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finelinevogue · 5 months

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a winter solstice like no other

summary - exchanging on winter solstice gifts leads to new revelations

pairing - azriel x reader

word count - ~2k

It was the night before Winter Solstice.

The house was full of laughter and love as fae’s alike drank mulled wine and snacked on Christmas puddings.

There was an air of happiness that hadn’t been around for the longest time. It was peaceful and comforting. Family was important sound this time of year and you were glad you had a good one to spend it with.

You were quite happily sitting in the corner sofa, tucked under a blanket you had knitted, drinking hot cocoa whilst the others danced near the log burning fire.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You turned to see Azriel ask you for a seat next to you.

“Of course. You don’t have to ask, Az.” You smiled at him, pulling the blanket back so he could sit down.

His large frame took up most of the rest of the sofa, so you threw the blanket over the top of you to keep you nice and warm.

“How are you enjoying this year’s Winter Solstice?” He asked you.

“Better than last year.”

Last year had been a truly sad one for you; spending it alone in a home that wasn’t even yours anymore. The war had taken everything from you, but in return it gave you this wonderful family and more than several places to call home.

It was Azriel who had found you cold and alone, and it was Azriel who took you to his family when you need people the most.

Everyone had warmly greeted you.

You had never expected to find another family.

And you certainly had never thought you’d find your mate because of it.

But here Azriel was. Your mate.

Your mate who didn’t know he was yours.

Every moment you spent close to him, you wondered how he couldn’t possibly feel the magic that you felt for him. His eyes didn’t light the same for you as yours did for him, which is the only way you knew he didn’t know yet.

You didn’t want to force him into something that he wasn’t ready for, though. Especially when he clearly had some feelings for Elain.

The three brothers and three sisters seemed destined to be, and yet you had mated to Azriel. There was almost an element of being terrified that you’d ruined a natural order if you accepted the bond between you and Azriel when Elain was right there.

“Present time!” Cassian cheered, breaking you from your thoughts.

Cassian jumped over the back of the sofa to land next to his mate; Nesta.

“You imbecile.” Nesta punched him when he knocked the wine in her hands onto her leggings.

“I love you too.” Cassian kissed her head in return, making everyone chuckle.

Everyone had their presents under the tree already, but you had left yours upstairs just because you didn’t want to intrude on their space.

You pulled the blanket off you and stood up, Azriel’s hand catching you and making you jolt with electricity.

“You okay?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Yes.” You chuckled at his worry, “Just going to get some things. Save me a seat.”

“I will.” He let go of your hand and you went off.

Your room was tucked in a small corner of the house, as you didn’t want to take up too much room. A lot of the rooms had already been taken so there wasn’t much choice, but your room was beautiful nonetheless.

It overlooked the mountains of Velaris and into the valley below. If you ever needed a reminder of how lucky you were, all you had to do was look out your window.

You picked up your presents in your room, collecting them in your arms. You tried to juggle them as you went to open the door, only for them to spill on to the floor and go everywhere.

“Oh, Mother above.” You mumbled, picking them all up again.

Once you had made your way downstairs, you re-entered the living room only to find your seat next to Azriel taken.

Elain had joined him.

Azriel didn’t look overly happy that she was there and he kept playing with a loose thread on the blanket you’d made as a distraction.

No matter, you smiled as you entered and handed out gifts to everyone.

Everyone thanked you as you passed out their respective gifts.

“You didn’t have to do this, Y/N.” Rhys spoke. “I haven’t been able to offer you the full wage you deserve this year.”

“And you’ve apologised for that countless times, Rhys. Yet, you forget you don’t charge me rent here so I don’t mind spending my wages on you and your family.” You handed him his gift.

“We’re your family too, remember.” Feyre smiled and thanked you as you gave her hers.

“I know. I wake up grateful every day.” You reshuffled the gifts to get a second for Feyre, “And an extra something for your birthday.”

“You are bad, Y/N… I told you not to.” Feyre tutted you.

“You deserve it.”

“Y/Ns right, darling.” Rhys kissed Feyre’s forehead.

You wandered back to Azriel and Elain, only holding one more gift.

“Oh.. Mother…” You started to swear.

“What is it?” Azriel asked.

“I must’ve dropped your gift on the way downstairs Az. I’m sorry, I’ll just…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You can pass it me later.”

“You sure?” You asked, feeling bad.

“Mhm.” He warmly smiled and leant back into the sofa.

You handed Elain her gift, before rounding the room to sit on the window seat just to the side of the room. You would’ve sat on a sofa, but there was no room left and you were the last to join the inner circle so it only made sense.

“Are we ready?” Cassian asked, looking around the room. “Then let’s go!”

Everyone began unwrapping, oohing and awwing over their gifts.

“Y/N..!”” Rhys laughed.

You smiled brightly as you noticed Rhys had opened his gift. You knew that he had been complaining that his feet had been getting so cold recently, so you had decided to knit him some slipper socks. They were in a gorgeous black with silver blobs that were meant to look like stars.

“Are they okay?” You asked shyly.

This was your first year of gift giving and you didn’t want to do it wrong.

“Perfect! Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Just a tiny thank you for helping me this past year.”

“You know we don’t need your thanks, Y/N, but you’re welcome anyways.”

As they continued opening presents and you opened yours, everyone was grateful and happy. Cassian was miffed that he got gag-gifts, but then again he hadn’t bought anything serious for anyone else.

You got to your gift from Azriel and stopped before you could tear, setting it to the side.

You looked up to Azriel and he was frowning at you, possibly thinking you didn’t care to open his gift. You gave him your kind eyes before he could think further.

“I’ll wait for you.” You mouthed across the room.

He smiled and nodded in agreement.

His gaze was broken from you as Elain nudged him to open her gift for him.

He slowly unwrapped the gift and everyone stopped to see what had made him gasp.

He slowly pulled out a Sapphire gem. A real and rare one. It was a gem that was meant to fit perfectly into his Truthteller blade.

“W-wow.” He raised his eyebrows in shock.

“I saw it the other day and just knew it was for you!” Elain giggled.

“This is far too much.” He shook his head.

“Oh please… It’s barely anything.”

You gulped at the site. If Elain thought that was nothing then your gift for him was truly worthless.

A rare gem? There was no competition, but if there were then Elaine would have won before you’d even started.

You wished more than anything that you could afford a lovely present like that for Az, but your money was often spent elsewhere through charity or simple living bills.

Everyone looked upon the two of them carefully.

Feyre knew that Azriel was your mate because you were making yourself miserable by keeping it to yourself, which obviously meant that Rhys had to know. So they didn’t look too comfortable with the gift exchange.

Rhys was trying to contact you through his mind tricks, but you didn’t let him. Not because you didn’t care, but because you knew you’d be upset the moment he tried to console you.

Whilst Elain and Az continued to have their moment, your own heart breaking a little, you quietly made your way out of the room.

You ran upstairs as quick as you could and shut your bedroom door behind you.

Opening the window, you stuck your head outside and let out a big breath - letting everything go. You felt like you could cry, but nothing good would come of that so you tried to console yourself the best you could with the fresh air and view of Velaris below.

“You o–”

“Mother of…” You turned around so quickly that you hit the side of your head on the glass window.

“Oh Gods, Y/N!” Az exclaimed as he shut the door behind him and ran over to you.

His hands took ahold of your face carefully, tilting your head to the side where you’d hit it. Instead of a pink mark, he noticed the tears instead.

“Hey, what’s with the tears?” He softly asked, wiping a thumb over your soft cheek.

“Sorry!” You laughed, “It’s been a bit much today already.”

“Tell me about it.” He answered sarcastically, before continuing. “I mean… a sapphire?” He whispered the last bit.

“Oh.. Yes. That - uhm - that was very thoughtful of Elain.” You took a step back from Azriel, wiping under your eyes.

You leant back against the windowsill and looked towards Azriel. He was carefully watching you like he didn’t quite understand something about you.

“What?” You asked.

“I have something for you.” He said, sitting back on your bed. He patted the spot next to you and you - not too eagerly - went and sat next to him.

He handed over a small blue wrapped box, as delicately wrapped as a professional would have done.

“It better not be a sapphire.” You joked.

“Oh better give it back then.” He tried to reach back for it, but you laughed and pulled it away. Turning back, you didn’t expect him to still be so close.

The bond inside of you was fluttering like a billion butterflies wings. You cleared your throat and looked down at the gift again, making Azriel lean back a bit.

You carefully opened it and found the box beneath the paper. It had a little infinity sign engraved in silver on the top of it.

You furrowed your eyebrows and swallowed back the growing lump at the back of your throat.

“Az…”

He stayed quiet.

“T.. This is from the ‘Bonded Mates’ gift shop.”

“I know.”

You gulped and turned towards him, tears in your eyes as the warmth in your chest started growing and growing. Your heart felt like it was growing three sizes and your chest was being directly pulled towards his.

“You… You know.” You let out a soft sob.

Azriel’s tears built up in his own eyes, “I do.” He nodded, confirming what you thought.

“Az.. For how long?”

“Since the day I met you.”

You let out another sob, feeling slightly more than overwhelmed right now. You nodded your head continued to look into his eyes, seeing your other half look back at you.

“You never said. I thought you liked Elain.”

“I must admit, even I thought I liked Elain at the very beginning, but I slowly realised I was only trying to like her for the sake of the ‘three brother’s and three sisters’ hypothesis. In reality, all I felt was a tug towards you and every day since I have tried my best to not overwhelm you because all I want to do is bond with you.”

“You knew! All this time.” You cupped his cheek and he leant into it willingly.

“Yeah.”

You leaned closer to him and his face, “So did I.” Azriel smiled so widely at that, “And I accept you. For infinity.”

“And I accept you, for anything and beyond infinity.”

His lips touched yours before you could even take a breath. You chest tugged towards his and your heart felt like it was overloaded with love and power. You felt yourself literally tether to Azriel and it was quite possibly the best feeling in the world.

Before you could both get carried away you pulled back.

“Wait, wait, wait…” You gasped.

“What?” Azriel looked concerned.

“Your gift!” You stood up, wiping under your eyes yet again.

“Oh screw the gifts.” He tugged on your hand so you fell back on the bed, back laying flat.

Azriel creeped over you and held his weight up above you.

“Az!” You laughed. “Get off, you big brute!”

You tried to push him off but he was as steady as a mountain. He couldn’t be moved and you accepted your defeat with a huff and a smile, allowing him to watch you.

He was quiet for a moment, no telling why he pulled you back. It seemed like he was simple mesmerised with every detail of you.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m just grateful that it was you.”

You knew the ‘it’ in question was the bond and you had to gulp back another set of fresh tears.

Instead, you leaned up and kissed him again. Softly pressing your lips into his and kissing him like he deserved to be kissed. He’d been waiting, what felt like an eternity, so might as well show him why he was made to wait all this time.

You moved back down but Azriel followed you. His arms cupped themselves over your head and encased you beneath his wholly.

He didn’t let his lips free from yours, not even for one breath. You both felt like you were each other’s air. Azriel kissed and kissed you like he would never get to kiss you like this again, even though it was your first time.

“Az..” You tried to pull away again.

“Try and stop me from kissing you again and see what happens.” He warned you, and you responded by tugging his hair at the back of his neck. He moved back at the flinch of pain.

“Listen to me.” You smiled.

“No.”

And he leant back down to start kissing you again, moving his lips in such a way that you were starting to forget everything other than him.

You sneakily moved your hand up beneath his caged arms and attempted to capture his cheeks to stop him, but his shadows already knew your plans and caught your arm along the way. The shadows pinned your arm up behind your head and you huffed into your kiss.

“I don’t know whether to be offended that you keep wanting to get away from me, or not.” Az stopped kissing you to speak.

“You should. I want my gift.” You pouted.

“Oh. Do you now? Well I want to kiss my mate to make up for all our lost years, so I guess I’ll just do that instead.” He was about to lean back down to you but his shadows held him back instead. “What?”

“Seems they can listen to my thoughts now. Now stand down, Sir.”

He didn’t get much of a choice as his shadows pulled you off him and allowed you to slip away.

“You little demons.” Az groaned but allowed them to anyways, because it was worth seeing the smile as your opened your gift.

It was the daintiest bracelet you’d ever seen with a tiny little dagger charm on it. You absolutely loved it and were more happy to receive this than a thousand chariots of gold.

“Thank you. Put it on for me, please.”

You held out the bracelet and your wrist to Azriel and he carefully took both and put it on. It looked perfect against your skin and Azriel couldn’t help but smile that a little part of him was worn by you.

“Beautiful.” He said, kissing the back of your hand.

“It is. You chose well.”

“I honestly didn’t think this would have gone as well at it has. I was starting to think you’d never feel the bond.”

“The feelings mutual, darling.” You chuckled. “Now!”

You started rummaging around the room to find Az’s gift. You looked everywhere until you found it rolled away, tucked in a corner.

You grabbed it and walked over to Azriel. You stood in front of him as you handed it over.

“Happy Solstice.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” He said before opening it gently, savouring the time and effort you put into the wrapping.

As he opened it, you remembered how insignificant it was compared to Elain’s gift.

“Now, I know it’s nothing too extraordinary but I know how sensitive your hands get in the cold so I…”

“You knitted me fingerless gloves?” Az held up the deep blue coloured gloved, the tips of the fingers missing. There was a mitten like part to it that could fold over the fingers should he wish to keep them warm.

“I know it’s not a sapphire, but…”

“It’s not.” He said and you nodded, “It’s better.”

The smile on your face was unmistakable and he wanted to see you smile like that every damn day for the rest of your existence.

“Okay.” You said, trying to believe him.

“No, come here.” He pulled on the back of your waist until you toppled into him and straddled him on his lap. “It’s better. Best gift ever and not just because it came from you. It was so thoughtful. Thank you.”

You leant forwards to kiss his inviting lips.

And not for the last time, that was now for certain.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel blurbs #azriel acotar blurbs #azriel acotar fic #azriel fic rec #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses

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pixeechix21 · 6 months

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Mr grinch🎄

Simon/keegan/konig (whoever you want baby😉😙) x fem!reader

Summary: hate hate hate, loooove, hate hate… He hated Christmas but good god he loved the pathetic sounds coming from you.

Tw: edging, dom/sub, riding, sit not fucking hoover, praise, eating you out like Christmas dinner, p in v, ORAL, fucking n fun times😊💕

You had been making dinner when he came home to see you dancing and singing to his playlist. Twirling around you sing with the spoon, he smiles ear to ear to see you wearing your apron with nothing underneath. He comes to you, holding your waist, swinging side to side. He pulls you in closer, feeling your soft body press up against his chest. “I’ve missed you luv,” he kisses you liking the sauce from your lips.

“Bad day?” You say kissing him back before turning to the pasta. His hands hold you from behind as he rest his head over yours.

“One could say that. Someone decided to decorate my weapons locker with Christmas lights,” he groans, pressing himself into your back.

“Probably Soap,” you laugh. “You should just enjoy the Christmas cheer at this point, he’ll never stop,” you breathe out as his hand cups your breast, feeling him pressed against your lower back.

“Not until someone convinces me otherwise luv,. As with Soap he’ll get payback soon enough,” He ducks his head to your shoulder, nibbling it.

“Someone? How about you go to the bedroom? Don’t do anything,” you face him, arching your back as he pulls you in, your hand runs between his pants and boxers. Biting your lips to hide your smile as you watch him smirk, smack your ass before heading upstairs.

You turn off the stove and let him wait. Creeping up into the en suite you take your sweet time.

Through the cracked door he has full view of you in the mirror. Undoing the apron he can see all of you. No matter how many times and for how long he’s see you, he will never grow old of how you look; who you are.

His blood starts to pump down, as he watches you turn on the shower, water running down you. Down between the peaks of your breasts, down to between your legs. He can’t help his hands to go down to release the growing stiffness in his pants. Watching as your hand washes your soft skin, caressing your tits, light moan float in the steaming air. His breathing deepens as he observes as your fingers move in and out.

You revel at catching him watching your mouth slightly open. You worker harder, circling and moaning louder.

He’s entranced as he hears you coming while he grows harder with every second.

Watching you come out of en-suite in a small towel. His trust rising and falling rapidly. Once in front of the bed edge, you let the towel fall to the floor lightly.

“I can get with the holiday season, all right, “his eyes glamorous he can see you perfectly. Coming onto the bed you climb over hand skill and doing his belt. He shifts up against the head as you takeoff his pants. “Sit back baby let me help you with the bad day,” you kiss him, following his happy trail up past tattooed abdomen to his neck. He runs his hands down your body as you bite and lightly pull on his bottom leg. His groans rumble in his chest, feeling you sit comfortably on his throbbing member.

He’d wanted to hold you all day. Daydreaming about how gorgeous you look bent over as he ran into you. Especially after you sent him that video, in the new set he bought you, playing with yourself teasing him. He’s been hard all day., becoming more pained as he rewatched the video, helplessly.

Your hair smells like strawberries and all of a sudden that’s his favourite fruit. “It was so bad of you to send me that. He talks your ass the sting, shooting electricity deep within your core. “I had you stuck in my head all – “ slap, “-day.” Balloons. You kiss him and suck his hot skin marking his neck purple. Humping his lap needing as he continues, “if only I could’ve had you right then and there in the meeting in front of everyone. I’d fucked and filled you full love, and I just let everyone watch, “he sounds lustful his hold becoming firmer. His hand dives down to your entrance, you whine as his large finger start to stretch you out. “Look at you wet at the thought of,” he fingers your hole, feel clench around him. As if he knew he stopped just as you started riding his fingers so that you could finish.

“No, no princess. I had to wait all day, unable to help my blue balls. Now it’s your turn,” he shifts the both of you flat on the bed.

Breathing is nonexistent as kiss, passionately. Breaking Your thumb across your swim lips. Let’s put it, demands “sit on my face “taking your hips, positioning your legs to either side of his head. Too scared to sit down, you helper. His hands clamped down on your hips and forced you down.

“I said fucking sit,” he growls, against your sensitive spot.

“But-”

“I said fucking sit, so I can make you forget how to walk love,”he doesn’t let you hover, forcing your full weight on his face. “If I tap twice that’s the only time you can get off. Understood?”

As you’re saying yes, he’s in you. Licking and sucking around, and, and across your clit. he’s too much. You feel his tongue entered you laughing at your juices. You’re a mess. You don’t care anymore, whether you’re hovering or suffocating him. You ride his face, quickening in peace. Holding onto the headboard with both hands “please – I’m so close – fuck – oh God, I’m so close – I’m gonna I’m gonna –”you whine and exclaim, tossing your head back. Movement slow as he hears you, playing with the intensity; pulse of frustration comes over. “It hurts – please – I need to!” you let out I screwed shot.

As you calm down, his freehand comes behind and starts again. His light sucking paired against his fingers curling inside you to hit your sweet spot makes you blind with ecstasy. He repeats it all over again.

Looking down at him, you catch the dark smile in his eyes. “It’s so painful, I’m begging, please let me come,” can’t stop your begging, with the way your clit is throbbing against his purring he left you up and down back to his lap. Your legs are shaking heavily as you put onto your back.

“If you’re gonna come, it’s going to be around my fucking cock.” His words are soft, reassuring. Almost.

He relishes in seeing tear up as he stretches your type pussy. You’re taking him so well, even when you’re so worked up.

The lack of stimulation and relief from your clit hurts wonderfully. It’s intoxicating how good the feeling of pain can be. One foot over his shoulder he can watch as you bounce up and down, moaning his name sweetly. You feel his large, hot hand, press down on your lower stomach as he fucks you hard faster.

“No, no, I’m gonna come, I can’t control it, “you say, panicked an overwhelming feeling washes over you.

“ lThats. Let it out come on, I need to feel you milk.“ he says groaning, he holds himself back. You listen to him relaxing as you finally get to climax. You scream his name so loud, it makes him proud. You clench and pulls it around his cock as he doesn’t stop his continuous breath.

Pulling out heat jerks into his hand, his moaning rings in your ears. “Y/n, shit y/n! Christ!”

Hearing him lose it coming all over you, makes you want to go another round, but you’re shattered at the aftermath of what just proceeded. Taking the towel he cleans you up. Holding each other, he realised Christmas wasn’t all that bad after all.

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jungshookz · 11 months

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y/n is some rich badass boss of some huuuugge corporation and bts is working under her (reception, assistants, janitors, errand boys)......valet!tae and valet!jin are DOWN BAD and one day y/n pulls in and one of them makes a sly comment about y/n stepping on them OR about ruining/ripping her clothes

➺ wordcount; 1.2k

➺ currently spinning on the record player; i know this is such a short little drabble but it’s really giving be mean by DNCE

»»————- ⚡ ————-««

“i desperately need coffee,” jin’s mouth opens in an obnoxious yawn as he turns his head so that taehyung doesn’t have to look into the depths of his giant mouth, “how are you never tired in the morning? our shift starts at six and i’ve never seen you yawn, ever. it’s actually kind of concerning.” he exhales slowly, blowing out his lips as he tries to shake the sleepiness out of his system

“maybe i’m just more suited for this job than you are,” taehyung whistles, dancing along to the music crackling out of the little radio sitting on the podium (taylor swift’s new album just came out and even he has to admit some of the songs on there are a vibe), “but also i chugged, like, two redbulls before the start of our shift, so there’s that, too-"

“okay, well, that’s just cheating and it doesn’t mean you’re more qualified for the job, it just means you’re more insane and you treat your body like a dumpyard-" jin snorts, standing with his hands behind his back as he looks up at the early morning sky, the soft shade of blue nice and easy on his sleepy eyes, “what time do you think the boss’ll be here? i’m wondering if i have enough time to run in and get a coffee for myself before she gets here…”

“well, you’re more than welcome to go and get a coffee while i help y/n with her car,” taehyung flashes jin a boyish grin, “i hope she comes in her mclaren today. i love driving the mclaren.”

“hey, you got to drive the mclaren last time, it’s my turn if she comes in it today!” jin frowns, eyebrows furrowing before he shakes his head, “her new BMW is nice, too. it’s the new electric one. i drove it the other day and it rides like a dream… but the mclaren, i haven’t tested out yet. it’s only fair that i get a turn!”

“why don’t you just stick to the cute little mini cooper she has? you can’t handle the mclaren,” taehyung scoffs, reaching up to adjust his tie, “besides, it’s my sexy little car and she only responds to daddy-"

“okay, that-“ seokjin immediately makes a face and rolls his eyes, “jesus, keep it in your pants-"

the sound of an engine purring smoothly and bright headlights rounding the corner makes the both of them stand up straight immediately because it’s seven o’clock on the dot and you always come on time, taehyung elbowing jin excitedly when he sees that you decided that it was mclaren day today and he has to stop himself from bouncing up and down on his heels excitedly like a little boy on christmas because it’s mclaren day today

“i know exactly what you’re going to do and i already told you it’s my turn-“ seokjin says through gritted teeth while keeping the smile on his face, already walking closer to the edge of the sidewalk so that he can get to your door before taehyung can, “you got to park it last time, it’s my turn-"

“you can literally suck my dick, i’m not passing up the opportunity to get my hands on my mclaren- good morning, boss!” taehyung chirps, shoving seokjin out of the way to open the door up for you, “mclaren monday, hey?”

seokjin resists the urge to tackle taehyung from behind as he shakes his head subtly, taking a few steps back and maintaining his professional composure

whatever

but next time the mclaren is definitely going to be his

“your favourite day, i know,” you laugh lightly, “morning, you two-“ you swing both legs out of the car and seokjin feels his nose twitch slightly at the pleasant scent of what he’s pretty sure is a mixture of vanilla and sandalwood emanating from your hair (you always smell so insanely sexy and it drives him crazy)

“good morning, y/n-“ seokjin bows his head politely, “new shoes?”

“how very observant of you, seokjin!” you toss your keys up in the air behind you with a jingle and taehyung catches them in one swift swoop, wriggling his eyebrows at seokjin teasingly because ha-ha, he got the mclaren, “you like them?” you pause, lifting the back of your leg for a second to flash the sexy red bottoms before raising a shoulder with a laugh, “i don’t usually gravitate towards platforms, but i do love a bratz doll moment-"

“oh, i-“ seokjin chokes for a second before letting out a laugh, “no, i love them- they’re- they look great, boss. they make you look- tall. very tall.”

“mm.”

seokjin’s eyes widen a little when you take a step towards him, reaching over to adjust the collar of his shirt and smoothing it out before patting his chest, “there you go. still a little sleepy this morning, aren’t you? collar wasn’t sitting right.”

“i guess so, yes.” seokjin smiles sheepishly, hands clenched like crazy behind his back because he just got a full whiff of your perfume and you just smell so damn good

you twist around on your heels to look at taehyung, tilting your head with a teasing smile, “you gonna take care of my baby, taehyung?”

“oh, i’ll take care of you, baby,” taehyung purrs, his cheeks heating up when he realises that that wasn’t just an intrusive thought and he actually said it out loud, “i mean-" he laughs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “i’ll take care of your baby.”

“alright, baby, i’ll see you two when i go out for lunch later-" you turn back around and head towards the large revolving doors where namjoon is waiting patiently for you with his iPad tucked under his armpit and an iced coffee in one hand and a paper bag with a random pastry in the other hand (he likes to surprise you every day with something new), “be good while i’m gone!”

“…i want her to step on me.” seokjin blurts out as soon as you’re out of earshot, his jaw hanging open slightly as he reaches up to smooth out his own collar, “like i- my god, she could do anything to me and i’d thank her for it.”

“tell me about it,” taehyung murmurs, body slumped over the open car door as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, “she called me baby. the crimes i would commit to get her to call me other names…” he stands up straight again when he sees you turn to glance at the two of them over your shoulder, flashing them another one of your signature smiles and a flirty little wave

…god, he loves this job.

🎙️ tell jin to close his mouth or tell taehyung to get out of the mclaren (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)

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turnupswritessometimes · 6 months

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The One About Christmas - AshEiji - 12 Days of Ficmas

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52217968/chapters/132084811 (It helps to heave read my Wedding fic, but it's not mandatory to understand what's going on.)

Day One: Christmas Party:

There was a college party. There were actually lots of college parties, but the psychology department of Stony Brook University was having its own Christmas Party. A proper, formal one, organised by the staff, as a congratulations for the students: despite them all having copious amounts of work over the holidays.

A normal Christmas party. Only Ash wasn't exactly normal. He couldn't help but feel, as he tied his tie, that he was tying a noose. His hands stilled. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. It had all come so naturally. He'd combed his hair back in the same way he'd used so. With the shirt and tie and jacket – it felt like he was stood back in his room at Golzine's mansion. As though he was getting ready for one of those parties.

And now he could feel fingers brushing a stray hair back; tilting his chin up and reminding him to stand straight; at the small of his back just to remind him he was a decoration. The same as the nutcracker on the mantle, only he’d never get the chance to return to his own candy kingdom.

His stomach forced itself into his throat. He couldn’t swallow.

"Ash?"

He blinked.

Eiji was at the door of the bathroom, leaning against the frame. Creasing his shirt, because it didn't really matter, Ash thought. It was an undergraduate college party.

"We don't have to go, if you don't want to."

They were allowed plus ones. There had been no question that Eiji was coming.

"I want to go." Ash's neck felt flushed, and it felt hard to take a breath. "Just not – looking..."

Eiji's eyes softened. Like they always did, ever since he found out. It just felt worse now that Ash’s past was completely in the past.

"Don't," Ash said.

"Here." Eiji stepped forward. Ash stared at the line of his hair, just above the collar of his shirt. It was inky black, shining in the light of the bathroom. Eiji looked handsome, like this – because it was a novelty.

Eiji's hands loosened his tie, and left it crooked. They slipped under the jacket, and slid it off from Ash's shoulders. It fell to the bathroom floor in a heap.

"Wear your bomber jacket, instead," Eiji said. Like it was simple.

"That's not formal."

"What are they going to do?" Eiji looked at him from beneath his dark lashes. His eyes caught the electric bathroom light, and shone like dark, rich honey. "Kick you out?"

"Maybe."

"Then we'll get takeaway and slow dance in the apartment, instead."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "Well, now I want to skip."

Eiji chuckled, and it was a brilliant sound. His hands crumbled the shirt as he held Ash's arms, reaching up to kiss him. He returned it, his eyes closing. Sighed, when he felt Eiji's hands in his hair, ruffling it out of style, twisting it in the long strands at the back.

Ash clung to him when he tried to pull away, hooking his fingers into Eiji's belt loops. But he was only taking Ash's hand. He had Max's cufflinks, in his pocket, from their wedding day. Fixed them on each of sleeves, his fingers practised and careful.

"There." He hooked his fingers into Ash's, leading him back into the bedroom. "Very rebel without a cause."

Ash winked and grinned. But he had a cause, once. He’d been a rebel, because there’d been a man to stop. Drugs to stop. The good fight to fight. Now Golzine – all other men – were dead, and he didn’t have a purpose. Instead, he had a degree to work towards. Less gunfights and peril and more all-nighters and caffeine.

He shrugged on his bomber jacket, and Eiji caught the front to kiss him again. It became open-mouthed; became Ash's tongue pressing against Eiji's, and his hands making even more creases in Eiji's jacket. Their hips pressed together, and he felt Eiji catch his breath.

They could keep doing this. Could blow off the party, and have sex instead. Try and have sex. They didn't always get all the way. Eiji said it was fine – that he didn't mind – but that had to be a lie. He wasn't actually an angel, willing to bare with Ash every step of the way. He had to be annoyed, even if he didn’t say it.

And Eiji nipped at Ash's lip before he pulled away, his bangs falling into his eyes. "Come on, James Dean, we'll be late."

Ash sighed, dramatically, but followed. Drove to campus with his hand on Eiji's thigh, and Eiji's hand over his. His heart raced. This made him feel alive.

They parked. The campus was all glass buildings, yellow lights; all modern and imposing. He’d looked around with Max, the two of them arguing over the leaflet. Eiji brought Ash's hand to his mouth. He kissed his knuckles, individually. They could stay here, Ash thought, but if he said that, Eiji would tease him for being scared.

He wasn't scared. Not of a Christmas party. His first normal Christmas party.

But they still weren't normal. They found that out when they walked up the steps and followed the distant sound of Christmas music to the lecture hall. Ash's professor – a dark haired woman who seemed to notice every little movement around her, greeted him warmly enough. Her dark eyes examined Eiji.

"And is this your friend? Boyfriend?"

Ash couldn't help grinning. He always did, when he got to say it.

"This is my husband." And he held up their joint hands so that Eiji's wedding ring caught the light. Eiji ducked his chin, his cheeks flushed, but held out his hand politely.

"My name's Eiji Okumura," he said. "It's good to meet you."

His teacher, Mary Catherine, shook Eiji's hand with a polite smile, though she still examined them both. Ash felt his skin prickle under the scrutiny.

"God," she said. "Married and neither of you should legally drink yet. That's – brave."

Ash just smiled. It didn't feel hugely brave. Not with everything else that had happened to him. Not compared to everything that Eiji did to stay by his side. Brave was disobeying Ash Lynx.

The party was held in the usual lecture room; a room not designed for socialising, Ash thought. But tinsel and fairy lights had been strung over the seats and around the board (complete with a wobbly 'Merry Christmas' written there). The front row of desks had been entirely taken over by snacks, whereas the teacher's desk was laden with a non-alcoholic mulled wine cannister, cards packed in willy-nilly around it. There was faint music coming from a laptop: a top 100 Christmas hits. All in all, it felt very school disco, just with young adults instead of young children. Everyone stood in clusters, chatting, over sprawled over the lecture seats in tight clusters.

They attracted attention. Eiji attracted attention, Ash thought, because he lit up every room he was in. But also because he knew he was the odd one out. No one knew he didn’t have a high school diploma, but it was like they still felt it. He’d sat an exam, written an essay, had a letter of recommendation, and that had gotten his place.

Soon they were surrounded by his classmates, whilst they all clutched glasses of lukewarm fake-mulled-wine, and the teachers chatted amongst themselves.

"It's so interesting to meet you.” One blonde girl beamed at Eiji.

"Ash is so mysterious!” The guy who sat next to Ash in the hall said. “We know nothing about his personal life."

"When he mentioned his husband, I thought he was being, like, ironic,” the blonde girl’s friend added.

Ash took a sip of wine, swirling it around his tongue. He chatted with everyone amicably enough, and mentioned Eiji often, he knew. They probably counted him as a friend. He couldn’t feel the same way. It all felt too shallow.

Eiji just laughed, politely. Charmingly. He was charming.

"So, how did you meet?"

Eiji caught Ash's eye. He raised his eyebrows, and choose to take another sip of wine. He wanted to hear how Eiji told it.

"I was working as a photographer for a journalist friend," Eiji said. “We were doing a piece in New York City. That’s when I saw Ash.”

"And then he asked to hold my gun."

The three tittered, their eyes wide. “Seriously?"

He’d made sure to make it sound like something else entirely, and it made Eiji choke on his own wine. He elbowed Ash, who had to bite his cheek to stop from grinning.

The question made Ash think very quickly in just a second. He realised the context; the very reason Eiji had been there in the first place; the gangs, the drugs, the deaths. Who Ash Lynx was.

He swallowed. "Sorry. It's - an inside joke."

"I'm totally against guns," blonde girl said. "They should be completely banned."

It thankfully brought up the tired gun law debate, and Ash was forgotten, for a bit. That was always easier; when he didn’t have to talk about himself.

Eiji met his eye. His cheeks were red, and he loved that he could still make him look like that.

Ash forced himself to smile. But he was very aware they hadn't met conventionally - that nothing about them, or their relationship was conventional. How could he say that he'd dragged Eiji into a life-or-death situation from day one? Kept doing it, because he was selfish and in love. How could he explain that as much trouble as guns brought, he had loved his. It had been an extension of himself; its weight had felt right in his waistband. Aiming and shooting had been second nature – had felt right – a cheetah learning to run. He was a weapon, and that had been his fangs.

He'd loved his gun.

He couldn't say that. He couldn't say that a gun had saved him when he was eight years old. He’d have to explain too much. None of them knew anything. He didn’t want them to know anything about him. For once, he wanted to be considered normal.

Eiji leant across, to whisper in his ear, "At least they didn't ask about our first kiss."

And it was Ash's turn to choke. Absolutely not, he thought. These kids would be horrified if they knew he'd been to jail. (More than once, he thought.) Even more horrified that Ash didn’t ask Eiji's permission – and then they was everything else.

He reached round Eiji's back, and curled his finger in his belt loop. Not quite an imitation of what happened, but Eiji nudged their hips together.

Another girl had joined them, twirling her hair around her finger. "I really can't get over it - you're just so cute together."

"Like, total golden retriever, black cat vibes,” the blonde girl added.

He knew they were both blinking in bafflement. But kept smiling, politely. Not so different, then, from the old parties, Ash thought. All he had to do was smile and nod and perform. Only, at the end of this one, he'd be going home with Eiji. They didn't even have to have sex, if he didn't want to. They could lay in bed and watch a cheesy Christmas movie until they fell asleep. He liked that ending more than being told to be a good boy for Santa.

Eiji was grilled, of course, on who he was and what he did for a living. Eiji was much more at ease in answering those questions; he was good at small talk. His dark eyes shone like chestnuts, his smile gleaming. But Ash kept tracing over the white line of Eiji's shirt collar against his tanned skin. A curl of dark hair sat just under his ear lobe.

He downed his drink, heart thudding.

"So, are you at college too?" the guy asked Eiji.

Who did falter, then. "No. I'm - not."

And Ash noticed his expression change, then. Even as the rest of them uncovered that Eiji was from Japan - assumed he was an expert on Tokyo - and looked polite but disappointed when he said he was from a city they'd never heard of. Asked him to say stuff in Japanese, and Eiji complied.

The music got louder. And even though the wine was non-alcoholic, students started to dance. They swung the tinsel around and leant on each other and Ash knew they should join in, but he didn’t do this kind of dancing. He’d always leant against the bar and looked serious; he’d had a reputation to uphold.

Had.

They decided to head off, not long after that.

“You’re an intriguing person, Ash Okumura,” Mary Catherine, his teacher, said, when she shook his hand goodbye. Her grip was strong.

“Thank you,” he said, because it seemed the only thing he could say.

“There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“Isn’t that true of everyone?”

She shrugged. Cast her eyes over the crowd gathered there, and leant closer, just slightly. Her hair fell forward. “To be honest, Ash, most of this class won’t continue on after undergrad. The ones that make it past masters is even fewer. But I think you’re one of those few that’ll go on to the doctorate. And I’m looking forward to calling you Doctor Okumura.”

It didn’t make him feel normal, but in a different way. It made him feel like he was struck with lightning; like there was something more to him. Something more than the nutcracker in the corner to be taken to bed later. And it felt satisfying to become something more.

He smiled at her. And thought that he’d still be wearing crooked ties and bomber jackets even then. A rebel with a new cause.

“So,” Eiji said, as they slid into the car. “How was it?”

He didn’t start the car, just yet. Instead, he kissed the line of tan skin that he’d been staring at all evening. Relished in Eiji’s sigh at the touch.

“Are you the black cat, or am I?” Ash replied.

Eiji laughed. He rested his head on Ash’s shoulder, moving with his arm as he began to drive. “They mean well.”

“How’d you find it?” Ash asked. “Your first American college party.”

“Not like the movies.”

Ash paused. He could still taste the mulled wine on his tongue; spiced and sweet and enough to go to his head.

“Takeaway and slow dancing in the apartment?”

Eiji kissed his cheek.

“That sounds like a good Christmas party.”

#turnupswrites #asheiji #banana fish #eiji okumura #ash lynx #fanfiction #fanfic #12 days of ficmas

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non-man049 · 5 months

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Happy christmas everybody! Today marks the 10th anniversary since The 11th Doctor regenerated into The 12th Doctor. So I felt obligated to make a compilation of some of my favorite Capaldi moments to celebrate that.

He appearing in The Day Of The Doctor 1 month before his introduction.

He calling Clara an egomaniac.

He telling Clara she doesn't see him.

He trying to resonate with Rusty.

Rusty telling him he is a good Dalek.

He asking Clara if he's a good man.

All of his banter and fights with Robin Hood, which leads to him getting shut up by Clara.

He being so desperate in trying to prove Robin Hood isn't real that he speculates the villain created his own enemy.

His theories about what the creature from Listen could be

He picking up the phone and suddenly appearing somewhere else alongside Clara.

He figuring out that they aren't in a heist but a rescue mission.

His discussion with Clara at the beginning of The Caretaker.

He interrupting Clara's class to explain that what she is teaching is wrong.

(I know this one is disliked but) him abandoning Clara so she can decide the fate of the creature in Kill The Moon.

He wanting to talk to Clara about the planets during their last hurrah.

"Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose".

All his bickering with Clara during Flatline.

He avoiding getting run over by a train while crawling from inside the tiny Tardis only to later make a little dance to celebrate.

He trying to communicate with the 2d monsters but giving up to defeat them because he is the man that stops the monsters.

He explaining that the superpower of humanity is forgetting.

"Do you really think that I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?".

"Clara, I'm terribly sorry but I'm exactly what you deserve".

That entire scene of him and Clara in Dark Waters if I'm being real.

"I am... AN IDIOT" followed by him thanking and kissing Missy.

Almost anything in Last Christmas.

Him fighting vikings while playing electric guitar while riding a tank.

He noticing Clara in between the crowd and immediately starting to play Pretty Woman and flirting with her.

He taking over Davros chair because he believes Clara is dead.

He deciding to give Davros regeneration energy.

He trying and failing to explain to Clara his duty of care.

Believing he has to die and being totally chill about it while Clara is in total dread.

Admitting that he is rewriting history for the main objective of saving Clara.

Trying to trick the vikings with a yo-yo.

He realizing the message of his face and saving Lady Me.

Discussing with those two zygorns in the kids playground.

The zygorn speech obviously.

The entire ending of Face The Raven.

Pretty much everything in Heaven Sent and Hell Bent.

He finally getting his turn of entering The Tardis "for the first time".

The entire ending of The Husbands Of River Song.

Trying to erase Bill's mind only to get called out by her and getting tormented by the photos of River and Susan.

He celebrating christmas with Bill and going back in time to take photos of her mom as a christmas present for her.

His handshake with Nardole when Bill finally says that it's bigger on the inside than the outside.

"Nobody is from space. I'm from a planet like everybody else".

Explaining to Bill why he is so unphased by horrible deaths happening in front of his eyes.

He getting cornered in Knock Knock and solving the conflict by solving the villain's relationship with his mother.

Starting a domino effect that would lead to a revolution that would cause the destruction of capitalism.

He saving Missy from being executed and scaring of the executioners.

Reading the veritas.

Calling The Doctor.

His propagandist pro-monk broadcast.

"Hidden amongst 7 billion there's someone like you".

All of his scenes with Missy tbh.

He eating with Bill while they sit on a bench as he explains why he cares about Missy so much.

The Doctor Falls speech of course.

His final stand against the Cybermen.

He finally remembering Clara.

"Doctor, I let you go".

These are just some of my favorite moments but I didn't want to name every single one because I didn't want to be here all day so these are just the ones that came to my mind.

#12th doctor #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi

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prismatic-bell · 1 year

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So I was listening to Christmas music at work today, because I do that sometimes. I grew up a gentile and still have fond memories of Christmas as a kid, even though I don’t celebrate it anymore. Anyway I thought this would be fun:

A FORMER GENTILE RANKS CHRISTMAS SONGS:

1. All I Want For Christmas Is You: I have no idea why people hate this song so much. Joyful, bouncy, fun to dance to. 6/10.

2. Mr. Heat Miser: this song is so stupid and that’s why I love it. The Christmas special it comes from is even stupider and I love it for that, too. Best versions of this song are the ones where the singers realize just how campy it is with no effort at all, and don’t try to “help” it (thus way, way overdoing it). 8/10.

3. The Little Drummer Boy: my mom loved this one, but all I can think is “ah yes, let’s play a loud instrument for a sleeping newborn, great idea.” Also at the end when they’re all “theeeen he smiiiiiled at me” like it’s all mystical and shit? Do you know why newborns smile? Because they have gas. They don’t actually know what a smile is yet. You woke up Jesus and he farted at you, little drummer boy. 4/10 because it makes me giggle inappropriately.

4. Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24: LISTEN. This song already slaps because it’s a takeoff on Carol of the Bells. It slaps even more because it’s got electric guitar. But the reason I’m about to rank it so high is the story behind it, which is that it’s honoring a man named Vedran Smailović, “the cellist of Sarajevo,” who spent 22 days during the Siege of Sarajevo playing Albinoni’s Adagio in D Minor in bombed-out buildings and the town square knowing he was under threat from both bombs and snipers. A man standing up in the face of death and saying with his actions “there will be death, but let there be music, or there’s no life, and I will die for a chance to live”? He’s not Jewish, but that’s still the most Jewish fucking thing I’ve ever heard. 1000000000/10.

5. O Holy Night: this song is actively triggering to me for not-fun reasons. Negative infinity/10.

6. The Holly And The Ivy: I’m 34 and still don’t understand the narrative structure of this song but it brings with it heavy memories of wrapping (and unwrapping) presents in the early 90s, so I kinda dig it. 7/10.

7. Snoopy’s Christmas: nothing says “Christmas” quite like Snoopy the beagle trying to shoot down a WWI sniper plane. This song is absolutely baffling but I give it credit for trying. Also my mom liked it so I have to give it a +1 for that. 5/10.

8. Last Christmas: GET OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKING FUCK why are there 4048263958327 versions of this godawful song who LIKES this song it’s so stupid and doesn’t even have a good melody to make up for inane lyrics, what the fuck. 1/10.

9. Christmas Shoes: the only reason Last Christmas is #2 on my list of terrible Christmas songs. A perfect demonstration of self-righteous slacktivism Christianity in the form of consumerism. @sailorzeo reminded me a couple days ago this song exists and I don’t know that I’ll be able to forgive her. 0/10.

10. Silent Night: it’s not a bad song per se, but I’m so tired of every year seeing a fluff piece about “the humble origins of Silent Night.” We all know, WE ALL KNOW. If we don’t know it’s because we don’t care. I want to hear about the humble origins of Please Don’t Shoot Me Santa. Now that’s probably a story. 3/10.

11. Santa Claus is Coming to Town: Ah, the song that’s made generations of poor kids and kids who aren’t part of the culturally-Christian hegemony cry and feel terrible about themselves. I’d give it 1/10 for that, but here’s the truth, the Christmas special that goes with this song is SO FUCKING UNHINGED I have to take it into consideration because they somehow made Santa into a communist, anarchist, and capitalist all at once. Also this special was made during the Cold War and you can literally see the moment they went “oh shit, we made Santa a commie, uh uh uh AND THEN HE GOT MARRIED ON 25 DECEMBER TO CELEBRATE THE BIRTH OF OUR LORD. BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN THAT. UNLIKE THOSE DIRTY REDS.” Amazing. 3/10.

12. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: the song reminding us that if you’re unusual, you’re worthless unless you can be exploited by the masses. I’d give it 1/10 but Christmas Shoes has, by force, put this scale on a MASSIVE curve, so I will grudgingly provide a 2/10.

13. Fairytale Of New York: this is a complicated one. The original version includes a queer slur. In the last few years, new recordings have rewritten the lyrics to fix it, but a lot of the fixes are…bad. In a couple of new recordings the artists literally just leave this very obvious pause where the word should be, like they think they’re being cheeky. At the same time, it’s a fascinating song because it’s about lives that aren’t your typical Christmas story, and the melody is great. 6/10 for the Pogues and a later cover by Mostly Autumn (if you happen to have that cover PLEASE TELL ME), 4/10 everyone else.

14. Joy to the World: if this wasn’t a Christian song I’d be tempted to make it my alarm clock. I don’t agree with the thrust of its message, but I enjoy the enthusiasm. 8/10.

15. Baby, It’s Cold Outside: the most beautiful example of “what was once progressive is now wildly outdated,” the OG version by Dean Martin is literally a chick who’s looking forward to getting railed but has to put up a front first for her reputation (hence “say, what’s in this drink?”—when the song was written this was a coy way to say “is this alcohol? Gee, if this is alcohol I can’t be responsible for my actions”), and the narrative doesn’t shame her for this. I personally think the Idina Menzel version actually does a really great job at rescuing the storyline, and I’m also fond of the Glee version. With the original intent of the song taken in mind, I’ll give it a 6/10.

16. Walking In The Air: this is not actually part of my christmassy childhood. I first encountered it in college, via Pandora back when Pandora was actually good. Apparently it comes from a British Christmas special. There’s a version by Nightwish, and Nightwish automatically makes everything better, but the lyrics are so haunting and adventurous, it’s great. Solid 9/10.

17. It’s A Marshmallow World: the bane of my childhood holiday concert existence. This one and Walking In A Winter Wonderland. We did both every single year. I’m sure they’re very nice songs for people who haven’t had them done to death. 4/10.

18. Thank G-d It’s Christmas: my introduction to non-1960s Christmas music. It’s not quite as standout to me these days, but it’s by Queen, which means there is only one possible rating, and that’s 10/10.

19. White Christmas: most people don’t realize this song took off like a rocket because it was released only days after the US entered WWII. While it wasn’t specifically about being a soldier, Bing Crosby once said the most difficult thing he ever did in his life was singing this at a USO concert in front of a hundred thousand crying GIs, without crying himself. I give the Bing Crosby version 10/10 for actually having some heart and meaning behind it. Most other versions just kinda ring hollow.

20. Santa Baby 2: betcha didn’t know there’s a sequel to the original by Eartha Kitt. It’s just as hilarious, perhaps even moreso. Technically it was also released under the name “Santa Baby,” but that’s not very helpful in this conversation. 8/10.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. A correct and accurate ranking.

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misspearly1 · 2 years

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Chp1 || Chp2 || Chp3 || Chp4 || Chp5 || Chp6 || Chp7 || Chp8 || Chp9 ||

Pairing: WereWolf!Joel Miller x You (Female Reader)

Summary: Looking back on how your life has turned out this far, you often wonder if you got more than you bargained for when finally finding your safe haven within the walls of Jackson. They have it all; food, shelter and electricity, but what else did you come to discover that lives within this thriving community? And how did that discovery change your life?

WC: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minor DNI. Not a whole lot of warnings here folks. Joel is still being an ass to reader. If you're squeamish about hunting, I would pass on this one as there are mentions of dead animals.

AN: Ooooh, ok ok ok. I'm liking the way I'm taking this story. I hope ya'll like the little twist in this chapter, but do not fret as all shall be revealed as the story unfolds. Much love, folks. ❤️

Watching the snowflakes landing on the tips of your fingers as you held your hand up in the air, you cherished the moment of peace and harmony you had being able to admire the fluffy white substance.

Misery, sickness and the chance of death is usually accompanied with the harsh winter months, but living within the safety and comfort of Jackson provides all the better and more appreciative qualities to winter - like admiring the pretty little snowflakes dissolving on your fingers.

A month has passed since you moved into Jackson, and although it was an adjustment at first trying to sleep without the need to be on constant guard, you have found your place within the community comfortably. Maria insisted that you take all the time you need to find work suitable to your skillset, but after thirty days of rest and settling in, you are finally ready to give wall duty a try.

How hard can it be? You guard the wall and if you see anything suspicious, radio call for backup. It sounds fairly simple and it's not like you won’t be prepared, you’ll have weapons and ammunition in case there's any trouble.

Wall duty sounds like easy work. You assume and smile at the sound of innocent giggles from behind you. Kids running rampant and playing in the snow, it was nice to see the young ones living the lives they should be and it made you wonder about your own childhood memories too, but they felt like a distant memory, bringing a pang of sadness for only remembering the turmoil and violence that this world gave you. “Next up!” The butcher yells, pulling you out of you away from the saddening revelation that you cannot the childhood you had before the outbreak.

Stepping forward and flashing Stanley a smile, the man didn’t always smile back but you cared very little as you lifted your sack of fresh kill off the slushy ground and placed it on his blood-stained table. Three rabbits - one of them white, which was a bitch to catch given surroundings - two ferrets, one badger, a squirrel and last but not least, a big meaty beaver.

Hoping to cash them all in for a nice chunk of tokens, you have your eye on a little ornament sitting atop of a stall down the road a ways. Maria set up a whole range of festive activities this week considering the snow only began last week. Activities such as setting up a street market during the daytime this week and next, then watching the kids decorate the large Christmas tree tomorrow evening before turning the lights on, as well as the winter themed cookout in the restaurant or the winter themed dance that’s being held in the church on Saturday night.

There was lots to do this week and it’s been busier than usual for everyone, including you, but first you wanted to try and get as many tokens as you possibly could to grab that little ornament and possibly a book from Ginny’s stall with anything regarding mythological creatures. You still haven’t solved the mystery of who the wolf is, but maybe now with a book full of information, you can find out who it is that saved your life that night in the forest. “I can give you twenty-five tokens for the whole lot.” Stanley cuts through your thoughts with his absurd offer.

“What?” You retort, shaking your head. “No way. There’s at least forty, maybe fifty tokens worth of clean kills here-” stopping yourself midway, you point to the white rabbit and cringe. “Yeah ok. Maybe this isn’t so clean but the rest are worth a lot more than twenty-five tokens.”

“Thirty tokens.” Stanley countered. His face was cold as steel and his voice emotionless, but you tried your hand at haggling with the man. Narrowing your eyes and standing a little taller, as if you could even intimidate a six foot tall middle aged man with an impressive white beard, you looked down to items and took the beaver away. “Okay. Twenty-five tokens it is, Stanley.”

The badger was lean and slim, much like the rest of the small carcases, but the beaver had been beefing up for the winter. A clean coat that can be used for pelts and a lot of meat on its bones, you know that this one is by far the best out of the bunch, and it’s the one that Stanley wants the most.

You almost broke your poker face when watching him stroke his long beard, looking down at the animals once more before looking up into your eyes. He was contemplating it. Although your expression remained blank, in your mind you were already cheering for your victory. “Forty tokens.” He broke and countered with his final offer. “But take the rabbits back. I have too many of them.”

“Deal.” Sealing it with a handshake, you swapped the beaver for the three rabbits and claimed your forty tokens. With a goodbye nod to Stanley, you finally allowed yourself to smirk with your victory, eliciting the man to huff before you walked away chuckling. It was indeed a great bargain. You now have three rabbits to barter and tokens to spend.

Heading for the restaurant first, you met Melinda inside and traded all three rabbits for a medium sized tub of beef stew with two fluffy oven baked dumplings. That woman knows how to cook and you know she’s going to whip up something real nice with those rabbits for the winter cookout, so everyone wins in this scenario. Keeping your tub of food for wall duty tonight, you placed it inside your bag carefully so as to not let it spill and continued down the street to buy your ornament and hopefully a book with answers about supernatural wolves.

After finding the ornament amongst all the others on the table, you pointed it out and handed twenty-five tokens over to the old woman minding the stall. Rather pricey yes, but it was worth every single token as you lifted it up to inspect closely. It was a cloaked woman sitting with the moon in her lap, looking magical and beautiful with her bronzed coloured skin, which paired well with the purple cloak tied together with leaves around the neck. The ornament itself was large too, just big enough to be placed at the centre of the mantle on your fireplace.

You’ve had your eye on this all week since the street market opened and it’s going to pair beautifully with your dreamcatchers hung on the fireplace. Crafting the dream catchers yourself, you plan to paint your concrete hearth black with little specks of white, to make it look dreamy like the stars above. Just little TLC touches you have made to make your house a home. After thanking the old lady for keeping the ornament for you, you then moved on to the next stall to find a book.

“Hey. Me again.” You laugh bashfully to Ginny with a small wave. She waved too, and smiled, but didn’t speak. Ginny doesn’t talk a whole lot and she is an exceptionally beautiful woman. The type of beauty that intimidates you, but you often wonder if she doesn’t know how beautiful she actually is. When she does speak, she is soft with her voice and a hell of a lot more shy than you.

Nominating her as the official bookworm of Jackson when seeing her collection of books for the first time, she spends more time reading than any other activity. A lot of young adults around Jackson are caught doing the usual rebellious activities, but Ginny doesn’t. She tends to hide away in her own comfortable little bubble.

Either that or she is just really good at not getting caught in those rebellious activities. These are just assumptions you’ve made after meeting her a handful of times and seeing her around town always by herself, but taking advantage of the mutual sheepish nature you both have, you enjoyed the quietness while browsing over the collection of books she was willing to give up.

There were a lot of educational books, but none regarding information around wolves, or fictional wolves, and the small selection of fiction were action and adventure, romance or children's books, thus causing you to hit a wall. Until you saw that Ginny had a little bag by her feet filled with more books. “Hey, Ginny. I’m looking for fantasy books, like fairy tales and folklore. Do you have any?” Looking down to that bag of hers while you asked, she nodded and lowered down the book she was engrossed with.

Lifting the bag up and rummaging around inside, she pulled out an old weathered book and your eyes widened with how thick it was, but seeing the title ‘The Bible of Mythological Creatures’ caught your attention the most. Information about a supernatural wolf would certainly be in there, and you had to have that book. Whatever the cost. Wondering what that cost could be, you looked up to Ginny with a smile. “What can I give you for it? I only have fifteen tokens, but I’m guessing those are books that you don’t really want to give away.”

“Yeah, but I brought them along in case someone can offer me a good price.” She shakes her head, but rolls her lips in thought for a solution. “How about you give me fifteen tokens and an extra ten everyday this week? I don’t want to go beyond the walls hunting or scavenging things for tokens, but I would like to buy something from another stall.”

“Yes. That’s perfect.” Nodding to her, you handed the tokens over and took the book, promising that you’ll be back tomorrow. “Thank you, Ginny. I won’t let you down.” You already had ideas on ways to repay her for this. As well as hunting for more animals, you could bring in some supplies and get more tokens. Sixty-five tokens for one book may be high, but you like Ginny and appreciate that she was willing to put her trust in you to pay her back everyday.

Saying goodbye to her and turning to leave, you accidentally bumped into someone's chest. It was like a brick wall, strong and sturdy, causing you to stumble a little. “I’m sor-” You were about to apologise, but lost the ability to speak as it was Joel Miller looking down at you through half lidded eyes. Tommy was there too but you didn’t take notice of him just yet as your sole focus was attached to the way Joel's chest puffed out with an annoyed sigh. With one raised brow, his jaw clenched as he maintained your eye contact, staring at you with disgust.

Jesus. Settle down, it was an accident. Scowling at the man for his actions, your facial expression spoke for you as Joel shakes his head with a tut and moves past you, purposely brushing your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, how’yer doing?” Now you finally noticed that his brother was there, and the sound of his voice greeting you halted your urges to confront Joel.

“Hi, Tommy. I’m doing okay and you?” Replying to him nicely, you can’t say you ever have the same tone of voice for his older brother. Joel still doesn’t trust you, he still believes that you’re working for the bandits, which is just ridiculous. A whole month has passed and the man can’t seem to understand that you’re not a threat to Jackson. This is your home now, and he has to get used to it.

“All prepared for your shift on the wall later?” Tommy asks. You liked that he made an effort to talk to you, unlike his brother who was currently muttering something under his breath over your shoulder. ‘Mistake’ is all you could make out, and simply because Tommy told Joel to knock it off, you know that his comment was aimed at you. Oh how your blood boils because of one man. “I’m all set, Tommy. Thanks.” You smile, ignoring his brother's mumbling. “See you later.”

Tommy returned the goodbye, but as you walked away, you heard the man reprimanding his brother for the way he talks to you, and that kept the smile on your face. It felt good to have someone in your corner, especially the leader of Jackson's husband. Those accusations about you working for the enemy had somehow spread around the community and it didn’t take a genius to know who it was that started it.

Maria and Tommy snuffed out those rumours immediately, reassuring their residents that you aren’t working with bandits, but you still get sceptical looks from others. That’s Joel’s handy work. He simply couldn’t accept that you aren’t the enemy and took it upon himself to make others believe that you are too, but you’ll show him and the community of Jackson that you are one of them.

Tonight you’re going to breeze through your shift on the wall and show everyone that you can play your part in protecting them, that you’re a part of this town and you’re here to stay.

*tick tick tick tick*

Sighing as you look at the watch on your wrist, it’s just gone four seconds past midnight and your shift on wall duty has dragged exceptionally slow thus far.

Underestimating just how boring this job would be, you’re glad that you brought some things along to keep you entertained. You ate the beef and dumplings as soon as you started four hours ago, and are now enjoying a snack while reading through The Bible of Mythological Creatures, where you also underestimated just how many mythical creatures there are.

Considering zombies are a part of mythology and infected people with the same characteristics roam this world now, you’re wondering what else in this book could be true. If werewolves are real, then are banshees, vampires and hellhounds real too? I hope not. You think to yourself upon remembering the creatures you’ve seen in this book so far.

Although this chapter of the book was full of information, there was too much information from too many sources for you to narrow down your search. There were traces of wolves dating back centuries from all over the globe in many different cultures, each with different origins and explanations, however there were a few points that were consistent throughout. A lycanthrope is either born from a cursed bloodline, or they’re bitten, but who? You ask yourself before lifting your head from the book and gazing across the open plains outside the walls.

Who in Jackson could have been bitten or born into the bloodline? And if they are born into it, are there more? Most of the community are families, what if there is a whole family of werewolves living inside these walls. You had too many questions unanswered and no one to talk to about this. Who would even believe that you have seen a werewolf. What if it was just a regular wolf and I dreamed everything?

Self doubt got in the way during your thought process. You tried to think back on that fearful night one month ago, remembering any and all small details of that person you saw in the forest. After coming face to face with the wolf and you passed out from shock, you fought hard to open your eyes once more and watched that wolf shift into a human. The next time you awoke, you’re in a clinic room within Jackson, and that can’t be a coincidence.

Someone in Jackson brought you to the wall before scurrying off just in time for Joel to find you laying in the grass. You weren’t dragged there. You were carried. Carried by someone who is warm and strong. You remember feeling safe wrapped up in their arms, but it still brings the question on who that could have been. Joel crossed your mind as a suspect. His story sounded shady and he certainly fits the criteria of a werewolf being big, burly and mean, but that person who you saw in the woods didn’t match Joel’s features. That person was slim, and they were naked too as a matter of fact. Probably tore their clothes from the shift, you assume.

Crossing Joel out but keeping him in mind for an associate, you suspect he knows about the wolf or maybe even knows who it is, hence his problem with you. You’re curious and you know too much. That’s why Joel is an asshole. Either that, or he is just an asshole for the fun of it. You’ve done nothing wrong to the man and you’ve seen the way he is with others. Politely spoken, caring and compassionate, but you don’t receive any of that treatment, which further emphasises your assumption that Joel knows about the wolf. He has to.

Looking back down to the book upon feeling your brain spiral out of control, you licked the tip of your finger and turned the page, but gasped in horror at the images in front of you. Two soul piercing eyes glowing amber from the page reminded you of the wolf's eyes that you saw and you slammed the book shut. They felt familiar. Too fucking familiar. Like you’ve seen them before.

Deciding to give reading a break for now, you focus your attention on your job and look for any anomalies along the wall, however you caught something moving in the corner of your eye. It was something grazing along the tree line, but it was too far to see. Grabbing the long rifle that Tommy loaned you, you lifted it up and looked through the scope. The hairs on the back of your neck stuck up like tendrils as you immediately thought of the wolf, but it couldn’t be. Wolves don’t have antlers. Those are some big antlers too.

Narrowing your eyes, you watched the animal closely while reaching for your radio. Mark was on wall duty tonight too, but he was further along the wall in post two. You want that animal, it’s gonna provide those sixty five tokens for Ginny, maybe even more. “Hey Mark, answer me a question.” You say into the mic then wait for an answer, and when he came back asking what your question was, you clicked the button once more to speak. “I got a big buck in my line of sight. Will you cover for me while I go out and get it?”

“You sure you don't want me to go out there and get it for you?” The man offered, bringing a smile to your face as you contemplated it. Honestly, that sounded a lot better. Mark is bigger than you and stronger too, he’d have a much easier time bringing the buck back, however the shot is going to draw attention and you need to warn Maria beforehand. “Yeah, I’d like that if it isn’t too much trouble for you, but first let me check that it’s okay with the boss.”

“Yes. That should be fine, but I’ll stand by for confirmation that Mark is back safe.” Maria answers after you explain your plan to kill and capture the animal. Understanding her need for reassurance of yours and Mark's safety, you lined up your shot first and gave a warning through the radio before firing. The sound whipped across the land before you like a boomerang and you heard the thud of the bullet landing from all the way out here.

Reporting every step to Maria, you watched Mark climb down from his post and sprint across the field towards the trees, however his voice then came through the radio with surprisingly good news. “Y/N, this ain’t no buck. It’s a moose. A big ass moose.”

“What? No way?” You reply, excitement of the news evident in your voice, but the thought of him struggling to bring the dead animal back crossed your mind. “Shit. Moose are big right? Can you manage it by yourself Mark?”

“I’m most likely gonna need a hand.” He admits, unashamed. Maria’s voice cuts through the radio next with a demand for you to keep him in your line of sight while she sends someone along to help Mark. Confirming her order, you did exactly as she asked and kept Mark in your line of sight while waiting for the help to arrive, however a second sight of movement in the treeline caught your attention and you flicked your rifle across to inspect it. Eyes widening with fear, you grabbed the walkie and yelled down the mic. “Mark run!!”

It was the wolf, running with speed directly for him.

Firing off a round and missing the wolf by a long shot, you ignored the pleas from Maria asking what’s wrong and abandoned your post to help. The man was already running across the field when your feet touched the ground below. He heeded your warning seriously and took zero chances on waiting to find out why he needed to run. Mark acted exactly like you expected him to. Like his life was on the line.

After catching sight of the wolf’s golden eyes over his shoulder, you kept on running and watched as they disappeared into the shadows. “Mark, go back and bring more help.” You yell while passing the man and picking up your speed. Maria’s voice came through on your radio again, and yet you still ignored her demanding pleas while approaching the treeline.

Just past the bush, you could see the moose laying on the ground, but beyond that was the wolf's tail swishing side to side as it trotted away. I knew I didn’t dream the whole thing. You think as you recognise the features on the wolf. Black furred and supernaturally big, it’s the same one you saw that night, and you know that there is a human inside. “Y/N, don’t you do it.” Another command came through your walkie. “Don’t you dare go inside. Wait for us to get there.” It was Joel demanding you to wait, and it was another demand that you ignored as you entered the treeline.

Who are you protecting, Joel?

Leaving the church in Jackson with your head hung low, you’ve just received the most humiliating reprimanding of your life from Maria for disobeying her command, and her brother in laws too.

You followed that wolf for a couple yards before the Millers caught up with you and escorted you back to the community. Though you persisted about following the trail that led to a dangerously big threat - a human that poses a great risk to Jackson if they should ever develop a desire to kill the residents - Maria and Tommy didn’t believe that it was a supernatural wolf. It was just like you guessed it would be. They thought you were crazy.

Joel however, his actions throughout the whole ordeal only confirmed your suspicions. Not once did you mention werewolf, or else people will really think you’re crazy, but he did that on his own accord while belittling you for your actions tonight. A slip up maybe? Joel definitely knows who it is, and he is certainly protecting their identity, but even though you were feeling ashamed after the man managed to turn everyone against you, your hunger to find the truth didn’t waver.

Leaving the church with a plan of action in mind, you’ve been investigating this the wrong way. Joel is your lead suspect. He will lead you to the wolf, and then you can prove to Maria that there is a bigger threat here in Jackson other than your ‘disobedient nature’, but it was as if the man himself knew you had a plan as he followed you out of the church, telling you to get your shit together. You just have to get one more word in, don’t you Joel?

“Why?” Halting your walk and turning around, the temptation to bite back took over your ability to restrain yourself, and even Joel looked surprised that you retorted. It caught him off guard, yet he narrowed his eyes with the faintest smirk on his lips. “Why?” He repeats your words, perching both hands to his hips while raising one brow. You’re not dumb, you know he’s giving you a chance, a chance to keep quiet and walk away but you’re way beyond the realms of rage to do that now.

“Yes, why should I get my shit together?” You smile. A genuine teasing smile with enjoyment in your tone. “Especially when I know what you’re trying to do here.”

“And what do you think it is that I’m trying to do here, huh girl?” Joel grumbles, his tone of voice deep, but underlined with your last warning to back out, however you know you’ve got under his skin. Really got under his skin this time, not like before where he was using intimidating tactics to get you to back off from finding the truth, which would work on others if they were in your same predicament. But not you. You’re done with being afraid and defenceless. And Joel will soon come to see that. Not answering his question, you left the man standing in the street with only a wink before turning to make your way home.

A small gesture that lets him know without a need for words that you’re onto him and you will not be getting 'your shit together'.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Tagging:

Werewolf Joel Miller: @kirsteng42 @marydjarin @extraneous-trip @dins-cyare @supernaturalgirl20 @supernaturalgirl @joelsflannel @luvmeijii @hb8301 @squidwell

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delphi-dreamin · 2 years

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Pact Marks

A/N: Two in as many days? How? Idk, but thanks so much for all the feedback on part 4! I honestly felt like a kid at Christmas looking at my notifications.

Warnings: None

Pt 1: Mammon | Pt 2: Levi | Pt 3: Beel | Pt 4: Asmo

Pt. 6: Belphie | Pt 7: Lucifer

Part 5: Satan

“I can’t go back and change the circumstances of my birth. But, how I choose to live my own life has nothing to do with Lucifer.” Satan pauses, letting out a soft chuckle. “It’s funny. When I say it like that, it all sounds so simple.”

He fixes his gaze on Delphi, his face flushing as he sees the light pink dusting on her cheeks. She looks up at him expectantly, violet eyes wide and breath shallow. If he concentrates hard on her neck, he can see just how fast her heart is hammering. He takes in a steady breath.

“The entire reason I was able to face my issues is because of you, Delphi. You’re the one who helped me to be honest with Lucifer…and with myself as well.” He smiles at her. “You want to make a pact with me, don’t you? Well, it just so happens that I don’t like owing people favors. So if this ends up helping you like you helped me, then I’d like to make a pact with you. Okay?”

Delphi smiles wide, eyes misty. Her previous encounter with Satan had been nothing short of a disaster, so for him to come to her willingly feels like a dream. She feels lighter than air as she nods, unable to properly form the words to agree.

“Great! Then that makes us even,” the demon says.

As the words of his oath float over her, Delphi begins to feel a warmth in her chest. It spreads to her limbs first, setting her fingers and toes tingling. Then it hits her brain and she feels as though she’s trying to think through a fog. She’s hit by a wave of dizziness as the warmth slowly increases in intensity to an inferno, feeling like it’s going to burn through her at any moment. She’s felt this before. Much less intense, but she has felt it.

“So that’s what your rage feels like,” she breathes after he finishes the oath. Her chest feels tight and she’s still a bit dizzy, but she doesn’t feel like she’ll be consumed.

Satan looks down at her, eyes widening briefly in shock. Her irises, normally almost the same violet pink as the twins’, are ringed by glowing electric green. He looks further down at her clenched fists and notices something on the inside of her thigh, just barely being covered by her skirt.

“Did the others get to choose where they put their marks on you?” he asks, as nonchalant as he can manage.

Delphi’s eyes snap back into focus and back up to his. She shakes her head. “Asmo and Beel did, but I placed Mammon’s and Levi’s. Why? Did you have a spot in mind?”

“I do, actually,” he muses, letting his eyes wander to her only other exposed pact mark, Levi’s on her bicep. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” Delphi replies. She hasn’t forgotten that Lucifer is standing only just down the hall, probably watching. She also hasn’t forgotten what happened when Asmo gave her his mark. Her reactions have only gotten more intense the more pacts she’s made, and dread grips her stomach at the thought of her reaction to Satan’s. If the rush of Wrath earlier was anything to go by, she’s worried that something worse could happen.

The blond demon in front of her takes a step closer, his eyes not leaving hers as he raises the hem of her skirt with his fingertips. Delphi has half a second to prepare before he presses his palm onto her left outer thigh and the rush of heat overtakes her again. She clenches her jaw so hard she’s afraid she’s going to break a tooth, but the rage inside her keeps building. She feels it like a wildfire within her and like electricity dancing on her skin. And then she focuses on Satan’s eyes, glowing bright green.

“This is your wrath?” Satan breathes through gritted teeth. “What happened to make you so angry?”

The inferno continues to rage, drawn to the surface by the formation of their pact. It feels like it’s sucking the air from her lungs, making it more and more difficult to stay upright. She clenches her fists tightly, clinging to the pain of her sharp nails digging into her palms to stay conscious. This isn’t a normal reaction, she knows. She knows she shouldn’t feel like she’s going to be ripped apart by this sin, and yet…

Her legs shake when the heat dissipates, and she grabs onto Satan to keep from collapsing onto the floor runner. He catches her easily, watching as the green glow in her eyes fades and the mark on her thigh settles to black. He continues to support her until she catches her breath and the strength returns to her legs. Delphi finally stands on her own, straightening her skirt and nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s unable to look at the Avatar of Wrath directly, gaze falling anywhere but on those emerald green eyes.

She clears her throat and says, “To answer your question, a lot happened. But I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Let’s go find the others, okay?”

Satan nods stiffly, turning to follow as she brushes past to rejoin Lucifer.

---

“There y’are, Satan! What took ya so long?” Mammon exclaims as his brother walks through the door. Levi and Asmo turn to look up at the door where Satan stands, back against the wood and nearly pale as a sheet.

“Did you make a pact with Delphi?” Beel asks, recognizing the expression on Satan’s face as the same or a very similar feeling Beel had had when he’d made his pact with the human.

Satan nods and replies, “Yeah, I did.”

“Ooh! How’d it go?” Asmo gushes.

“She is so angry,” Satan breathes, looking up at the rest of his brothers with wide eyes.

“Delphi?” Levi scoffs.

“Sweet little innocent, bubbly Delphi?” Asmo laughs. “Well, not so innocent. But sweet, bubbly Delphi? Satan, are you sure?”

“Hey! Whaddya mean ‘not so innocent?!’” Mammon demands, jumping up from his seat at the far end of his sofa.

Before he can go any farther, Beel grabs him by the shoulder and forces him back down, growling, “Not the time.”

Mammon crosses his arms and huffs, but doesn’t try to get back up.

“I felt it, Asmo,” Satan explains. “When I put my mark on her, it was like every bit of rage she’d ever felt bubbled to the surface. I don’t know what her life in the human world was like before she came here, but it couldn’t have been very good. Her wrath was almost overwhelming. I haven’t felt anything like it since…”

---

#obey me #mc!delphi #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #i'm...in awe #i don't think i've ever churned out a fic this fast #granted it's short #but still #obey me mc #obey me oc

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inkycherie · 9 months

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I have had the most amazing summer. In July, my best friend came to visit. I brought her to Paris (her first time), showed her around my town and other neighbouring cities around Geneva, and we drove to the south of France. I made different meals for everyone to enjoy, danced to the loveliest music, and drank the best wine(s).

The third week of August, I went back to the Philippines. We had a long overdue family reunion. Our uncle from Canada also came to visit with his family, and my cousin who works for months at a cruise ship extended his vacation.

We all flew to Zamboanga del Sur to surprise my grandma and our extended family whom we haven't seen in 13 years ! We spent a week there living the simple life, eating pandesal for breakfast, and singing karaoke kahit brownout.

The first few days of September, I spent back in my hometown. I saw Bowie again. I didn't let any minute pass without cuddling him. Whenever I'm in the PH and everyone else is back home, my sisters and I stay in one bedroom with our parents (and Bowie), chatting away until we all fall asleep. These nights were even more special because we were all cooped up in one room while there was a storm outside. Felt just like the good old days when my sisters and I would spend nights holed up in our parents room trying to pass the time until electricity was back on.

I was also sooo happy to walk around the malls with Christmas music already playing in the background ! We bought surprise presents for our parents. My sisters and I chipped in to buy papa his dream TV, and mama a new iPhone. The rest of my money I spent on groceries, more presents for the fam, pasalubongs for Jon, books, Cheetos, Spicy Century Tuna, Vienna sausages, and Spam. lol

We spent my last week in Manila. Took mama, my sisters, and our aunt on a date - brunch in Wildflour and shopping at Rockwell, and then continued to shop in MOA. I wanted to make dinner for everyone, so I made sinigang na baboy which was perfect for the stormy weather. We had drinks with our cousins before bed (red horse, spicy Oishi, and isaw at bbq).

The next day, I brought my parents to IKEA so I can buy them stuff for the house. I could tell mama was so excited to drive back home so she can start using everything we got. Uncle flew back from Zamboanga later than everyone else so the day after he arrived, he went straight to the condo so we can spend more time with him. We asked him to make lola's bistek Tagalog as he is the only one who can make it exactly the way lola does. I am glad to report that I watched him closely as he was making it - even volunteered to be the sous chef - so I will make it for dinner tomorrow.

The day before my flight, the entire family celebrated my aunt and cousin's birthdays. I made some of my specialty meals, and we ordered a bunch of other food. Of course, there was cake.

I flew back to Switzerland on the 7th. I arrived on Friday at 8 in the morning, unpacked my stuff, ate pancit canton, and fell asleep at 16hr. I woke up at 3am still tired, but I managed to clean up and do all the laundry. I was hanging clothes at the balcony even before the sun was out. I found it hilarious. The rest of the day, I spent on the couch still feeling quite sluggish and brushing off the fact that I was having chills, and my nose wouldn't stop running.

Jon and I went on a quick café date and I couldn't taste the coffee nor the pastry I ordered which I found strange but thought nothing of. We did errands and bought groceries but I started feeling sicker as the hours passed. As soon as we got home, I checked to see if I had covid. The test came out positive. Dinner wasn't much fun. I was much sicker so I couldn't enjoy the food Jon prepared for me - he made me the perfect steak which I couldn't taste hahaha and some soup to make me feel better.

This morning, I woke up at 5am and called my family right away. The symptoms are getting worse, and now I have chills, body pains, and constant headache. I will rest more so I can feel better by tomorrow. I just find this to be a silly end to an incredible summer.

#personal #home #homesick

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bread-roses-and-chrome · 4 months

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Contractual Obligation

The static frothed and roiled in the corner, sputtering its crackling words. The curious monotone of the radio announcer preached its gospel of a dying world. "The Chinese occupation of Sakhalin continues into its fourth week. Negotiations continue in Rason and Seoul as the world watches with bated breath." "I saw the oil fields burning. In Guarico. Flames dancing in the sky like feasting imps, leering and laughing and crunching bones between their teeth. The infantrymen kept trudging on. None of them said a word." "Washington D.C. announced further restrictions on interstate travel, in accordance with the provisions of the Wayfaring and Roads Act." "The Sixth Republic of the Philippines celebrates the birthday of the beloved Chairman of the Council of National Preservation, Emilio Clemente Abracosa." Kurtis Dagohoy listened, but he did not listen at full attention. He was too busy setting up the interplay system. The odd mess of thick cables and wiring lay like spilled guts on the smooth concrete, picked apart only by worn, deft hands and the recognition of experience. He could tell them all apart in the dark by now. He could tell them apart in his sleep. He could tell them apart guided only by the flickering light of a fluorescent bulb, with nothing else to give and decrepitude and death in its sights. The drone of the electric fan pressed into the edge of his hearing, barely overcoming the warm, sickly air. 14:00. 37° in Manila today. "Not gonna show up for work, are you? Don't be an idiot," the metal voice from the tank whispered. It sounded like it had been through seven different voice changers, being filtered through corrugated iron and a tin can. Spoken by someone up from a long, long sleep. Aklanon painstakingly rendered by a woman who seemed to have never spoken this language before. Even though she had. All her life. Soothing, but not endearing, to most. Almost dead herself. Not to Kurtis Dagohoy. "You pay me better than they do. 50,000 ain't small in this economy, even with prices this high," he replied matter-of-factly. The man didn't even look up. "The day Mack-Ras or Veterans' Affairs give me enough to feed the kids is the day I die happy. Kaarawan ng Kanyang Kagalingan, bah! I applied for this last Christmas! Stingy little fuckers, all of them!" "Don't you talk like that about Abracosa!" The voice's sarcasm was unmistakable. Her confidence could get them killed. He liked that about her. Sometimes. "Sure, he's a coup plotter. Sure, he's thrown millions in ditches with bullets in their heads. Sure, the war in Mindanao's back on. And sure, the Junta's still in charge ten years after he promised to abolish it. But he'll save the Philippines! What's left of it!" "What's left of it? What's left of you!?" The man's laugh was hoarse, ruined by decades of nicotine, Ginebra, and untaxed moonshine. "I don't even know what's left of you! I can't see shit through this goddamn brine!" "You went there! You went there! I knew you'd get there, you son of a bitch! The laughter echoed through the musty, run-down apartment. Then it faded. The quiet whirring of the electric fan returned. The red glow from the tank reflected crow's feet and a salt-and-pepper beard. Contorted into the face of a scared, bitter man. ================================================ Next.

#cyberpunk #dystopia #writing #sci fi #philippines

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sergeant-spoons · 1 year

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Secret Santa ‘22 (Pt 2)

@rebeccapearson ~ Secret Santa Pt 2: electric boogaloo. I swear, these just keep getting away from me and getting longer! Your third fic will be published tomorrow (and it’s twice as long as today’s). I hope you like this one! 💕

Your Typical Annual Nixon Christmas Party

Pairing: Lewis Nixon x Female OC

Word count: 5629

Tone: Friends to lovers, mutual pining, only one bed, ballroom dancing, all my homies hate Stanhope Nixon, angst with a happy ending

Warnings: A bit risqué at some parts, nonsexual & nongraphic nudity (taking a shower), brief mentions of body shaming and childhood trauma (I repeat: all my homies hate Stanhope Nixon)

Prompt: “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

Summary: He needs a date to the annual family Christmas party to stick it to his father, and she’s more than happy to go along with the ploy—until she realizes just how bad his father really is. OR The one where Lewis Nixon loves her too much to ever let her go.

Read it here on AO3!

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"My father is hosting the annual Nixon Christmas party and I need a girlfriend ASAP."

Marisa blinks at Lewis. When he told her he had a favor to ask of her, something of this caliber did not cross her mind. They've been friends for so long that she can usually read him like a book.

Usually.

"Uh... why?"

"Because he'll be twice as unbearable if I go alone."

"Ah." Marisa feels a wave of sympathy. "So... you want me to be your-"

At the same time as Marisa says, "-fake girlfriend to get your father off your back?", Lewis agrees, "fake girlfriend to get my father off my back. Yes. Exactly."

"Why do you of all people need a fake girlfriend?"

He starts to answer, then hesitates.

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"I mean I'm surprised you can't find a real date." Marisa reaches over and dusts a piece of lint off his shoulder, adding, "Charmer that you are."

"I'm flattered," he chuckles, "but I'm not really... in that scene, right now."

She softens. "Right."

"If I don't go with someone," he admits, fiddling with the hem of his sweater, the one she bought him last Christmas, "he'll set me up with some socialite and I'll be married again by the end of the year. And I..." He glances aside. "I can't do that again. Not to me or to her, whoever she would be."

Marisa nods sympathetically, reaching over to smooth down his sleeve. She gets it. He's been divorced twice. No wonder he's not looking for anything right now.

"I understand."

His smile is a little sad.

"I knew you would." A beat. "So?"

They both know she'd go to the ends of the earth for him. It's only a matter of time before she agrees.

"Well," she supposes, having made up her mind, "because you are such a dear friend to me, I'll consider it."

"It's next week," he informs her quickly. "That should give you plenty of time to decide."

"Next week?" She scrunches up her nose as if anything could dissuade her now. "I'm not sure if I can get a dress in time."

"Oh, I took care of that."

Lewis goes over to the Christmas tree in the corner of his apartment and picks up a rather large box adorned with a big green bow. As he brings it over to the sofa, Marisa realizes it is labeled with her name. He comes back to the sofa and deposits it on the table, then slides it her way and gestures for her to take a look.

"Go on. Open it."

Marisa eyes him with playful suspicion; nevertheless, she accepts the box and draws it to her.

"Lewis Nixon, are you trying to bribe me?" she teases as she reaches out and tugs the bow off.

"What can I say?" Lewis shrugs as Marisa lifts the lid to reveal the most beautiful gown she's ever seen. "It reminded me of you."

"Lewis!" she gasps. "It's gorgeous."

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman."

She holds the gown to her chest and turns to him with tears of genuine gratitude in her eyes. Lewis shifts uncomfortably and offers her a slightly nervous smile.

"Hey, now, don't look at me like that."

"It's such a lovely gift."

"It's yours," he promises, "whether or not you go with me."

"Oh, Lewis—!"

"Merry Christmas, Risa. But, ah-" He clears his throat. "-you know, you might want somewhere to wear that dress-"

Marisa can't help the soft laugh bubbling up from a chest full of warmth for his kindness.

"Lewis-"

"-and what better place than a party? You'll go with me, of course-"

"Lewis-"

"-and everyone will see just how beautiful you are and be so incredibly jealous of me-"

"Alright, alright," she laughs, gently letting the dress fall back into the box. "You can stop buttering me up now. I'll go."

"You'll go? You'll go!" Lewis wraps his arms around her and plants a wet kiss on her cheek. "See, this is why you're the best."

"Yes, yes, I'll go-" Marisa wriggles out of his arms, laughing. "-but I've got one condition."

"What? Anything!"

"If it gets to be 10 o'clock and they've still got us trapped, we stage an escape."

Lewis sighs fondly, laying his hand over his heart.

"I could never have asked for a more perfect partner in crime."

A week later, they arrive at the house just before midnight, per Lewis' assumption that his father won't be up to 'greet' them. They carry their own luggage, to the tired-looking butler's relief, and follow him upstairs, trying to walk as quietly as they can past Stanhope Nixon's unfriendly quarters. Thankfully, they continue on and cross from the East Wing of the house to the West Wing, which is far more warmly lit and forgiving. They pass a bathroom with the door open and the light from the wired chandelier inside bleeding out into the hall. A woman in a silk dressing gown is sitting on the edge of a lavish bathtub, painting her nails. She waves lazily at Lewis through the open door and eyes Marisa curiously but not unkindly. They both wave back, and as they continue down the hall, Lewis leans toward Marisa's ear and mutters that she just met his sister Blanche.

"She's the good one, right?" Marisa asks, and when Lewis makes a face, she giggles softly. “Other than you.”

“Other than me, yes.”

"So you two get along?"

Lewis smiles, one side of his mouth turned up a little higher than the other.

"We bicker the same as any siblings, but I'll never let anyone say a bad thing about her, and she'll do the same for me." He ducks his head. "Well, anyone except..."

Marisa frowns sympathetically. "Anyone except your father?"

He doesn't respond, just turns his head aside as if he's ashamed of the answer, and Marisa knows she's right. She reaches out and takes his hand, and maybe it's a bold thing to do, but after a moment, he curls his fingers around her and relaxes. She catches him looking at their joined hands with a smile as they come up to the door the butler has indicated and her heart gives an unusual flutter.

What's that all about?

Before she can give it any more than a fleeting consideration, the butler is ushering them inside the bedroom, reaching for the light switch to reveal a handsome spread of maroon and gold. There's a grand old bed with a tall spruce headboard, a sideless bookshelf that Marisa is pretty sure is called an étagère, a Victorian-style chaise lounge, a dozen velvety pillows all across the furniture, and even a miniature Christmas tree draped with tinsel atop the dresser—and that's just at first glance. The butler explains there's a bathroom attached to one end of the room and a walk-in closet to the other, and as Marisa's still reeling, Lewis, who grew up accustomed to this luxury, thanks the man and bids him goodnight. The butler shuts the door behind him and it's only then that Marisa realizes this isn't meant to be just Lewis' space but both of theirs.

"Uh, Lewis?"

He's busy dragging their suitcases over to the dresser as quietly as he can and doesn't hear her, so she repeats his name.

"Lewis."

"Hmm?"

Marisa licks her lips, a nervous habit.

"How in the name of Father Christmas is there, in this enormous house, only one bed left?"

From where he's bent over, laying his suitcase down, Lewis looks up, tossing dark waves out of his eyes.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Marisa eyes the chaise lounge. It's pretty big, for a truncated couch with an asymmetrical back. The gold gilding is a nice touch. Lewis sees where she's looking and rises as he shakes his head.

"No, Risa. You're not sleeping on that old thing. There's plenty of room on the bed for the both of us."

Marisa knows he's right, but that little heart flutter has put a sort of nervousness into her that she's not used to feeling, and knowing Lewis has got something to do with it makes her a little wary to share a bed with him.

It's only one night, she reminds herself, and it's not like you haven't been friends for ages.

Lewis looks torn between wanting to apologize and wanting to tease, and it's so like him that Marisa relaxes.

If he didn't trust you, he wouldn't have asked you to come.

"Right," she says aloud, "we'll share the bed," and with that, the matter is settled.

The next morning, they wake up to the cold Winter sun, streaming through the window and illuminating the room. Before Marisa even opens her eyes, she knows it's too early, and from Lewis' soft, wordless grumbling, he feels the same. She snuggles further into him, then realizes what she's doing and freezes. His hand, which has been smoothing down her hair, stills after a moment, and she can feel it against his chest when he sucks in a sharp breath.

Maybe it's not too early to get up, after all.

Marisa tumbles out of bed, yawning, and sleepily flees to the shower. Lewis mumbles a good morning as she goes and she just bobs her head, too shy in the moment to reply with something just as mundane. The bathroom is just as ornate as the bedroom. Marisa starts the water running and turns to the sink to brush her teeth. She looks a little ragged, with her hair all mussed up on one side, her eyes drooping with drowsiness, and one side of her chin redder than the other from how she slept with it smushed into the pillow. She can't imagine how she must have looked to Lewis, creeping away into the bathroom like that. She must have seemed to him shamefaced or sheepish—but he knows better than to tolerate the notion. They both know what their lie is and that it is a lie, and that once this is over, they will still be friends and nothing more.

Marisa's heart gives a pang. She does her best to ignore it.

Once the water is hot enough, she steps into the shower and shuts the glass door behind her. Her whole body relaxes under the stream and she gives a long sigh. She takes a moment just to stand there, stretching her neck and arms, relishing in the water cascading down her frame. The Nixons spared no expense in building this mansion, and the water pressure is no exception.

"Risa?" comes a slightly awkward call from outside the door. Marisa almost misses it with the shower pounding past her ears. She leans out of the stream and acknowledges she heard him, wincing at how scratchy her voice feels and how rough it sounds.

"I'm, uh, I'm going downstairs to get some coffee. You want some?"

She does. When he comes back, she's brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She's opened the bathroom door to let the steam out (blowdrying always makes her dizzy, especially in a hot room), and when he pokes his head in, he's got one hand over his eyes.

"Coffee for the lady."

"Why, thank you, sir."

As Risa takes the mug, she notices the stiffness of his shoulders and the slight downturn of his brow. As soon as she's got the coffee, he tries to leave, but she takes his hand and pulls it down from his face so she can kiss his cheek. He still keeps his eyes closed, but he relaxes, and so does she—they're back on the same page.

"Are you decent?"

"Decently dressed? Yes. Decently caffeinated? I will be soon."

She takes a sip as he finally looks at her, and it scares her, just how much she missed those dark, intelligent eyes of his.

"Ooh, yum." She looks down into the coffee, hiding from this perfectly normal interaction. "Is that peppermint?"

Lewis shrugs, the corner of his mouth tugging up.

"I thought it'd be festive."

"Well, it's good. Thanks."

There's something tender in his eyes when he replies, "Sure," and Marisa has a strange inkling that it's been there all along.

After he's done with his own coffee, they swap, and he showers while she gets dressed. When he emerges, toweling off his hair, shirtless, she pretends she's not allowed to look at him and silently chastises herself for the heat creeping into her cheeks. As she faces away, putting in little earrings by feel, he tells her she looks nice. She thanks him, but then he hesitates, and when she asks what's the matter, he tells her they're going out for the day and she might want something warmer. He turns his back and she swaps her blouse for a sweater, and this time, she can't look away from his smile.

"Better?" she asks a bit meekly, and his smile grows.

"I like that color on you," he says, "it goes nice with your eyes," and before Marisa has time to even consider what he means, he's slipped back into the bathroom, clothes in hand.

They spend most of the day out in the city, avoiding Lewis' family (especially his father). They walk most of the way, but eventually, their feet grow tired and Lewis hails a taxi to take them to his favorite lunch spot. Blanche meets up with them there and stays with them for the rest of the afternoon. She and Marisa hit it off, so much so that Lewis jokes they should be each other's date instead. Marisa, who has taken to walking on his arm, teases him that he's jealous, and although he rolls his eyes, his cheeks have assumed a hint of pink, and he's quick to move on to the next distraction. Blanche shoots Marisa a wink and Marisa giggles despite herself—maybe there's something in the air today that's making her flutter her lashes just a little more every time Lewis looks her way.

They head back mid-afternoon to get ready for the party. Marisa and Lewis confine themselves to their room and play cards to pass the time, betting on promises that might make the inevitable event more bearable.

"If I win, you have to dance with me tonight."

"If I win, you have to dance with me tonight and let me dip you."

Marisa's winning streak is not to be broken. Lewis groans, tossing down his hand, and she reaches over to pat his knee in mock sympathy.

"It's okay," she says around a mouthful of chocolate, "I'll still let you dip me."

Blanche has warned them not to be late, but even then, they stall until they really can't put it off any longer. He takes his tux into the walk-in closet and shut the door, and just for kicks, she yells after him:

"No peeking!"

She hears a muffled laugh. "I wouldn't dare."

"That's right," she replies, getting a goofy grin on her face, and at the same time as she says "I'd kick your ass," he choruses, "You'd kick my ass."

Marisa prepares to wiggle her way into the gown, but to her surprise, when she steps into it, it slips right up her body like silk. She straightens everything out and feels a hint of pride when she manages to zip up the back all by herself. She hasn't looked properly in the mirror yet, but when she does, tugging at her hair, she just about freezes. Her hands drop down to her sides and she stares at herself for almost too long to be sensible. Lewis starts humming an old song from inside the closet and Marisa remembers she's not alone. Coming back to herself, she gives a slight turn to the left and then the right, just to test the flow of the gown. It twinkles in the light, and she gives a squeak, covering her mouth with her hands. Electrified, she bounces all around, watching the fabric ebb and flow, growing giddier by the minute. It's the most expensive piece of cloth Marisa's ever put on her body, and though a part of her feels like a fish out of water, she can't help but admire herself in the gown. When Lewis reappears, adjusting his tie, neither can he.

"Wow." He dares to whistle, and she blushes. "Risa, you look..."

"Good?" she suggests, shimmying to show him how the gown shimmers, and she thinks his jaw might drop.

"Stunning."

"Oh, you charmer, you," she refutes, feeling warm with affection, and comes over to help Lewis. "Here. Let me."

This has been a ritual of theirs for years, ever since they met at Officer Candidate School way back in '41. Marisa teased Lewis for being incapable of tying his own tie despite his wealthy upbringing, and Lewis shot right back, why don't you do it, then? She did, flawlessly, on the first try, and since that day, they've been inseparable. OCS led to the 101st Airborne and Easy Company, and they rode that train all the way to Europe and back. Somehow, throughout all of that, only rarely did they part. About a year after the war ended, Marisa made a quip at a party that the only reason Lewis still kept her around was to manage his ties for him. To her surprise, he drew her aside, gravely concerned that she truly believed what she'd said—for the first time in years, one of her jokes had gone right over his head.

I was only kidding. I know you love me too much to ever let me go, you big sap.

...

Lewis?

Look, Buck Compton's here. Let's go say hello.

It was a strange moment that Marisa still doesn't understand. Even stranger, they've never spoken of it since.

"Really, Risa," Lewis says, breaking the gentle silence and bringing her back to the moment, "you look exquisite."

Marisa chuckles despite the slight churning in her stomach. "You're not so bad yourself, Lew."

He softens. Though she's not expecting his arm to wrap around her waist, she's not startled by it. She's done with the tie, but she keeps ahold of it as he inches toward her and she reciprocates. She can feel his breath on her lips. He's never looked at her this way before—or maybe she's never noticed. His eyes keep darting between hers as if looking for a sign she doesn't know how to give. They're still drifting closer, and Lewis looks like he wants to do something about it—but then he steps back, smooths down his suit jacket, and offers her his arm.

"Shall we?"

Marisa hopes her sigh comes across as one of teasing chagrin and not of disappointment.

"If we must."

Lewis leads the way through the West Wing. He doesn't say a word and neither does she. They pass by Blanche's door—upon which she has pinned a sprig of mistletoe—and head for the main staircase. It isn't long before they can hear the music wafting up from downstairs. They're almost at the upstairs balcony when Lewis abruptly stops. In the shadows of the hall, he is able to hide his fear. For his sake, Marisa pretends she doesn't see it, but she can't help feeling twice as nervous. The butler from last night is standing at the top of the steps, introducing members of the Nixon family as they appear from their rooms and quarters throughout the house. God bless him, he's pretending he hasn't noticed them yet. Marisa is getting more and more anxious about making their grand entrance, and then Lewis turns to her and says he's got a better idea. She squeezes his arm and steps a little closer to his side, wordlessly communicating her relief, and he turns them back down the hall, explaining as they go. Half-hidden around the corner from his mother's old bedroom, there is a far plainer staircase that will take them around to the dining room, a smaller space adjacent to the ballroom. Someone will find them eventually, but this way, their arrival will be far less dramatic and might go mostly unnoticed.

"Ten o'clock," Marisa says quietly, pointing to the large grandfather clock adjacent to the landing.

"Ten o'clock," Lewis affirms with a nod, and just like that, they enter the lion's den.

Unfortunately, their arrival is one of note, and they are announced almost immediately. Standing awkwardly in the lofty arch between the dining room and the ballroom, they watch as the attention of all is redirected their way. Fury flashes in the icy eyes of a tall, hard-faced man who can be no other than Stanhope Nixon. He marches over and directs them to the center of the ballroom, loudly and sternly announcing that his son, the Nixon heir, must have the first dance with his date. The party began fifteen minutes ago, and dancing is already in full force; still, the host forces everyone to step to the side. Marisa's face feels hot. If this is how Stanhope treats his guests, she can't imagine what Lewis has had to deal with over the last twenty-eight years. All eyes are on them. Lewis looks like he wants to throw something—or throw up. They've been through a war and he's still frightened by his father. Marisa's afraid, too. When he sees her hand trembling on his arm, he takes it, squeezes, and draws her to him in the first position for a waltz.

"Ready?" he mouths as the music starts, and she's not sure how she finds it in herself to nod, but she does, and they begin.

Everyone is watching them. Marisa knows if she looks away from Lewis, she'll lose her footing, so she keeps her gaze trained on his, and that does the trick. For several months now, Lewis has been teaching her assorted ballroom dances. She told him once, several years ago, that she'd like to learn if she ever got the chance. Then the war ended and she became his neighbor in New Brunswick, and he, who seems to remember everything she's ever told him, offered to teach her. Tonight, his hand on the small of her back is soothing, and she admires him openly. His hair is neatly combed and coiffed. She wants to run her hands through it, knowing it will soothe him, but she can't. He's holding a great deal of tension in his handsome jaw, but she can see it slacken as they go through the motions without faltering. They make it through the dance, and as their undesirable audience politely applauds, they bow and wish to disappear.

The first hour isn't too awful, after that. Lewis walks Marisa around, introducing her to various family and family friends, some of which are actually quite agreeable. A very old woman with one pair of spectacles on her nose and another perched atop her feathery hair tells them point-blank that it's all her husband's fault for her son's wretched behavior. Lewis chuckles awkwardly and tries to placate her, but as soon as Marisa realizes the woman is Stanhope's mother, she interrupts Lewis and thanks the old matriarch for her sympathy. She brightens up (as much as she can for how slowly she moves) and pulls Marisa over to an excessively long sofa to tell her an equally lengthy story. In the half-hour that Marisa sits with Lewis' grandmother, no one bothers them except for one servant who's obligated to offer them hors d'oeuvres. Marisa is so grateful for the company that she almost blesses the old woman aloud. Then Lewis reappears and tells her they're wanted in the parlor, and her little bubble bursts. Once they have both bestowed his grandmother with a kiss on the cheek, he leads her away, whispering an apology in advance.

"What for?" she whispers back, but then they turn into the parlor, and Marisa understands.

Stanhope, Blanche, and Lewis' mother Doris are all gathered by the fireplace, talking stiffly and eyeing the doorway. Marisa only has time to recall that Stanhope and Doris are divorced before Stanhope spots them and drags them over, commanding that they join the conversation. The next twenty minutes are painful, to say the least, and Marisa does her best to maintain composure while answering every question under the sun as to her personal and professional life. Doris, with her upturned nose and wounded eyes, is clearly displeased to learn her son's date is a woman of literature. When Blanche starts to congratulate Marisa on her recent book deal, Doris interrupts and asks about Marisa's social life and what circles she runs in. Lewis is starting to look like he wants to jump out the window. At one point, Marisa mentions that she served in the Airborne too, and while Doris and Stanhope are practically appalled, she finds some relief in the gleam of admiration in Blanche's eye.

When she's finally unable to stomach Marisa any longer, Doris hauls Blanche off to meet a potential suitor. Marisa is confused why Blanche is looking at her pityingly until Stanhope tells Lewis to fetch him a glass of whiskey and she realizes she is the one in the mire. Lewis tries to take Marisa with him, but Stanhope won't permit it, and he leaves with a muttered promise to be back as soon as he can. Stanhope is neutral enough for a moment or two as they exchange a few words on the evening's décor, but then he eyes her up and down and she feels a shiver of disgust run up her spine. He's off like a shot, then, going on about how her dress doesn't fit her figure right, how unwomanly she is for still being unmarried at twenty-five (how he knew her age, Marisa doesn't know, but it makes her stomach churn to think), and how she ought to find someone more handsome than his son or else the babies will turn out hideous. She's half a second away from slapping him when Lewis returns and exchanges the whiskey glass for Marisa. Stanhope, peeved, saunters off to find ice (which Lewis purposefully left out of the drink), and Marisa falls into Lewis' arms, on the brink of tears.

"Wicked old bastard," she mumbles into his shoulder, and he hisses a breath through his teeth.

"Shit. You okay?"

"Ugh," she groans, huddling closer to him, her lifeline. "What a creep."

She has the feeling he'd hold her for as long as she needed, but people are starting to stare, and she knows she should step back. So she does, and when he asks her again if she's alright, she almost laughs, broken-hearted.

"I'll be fine."

His worried frown persists; she knows he can see right through her.

"Risa-"

"Not here." She shakes her head, touching her hand to her forehead. "How much longer do we have to stay?"

He considers for only a moment before he takes her hand and starts to lead her out of the parlor and back into the ballroom. Stanhope is at the bar against the far wall, drinking his whiskey. Doris and Blanche are a few yards away from him, talking to a suave-looking fellow that Blanche is trying desperately not to roll her eyes at.

"Lewis?"

"Not much longer, if you go along with this."

"With what?"

He wraps his arm around her waist, draws her to him, and asks in that low voice of his, scanning her face with a serious sort of hope, “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people—really kiss me—will you do it?”

She grabs his tie and falls back against the wall, smashing her lips into his. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed. Marisa feels hot all over as he runs his hands up and down her sides. When he pokes his tongue against her bottom lip, asking permission, she lets him in with a hum of desire. As his lips fall from hers and latch onto her neck, somebody whistles, and then Stanhope bellows. As light-headed as Marisa is, she knows in an instant that this is their cue to run. She grabs Lewis' hand and they take off, darting into the dining room and then up the side stairs. The grandfather clock chimes right as they turn the corner and Lewis, spooked, takes a tumble. Marisa helps him to his feet, and they take off again, still hand in hand, laughing to know it is ten o'clock on the dot.

"Where to?" Marisa asks, trusting him to lead the way.

"Not our room," Lewis replies, turning down a narrow hallway Marisa hadn't noticed before. "We've got to hide for a bit."

Footsteps come running up behind them, fast enough to catch them, and as they whirl around, Lewis jumps in front of Marisa—but it is only Blanche. She skids to a stop and almost falls forward as she bends over her knees, wheezing.

"Father sent me after you," she half-laughs, half-gasps. "That was quite the show you put on. I thought Mother was going to faint."

"You won't actually...?"

"Oh, God, no," she says in earnest, lifting her head to look at her brother and his date. "I just came to say my thanks. I would never have escaped if it weren't for you."

To both Blanche and Lewis' surprise, Marisa goes and hugs her.

"You'll get out of here someday, Blanche," she says softly. "You're so much more than these people."

"Well, shit," Blanche replies as they part, sounding a little choked up. "Don't make me cry. My makeup's going to run."

"Sorry," Marisa chuckles, and Blanche squeezes her hand, stepping back.

"I've held you up too long," she says. "Go hide yourselves in Grandmama's old room. She hasn't been able to make it up the stairs for a decade but they still haven't redone it."

"On our way," Lewis agrees, sharing a nod with his sister. "Happy holidays, Blanche."

"The same to you, Lewis."

The door they seek is in the corner of the West Wing, tucked away between a laundry room and the back of the house. Inside, the room is just as hot and stuffy as the rest of the house but not nearly as dusty as Marisa expects. When she finds the light switch and flicks it, she sees it's actually pretty nice. The furniture is more modest in here, something closer to what Lewis has in his apartment back in New Brunswick. For a moment, she wishes they were there, slow dancing to the Christmas music on the radio, him in his tux and her in her gown. She watches him as he crosses to the window and throws it open, and though it's freezing outside, the cold breeze is a welcome change to the stifling hot house. Marisa goes over to feel it and Lewis steps aside, allowing her the window space. She leans back on it, her elbows propped up on the sill and her low-cut dress exposing her back to the elements. Her chest feels sore from the cold and the running, but she feels doubly alive from that surreal, searing kiss.

"Did you ask me to do that just to piss them off?" she asks, still trying to catch her breath. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Terrified of his rejection, she starts laughing, but as soon as she does, Lewis takes her face in his hands and kisses her, hard.

"I love you," he whispers when they part, tenderly smoothing his thumb over her cheek. "I've loved you since that first time you fixed my tie and called me a lazy rich boy for not knowing how to do it myself."

Marisa's eyes are wet, and she blinks desperately, allowing the tears to fall so she can see Lewis clearly again.

"All the way back at OCS?" she asks hoarsely, and he leans closer, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"All the way back at OCS."

She can feel his lips brushing hers, and she wants to kiss him, but there's something more that needs to be said, so she lets him say it.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess," he whispers, his gaze dropping to her lips. "It wasn't fair of me to-"

She silences him with a kiss, trembling when he sighs into her mouth, eagerly giving up his apology.

"If you hadn't," she says, reluctantly parting from his lips, "you wouldn't have asked me to kiss you. And I wouldn't have had the courage to tell you..."

She walks her fingers up his chest to his chin and pulls him in for a slow, deep, breathtaking kiss.

"That you love me, too?" he guesses when they separate for want of air, his eyes sparkling with hope and longing and joy and a million other things that make her heart go wild in her chest.

"That I love you, too," she affirms, and he smiles, leaning his forehead against hers.

"So you liked that kiss, huh?"

Marisa laughs, swatting at his chest in retribution for ruining the moment, but he just grins and leans in.

"About that kiss..."

He crowds her against the window, careful not to let her lean too far back, and she hums happily, running her hands through his hair like she's wanted to all night.

"Where were we?"

He kisses her neck and she inhales sharply, tilting her head back to see the night sky up and behind her.

"Ah."

He smiles and she can feel it, his lips hot against her cool skin.

"Right here."

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

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venusorbits · 1 year

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uploaded on 2011 February

──── GET TO KNOW 아프로디테 - THE INTERVIEW

"Hi, everyone, 아프로디테 here. I am here with Wall Street Journal. Today, you will be getting to know me better." Clasping your hand together swaying back and forth on a swivel chair, "There are a lot of mysteries surrounding me right now and I will be letting you know about that. Let's go!"

'WHO ARE YOU?'

Laughing lightly licking your bottom lip. Keeping a bright grin on your face.

"Well-" You start, "I go by 아프로디테 but you can call me DITE, it's much more convenient than calling me Aphrodite all the time. But, my real name is Sage Park, I was born on January 1st of '96 in London, which makes me currently 15 years of age currently. I am an idol under YG Entertainment that I trained under for a year."

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN TRAINED FOR?'

"It's quite a typical process for a K-pop idol to be preparing, train in dancing, singing among other things before being introduced to the world... It's all a part of the process."

Waving your hand around as you explain.

"You can audition or you will be asked to audition for them. I was asked to audition for YG."

'CAN WE TALK ABOUT YOUR DEBUT ALBUM?'

"Sure." You agreed, gratefully taking it from a staff member's hand that popped into frame and mumbling a small 'thank you' under your breath.

"I debuted not too long ago, to be more specific, on January 16th with my album 'MEAN!'"

You held up a CD copy of your album to the camera.

"Go check that out if you want." You shrugged, "I was heavily inspired by the Canadian artist, as many of you know her by, Avril Lavinge. I wanted a pop and pop-rock elements in my music."

You look at the copy in your hand.

"I also wanted some crazy, bright-colored hair for my music videos. Play the electric guitar. Just a lot of early 2000s-esque homage. I can play the guitar so I want live music in all my performances." Nodding, "I'm trying to learn the drums to complete the set of pop-rock."

You chuckled mostly to yourself.

"As you can tell, I love pop-rock music. Although, this doesn't mean that I will be sticking only to one genre. I will be exploring other ones as well."

You point at the camera reassuringly.

"The album has elements of piano and acoustic guitar by yours truly. It discusses love through my lens and my understanding as a teenager. I have never experienced a serious relationship so, you'll get to view it as somewhat naive, immature, ignorance and in a love sick, puppy love perspective... I'd say."

You were rather impressed and satisfied with yourself with how cohesive your thoughts and explanation were in the aims and concept of your album. Rather than feeling jittery, your mind was clear, you were extremely comfortable with being in front of the camera.

'HOW DID YOU GET INTO THIS INDUSTRY AND WHY DID YOU WANT TO BECOME A PART OF IT?"

"How did I get into this industry?" You repeat, "Well, as I mentioned before, I was invited to YG to audition. But, if we're going back to where I started-"

Clasping your hand together,

"I moved to South Korea when I was about 10 years old. I could not speak a lick of Korean at all but over time... I learned. At that time, I knew... Well- I wasn't incredible at it but I knew how to play the piano and the guitar."

"I sang the song, "Heavy in your Arms" by Florence + The Machine while playing the electric guitar that my mum bought me for a Christmas present right around when I was 12."

You smirk,

"I'm sure she's very elated now that I'm out of the house. Her ears get a break from the strumming everyday."

"Soon, I had a call saying that I passed the audition and my training period will start soon. I started training... One day, I was pulled aside midst my training." You shift your sitting position, "I felt my heart just jump up to my throat and I was holding my breath."

"Then, I heard, "You're going to debut soon"" You let a sigh of relief as if you were reliving the moment with a little chuckle, "I felt like the whole world just lift off my shoulders."

"In terms of, why I want to be a part of the music industry?... That grew onto something to becoming its own thing. I love music. I want this as a job."

'WHAT MAKES YOU PASSIONATE ABOUT MUSIC?'

"I grew up watching Musicals. I even have DVD copies of it at home too of all my favourite ones. And before you ask," You put your hand up, "Yes, I do have my favourites."

"I love Chicago, Phantom of the Opera, Wicked and Lion King... You know what, I'll put Hamilton there too. I love the concept of bringing story telling and music together."

"Writing a compelling and memorable album can be similar in a way... More added different obvious layers of complication between the two writing story and song writing obviously. Different needs."

"Song writing... Is more compact and there's a catchy tune to it which makes it more memorable... Music builds a different atmosphere too that books can't replicate. Same goes for books too since we picture things differently in our head."

"It's just... So amazing." You finish.

'YOU WROTE YOUR WHOLE ALBUM. WHAT ARE YOUR ADVICE TO PEOPLE WHO WANT TO DABBLE IN SONGWRITING?'

"I think..." You drag your words, "This isn't a good question for me."

Grinning.

"My song writing skills aren't up there yet. I mean, it's good, for me to put out that album but, I wouldn't take a advice from me when I'm still navigating." You add, "But, if I have to give an advice, I'd say. Go ahead and have a go."

"Regardless if you think, it's terrible. Just write and take advice from people around you. Always look for ways to improve. Improving is key."

You smile at the fond memory.

"There are so many lyrics I gave my producer to be approve of but, he read them and said 'Revise them.' It took me weeks to get the green light." You gave an encouraging nod, "Songwriting is not easy journey. Don't put a unrealistic expectation on yourself and going to compare yourself to other artist. You are not born with this skill. You develop it."

'YOU ARE CREDITED AS A CO-PRODUCER OF YOUR ALBUM 'MEAN!', WILL YOU BE COMING OUT WITH ALBUM, SOLELY PRODUCED BY YOU?'

"Well-" You smirked, "We'll see."

'WHAT MADE YOU DECIDE TO GO TOWARDS THE DIRECTION OF WRITING YOUR DEBUT ALBUM?'

"I want a pop-rock album. Simple as that."

"I kind of wanted to stray away from the EDM type of music that's quite trendy nowadays and focus on rocky-ish type of music. I also wanted to play music live."

'CAN YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR FAVOURITE GUITARS?'

"Sure." The video cuts to your collection of electric guitars on their stands all varying in colours and brands, where it was conveniently taped off.

"These are my collection, I have 4 in total; these are the brands I frequently check out and consider buying from... That I cannot mention." You look over to the camera cheekily over to your manager, "K-pop idol issues."

"I like the brands. I think they're good but... I have my issues with them like the tuning stability issues I have with this pink one." You point at the nearest to you, "From my research, it has something to do with the metals they use."

"If this is your brand... You might want to fix that."

You pick up one of them, one covered that has a white body decorated and littered with all kinds of stickers.

"This is my baby. My favourite of them all. My first guitar."

You glare at the camera.

"But, whoever recommended my mum this as a beginner guitar. I hope you don't sleep well at night." You warned earning a chorus of laughter from the staff behind the camera, "This was a struggle to figure out and not beginner friendly."

"This-" You point, "Is a floating trem complicated for baby DITE. Then was later told... This shouldn't have been recommended to me. It was pure hell and pain."

"Guitar enthusiast. If you recognise this, comment it down below because I can't mention it... No go for beginners... It almost made me quite the guitar."

'WHAT WAS THE FIRST SONG YOU LEARNED TO PLAY?'

"Twinkle, twinkle little star." You answered deadpanned causing everyone to once again erupt into laughter.

'WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES BESIDE MUSIC?'

"I don't know. My personality only revolves around music." You teased, "I'm kidding. I love cooking, reading and video games."

"I love video games. My manager does not like the fact that I love it because I stay up all night playing games and she can't wake up."

You bowed onto a perfect 90 degree angle,

'WHO DO YOU ENJOY LISTENING TO?'

"I'm sorry, Mira but you can't separate me and my one love, video games."

"I enjoy a lot of genres and a variety of artist. I do love some Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, IU, 2NE1, Florence + The Machine, Aaliyah, Avril Lavinge, Amy Winehouse, Whitney Houston... I have a lot more but... I can't think off the top of my head."

"I listen to a lot of Female Artist as you can tell."

'WOULD YOU SAY THAT ALL THESE ARTIST HAVE HAD AN IMPACT ON YOUR ARTISTIC CREATIVITY?'

"Definitely." You didn't miss a beat,"I feel they had a lot of impact on how I approach music. A lot of their music style reflects my own but, I still put my own spin on it."

"That about wraps up my interview with Wall Street Journal. Thank you for joining me. Bye!" You blow a kiss before waving off.

#idol reader #kpop soloist reader #kpop idol reader #x kpop soloist reader #x idol reader #x kpop idol reader

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basic204 · 6 months

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Super Class

Fuck every single one of those bastards.

I remember the day it happened. The day my life was ruined. We were taking notes on the French Revolution when Richard Kissinger sneezed and electricity crackled out of his nose, Allison Fletcher's eraser flew up into her hand when she went to pick it up, and Hannah Dubel turned invisible not even a second later.

The class erupted into chaos with everyone suddenly discovering their newfound powers by the second. Yohan O'Connor kept shooting laser beams out of his eyes in random directions, Juna Lim was growing tall enough to hit the ceiling and then shrinking to the size of a bat, and Tommy Tucker kept crushing pencils like paper between his fingers in stupified awe.

"Henry!" My friend Tate Miller said giddily to me as if Christmas had come. "Look! Look! Look what I can do!"

He stuck out his palm and then ice suddenly formed in the middle.

"Cool!" I said excitedly. "I can't believe it! We're all getting powers!"

"Yeah! What can you do Henry?!"

"I dunno yet!" I said. "I'm still trying to figure it out."

His looked at me puzzled and his smile dropped. That's when the bullying began.

The media pounced on it like starving bloodhounds. They dubbed us "class super" and instantly hit national media.

The school was quick to act. We were suddenly living gold bars to them. Enrollment soared, investors begged for the school to take their money. The school became private. Our class was treated like gods and was basically allowed to do anything we wanted as long as we were still technically enrolled. Classmates began taking hero apprenticeships, movie roles, and going on talk shows.

Except me.

It caught on pretty quickly that I was the only one out of them to still be normal. They bullied me mercilessly. I think they were jealous I could still be a normal student and used me to relieve stress from their sudden stressful hero lives. But I don't care. Fuck them.

It was like a flip switched. They beat me. Humiliated me. Spat on me. Tortured me. Everyday was hell.

Hannah would turn invisible and pull my pants down. Jason Kurd would shoot fire balls at my feet and laugh, telling me to "dance!" Karen Deen would mind control me to do anything she wanted, from eating feces to making me act like a chihuahua. Tommy liked to punch me until I puked. All of them took part in something. The worse was when Tate and Richard played "Henry Hunting". They'd give me five minutes to run, then brutally hunt me down, drag me to the bathroom, then dunk my head in the toilet. Bonus points if their was already shit in it.Whenever I sobbed and begged them to stop, they mimicked my cries and laughed.

The principal must have figured I was their stress ball. He paid my parents big bucks to keep me from transferring. When I pleaded to them to not make me go while covered in bruises and burns, Dad would tut tut and say, "Henry, toughen up and be a man. You're being such a drama queen." Then go on luxury vacations with Mom. It only stopped when tried to kill myself. I attempted before, but this time was bad enough to land me in the hospital. Initially my parents wanted to send me back but I promised I'd kill myself for real if I did. They ended up kicking me out of the house.

And you know what happened to my classmates? They went on with their lives and graduated. They became celebrities. Actors. Heros. They had fan clubs. They had midnight specials. Riches. Awards. Admiration. Everything.

I had nothing. I dropped out. I was homeless while they lived it up. It was unfair. Eventually I tried to sell my story to the media but no one believed me. The school had worked hard to cover up my abuse. I hated them with all my soul but tried to get on with my life and live peacefully for the next ten years.

Until I found out about the reunion.

I saw a news reporter on televison saying this would be the first time the entire super class would meet up in person since highschool. My heart flamed. The "whole class" huh? I hadn't received an invitation. I shouldn't of cared, but the well of anger and injustice that had been swelling in me for years bubbled up. Why didn't I stop by for a visit?

The reunion was held in our old school gym. But it looked more like a fancy ball than a gym. It was pimped out with long expensive tables of every kind of food you could imagine, with silk banisters individually embroidered to have every classmate's face on them, except mine. There was a delicate ice fountain in the middle of the room and servers ran expertly to and fro, assisting guests. The media was banned from entering so the guests could have some peace to catch up.

They weren't expecting me to show up. I took satisfaction in their shocked faces when I came through the front door, dressed in a shabby grey suit. I smiled when I saw their faces. It made me burn with anger.

"Hello!" I waved to everyone enthusiastically. " Remember me guys?" Everyone looked uncomfortable.

I went up to the snack table and spotted Hannah Dubel.

"Hey Hannah! Long time no see."

She nodded uncomfortably in her expensive designer dress and didn't look at me.

"Good to see you too! Hey, remember when you used to forcibly pants me in front of others? I do, fun times!"

She said nothing.

"Ahaha of course. Stay quiet. What a great hero you are! Hey, you know what's strange? You guys actually forgot to send me an invitation! How funny huh?"

Richard stepped in between us. I knew from the news he had married Hannah. He was wearing his signature red and white hero outfit. The rest of our classmates watched on uneasily.

"That's enough Henry." He said. He too wouldn't look me in the eyes.

I gave him a hateful smile and clenched my fists.

"Hey, Dick, how've you been?" I said cheerfully, "heard you won the nobel peace prize? Hey, I'm hurt though. You didn't mention me in your speech! What with all the fun games we've played together?"

"You're acting immature." He said.

"Oh, I'm acting immature?" I snapped. "Hey, remember all the times I tried to commit suicide after you bullied me? Was it fun to watch?"

He looked alarmed and guilty but quickly looked away.

"What do you want Henry? An apology? We're sorry."

"No your not!" I hissed. "Fuck you guys. Fuck you for ruining my life."

I punched him. It didn't do much.

"Will fighting us make you feel better? Stop it Henry." He said.

I tried punching him again. I was even more furious how it didn't hurt him. I tried punching Hannah. This time He shoved me into the table.

It's embarrassing to say, but I died. The way the back of my neck hit they table snapped my neck. I thought that'd be it of my miserable life.

But I woke up. Cold, naked, and cut up in a morgue. I was lucky they didn't bury me. I'd learn later it was because they wanted to dissect me to try and understand why I was the only one who didn't gain powers back then.

I sat up on a surgical table, dazed, and looked down at my stomach. It was sliced open, and my guts plopped out gently onto the floor in a squishy mess. I was confused, and then I felt a warmth, and the slit in my stomach began to close.

It took a while for my foggy brain to process what was going on. I was in a morgue, my stomach had been cut open, and, it was healing? Then everything clicked. I laughed mirthlessly.

All this time- guess I did have a power!

#Super Class #superhero #super hero #supervillain #orgin #writing promt

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