door.

“This isn’t over.

#avengers smut.#avengers fanfiction #swearing #eventual smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 5 years

Text

The New Prosthetic

@evilwriter37

Summary: HICCUP WHUMP! Post-RttE, Pre-Httyd 2! Hiccup built himself a new prosthetic leg and he wanted to try it out. Naturally, new creations are bound to have some kinks.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 3 585

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Dislocated Joint

Author’s Notes: Here it is! My very first prompt from my @badthingshappenbingo card!

I actually handled this one a little bit differently than my other fics. Instead of checking the spelling and posting it immediately after finishing it, I let it rest for almost a week before checking for errors. I feel like that helped me a lot with this one.

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Hiccup felt the tiny flutters of butterflies in his stomach.

Inventing always made him feel like a kid all over again. The initial idea, sketching each design, planning them out, working with his own two hands in the forge... Whenever he smelled the charcoal of his pencils or the metal and smoke of the forge, his heart usually skipped a beat. Everyday stenches that others might find unappealing, but which brought him a sense of familiarity, joy, even comfort on a bad day.

Especially whenever he finished something new, that was when he felt the most thrilled. When a project finally came into fruition and his hard work had ultimately paid off after hours, days, sometimes even weeks of work.

It was an exhilarating kind of feeling that he never tired of and his latest work was special to him.

He made a new prosthetic for himself. A metal leg that could double as a multi-functional tool. Complete with a regular foot that allowed running, a lockpick, a foot for more difficult terrain and one that connected to Toothless' saddle.

It helped him to lay flatter and still be able to correctly manoeuvre the artificial tailfin. This, in turn, enabled them to fly even faster, it made Hiccup a smaller target, let him move his foot out of the stirrup effortlessly, moving gracefully in the sky as one simply became so much easier.

And if this new prosthetic worked, perhaps he could invent something for Gobber as well.

He wasn't too opposed to seeing more Hiccup-y devices pop up in the forge now and again.

But before Hiccup could begin on a new arm or leg for his mentor blacksmithing, he needed to test out his own metal limb first.

And that is why Hiccup had left the house so early in the morning.

Before his dad awoke, the sun was up, the local baker baked his first loaves for the market, Hiccup and Toothless were already up and out the door.

The Night Fury sniffed the new prosthetic Hiccup wore on his stump. Though unfamiliar, it smelled of his Rider and it looked like one of his contraptions as well. He knew Hiccup's handiwork by now.

"So, what do you think, Bud?" Hiccup asked, standing up from the rock he had been sitting on in order to pull it on and showed it off.

Toothless crooned, giving him a reply as he kept his gaze on it. He was impressed, amazed even! Hiccup with his genius and his dexterous hands never ceased to surprise him. Every single time the young man managed to surpass his previous creations and this was no different.

They were in the cove, the place where their friendship first started, and he remembered Hiccup having trouble climbing in and out of their little spot without his help. One of the new "feet", as they were called apparently, was supposed to help him with terrain he used to have a difficult time traversing. Snow and hidden patches of ice were especially troublesome for him.

Toothless was excited to see it work. Much like his Rider, he was always thrilled as well.

"You know, I think this might be my best work yet. And in time, I might actually be able to add on even more! Like a dagger! Gobber really enjoyed the pegleg with the hidden dagger that I gave him for his birthday." Hiccup was no stranger to insecurites, having many of them himself, but at least his ability to invent and create was something he was proud of and relied on quite often.

Toothless had heard enough. Moving, he pushed Hiccup's side with the flat top of his head and then his back, rumbling and crooning as he urged him to walk. He wanted to see this new leg in action already.

"Okay, Bud, okay! I'm going!" Hiccup chuckled and walked away.

He didn't go too far before turning around and coming back, pacing as he stared down at his feet. He wanted to truly feel the soft padding inside, see if there were already any noticeable kinks he should work on, he hoped it felt different from his previous metal leg.

And it did. Gobber had made him a wonderful leg four years ago, but this one, with the rounded off tip, allowed Hiccup to walk easier. It didn't quite work like a real heel, but he noticed he didn't walk as stiff anymore. This would do well to improve his gait.

Toothless crooned excitedly, approaching, circling and headbutting the human's shoulder. He already noticed the difference. Hiccup didn't limp quite as much as he did before either. He still limped, he was always going to, but he also managed to take note of the rounded tip's usefullness.

"So I guess you approve?" Hiccup asked him, judging by the Night Fury's reaction, his newest creation was a success so far.

Toothless purred, giving an almost human-like "yes", and licked him full on in the face.

"N-" While Hiccup was left to sputter and spit as he tried to use his red tunic to wipe his face, his armour had been left home for today, Toothless left his side. Half of that got in his mouth and it wasn't the most pleasant of tastes. Or smells for that matter.

The Night Fury wandered towards that rock Hiccup had been sitting on and gestured towards the saddle lying beside it.

It had been modified as well.

Significantly less wet, but hair still hopelessly matted to his forehead, Hiccup approached.

"Now, I guess it's time for me to show you why I took the saddle, huh, Bud?" He questioned and Toothless gave an impatient groan.

It has been days since their last flight. His Rider had told him then that he wanted to modify it and Toothless hadn't been too opposed, but now he was dying to be back up in the air again. He knew the other felt the same way.

Grabbing the saddle, Hiccup helped his dragon pull it on again.

"Bud, stay still, please? I can't put it on you if you move that much." He chuckled. It was hard for both of them to keep from moving, excited as they were.

As Hiccup pulled on the last buckle, Toothless noticed that the stirrup on his left wasn't quite the same as it once was.

It wasn't a stirrup at all anymore, there was nothing for Hiccup's metal foot to attach itself too.

His Rider noticed the dragon's confusion, Toothless crooned and gestured with his snout to the lack of a stirrup, lifting up his left foreleg. Tapping his shoulder, Hiccup drew his attention again.

"Watch this, Bud." He sat back down again, placed a hand on the wooden cup of his prosthetic and gave it a twist. The new metallic foot disappeared and in its place came a different kind of creation, something that looked like it could attach itself to the saddle and then the lack of a regular stirrup made sense to Toothless.

Gurgling happily, Toothless urged Hiccup to stand and get in the saddle already. It was time to test the new leg up in the sky.

Hiccup didn't need to think twice before climbing up, Toothless practically bumped him onto his back with his snout nudging his Rider's rear.

Once seated and secure, Hiccup clicked his leg into the new stirrup, enjoying the satisfying 'click' it made, and grabbed hold of the handles. The two braced themselves and with a big flap of the dragon's wings and a jump, they were up.

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After spending the past few days stuck on the ground, the sky was a wonderful place to be in again. A welcoming place. Though it did make Hiccup wonder how he managed to live the first fifteen years of his life without Toothless and their ability to fly together as one.

Hiccup inhaled deeply and then breathed out again, the always present scent of the salty sea down below filling his nostrils. The wind combed through his hair and his clothes billowed. Toothless did the same thing, savouring the soft carressing of his scales and the near weightlessness of his body so high up in the air.

It felt good to be here. An unseen weight seemed to lift off their shoulders, like they were free again.

There were other dragons up there with them. Nightmares and Nadders who had also made Berk their home these past couple of years. It felt good to be more amongst them too. Off the ground and into the air, where they both belonged.

Hiccup adjusted his prosthetic slightly, approving of how it held up so far. Toothless raised a foreleg as he took a look, he purred.

"Yeah, it's holding up great so far!" Hiccup answered, feeling confident in his newest creation. This new method to connect his metal leg and the saddle together, it was to further improve their manoeuvrability. So far it wasn't too difficult to steer Toothless' artificial tailfin with it.

But they needed to really test it. Now that they knew it could hold up in a normal flight, it was time to find some way to experiment and truly see where its limits lie.

And Hiccup found just the thing.

"Hey Bud, look up there!" Toothless looked up and saw what his Rider was talking about.

A bunch of young Nadders, adolescents, playing in the sky. They were chasing each other.

"Should we ask them if we can join in?" Hiccup knew these Nadders and they knew them. He had watched them grow up this past year.

Toothless roared to draw their attention and flew higher, the small group of six halted momentarily to watch the two familiar Dragon Riders approach.

Nadders were born with lighter colours than they usually have as adults. They were slowly shedding their pastel scales for a more vibrant hide.

"Hey guys, mind if we join?" Hiccup wasn't so sure he'd have had the guts to just go up to a group of friends and ask this in the past, before Toothless. But not only had he grown more confident, these were also a group of dragons. A people he felt more at home with.

And like he and Toothless had hoped, the six adolescent Nadders chirped eagerly in agreement. One did a roll in the sky and off they were, chattering of teasings and taunts as they dared the two to chase them. It was a game of tag apparently.

"Come on, Bud." Hiccup adjusted himself in the saddle, excitement swelling up in his chest. A deep and eager rumble vibrated from within the Night Fury, Hiccup could feel it from his position on his back.

Though the young dragons flew far and fast, it wasn't hard for them to catch up.

This game of tag, while also commonly played by Viking children, was a little bit different than from what Hiccup used to play as a very young boy.

High up in the air, dragons couldn't physically touch one another without the risk of downing each other. The slowest of the dragons would be caught and roared at, making them the one who was "it". No actual tagging, just roaring as one dragon passed the other by.

It wasn't hard for Hiccup and Toothless to catch up to the Nadders and relieve themselves of the role of "it". Though they were fast, a Night Fury was faster. One half of this Dragon Rider duo being this exact species could almost be called cheating.

It was virtually impossible to catch Hiccup and Toothless with how in-tune the two were with each other. They sped up, slowed down, dived and swerved, but adolescent dragons liked a challenge. The young Nadders knew before accepting their request to join the game that they would be difficult to catch.

A roar of laughter left Hiccup as he and Toothless barrel rolled in the sky and it was like music to the latter's ears. Their hearts soared together. Those days spend stuck on the ground, even if it was for one of his projects, had been much too long.

Though the world was spinning, Hiccup looked towards where the Nadder youngster had been left behind and noticed there was already quite a bit of distance between them. Dizziness or nausea, he felt neither of them.

"Okay, Bud, time to turn back." Toothless could hear his Rider even through the loud rush of the wind. The barrel rolls gradually ceased up high in the air and the two started a freefall.

The way down was a long one, but it was over all too soon. Falling with the wind tossing them around, they never felt more in control.

As the ground rapidly approached down below, Hiccup gave his Bud a warning pat on his neck to even out.

That is when their game came to an abrupt end.

Toothless spread his wide wings, Hiccup put the tailfin in the right position and with the sudden stop in velocity, the shock made a tear in the leather straps keeping the saddle in place.

With a yelp, Hiccup was thrown forwards and the tailfin shut itself. The two were in a freefall once more, the adolescent Nadders aware of the trouble, but too far away to be of much help.

The ground was much too close.

"Tooth-" Hiccup never felt the impact. The moment they crashed, it became dark before his eyes.

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He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Hiccup was pretty sure he couldn't have been out for more than a couple of minutes.

Lying in the grass, sore and bruised all over, he could hear his Night Fury's crooning as he drifted back to the world of the conscious after having left it for just a moment. Toothless' voice helped lead him back.

"Hmm, Tooth?" He slurred, moving just a tad to roll onto his back. He had been lying on his side and he wanted to open his eyes, face his Bud.

Toothless gave a quick warning growl and that was when a sharp pain abruptly and agonizingly ran through him, starting at his leg and moving up through his hip.

A strangled cry left him, his face contorted in pain and he ended up on his back anyway, breathing deeply as tears sprung to his eyes.

He opened them and the first thing he saw was Toothless staring back at him, his nose twitching as it did four years earlier when he woke up after the battle with the Red Death.

Toothless crooned and pressed his snout into his Rider's freckled cheek before bringing it down to sniff his body to seek out any hidden injuries. His attention consistently on just one part of Hiccup's body.

Hiccup lifted his head up to look down at himself to see what his dragon was staring at and cringed.

His left leg was not supposed to be at that angle.

His new prosthetic, the clasp that kept it attached to the saddle was supposed to have come loose during a fall, allowing Toothless to grab hold of him safely and saving them both from a possibly very fatal blow. That had been the biggest problem with his previous replacement, a problem he had attempted to fix with this new one.

Failing its purpose, Hiccup found that his leg and Toothless' saddle were still connected. As a result, his left knee, the weaker one of the two, had been painfully dislocated.

Hiccup continued to take deep breaths, both in and out. The pain didn't lessen one bit. He could only imagine what it looked like without his leather leggings.

It had already been there when he woke up, but it hadn't been as severe as it was now after he's moved. Toothless was lying next to him, remaining still because he'd realized the state of his Rider's leg while he was out and didn't want to make it any worse.

Lifting his head up for another look at their situation, still attempting to calm his laboured pants, Hiccup wondered just how they were going to get out of this one. Every little move made hurt so much.

But he found the reason for their crash. A strap on the saddle, the stitching worn by strain and weather had torn and come loose. He had been meaning to replace them.

"Gods..." He moaned and put his head back down. This was such a mess they were in now.

Toothless prodded his cheek with his snout. He wanted to provide comfort, but instead the movement made, though it was so little, hurt so bad.

"Toothless!" Hiccup cried out, but jumping at the pain only made the pain even worse. This was becoming an awful cycle.

Mumbling an apology, Toothless put his head down, deciding to try even harder to stay still. Humans didn't have as high a pain tolerance as dragons did and this was a particularly nasty injury.

Hiccup needed a moment. Closing his eyes, he tried breathing through the agony. So long as neither of them moved, it was bearable.

The two Dragon Riders than heard the chirping of worried dragons and looked up to see the young Nadders approaching.

The group of six landed and much like humans surrounded them in concern. Hiccup could've sworn he saw them cringe in their own way upon seeing the state he was in. Even they knew a human's leg wasn't supposed to bend that way.

Though he didn't want an audience, Hiccup supposed they might be able to help in some way. They chattered amongst themselves and Toothless, seemingly discussing what to do next.

"Hey-hey!" Hiccup moaned, moving carefully to lean on his elbows and trying his best not to look at his knee.

He could ask them to get help, to find the other Riders. He knew Astrid and Snotlout had patrol today.

But the adolescent Nadders apparently already had some ideas of their own. Chittering and screeching, hissing and flexing their dangerous spines, they appeared to be arguing. Hiccup's call for their attention fell on deaf ears.

Hiccup often found himself wishing he could understand what dragons were saying and this was one such time. What could they possibly be having such a heated discussion about?

By the time Hiccup realized one of them bend down and reached for his leg, it was already too late for both him and Toothless to stop them when a green Nadder took his prosthetic and pulled it loose. That had been their master plan to get the Dragon and Rider untangled from each other.

All six of the Deadly Nadders jumped back when a pained scream tore out from Hiccup's lungs. It appeared they hoped pulling on the fake part of the leg wouldn't hurt as much.

Now lying flat on his back again, Hiccup covered both of his eyes and clenched his teeth down on one another.

It hurt. That was all he could think about, how much that hurt.

Removing one hand, he peered at the Nadders through his blurred vision.

"I'm... I'm okay." He was lying and choking up, but he didn't want them to feel guilty. It helped the green Nadder feel better again as it had shrunken back after hearing him scream.

Now free, Toothless moved, standing up and sniffing his Rider's face, but Hiccup covered it again, breathing in and out deeply in the hopes of coping with the burning and throbbing sensation left in his knee.

The Night Fury gazed at the limb. Although the angle wasn't quite as ugly anymore, he knew that didn't lessen the pain in any way.

He faced the young Nadders and with a roar angrily chased them away, they had done more than enough already. The youngsters, not willing to argue with this dragon in particular, left in a hurry, nearly tripping over each other as they flapped their wings and made way for the skies.

"You didn't have to chase them away like that, they just wanted to help." Toothless could hear Hiccup mutter, but ignored his words. His Rider couldn't have heard it, but he had warned the six that it was a terrible idea.

Looking up into the sky, Toothless charged a plasma blast and send it flying. Its purpose was to call for help. With all the dragons and Berkians around, somebody was bound to see it. Hopefully, one of the other Riders was already nearby.

Knowing that it couldn't even be minutes before help would arrive, Toothless decided to settle by Hiccup's side again.

Though somewhat recovered, there was still very little Hiccup could do besides lying there and scratching his Night Fury's chin. It was something he did for his own comfort as well.

Help couldn't be far.

Holding his breath, Hiccup managed to sit up and Toothless lied down behind him, allowing his Viking to lean back against him.

Looking up, they noticed that one Snotlout Jorgenson on top of a Hookfang Monstrous Nightmare were already headed their way.

Hiccup could only sigh. The sooner they got his leg taken care off, the better.

His dad and Astrid would chastise him and Gothi would probably advice him to stay at home or risk a whack of her staff, but Hiccup could only think of one thing, improve his prosthetic.

Next time they test it out, he'd make sure to put it through more thorough tests before taking to the sky once again.

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honeyjaez · 5 years

Text

Maze of Miroh- Chapter 10 “The End of a Family”

Hyunjin sprinted up the stairs, his face being overshadowed by his damp hair that fell in front of his eyes. He was being chased. By Dogs. By Agents. He didn’t exactly know, but needless to say things weren’t going exactly according to the plan.

As he reached another level he busted through the door and slammed it shut behind him, falling onto the ground in a heap of panting mess as he reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out his cell phone.

“Channie hyung….” he breathed after a few more moments. “We have a problem.”

Minho and Jisung sprang themselves into the small room, wanting to waste no time. The younger boy jumped towards the Master Computer which sat near the front and threw his laptop out on the table, immediately clacking away on its keys.

“What are you doing?”

Jisung didn’t stop typing at Minho’s question but momentarily looked back towards him by throwing his head in his direction.

“I’m looking for anything in their files that will tell me how to shut off the Electric field.”

Minho nodded “Good. While you are at it, see if there is anything about reversing what they did to him.”

Minho heard Jisung’s furious typing cease abruptly and he looked over to see the boy now standing still, his head facing straight ahead.

“Minho…” Minho heard Jisung’s voice trail off, detecting an unexpected uncertainty in his voice.

“There has to be a way” he interjected, knowing full well what was going to be said.

“…and what will you do when there isn’t?”

»»»»»»»

“I swear to fucking god Hyunjin if I hear that one more time …..”

“Channie hyung” the tall black haired boy interrupted “This is serious”

He knew his own voice was exposing his panic and his leader Chan picked up on that almost immediately.

“What is it?” he asked seriously.

“I know we said I would be the one to shoot the bombs off as a distraction” he started “but it would seem The Order is taking matter into their own hands. I witnessed their lead head of security start the fail-safe program.” Hyunjin’s voice trailed off as he continued to catch his breath on the floor. Chan hadn’t said anything so Hyunjin opened his mouth again, his voice genuinely concerned. “Hyung….this building is coming down, along with anyone still inside.”

»»»»»»»

“…and what will you do when there isn’t?”

Jisung’s words were so quiet that Minho had barley heard the words escape the younger lips. But sure enough, he caught them and he felt anger surge through him once again.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class Jisung?” he spat

Jisung spun around as Minho’s tone struck a chord within him and glared daggers into the elder. His brown eyes narrowed in annoyance and ….. Was that worry?

“Well if it’s sharing time then yes! Yes I do have something to say to you!” Minho watched as the boy placed his laptop on the table next to him, never once taking his eyes off of his own.

“You!” he started while pointing at Minho “For starters are an idiot with a death wish! I mean honestly! Why could you have just gone to the safe house like you were told? No you had to be an idiot and stay in the city. You had to be best friends with a fucking Miracle and YOU had to be the one to “tag along”” he emphasized those words by air quoting “Do I have something to say to you? Yes! Because of you, Changbin almost died! Hyunjin and Seungmin were taken hostage! They could have died! And now we are in so much shit! But all you can do is hide right? You are such coward letting us do all your work for you! Chan, Woojin and Innie, they are up there risking everything to get us out of here! But do you care? No! You don’t care about them, all you care about is Jeongwoo! Well I’m sorry to be the one that says this, but this single Miracle isn’t worth it!” Minho had gone frozen stiff during Jisung’s rant, but noticed that tears were flowing down the younger’s face as he yelled, almost as if the words he was saying hurt him too. Jisung knew this but made no attempt to hide it. “He isn’t worth them!” he managed to choke out.

Minho watched with slightly wide eyes as Jisung wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down. The younger let out a few shaky breaths before raising his head turning his gaze back on towards Minho’s.

“You need to stop being such a coward and prepare yourself for the inevitable.” He growled softly “Jeongwoo isn’t going to survive this. Realize that now before it breaks your heart later…”

Minho knew it deep down. He did. Just one look at the younger boy could spell out his fate to anyone and even if they do manage to get him out of here, unless they magically found Jeongwoo’s DNA again, the boy was still going to change. That or die.

Minho knew that. Of course he did.

But he couldn’t accept it.

Slowly, lifting his head, he turned his gaze to match the intensity of Jisung’s, feeling his fist tighten up into small balls. He could finally feel the weight of the day crash onto his whole body and he suddenly felt as tired as he should have been at the moment. He didn’t have much strength left in him and that spelled danger if they didn’t get out soon. Minho gave the younger boy a small sad half smile, his eyes brimming with unspoken sorrow.

“If…..” his voice choked up as he could feel tears threatening to fall “If it was one of them….if it was someone from your family” he started, staring directly at Jisung “Wouldn’t you do anything in the world to save them? Even if you knew it was a lost cause?”

Silenced filled the room as Minho watched the younger boys eyes widen, something obviously running through his brain.

But before he could ask, a loud ring echoed throughout the room and Jisung slowly went into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Chan?” Jisung’s voice broke slightly as he answered the phone and Minho was caught off guard at how frail and small he sounded.

Minho watched as Jisung’s eyes narrow, his face now grave.

“Understood”

Minho watched as Jisung hung up the phone, closing his eyes. After a few more moments, let out a shaky breath.

“ Whatever.Be useful and look for something like a switch. None of this will matter if we don’t get him out.”

Minho narrowed his eyes at the younger boy who now turned his back towards him, something not settling right in his gut. There was something he wasn’t telling him.

“What did Chan have to say?”

Jisung was as frozen as a statue, the only sound being that of his fingers on the keyboard typing more furiously than before.

“Nothing. Now hurry up. The sooner we free him the sooner we get out of here.” his voice was cold, his voice was hard. Minho knew right then and there that Jisung hated him more than anything. And for some reason the thought of that made him sad.

Minho nodded, feeling the tears forming in his own eyes. He spun back around and begun his search around the room, wanting to forget about the conversation all together. The room they were in was smaller than that of the main room the cages were staged in, but cluttered with various objects. Farther down the room from Jisung and the Computer were multiple panels that Minho noticed had some on, and some off. Minho walked closer and realized that the panels functioning had various readings on them that were reports on the state of the Miracles bodies that were still locked in their cages. His eyes searched for Jeongwoo’s name, but was stopped when his eyes noticed something in the corner.

It was a small touchscreen sitting on top of a pedestal like statue nearby. A switch sat underneath with the big letters that read electricity. There was an outline of a hand sketched out on top and Minho realized with a sinking feeling in his gut that the only way to deactivate the shield was by hand print. An Authorized hand print at that.

Slowly, he laid his hand over the outline, hovering slightly above. After a few more moments he sighed and retracted his hand back. No way was his hand print going to work.

“Jisung” he called. “I found the switch but we have a slight problem.”

He heard footsteps coming up alongside him and could feel Jisung’s presence next to him. Minho heard a small audible gasp escape the Younger boys lips as he registered what he was looking at, and placed his laptop down on the ground examining the pedestals base.

“Can you break it?” Minho asked quietly.

There was a few more moments of silence as Jisung’s eyes darted around the contraption before he let out a sigh and closed his eyes. “Maybe…. But I need time”

Minho felt his body temperature rise and he tensed his fists up.This was it. This was his one chance to rescue Jeongwoo.

You are such coward letting us do all your work for you!

Jisungs words ran through his mind and he stood back up, a few found determination in his eyes

He wasn’t going to let this moment slip from his fingers.

“What do you need?”

Jisung momentarily stopped fiddling with the base and looked up at Minho’s intense gaze, something flashing in them. But it was gone before Minho knew it and he watched as he reached behind him.

Jisung ripped something out of his backpack and unrolled it to reveal various tools . “Keep watch for me. With that alarm, we are sure to have company. Make sure no Agents get in here. If I can do this, and that’s a big IF, my computer will need to uninterrupted for at least 10 minutes.” His voice trailed off and was quiet for a few moments before continuing fiddling with his tools.

“Chan called” he said suddenly, not looking up. “It would seem The Order plans on blowing this place off the map……Chan…he ordered me to retreat….told me to take you back even if by force….and yet here I am.” he paused letting out a small laugh as if his words triggered a memory within him and looked up at Minho finally, eyes narrowed “Do you understand that? If my laptop get interrupted even once then that’s it. We’ve lost. Jeongwoo will die down here as the building collapses.10 Minutes Minho….. that or its game over.” he said, unscrewing the back panel.

Minho nodded, wasting no time in turning around towards the door. He was going to do this. Sure, he was terrified. The thought that the building could come down any second didn’t help his nerves much. But he was going to do this. He wasn’t going to let the fear overshadow him again.

All of a sudden it was then that Minho could hear a strangled noise coming from the main room. He shot out the door and rushed forward in the direction of the noise, realizing with horror that it was coming from Jeongwoo’s cage. As he rushed forward, he managed to catch glimpse of the boy, and what he saw, broke his heart.

Jeongwoo, still on the ground, was dry heaving and his whole body was juddering violently as he coughed up splatters of blood. He let out a shriek of pain as his hand went to his chest.

“Jeongwoo! Jeongwoo!” Minho shouted landing as close to him as possible without touching the cage. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at his tiny little boy suffering. Jeongwoo didn’t respond, but looked in Minho’s direction. The whites of his eyes now a sickly yellow color and he was sweating profusely as his chest rose up and down viciously.

“J-Jeongwoo” Minho never felt more hopeless than he did now. That split second of determination now washing away with Jeongwoo’s pained cries.

“H-hyung” his voice was so small, almost like a whisper as tears fell down his face. “D-Don’t-“

But his last words were drowned out by Jisung yelling at him from the doorway.

“Minho! Look out!”

It all happened so fast.

He heard Jisung’s shout a second too late and the next thing he felt was a pair of boots hitting him straight on his face. His body rolled violently in the air and he on the other side of the room, crashing into the bars of a cage and feeling the surges of electricity pulsating through his body again. All of his senses were lost to him as the pain took over. He landed with a dull thud, his body unmoving.

»»»»»»»

Chan chewed his bottom lip as he overlooked the scene below him. Agents flooded the entire area, guns at the ready as they ran about trying to evacuate the area. Their group had ditched the van in an attempt to flee before being surrounded, and now stood on the top of a roof nearby. Felix and Seungmin had managed to find them in the chaos and Woojin was off to the side examining Changbin’s wound while the younger boys watched over Innie as he slept nearby.

Chan was left alone to worry as fires erupted down below and more agents filled the streets.

“Dammit Jisung….” He said quietly “Where are you?”

»»»»»»»

Everything in Minho’s world was dark. A never ending tunnel. Slowly he regained his senses and could vaguely hear someone yelling his name. He tried to move but his body screamed at him in protest. His eyes fluttered open and through half opened lids, he could see the outline of someone standing nearby Jeongwoo’s seizing body. He blinked a few times as he regained control of his body more and more and noticed the stranger was wearing black from head to toe, his face fully covered by a black mask and hood. At his sides sat two twin daggers. Minho’s eyes widened as his eyes opened fully and he looked at the man who looked like he was straight out of a video game.

“W-Who are you?!” Minho weakly demanded, struggling to stand up.

But the masked man did not answer him, and chose to just stare down at Minho’s weak attempt to stand up, a near silence filling the air. Minho could still hear the pained wheezes coming from Jeongwoo and realized with horror that this stranger was the threat he had to face. He was here to stop them, and Minho couldn’t let him.

Minho shook off the pain as best as he could and slowly stood up, not taking his eyes off the masked man who in turned continued to look down at Minho’s injured form in silence. The alarm continued to blare, but all Minho could hear was the pounding of his heart in his chest and the blood roaring in his ear. His thoughts were running in circles as he tried to size his new enemy up. Fight someone? Sure! Shoot Agents with guns? Okay? But nobody said anything about swords! His hand went down to touch the cold steel of his gun. Guns won in sword fights right? His eyes flashed down to the twin daggers that sat on either side of the man’s hips. Even from here he could see the sharpness of them and audibly gulped.

“Go home”

The voice snapped Minho out of his thoughts. Something about his voice took him off guard. Whether it was the dark cold tone he used, or the way it trailed off at the end after he told Minho to go home. Something about it resonated with him but he didn’t know why.

Nor did he have no time to worry about it because suddenly and without warning, the masked figure rushed forward, not waiting for Minho’s answer and hit him with inhuman like speed. For a second time Minho felt a blunt force hit him square underneath his jaw, and he was launched in the air. He gasped out in pain as his back crashed into the wall behind him, bringing some of the dry wall with him as he fell.

“Weak”

The voice was so cold, so emotionless. Minho didn’t like it one bit. He looked up to saw the black figure standing over his own body now. Minho knew he needed to defend himself, he knew it, but the reality of being much weaker than his opponent set his fear into overdrive and Minho began to feel overwhelmed. His body was frozen on the stop as his eyes locked into the black eye holes. He could feel the fear flowing through his veins almost like a drug. He could vaguely hear Jisung yelling at him from afar to fight back but it was useless.

His body refused to move despite his fight or flight instincts and he knew he was in trouble.

Next thing Minho felt were a pair of hands encasing themselves around his neck as the masked man picked him up. He squeezed Minho by his throat as he lifted him in the air. He tried to fight back as his arms began to flail around desperately, the lack of oxygen waking him out of his frozen state. But he couldn’t get a good enough grip on the man’s arm and he knew he was losing oxygen quickly.

“You are too weak.” the voice said again, muffled slightly by the mask. Minho desperately grabbed for anything he could get a grip on but failed as he felt his body giving up. The blood roared in his ears, and he looked down at the stranger who was strangling him with one arm. He was relentless in his grip, and Minho could feel his eye lids grow heavier as the need for oxygen became too great. Soon, his desperate attempts to knock himself free of his grip began to cease and he felt his eyelids begin to close, the last bit of light landed on Jeongwoo’s still body.

…

And then just like that, the pressure on his throat was gone, his body slumping to the floor.

Minho let out a few strangled breaths as he regained his oxygen levels and looked up, letting out an out of breath gasp.

There. Standing in front of him. Clashing weapons against the masked man, was none other than Han Jisung, pushing hard against the man’s daggers.

Minho blinked a few times and realized that Jisung was wearing what he could only describe as brass knuckles on each hand. But unlike the normal gang related weapon, bolts of electricity shot out from their tips. If they weren’t in a life or death situation he would say it was rather cool looking.

“J-Jisung!” he choked out while trying to stand up. But pain shot through his side once again and he fell back on one knee.

“Tch!” he could hear Jisung click his teeth in annoyance while pushing harder against the villain. “What are you doing you idiot?! What did I say? This is out only chance! If he gets his hands on my computer then we won’t be able to save Jeongwoo! Why aren’t you fighting?!”

The two fighters continued to clash their weapons against each other, and Jisung grunted as he pressed back the masked man with one final push. The man stood still as he looked in Jisung’s direction. With a blink of an eye the man quickly sheathed one of his daggers and took fighting stance against the slightly out of breath Jisung.

“You’re too weak. You won’t win.”

Jisung let out a tired laugh and mirrors his stance, ready to charge. “At least I’m not wearing some stupid Halloween costume in June”

Minho watched as the two fighters stood at a standstill, neither of them moving.

“This place is already a goner” Jisung finally said, his tone calm. “The Order won’t miss one missing Miracle….especially not when they have sentenced the rest to death.”

The masked man flipped his sword around so that it was facing the other way. “I don’t care about the Miracles. Take them all for all I care. But he” he said while pointing his sword back at Minho “I’ve been given strict orders to take him, and I can’t fail.”

“Me?” None of this made any sense Why did they need him? Was it because he was a wanted man? Maybe that was it.

This caught Jisung off guard as well and his eyes flashed behind him towards an unsuspecting Minho “Orders? What were your orders?”

The man nonchalantly shrugged and took up stance again against Jisung, a dangerous stillness radiating off his body “If you manage to beat me, maybe I’ll tell you. But that won’t happen. I’ll kill you and then take your friend here to my boss.”

“Tch” Jisung spat quietly “You aren’t going to do either.”

The Minho stared at Jisung’s back, eyes narrowing in worry. The boy he thought was nothing but a brat was now risking his whole life, credit for himself, but Minho couldn’t help but think it was also for him and Jeongwoo as well. Up until now, Jisung had done nothing but pick fights with him, abet Minho didn’t help their situation either but his first impression of the boy was nothing good.

Now, eyes resting on his back, noticing the strong set of shoulders he carried, Minho couldn’t help but think that there was more to this boy. Something courageous. Something honorable.

His fists tightened.

But that only made it worse.

As if on Que, the masked man rushed forward, dagger poised and ready. But Jisung was ready for him and aimed one of his electrified fists to parry against the incoming dagger with unsuspected force. The masked man stagger back a few steps and Jisung used the opening to aim his other fist towards his stomach. Unfortunately the masked man predicted that and easily dodged it to the side, rushing back at him, this time with both daggers poised. His inhumane speed catching Jisung off guard just enough to where he was unable to dodge and had to meet the daggers head on.

There was a loud screech that echoed throughout the room as Jisung’s electric volts clashed against the hard metal and both fighters seemed to be expending most of their strength as they both panted hard. They were at a standstill, neither giving up. Finally the deadlock was halted when the masked man used one last act of force to push Jisung and monetarily confuse him enough to kick in squarely on his side. Minho watched, frozen, as Jisung’s body was flung off to the side but before he could do anything about it the man came at him again, this time wrapping his arm around Minho’s neck and getting behind him in the process, using his arm to push Minho farther into his chest, choking him in the process. Minho was stunned and he could feel a dagger up against his side.

“Now come with me.”

Minho tried to fight, he did, but his inexperience with this world, and the overall exhaustion was finally setting in, and he could barley manage to push the deadlocked arm away before securing it once again around his throat. His eyes flashed towards Jeongwoo’s still body. He knew the boy was still alive, he could see the faint rise and fall of his chest, but Minho knew he didn’t have much longer.

“J-Jeongwoo” he coughed out.

This seemed to catch the masked man’s attention and he made Minho take a few steps towards the cage, pointing a dagger at the small boy.

“Give up on him. He is a lost cause”

Minho violently shook his head, trying to rip himself free and away from his captor.

“What can you do?” The voice jabbed “You can’t save him. You can’t save anyone!”

The pressure around his body vanished and Minho spun around to see Jisung latch himself on the older man’s side, ripping him off of Minho and off to the side. Now Jisung stood in front of Minho, blood smeared around his mouth from the impacted into the ground. He gave a smirk to the masked man who staggered backwards.

“Don’t sell me out just yet you Halloween freak. He may be a bit useless, but I still have much more fight left in me.”

The masked man stared at Jisung, and even through the mask Minho could tell he was annoyed by Jisung. Once again, Minho felt a dangerous stillness radiate off the strangers body, but this time there was something more menacing to his stance compared to last time.

“Jisung” Minho tried warned, not taking his eyes off the powerful masked stranger.

“Shut up” Jisung spat back, causing Minho flinch. “You get no say here. Not unless you fight ba-“

Jisung was cut off with a grunt in a flash when suddenly the masked man appeared in front of him, almost like teleportation and jabbed a dagger into his stomach.

Minho’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening to call out the younger name but finding it dry. Jisung, who hadn’t moved yet, slowly looked down at the dagger impaled in his body.

“Jisung!” Minho cried out.

As if he heard his name, Jisung’s head slightly turned and locked his eyes with Minho’s desperation in his face as if he knew. “Idiot” he breathed quietly. “What are you doing? Protect the computer. Save Jeongwoo.”

Minho was about to respond, but almost as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone as the man pulled it out. That’s when Jisung crumpled to the ground in agony, the pain being too much. But he wouldn’t get a chance to rest because Minho watched with horror was the masked man kicked him when he was down – literally, sending him into the cages nearby. Minho could only watch as Jisung’s blood stained body erupted into sparks of electricity, as his whole body was electrocuted. After a few more painful moments, Jisung’s body peeled itself off from the cage and crumbled to the ground, motionless.

Minho could only stare on frozen stiff as the scene just replayed through his mind over and over again. The masked man seemed to stand back up from where he kicked Jisung and turned towards Minho.

“Now see what you did. He’s dead because of you. Come with me before anyone else kills themselves for you.”

If he was saying something, Minho didn’t seem to hear him, or rather couldn’t. All of his senses were focused on the motionless body that laid on the ground.

He was dead. Somebody good was dead. And not just anyone, but Jisung. Jisung was dead. And it was HIS fault.

It doesn’t matter if you do not want to be a part of this. The fight is coming. The fight is coming whether you want it or not.

Jisung’s words rang clearly though his mind as he stared wide eyes at the corpse. He was right. I didn’t want this fight. I just wanted to save Jeongwoo and Hyunjae. But now….

He clenched his fist and seethed in anger, his body shaking violently as he continued to star down at Jisung’s lifeless form, blood staining his shirt.

Who was this boy? This boy who would sacrifice everything, his family, his life, for something like him? And who was Minho to use this boy as a human shield? Why couldn’t he be bit braver? A bit more valiant? Why couldn’t he be more like Jisung? Like Felix?….like Hyunjae hyung? He wanted to be. He HAD to be.

Minho’s eyes landed in front of him, where Jisung’s knuckles landed after being flown off from the kick.

He was going to be.

As if the masked man could read Minho’s thoughts, he could see the figure rush towards him, but Minho was faster and managed to grab the knuckles, throwing them on and activating their electric currents just in time to hit the man directly in his neck area.

He stumbled back towards Jisung’s body, coughing up blood as he did so. His hand shot towards the place of impact and stared at Minho as he rubbed the area.

“So now you fight?”

Minho narrowed his eyes, the shock of losing Jisung clearing the fog of fear that had infected his mind. There was something about him, something about his voice that was achingly familiar.

He stared back, blood dripping down his face as he tried to copy Jisung’s battle stance from before.

“I may be weaker. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try”

This seemed to rouse the man and Minho swore behind the mask, the guy was smiling. He let out an amused huff and copied the battle stance.

“Then fight”

He rushed forward towards Minho, but Minho was quicker. Something about this reminded him of all those times he ran with his hyung and he quickly caught on to the fact that he had speed of his own. Minho ducked out of the daggers way and jabbed a fist forward into the man’s stomach, but missed by a hair when he took a step back and out of the way.

The man utilized Minho’s position and tried kicking him off his feet, but Minho acted quickly and placed a foot behind him, spinning back up and out of the man’s reach. Minho took the opportunity and rushed forward only to see the man vanish in a flash and appear beside him, punching him in his side.

Minho’s eyes widened as he felt the full punch but quickly recovered himself, using his hands to push himself back up, expecting the next wave of attacks.

But it never came.

Minho looked up to see the masked man standing still. He seemed to be observing Minho and Minho thought he could almost see a smile through the mask.

“You certainly are funny.” He almost laughed

Minho narrowed his eyes at this, but before he could ask what he meant his body went back into overdrive, sensing the dangerous aura the man was once again radiating.

“But you as you are now isn’t enough”

Next thing Minho knew was being pushed hard into the ground, a knife on his throat. Minho tried to slip out from under him, but the man pinned him down with his thighs. There was no escape.

Nevertheless. Minho tried.

“Stop Squirming!” he growled.

Minho did not stop.

“For God’s sake Minho, stop squirming or else you’ll open up you wound!”

The concerned tone is his voice made Minho freeze in his spot, as did the masked stranger. Minho looked directly up him, eyes widening.

“Who-“

Before he could finish his question, Minho’s vision of the man above him was interrupted by a large metal pole being hit directly on his face followed by and a rather loud cracking sound. The weight above him vanished and Minho’s eyes locked onto Jisung’s, a metal pole in his hands.

“I told you” the younger boy heaved in pain “Don’t count me out just yet”

Minho’s body relaxed in relief slightly before tensing up again seeing Jisung’s current state.

He was up. He was alive. But the knife still went into him He was hurt, and badly. Minho shot up, immediately place on the younger, wanting to get a closer look at his face. Jisung looked back at him, a little tired, face sweating from the pain, but he was alive. And Minho felt a great sense of relief at that.

A groan interrupted the two boys, and Minho spun around, standing protectively in front of Jisung as the masked man cradled his head in pain. Slowly the man lowered his hands and Minho let out an audible gasp.

This masked man……...those beautiful brown eyes. Agonizing familiar voice. He most certainly knew who this person was.

And it shattered what was left of his world.

“H-Hyunjae…..Hyung?”

Minho’s voice was so small, was as frail, almost like a little child being scolded for the first time. But what else was he supposed to do as he stared down at the person who was most definitely his best friend, dressed up ready to kill.. His best friend that absolutely tried to kill Jisung. His best friend that was supposedly working for The Order. His b-best friend w-who knew about…. Who knew about Jeongwoo….

Minho bottom lip began to tremble.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

He was trying to keep it together. He really was.

He looked back up and locked eyes with Hyunjae’s immediately, silent tears rolling down his face.

“H-hyung” he slipped out, voice cracking and eyes begging “….please”

Hyunjae’s eyes tore themselves away from Minho’s, almost in shame. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it as a banging noise could be heard from the stairs. Hyunjae locked eyes with Minho’s again, but this time they were hard and cold. Something he never once witnessed in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Minho. But I have to do this.” Minho shook his head, this was not his Hyunjae hyung. This was not his….his…..

“No!”

Jisung yell snapped Minho out of his thoughts and realized with horror that Hyunjae now had his gun. His gun which had just now shot through Jisung’s computer, directly through its core, and causing it to shut down.

Hyunjae turned back towards Minho, a flash of guilt crossing his face before vanishing back into his calm facade.

“Good bye” he whispered, before turning back around and vanishing without a trace, leaving Minho with a badly wounded Jisung, and a broken heart. Jisung lurched forward towards his broken computer, his own despair written on his face. After examining it, Minho watched Jisung throw the broken toy in a fit of rage.

“Well?”

Minho winced at how broken and defeated his own voice sounded.

Jisung looked up from where he was on the ground, shaking his head in sorrow.

“I-I’m sorry Minho….. “

No. This couldn’t be happening.

He wasn’t about to lose Jeongwoo too.

He couldn’t lose both of them.

His brain was unable to compute the situation, nor any words for that matter and he just stared at Jisung, tears flowing down freely as the weight of Hyunjae’s betrayal finally hit him.

Hyunjae knew Jeongwoo was a Miracle. Hyunjae knew where they were keeping him. Hyunjae tried to stop Minho from saving Jeongwoo and succeeded.

None of this was supposed to happen. Minho knew that going in. They were going to rescue Jeongwoo and they were going to wait their days at the safe house until Felix found his Hyunjae hyung. Then they would live out their days quietly, but together.

That’s how this was supposed to happen.

He slammed his fists on the ground, falling to his knees. Tears splashed down on his arms and hands as he stayed there.

“No….” he choked out “No…..”

“Go hyung”

Jeongwoo’s voice was still so small, so frail, but rang clear through Minho’s mind. The elder turned to the little boy in his cage. He still was lying down, but his body had stopped shuddering and he was no long coughing up blood. He stared at Minho with a sad, knowing smile and he reach out his hand towards the elder. Minho jerked forward, tears still fresh on his face.

“Y…..you need to go” Jeongwoo continued and Minho found himself shaking his head from side to side violently as if the very idea burned his skin.

“Not without yo-”

“I’m already gone hyung” he whispered, his words causing Minho to flinch. “Even if you could save me…..I’m already changing...and you can’t stop that” his breathing started heave as another wave was about to hit him “….I don’t…… I can’t.........” sobs now could be heard from the small boy, as he laid on the ground, unable to move.

“Please Hyung” he cried “...I….I don’t want to live like that…...I don’t want…..I can’t become one of those things… You’ve done enough for me….you’ve always done enough for me……but this time…. Let me go“

Silence filled the room as Jeongwoo turned back to look at the ceiling of his metal prison. Minho stared at him, once again not being able to find the right words to say to him. He was never quite good at that.

“Promise me something hyung”

Minho winced “Anything” he managed to choke out.

Jeongwoo turned his head and looked back at Minho, tears strolling down his face as he gave his elder a wide toothy grin like he used to.

“Stay a family. You and Hyunjae hyung….Grandma Yoo ….live a life worth living….never settle for anything less than a perfect life….. Promise me hyung…..do it…..for me” the last part was cut off as another spasm hit his body.

Once over, fresh blood now coated his mouth and he looked back at Jisung, who now stood over Minho, starring sadly at the broken Jeongwoo.

“T-Take care of my hyung” he coughed out “he doesn’t think very highly of himself and likes to always put the blame on him. H-He needs someone….needs someone to watch over him.”

Jeongwoo’s words shattered Minho’s resolve and he broke down again, sobs racking his chest.

“You have my word.” Jisung’s voice was genuine. “On my life Jeongwoo, I will watch out for him.”

“My Hyunjae hyung too” he added with a warm smile. Minho felt sick to his stomach and he knew Jisung was making a face as well. Jeongwoo must had been so out of it with pain that he didn’t know Hyunjae’s current situation.

“H-Hyunjae too” Jisung lied.

Jeongwoo gave him a toothy grin and turned his head back towards the ceiling. “Thank you. I’m glad I got to make another cool hyung before…..well you know…” he added the last part with a small laugh.

“Jeongwoo…”

“Im not afraid hyung. Of dying I mean….” He clarified “I’ve never been afraid…..I knew I would die one day….so why waste my life being fearful of it?”

Minho let out a muffled cry, rubbing his face free of tears.

“Don’t forget hyung. You still haven’t promised me”

Jeongwoo looked down at Minho, eyes turning into crescent moons as he smiled. “Now promise me. Promise me to live every day like it’s your last. Never settle for anything less than a perfect life.”

Minho stared helpless at the dying boy, his heart both being broken and mended by this little boy words. He nodded once, tears still streaming down his face but his sobs quieting down. This single nod seemed to satisfy Jeongwoo as he gave another toothy grin.

“Good! Then get out of here. You don’t have much time before the building collapses.”

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly and he eyed Jeongwoo curiously. “How do you know about that?”

Jeongwoo let out a quiet chuckle.

“Funny thing about Miracles and their DNA. I guess even if you remove the DNA from our bodies…part of our power still remains within our body. It’s a fraction of it, but our power nonetheless. In my many seizures, I saw it……I saw the building collapsing….I saw how I would die.”

“Precognition” Jisung breathed

Jeongwoo nodded, not looking at either of them.

“Now go!” he suddenly yelled “You don’t have much time!”

Jisung grabbed a hold of Minho’s arms, pulling him up.

“N-No!” he protested “ Jeongwoo….Jewongwoo I still have so much I want to say to you” he cried.

“I know hyung” Jeongwoo smiled sadly at him, pain etched into his own face. “I already know it all.”

Minho couldn’t believe this was happening. He thought back to just last week when the 3 of them, he, Jeongwoo, and Hyunjae were sitting at home, tears in their eyes as they made from of Hyunjae’s cooking. He thought back to that fateful day when he and Hyunjae watched Jeongwoo skip off happily at the thought of seeing his sister again.

Jeongwoo. Hyunjae. Minho.

They were a family. A family not by blood. But by heart.

A now his family was gone….just like that.

“Jeongwoo!” he called as Jisung continued to push him towards the stairs. Memories of their time flashed before his eyes and he took one last turn around and stared at his little brother who was drifting farther and farther from consciousness.

“I love you.”

»»»»»»»

The alarm blared throughout the compound as Minho and Jisung made their way back up towards the entrance. The entire building had been already been evacuated minus the other Miracles so no Agents were about to stop them. Minho had Jisung, who was still rather wounded wrap an arm around his neck like he did with Changbin and together they made their way up in silence, the weight of the day finally hitting both of them. Minho’s face was covered in dried up tear stains, the pain of losing both Jeongwoo and Hyunjae in one day being too much for him. He turned and looked down at the live person next to him, unexpectedly grateful for Jisung, for Jisung being alive.

“Thank you….” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Jisung didn’t say anything but glanced upwards at the taller boy in question. Minho sighed and took it as a sign to continue.

“For saving me. I would have been as good as dead back there if not for you.”

“And I would have been dead myself.” Jisung muttered. When Minho looked down at him he rolled his eyes, turning away and puffing out his cheeks in embarrassment Hyunjae knew exactly where to strike me, and if you weren’t there I would have died from blood loss…..So I guess I should thank you as well.”

Minho smiled softly at the younger boy, a sense of fondness hitting him as he watched the embarrassed boy. But his words reminded Minho of another heartbreak he has yet to deal with…

Hyunjae.

“One more thing” Minho voice was so calm, so cold, that it caught Jisung off guard and he looked up at the older boy in question.

“I know I shouldn’t be asking this” he started “but I will anyways” Minho let out a shaky breath “I’m going to ask that you don’t tell the others about…..about Hyunjae hyung…..” he paused, looking down in shame knowing that this was a lot to ask “I just…...I need to talk to him…..I need to find out for myself…I need to know Why”

“I’m pretty sure him almost killing us was a clue” Jisung muttered. Minho nodded, his lips quivering knowing the younger was right.

“But…” Jisung continued “I get it…..”

Minho’s head snapped up and he looked towards Jisung, who was staring straight ahead, not looking at him. Feeling his gaze, Jisung turned his face slightly to face back at Minho, his expression sincere

“I promise”

»»»»»»»

The night sky was dark and heavy as rain pounded down on 6 small silhouettes. When they had returned to the top he was amazed to find The Order had gone, but when he asked Chan how that was possible, he was met with quiet faces. Chan had his secrets.

Woojin and Jeongin had gone back to the hideout with Changbin to get looked at but the rest of them stayed to wait for them. Minho, who had never been real touchy with people outside of Hyunjae grabbed hold of Felix, hugging him as tightly as possible, needing someone to hold him. Felix, slightly caught off guard welcomed it however and hugged back just as tightly.

True to their word, The Order made the building collapse in on itself, and already news outlets were reporting the ’abandoned area’ as a freak cave in, that no one had luckily been hurt.

Of course these were all lies.

But Minho now knew that lies were the only way The Order controlled things. And he could not stand for it. Not anymore.

Now Minho stood still over the pile of rubble that was once The Order’s secret hideout. Felix and Jisung standing at his side, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Chan off nearby. His wet hair clunged to his face and he was soaked to the bone. But he didn’t care. Not anymore.

Jeongwoo was dead.

Hyunjae. HIS Hyunjae Hyung was gone……

Just like that. His family was shattered. Never to be together again. Now Minho was left on his own and his own internal struggle. Should he fight? Should he die? What should he do?

He felt his mind race as he stared down at the crumpled building. He was not the same Minho that went down there. He was not the old Minho that avoided. That ran. That hide. That Minho died with Jeongwoo.

And then he thought of Hyunjae. And his betrayal.

He thought of his promise to Jeongwoo as the last of his life breathed out of him.

“Promise me to live every day like it’s your last. Never settle for anything less than a perfect life.”

Minho felt his hands ball up into tiny fists.

“Chan….” Minho suddenly spoke out, knowing the blonde heard him. “I know you’ve asked me this once before and I turned it down. But-”

He stayed still for a few moments before spinning around and facing the rest of the group, his eyes falling directly onto Chan’s.

“Let me join your group. Let me be a member of SKZ”

#kpop #stray kids #stray kids au #maze of miroh #lee know #han #minho #jisung #minsung #changbin #felix #changlix #woojin #chan #bang chan #woochan #hyunjin #seungmin #seungjin #jeongin #i.n #ot9

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mrneighbourlove · 5 years

Text

Constricted Souls: Ch 2. A Deal with an Old Friend

Leere had gotten back from a funeral for a college. She blamed herself for her death. Damn woman was so intent on exploring the ruins of the jungle, Leere simply gave in, not going over certain safety procedures. It got her killed by the creature she so wanted to study.

To get her mind off the event, her mind turned to the Titanboa that claimed the life of her friend, studying snakes just like it. Like a switch that had not been flipped in years, certain gears of her memory started turning. A memory of a snake creature in the catacombs of Hyrule. Hyrule's catacombs held legends of lost treasures of knowledge. She had never gone and looked for them before, seeking knowledge from outside Hyrule. Maybe a trip closer to home was what she needed. Going to the basement, she went to the old library, which had been turned into a dungeon. Gearing up, she ran into one of Ralnor's spies. "You. I need to enter this specific room."

"I'm sorry, Princess Leere, but no one is allowed in here under Prince Ralnor's rules." The spy knew better than to miss off the prince. "I cannot let you through."

"I'm outside Prince Ralnor's jurisdiction. To be truthful, I was being pleasant in asking you first. Now I'm telling you. I'm entering this room."

"I'm sorry, but I have my orders."

Leere used her wallmaster to morph out of the wall, grabbing the spy. "You can tell Ralnor to come get me."

Before he could say a word or yell out an yelp, the wallmaster pulled the spy through the portal to Ralnor's office, and Leere opened the door to the dungeon. Ignoring whatever was inside, she made her way to the old corner that she faintly recalled. Using a spell, she applied a small bottle of acid, and expanded its contents, burning a hole. The hole was barely big enough for her. She knew this was most likely a bad idea, but she felt the wood beneath her and started to use her knife to pull out the screws. "And her we- GOOOOO!!!" The floor gave way, and she plummeted down into the catacombs once again. Landing on her feet, she rolled to save any damage to her. Memories were already coming back to her enough that she knew it wasn't a dream from her youth. Now, she'd be more prepared. Lighting a torch, she made her way deeper into the darkness. Hopefully she wouldn't be walking into a nightmare.

The catacombs had changed drastically since Leere made her trip down the rabbit hole all those years ago. Many of the dangerous sections had collapsed, like Bonegrinder predicted. There were even a few skeletons leftover from some of the Anagari's more unfortunate meals. However, in order to find her target, it would take a longer than last time. It would be a dark and gloomy pathway to her destination.

Leere was cautious as she walked forward into the darkness. Whispers of the dead spoke in her ear, telling her of danger was simply in the air.

“How astute to notice in a place like this...”

Shaking them off, the necromancer continued, tapping the staff on her back. If she needed her foldable scythe, it was available to her. As well as the dagger at her side.

Meanwhile, Bonegrinder was resting in his hammock, swinging back and forth while smoking his pipe. He was just about to doze off when one of his Hive members brought him back into the land of reality.

"Master, there is an intruder in the catacombs." Black Shadow informed the Anagari with an irritated sigh. "I thought you talked to the prince about this?"

"Another one of Ralnor's pets off his leash?" Bonegrinder set his pipe to the side. He would have to finish his choice of tobacco later. Getting up from his comfortable spot, he then asked, "Do tell, who is it?"

"I think, but I'm not sure... it's the adopted princess?"

"The blonde one?"

"No, the other one. Red eyes, dark hair, sort of pale."

Leere looked to her right in darkness. Something was watching her, she could feel it in her gut. But she didn’t feel an ill intent. Yet.

Grabbing a bouncy ball in her pocket to attract attack dogs away from her, she threw it into the dark.

Blue Haze and White Fog watched as the hounds followed the toy the girl threw, but the sisters stayed put on the wall. Unless Bonegrinder ordered it, the two of them could not kill someone. For some reason, the tiny female looked somewhat familiar. The two sisters whispered to each other, saying that Black Shadow had alerted their master and would wait for orders. Though for now, their task was to keep her away from the danger in the catacombs. This could actually be just an innocent in the catacombs... or perhaps was it an old stranger from the past?

Leere reached a wall with a sealed door. It had a sun on the door, no light leaking through. The Princess knew that long ago a Temple of Time had been created in Hyrule. Taking a notebook, she started to sketch the design of the door.

The message was relayed. Bring the adopted princess to the master, he had some questions for her. Though there was something a bit off about this small female. The magic swirling around her, the aura about her, it screamed danger. Not of pain or anguish, but the girl reeked of death. White Fog and Blue Haze agreed that the best way to go about this was to coax her to the place that their master wished for her to go.

"Pretty princess, pretty princess, won't you follow me?" White Fog whispered from the dark. "Our master, he wishes to see you."

"Says it is time for a greeting of old acquaintances." Blue Haze said softly. "Come with us."

Leere closed her book quickly and swung the torch around. “I am indeed Princess Leere. My presence is not meant to be dangerous. Do I speak to spirit, man, monster, or demon?”

"We are ancient."

"We are many."

"We are Echidnan."

"We hail from Omisha, of the Mother of all Monsters."

Blue Haze and White Fog spoke in a harmonious tone together, used to lure prey closer... wondering if it would work on Leere.

Leere squinted her eyes slowly. “Echidnan’s. A highly powerful breed of Chimera’s if I’m not mistaken?”

“We are more ancient than any chimera.”

“....Do you live here in this underground, faceless voices?”

"The catacombs are Bonegrinder's."

"Therefore, the catacombs are ours."

"He rules."

"We stand beside him."

"We are seen as monsters when humans are the ones who drove us from our home." White Fog was the first to emerge from the darkness, only the half which appeared human. "And we few survived."

"So we stay together, and look after one another." Blue Haze was next. "Survive together."

“Admirable.” Leere decided a fight would not be ideal for anyone. And the name Bonegrinder jogged her memories. “Take me to him.”

"Follow us, pretty princess." White Fog was tempted to squeal at how gorgeous the princess was. "So pretty, so young, and so cute~~~!"

"Sister, Bonegrinder has discussed this numerous times." Blue Haze reminded her sister. "You can't keep humans as a pet."

“I won’t tolerate talks of me being a pet.” Leere tapped her dagger, her murderous aura flashing to the sisters, like a cobra hissing forward with a warning. She continued to follow them deeper into the catacombs.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Black Shadow asked Bonegrinder with a hint of uneasiness in his voice. "This isn't some random straggler, this is the princess."

"What? Do you think this old snake is going to eat her?" Bonegrinder snickered at the man's anxiousness. "All will be well."

Leere entered the main room to Bonegrinder’s chambers. She appreciated the more lit lights.

“Hello. My name is Leere Dragmire. Princess of Hyrule.”

"... I think this is a bad idea." Sterling Silver snorted. "Miss Rich-and-Priss will have loads of guards looking for her."

"Will you just hush and let Bonegrinder do his thing?" Red Lover sat cross legged on a mountain of pillows. "He obviously has a plan or an idea or a thought in that head of his."

"Fine." Sterling Silver grumbled under his breath.

"We have brought the princess, master." Blue Haze scuttled up the way alongside her sister. "Unharmed, as ordered."

"Are you sure that I can't---" White Fog started again, but her sister shushed her.

"No! If you want a pet, get a cat."

Leere could see them now with extended lighting. A scorpion and spider woman lead her to this location. An orc was barking in a worried tongue. A man in a similar aura to Ghirahim in red sat on the pillows. These catacombs had transformed into a lair right under her nose. She gave a light bow of her head. “Bonegrinder... please say hello. It has been so long that I have forgotten your face.”

"This old snake was wondering if you would remember him." Bonegrinder chuckled. "After all, you were so little and did not want to let go of Bonegrinder's tail."

"Oh, come on!" Sterling Silver exclaimed. "You knew her but didn't tell us? Not cool."

"Hush before I summon my pretty kitty cat." Red Lover whapped Sterling Silver with his fan. "Just listen."

Leere’s red eyes locked with Bonegrinder’s. She suddenly felt her back tattoo loosen a little bit of blood. Her blood magic felt a connection to the serpents own magic body. She focused her mind to stop the bleeding. Was this a threat she wasn’t expecting? These connections usually ended with a Demon wanting to subjugate her body and soul to terrible tortures. Calming her mind, she hoped none of these monsters suddenly lusted to value her. They seemed of a higher moral compass on first glance. Playing a poker face she spoke smoothly. “I’m starting to remember now. Your scales were dazzling. Still are. I hope time has been kinder to you than it has to me. It’s easy to see you’ve been busy building something here.”

"Hmm... she smells different." Red Lover murmured under his breath.

"You are still tiny like you were then." Bonegrinder chuckled, though in Leere's defense, any creature compared to the massive snake was small. "Though last time, this one recalls you were simply lost. This time, my children tell me you were looking for something? Or were you just taking a trip down memory lane, tiny princess?"

“I am here indeed on business.”

"Information, tiny one?" Bonegrinder unwrapped his coils, slowly approaching Leere in all his giant glory. "What sorts of information? Bonegrinder sees all and knows all through his children, but nothing he offers is free."

Leere was surprised by his size. Had he gotten bigger? She gave him a stern nod. “Of course. I wouldn’t ask of you of anything for free. Even if you are taking free rent underground the castle.” Leere gave a light chuckle. “I’ve traveled across the world and learned much magic and knowledge myself. Not to mention finding some true treasure. Perhaps there is something we can learn from each other.”

"What is it that you wish to know, tiny princess?" Bonegrinder slithered around Leere in circles. "Information about someone? A spell? Ancient magic?"

“Ancient magic and texts. This underground was made up of old Hyrule. For instance, a temple linked to the sages and pray to the sacred realm was built here.”

"Oh, the temple!" Blue Haze knew what Leere was referring to, having exploration several portions of the catacombs. "The one with the strange door?"

"We could never figure out how to get in, so we just left it be." White Fog shrugged her shoulders. "We figured it was just a tomb of someone really important."

"The map of the old underground is no longer accurate since we have made several changes." Black Shadow scoffed. "It would be foolhardy to try to use one. You'd need a guide."

"Letting the likes of her explore the catacombs? Pst, that's a dumb idea." Sterling Silver grumbled under his breath. "She might bring more trouble."

"I'm more concerned about her leaking our little party to her siblings." Red Lover still did not seem at ease.

Sheer-Khan entered, drawn like a shark to the literal blood that had leaked from Leere. Settling he eyed her, the same as a lion on the savannah.

Leere eyed the others in the room. “And who are they, your cheer squad? The piggy seems to complain a lot.”

"You ought to watch your mouth, you disgusting human fil---"

"Silver." Bonegrinder's leering gaze only needed one word. "Hush."

"Grrr... fine."

"These are my children, my workers, my friends... they have many titles, but all answer to me." Bonegrinder then gestured to Sheer-Khan. "The last of his kind, the noble Khan, my most trusted friend."

Leere felt uneasy about how the Lynel was looking at her, even as he was simply sitting down. “Noted. I can most likely get that door open. All I ask is that you don’t defile any artifacts you can. And that I get first look. Is there anything you desire Bonegrinder?”

"Servitude?" Red Lover snickered. "On her knees?"

"An arm or a leg for a snack?" Silver had a grin on his face in his dark humor. "To save for later?"

"Have her give you that pretty weapon of hers." Black suggested. "Looks like good quality."

"Something she could steal from that snotty magician who always flirts with his clients?" Blue Haze did not like Vaati, and wanted him gone. He kept stealing her drug formulas off the market and more than once, she had to threaten him with bodily harm to get him to stop. "Or just set off a bomb in his office?"

"Dress up!" Everyone paused and looked at White Fog. "... what? She's pretty and I want to dress her up in cute clothes."

"While this old snake appreciates the suggestions, Bonegrinder knows what he wants." The Anagari stopped slithering and ran a single claw down Leere's back. "He wants a closer look at that sigil on your back."

Hades leaned his head closer. Bonegrinder must have sensed it too. This woman had a body that had a richness in blood and soul that was simply… attractive. In the most literal sense, like atom to atom. However, he didn’t know if he wanted to hold her or eat her.

Leere paused as he ran the claw. “My marking.... just to look?”

"That and perhaps a sample of your blood, tiny princess... you must know this old snake can sense the magic in you, of you, around you." Bonegrinder lifted his black claw. "That is Bonegrinder's price for information you seek. He will take you to this temple you wish to find. He knows where it is."

“I saw the door... I just didn’t want to be rude and intrude on your territory.” She turned to follow his gaze. “If I do this... we’ll do it alone?”

"Indeed, alone, tiny princess." Bonegrinder flicked the edge of his tail and held it up for her to shake. "Do we have a bargain?"

Leere felt danger from the others, danger from him, but the only one that had trust was Bonegrinder. Nodding, she shook his tail.

"Very well then." Bonegrinder then told Leere. "The temple door you found is a false one. It leads to nothing but traps. The real one is on a different level of tunnels."

“Yet, something tells me, you haven’t opened it. I think we could explore together. You’re the only one I trust to be delicate.”

“No, Bonegrinder has no reason to open the real door.” The Anagari shook his head. “He does not believe in disturbing graves.”

“Going through graves to change, disturb, and fix is a specialty of mine.” Leere gave a smile that was completely infectious. Hades was normally a level headed individual, but being around this woman was like gas dulling his senses.

“Necromancer.” Bonegrinder was impressed. “That is a rarity nowadays.”

“I’m the only one I know. Or at least the only one that isn’t morally evil.”

A necromancer. That made Hades uneasy. They were incredibly dangerous beings if left to their own devices. He’d have to speak to the others about this privately.

A spider came and whispered to the sisters that one of Ralnor’s spies had been at the border of the territory, asking for Leere to return to her brother.

“Master, the pretty prince wants his sister to return home, doesn’t want her nosing around down here.” Blue Haze told Bonegrinder. “Your excursion might have to wait until another time.”

Leere sighed. “I need to retrieve the key for the door, but I hope this doesn’t complicate things.” She patted Bonegrinder’s hand. “I’ll return soon. Thank you for agreeing to this… partnership.”

“When you desire to return, please do not use the path you used today.” Bonegrinder gestured to his Hive, all his beloved children as he called them. “One of them will come to fetch you from the secret passageways of the castle. You may pick whoever you desire to help you seek Bonegrinder.”

Leere pointed to the sister that insisted Leere was no pet. The only one she didn’t feel was too much of a threat. “She’ll do. To be frank, I don’t trust any of them, but she is the one who seems the most intelligent and most control of their urges. The rest of you feel like a dagger ready to stab in the back. Or a dog with rabies, give or take.”

“Hey! I’m not a dog, I’m a spider.” White Fog sulked at the tiny princess choosing her sister. “She’s a scorpion, she’s more stabby-stab and I’m more… bite.”

“Aw, sis, don’t worry, she might pick you next time.” Blue Haze scuttled forward on her legs over to Leere and Bonegrinder. “Name your place and time in the castle, sweetie. I’ll be there.”

Leere felt a little bad for the spider. “You aren’t the dog sweet little spider. Dogs like silver.”

She shook Blue Haze’s hand with a curtsy. “I can meet you at the stables secret door. Tomorrow morning.”

“I thin I like her.” Blue Haze snickered. “Very well… stables it is. Though I’ll be honest, let’s say the horses don’t like me too much. So I’ll be there, just won’t come out of the door.”

“That’s ok.” Leere chuckled. She gave a bow to Bonegrinder. “I’m glad you weren’t a dream.”

“Heh, Bonegrinder thought it best to let you think him a dream in order not to scare you later.” The Anagari then carefully picked up Leere with his tail and placed her on Blue Haze’s back. “She will take you to a safe exit point.”

“Don’t pull the hair, it’s easier if you just sit instead of stand.” Blue Haze told Leere as she shook a finger. “And no touching the tail.”

“Will do.”

#Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Leere #Bonegrinder #The Hive #Blue Haze #White Fog #sheer-khan #legend of zelda #Dark Themes

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guerrique-montrohain · 6 years

Text

[Journal] The fuck?

[[ There’s a list in rather messy handwriting which makes use of several short forms of metals and other materials. Most items are checked off. There are notes in the margins, measurements, question marks, “who the fuck uses DAGGERS???” scribbled and underlined three times. The actual journal entry is scrawled halfway down the page. ]]

what the fuck?

what the fuck. what the fuck. what the fuckkkkkk.

first: got a guard. didn’t hire her she just declared she was protecting me and that was that. she’s cute. not complaining.

second: a bunch of ppl have tried to kill me over the past two/three weeks. related to 1st.

third: dreams bad again. ppl trying to stab me talking about ishagrd and some ward and knights. i d k.

m gonna introduce me to somebody. we picked up supplies in ul’dah last night her chocobo is a fucking nightmare but i don’t own one so i had to ride it since i’m too big for the rentals. it won’t listen to me. who names their bird something like grinnaux anyway.

stopped at a bar for a drink for the ride home and it turned into something like two hours of confusion and a b.f. migraine.

paulecrain - guy that recognized me outright.

girr gerr grwrsjdique - who he thinks i am

asshole - tightpants mchothands grabbyface don’t remember what they called him

sissy - blind woman in shit armour acting like a fanatic about this ward shit and these knights who i get the impression just want to be left alone

so. if. if i’m this guy this paul guy thinks i am then like that means i died

explains the scar over my gut

[[ he got distracted and sketched what’s probably supposed to be a muscular elezen torso with an impalement scar right through. a :( is beside that. he picked up his thoughts later on. ]]

as soon as that chick started talking about ‘thordan’ this and ‘halone’ that i got the headache again. every time. i don’t know what it is. other guy saying that we just wanna be left alone or something that we weren’t ourselves and that’s why i don’t remember anything

maybe? it’s all fuzzy. the conversation’s fuzzy as fuck and i never managed to get marie her drink or finish mine didn’t even get to arm wrestle the guy either

i’m not going in to work today i’ve got the curtains closed in my room and i’m just lying down - okay i will be i’m writing rn - but i’m gonna have to take the guy up on talking to this zefirin guy. i guess.

marie won’t tell me what’s going on with tightpants mchothands

am i ever gonna remember?

#personal journal

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adrienaline-rushed-art · 7 years

Text

Tomato Soup and Lemon Zest: Touche, Pussy Cat!

Rating: Teen

Chapters: 5/5

ao3 fanfic 1 - 2 - 3 - 4- 5

NOTES: "I'm just tryna get my head around, wtf is happening *clap clap, clap*" "I'm just tryna get my head around, wtf is happening *clap clap, clap*" - lol

I was reminded of OK Go for some reason.Did anyone get the reference in the title? No? Ok...

That's a wrap!Well.. ok that's a lie. I'm probably gonna do drabbles for this and make it a series. But for now, a break, I've got to finish Maid for It and Charming Spell first.In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Please leave reviews!

Comment if you want me to tag you in the next update, otherwise check the tag #adrinathdrawingfic

based on this post

@samantha-girlscout @artgirllullaby @miraculouslyme @breeeliss @itsmegan347official @b0n3-crush3r @tallsuperstar @messy7seamstress

Also, @yourfavouritekindoftrash made a fic based on the same post, check it out under the tag #adrinathdrawingfic

It had now been 2 months of constant training. Nathaniel was already starting to become toned. He was gaining endurance and strength he'd never heard of - though, they still didn't meet the athletic standard - he was at a good place where he could probably excel in a P.E. class. And his teacher noticed, too.

He often hid behind other students so that the teacher would forget about him long enough to last through to changing time without doing a thing. Recently he was confident enough to give the activities and sports a shot. He wasn't half bad. Not skilled, but not trailing behind his team while chasing a ball and wheezing. Not strategic, but not standing frozen like a deer in headlights waiting for the other team to steal the ball. Adrien was his only issue. When he was on the opposing side he was nervous and when he was on the same side he preferred to pass everything to Adrien and just watch. It was far too stressful knowing Adrien was watching him play… and he was watching a lot.

Nathaniel had achieved a lot with his dedication. It was time to move on to the main goal. Fencing.

"I'm proud of you, Nath," Chat handed half of his baton over to Nathaniel, "You're finally ready."

Nathaniel smiled shyly, studying the baton in his hands. "Yeah, well, I'm not close to the finish line as far as my coordination goes."

"That's what I'm here for," Chat smiled at him in a caring way Nathaniel wasn't familiar with.

"Right?" Chat continued, "Otherwise you could've done all of this on the internet."

Nathaniel shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have stuck to this if it had been from the internet. The only reason I'm trying is because it's you- I mean because you're- Imeanitsnoteverydayasuperheroofferstojustshowyouhowtofightand-"

Chat laughed. "I get it, you love me, nothing to be shy about."

When Nathaniel stopped to gawk at him, Chat swallowed hard and began to regret the existence of his mouth.

"Oh. Uhh.. I, um sorry, I didn't know you actually…?"

Nathaniel stopped Chat nervously. "No, it's fine! You just caught me off guard, oh was that a joke? AHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Yeah…" Chat's smile was strained, and his smile was stiff, "A joke."

"Anyway…" Nathaniel tried to hide his disappointment.

"Right, back to stance."

Chat Noir moved Nathaniel around again until he was positioned correctly. Nathaniel tried moving forward as instructed.

"You're putting too much weight on one side and you're leading with the wrong foot," Chat stood behind Nathaniel, trying to help him shift his weight and grabbing his wrist to raise the staff higher.

Nathaniel tried again. He got the leading foot right but his balance was even worse.

"Try to be on the balls of your feet instead of your toes."

Chat continued to give Nathaniel the best advice he could until he finally was alright at it.

"I feel like a crab," Nathaniel finally said.

Chat laughed, "Yeah, I know.. And look you have red hair too."

"Not all crabs are red, you know," Nathaniel pulled at his bangs to stare at them.

"I know…"

"There are purple ones too."

"You've got purple pants on."

Nathaniel glared down at his pants. "Oh my god, you're right. I'm an actual crab. How many nicknames am I gonna get? Tomato, Little Red Riding Hood, now what… Mr. Krabs?"

"Now, now, don't get crabby about it," Chat grinned.

Nathaniel shot daggers at Chat. "Teach me how to fight already so I can kick your ass!"

Chat shot his hands up defensively. "Hey, I thought you liked puns?"

"I never told you that…" Nathaniel squinted at Chat.

"Ah, nevermind, you're right… I must've been thinking of Ladybug or something. Hey, but, aren't nicknames kinda nice, though? They're cute… well except for Mr. Krabs, but trust me that's not gonna be one of them. Maybe Krabby Patty."

"No, that's… No. And, maybe they would be cute, except that no one ever asks me. They just start calling me something, and my quiet ass doesn't have the guts to say anything about it.."

Chat stepped closer to Nathaniel. "You're right, I never asked either, I'm sorry. Is it alright if I-"

"No no no, it's too late now. I think it'd be better if I thought of one for you," Nathaniel tapped the staff on his chin.

"People call me Banana Hair," Chat suggested.

"Mmmm… no, I'll think of my own, thanks. How about, Lemon?"

"Noooo… I do not want to be named after smut fics," Chat cringe.

Nathaniel poked Chat's chest with the staff. "It's not my fault that's the first thing that crossed your mind. Normal people think of fruit when they hear the word 'lemon'."

"Oh, they think about fruit alright…"

"Oh my god. Listen, I happen to know someone who's nickname is Lemon, and I happen to think it sounds perfectly fine. I'm sticking with Lemon, and you can't convince me otherwise."

"But, well just don't say it in front of anybody. I don't wanna sound like some sexual beast."

Nathaniel snorted. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" He tugged at Chat's bell until it came slightly down and jingled.

Chat froze. What the fuck was happening? Chat Noir was supposed to be his safe haven, now Nathaniel was growing bold. Was his newfound confidence because of his new physique?

"I-"

"You're the one who's been flirting and teasing this whole time."

Chat Noir scratched the nape of his neck. "You're right, I deserve that type of name then."

"No, you don't deserve it in that sort of way. You deserve it because you deserve a nickname. I don't mind the flirts…"

Chat blinked at him. He smirked. "Really? You're not so bad yourself- now let's get back to that ass-kicking you told me you were gonna do."

After a little over a month, learning grip - though Chat informed him it would be different with an actual rapier - and how to loosen his wrists without making them weak, it didn't take him long to get used to attacking and parrying.

"Well, you're ready to do a drill. Is this the part where you kick my ass?" Chat lowered his stance and pointed his staff to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel smiled. "I guess we'll have to find out."

Chat waited for Nathaniel to advance and their staffs clashed. Nathaniel swung with practiced movements. Chat picked up the pace, stepping forward and driving Nathaniel back. The wind blew and Nathaniel noticed a small poster of Adrien Agreste falling at his feet. He glanced down at it to avoid stepping on it.

"Don't take your eyes off me," Chat said.

Nathaniel twitched, blocking an attack and ignoring the poster. He kept a steady gaze on Chat Noir.

Chat looked back to make sure Nathaniel didn't start wandering near the fountain, but Nathaniel's staff collided into Chat Noir's and slipped just enough to graze Chat's side.

Chat stopped, stunned. Both of them stared down at Nathaniel's extended arm, going through the gap between Chat's arm and his waist.

"I thought you said not to take your eyes away, Lemon." Nathaniel grinned up at Chat.

Chat bit his lip. "Touche, Red."

Nathaniel stood back. "I guess that's the closest I'll get to any sort of ass-kicking. It was probably luck though."

"Maybe," Chat maneuvered his staff until Nathaniel somehow ended up on the ground, "But don't let your guard down."

Nathaniel smiled ear-to-ear at his cellphone below his desk. Several pictures of Chat Noir had been secretly saved to his photo album. Class wasn't really being taught at that moment, students were working in class assignments and wandering around. It was time to add a new member to the sketchbook hall of fame.

He sketched a basic outline, adding no details but a rough tail and ears. He started with the eyes, which had a gaze that could kill, somewhat familiar. Of course it was familiar, he'd known Chat Noir for months.

He took a moment to take in Chat's mouth, which he should've had memorized by now from all the times Chat teased right up in his face, but just barely touched skin.

He finally moved to his nose, which he always saved for last. He drew what he could from what showed beneath his mask.

He looked back at the composure of the face. He furrows his eyebrows. Something…

He drew the shape of the head and started to move on the the hair before he froze.

"Oh my god." Nathaniel muttered.

It was unmistakeable. He'd drawn every shape perfectly. Those strokes weren't foreign to him, his hand knew those lines.

Adrien climbed the steps to Nathaniel. Without lifting his head and with his hands casually stuffed in his pocket he asked, "What are you drawing this time, Nath?"

Nathaniel's finger twitched around his pencil. He glanced back down at his paper, then back up at Adrien. He stood up slowly.

"Adrien… you're… Chat N-"

Adrien's face dropped as he flinched and within a split second he sprung into action. He strode forward, with a subtle wave of his hand and a few quick shushes. He placed his lifted hand on the collar of Nathaniel's blazer, the index of his other hand found itself touching Nathaniel's lips before he moved it out of the way and planted a kiss. It all happened so quickly Nathaniel had no time to react. He could do nothing more than simply let Adrien take another heartbeat of a moment before pulling away, and listen to the delicate chirp of lips parting echoing in his ears.

Adrien remained breaths away, gazing into Nathaniel's eyes. "Touche, Red."

Was that good? I hope it wasn't anticlimactic :/

Please scream into my inbox/comments

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrinath #ml rarepair #adrinathdrawingfic #cass writes

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snicketsquadron · 7 years

Text

☩ Aesthetic. ☩

What are your muse’s aesthetics?

BOLD any which apply to your muse! Remember to REPOST! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] ~ burgundy. red. crimson. scarlet. maroon. mahogany. copper. amber. chocolate. brown. tawny. tan. bronze. brass. orange. gold. saffron. yellow. chartreuse. spring green. lime. mint. green. olive. forest. turquoise. teal. cerulean. blue. navy. cobalt. periwinkle.indigo. pewter. plum. purple. magenta. fuchsia. lilac. lavender. pink. coral. peach. ivory. cream. white. silver. grey. smoke. charcoal. ebony. black. pastels. vibrant. matte. metallic. muted. dark. light.

[ BODY ] ~ mutations. claws. fangs. wings. tails. feathers. webs. spikes. scales. fur. stripes. spots. freckles. acne. bruises. scars. scratches. gashes. lashes. wounds. amputations. burns. brands. teeth. gums. tongues. lips. beards. mustaches. cheeks. noses. ears. eyes. eyelashes. eyebrows. hair. heads. neck. shoulders. collar bones. arms. elbows. wrists. hands. fingers. breast. back. ribs. abs. belly. hips. curves. butts. legs. thighs. knees. shins. ankles. feet. toes. nails. sweat. spit. tears. blood. heart. stomach. lungs. liver. veins. guts. bones. spine. muscle. skin. feline. canine. masculine. feminine.

[ WEAPONS ] ~ bites. fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. bow. crossbow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. bombs. missiles. boomerangs. lethal pets.

[ MATERIALS ] ~ metal. gold. silver. platinum. pewter. titanium. iron. steel. copper. bronze. brass. tin. bismuth. diamonds. pearls. rubies. garnets. sapphires. emeralds. jade. peridots. alexandrite. opal. topaz. jasper. quartz. rose quartz. smoky quartz. amethyst. citrine. fluorite. amber. malachite. turquoise. lapis lazuli. sodalite. pyrite. labradorite. moonstone. petrified wood. wood. paper. parchment. hemp. canvas. burlap. oils skin. muslin. rayon. faux. wool. fur. lace. leather. skins. suede. corduroy. silk. satin. chiffon. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. rocks. flint. asphalt. brick. granite. marble. dust. rust. glitter. sand. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. nylon. polyester. plastic. glass. porcelain. bone. shells. coral.

[ NATURE ] ~ grass. leaves. trees. bark. flowers. roses. daisies. forget me nots. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. roots. ocean. pond. river. stream. waterfall. creek. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. tropical. jungle. marsh. moors. swamp. plains. hills. highlands. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. fire. lava. ice. frost. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. shadow. tornado. hurricane. water spout. thunder. hail. twisters. humidity. dryness.

[ ANIMALS ] ~ birds. penguins. eagles. owls. falcons. vultures. hawks. swans. parrots. parakeets. doves. pigeons. ducks. robins. cardinals. blue jays. bluebirds. blackbirds. crows. ravens. magpies. mockingbirds. flamingos. ostriches. seagulls. albatross. peacocks. condors. finches. pelicans. chickens. geese. quail. bats. sheep. cows. buffalo. deer. hedgehogs. elephants. horses. giraffes. cats. lions. tigers. pumas. cheetahs. jaguars. foxes. dogs. wolves. coyotes. bunnies. mice. rats. monkeys. apes. bears. pandas. polar bears. snakes. iguanas. chameleons. alligators. crocodiles. turtles. lizards. frogs. toads. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. stingrays. octopus. lobsters. crabs. bugs. spiders. moths. butterflies. flies. maggots. roaches. ladybugs. beetles. cicadas. dragonflies. fleas. termites. leeches.worms. snails. mosquitoes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. dinosaurs.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] ~ pepper. salt. sugar. honey. syrup. caramel. candy. bubblegum. mints. candy canes. gumdrops. lollipops. chocolate. vanilla. cinnamon. ice cream. cake. cookies. brownies. biscuits. pie. tarts. lemonade. soda. champagne. wine. brandy. rum. whiskey. vodka. tequila. sake. beer. soju. gin. crema de cacao. cocoa. latte. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. fruit. apples. oranges. lemons. cherries. strawberries. blueberries. raspberries. cranberries. watermelons. cantaloupes. bananas. coconuts. grapes. kiwi. pomegranates. tomatoes. vegetables. potatoes. cucumbers. carrots. turnips. onions. leeks. celery. broccoli. cabbages. lettuces. beans. roots. nuts. white meat. red meat. raw meat. veal. pork. chicken. beef. venison. fish. lobster. oysters. pizza. ambrosia. pasta. sandwiches. soup.

[ HOBBIES ] ~ music. piano. flute. woodwinds. whistles. drums. guitar. cello. violin. lute. harp. fiddle. harmonica. trumpet. brass. singing. composing. folk. classical. bluegrass. blues. jazz. big band. pop. country. rock. punk. metal. hip hop. reggae. ska. rap. vinyl records. cassettes. cds. soundcloud. itunes. spotify. art. sculpting. pottery. painting. watercolor. drawing. pastels. charcoal. sketching. graffiti. printing. inking. collecting. fighting. martial arts. self-defense. boxing. fencing. sumo. wrestling. jousting. paintball. lazer tag. dueling. hunting. fishing. climbing. weight lifting. training. sports. football. football (usa). rugby. baseball. cricket. lacrosse. volleyball. basketball. tennis. badminton. skating. cycling. sailing. rowing. hiking. running. gymnastics. dancing. ice skating. hockey. reading. writing. cooking. sewing. acting. photography. video games. horseback riding. gardening. smithing. shopping. traveling. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice.

[ STYLE ] ~ nudism. perfume. cologne. piercings. tattoos. henna. body paint. war paint. make up. lipstick. mascara. eyeliner. eye shadow. powder. beauty marks. blush. nail polish. lingerie. fishnet. pantie-hoes. socks. stockings. leggings. long johns. under armor. corsets. sports bras. bustles. camisoles. blouses. button ups. tunics. vests. waistcoats. leather jackets. ponchos. sweaters/jumpers. hoodies. skirts. jeans. kilts. breeches. scarfs. cravats. ascots. belts. sashes. gloves. heels. sandals. platforms. tennis shoes. penny loafers. jordans. slippers. boots. cowboy boots. rain boots. army boots. armor. justaucorps. trench coats. capes. cloaks. burqa. suits. tuxedos. kimonos. saris. sun dresses. gowns. jewelry. earrings. noes rings. lip rings. tongue piercings. belly rings. gauges. eyebrow rings. necklaces. pearl strings. leis. bracelets. bangles. cuffs. watches. friendship bracelets. rings. pendants. lockets. broaches. boutonnieres. pocket watches. cuff links. hats. crowns. circlets. flower crowns. helmets. hijabs. turbans. baseball caps. cowboy hats. brocade. doublet. gorget. bracers. masks. cowls. braces. glasses. sun glasses. eye contacts. pajamas.

[ MISC ] ~ balloons. bubbles. candles. battle. war. diplomacy. peace. money. power. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. sex. hugs. duality. sin. lust. greed. wrath. envy. sloth. gluttony. pride. virtue. chivalry. honor. piety. charity. chastity. gentleness. aggression. romance. hatred. grief. pity. success. sorrow. joy. fear. anger. good. evil. relativity. vampirism. sapphism. life. birth. time. death. illusion. silence.

Tagged by: @vfdlibrarian

Tagging: I’m pretty sure all the people I rp with have already been tagged, but just in case: @optimisticlumber @higgsburyscience and anyone else that wants to!

#aesthetic #meme #info

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