At eighteen you form a telepathic connection with your soulmate.
At the age of eighteen, everyone hears their soulmate’s thoughts for the first time. It’s a simple connection that helps you find the other person, or at least figure out who the person is if you already happen to know them. It’s something that everyone waits with baited breath for; finding out who they’re destined to spend their life with. It doesn’t happen immediately on your eighteenth birthday of course, but somewhere within your eighteenth year. You remember when your cousin first heard her soulmate’s voice; she had been visiting at your house and halfway through dinner she gasped and dropped her fork. Your mom worriedly reached a hand out and asked if she was okay, and your cousin just looked up with a smile and tears in her eyes.
You turned eighteen a few months ago and so far it’d just been silence. You were getting a little antsy, but you knew that it’d happen soon enough. Maybe not this soon, though. You were trying your hardest to go over your notes for a big exam the next morning. It was almost midnight and you just couldn’t get the information down. Your own scribbled handwriting was glaring up at you, and you felt hatred for the lines of purple ink on the page. Why couldn’t you have done a better job at getting down the information from class? You wanted to scream, but you also didn’t want to wake up everyone within a 50-mile radius, so you tried your best to keep the scream on the inside. It turns out that someone had heard you even still, though.
“Nǐ hái hǎo ma?” a small voice asked somewhere in the back of your mind. Your eyes popped open and you sat up straight. Could that really have been what you thought it was? Was that…your soulmate? You focused as hard as you could to try and reach out into the spirit-net and say something back.
“Hello? Are you there?” you all but whispered to yourself, thinking it as hard as possible.
“Ó, wǒ de shàngdì” the low voice replied. Oh, well, shit. Okay. Yep. Definitely your soulmate. And that definitely was not a language you understood.
“Do you know English?” you asked him carefully. There was a long period of silence. You bit your lip and fiddled with the pen in your hands as you waited for him to say anything. The second hand moved all the way around the clock on your wall three times before you heard him reply.
“He…llo. My…name is Junhui.” the voice struggled to say. “I speak…no English, I live from China.” Oh god. Your soulmate was Chinese. You could feel your heart beat a mile a minute in your chest. This was going to make things a lot harder. God, what did you know how to say in Chinese? You knew how to say hello in Mandarin. You prayed he didn’t speak exclusively Cantonese, because then you’d be screwed.
“Nǐ hǎo, Junhui” you thought back to him, quickly grabbing your phone to get to google translate something as fast as possible. Your fingers flew across the keyboard, and you tried your best to read the romanization of the complex characters that popped up. “Wǒ de…míngzì shì…Y/N. Wǒ bù shuō…….zhōngwén” (My name is Y/N. I don’t speak Chinese). You hoped that had been understandable.
You stayed up way too late that night having completely forgotten about the exam you needed to be studying for, but instead having a slow, broken conversation with Jun through clunky google translated phrases. You learned that he liked acting, singing, and martial arts. You tried your best to tell him about yourself, but you eventually fell asleep as the sun began peeking through your window.
You got a less than stellar grade on the exam the next morning, but you’re not even phased as you race to the bookstore to buy as many beginner’s Chinese textbooks as you could afford. You spent the next year studying as much as you could, and Jun was doing the same thing with English. You loved hearing him excitedly thinking about a new English phrase he had learned that day. You managed to grow close with one another; mentally, of course. You still lived in totally different countries, but that would change soon. After a long year of sharing thoughts, dreams, and songs stuck in your head with each other, you finally were able to communicate well enough to set up a meeting.
You twiddled your thumbs at the airport, waiting in front of the arrival gate and trying to remember to breathe. He had gotten a direct flight from the Shenzhen Bao'an International Airport, meaning he’d be pretty tired. You didn’t want to overwhelm him, but you were also dying to meet him. You looked through the crowd of people walking towards the baggage claim, scanning each face worriedly.
“Where are you?” you thought to him, shifting your weight from foot to foot anxiously.
“Turn around.” you heard much louder and clearer than usual. You whipped your head around, and there he was. Tall, golden, and beautiful; your Jun. His mop of dark hair was swooped to the side, and he was wearing a big sweatshirt that spanned over his broad shoulders. You couldn’t believe your eyes. After all this time he was right there and you couldn’t even process it. He seemed to be drinking the sight of you in just as deeply, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away to the two of you.
“Wow,” somebody thought. You weren’t entirely sure which one of you had thought it, but it represented your feelings just the same. You finally broke out of it, throwing your arms around him.
“Zuìhòu,” you whispered into the soft material of his hoodie. He hummed into your hair, gripping you just as tight.
“Mmhmm. At last.” he murmured back. The sound of his voice was so much more satisfying than the sound of this thoughts. It sounded deep, warm, and so much like home.
Love Like Oxygen is such a pure, upbeat, early song and I love it so much I want to see it be wholeheartedly loved :'
HEY HEY NOT ONLY IS LOVE LIKE OXYGEN A PURE, UPBEAT SONG SANG BY BABY SHINEE CIRCA FEDORA ERA IT IS ALSO LEGENDARY FOR GIVING THEM THEIR FIST WIN EVER
no there isn’t anything more pure and joyful in their discography and there will never be. there will never be. even the llo mv was ahead of its time like hello have you checked these aesthetics??
I’ll defend shinee’s early releases with my whole heart for as long as I’m alive, I don’t think you guys understand. I love their early releases so much. I love those so much. it’s so rare to find groups with a discography you can be proud of from beginning to end, but shinee is definitely one of the few.
and that’s not in a way that makes you wish they’d go back to their old style, but? looking back in their career, it feels like watching a story unravel in its own accord, in its own time; a story so well written that you don’t regret it when you reach the end of each book - there will always be the next one, anyway.
it’s mind-blowing to think they had barely debuted and they came out with something so high quality like love like oxygen - the kind of song you could listen to in 2017, 9 years after its release, and it wouldn’t seem out of place. it’s just amazing.
Tony blinked down at them slowly, then began picking them up. They were purple, a deep, rich hue, and each feather was as long as his forearm. He took a moment to be very, very glad that his parents were on trips and that Jarvis and Ana were out shopping, because he’d never be able to explain these.
There was a trail of them. Tony followed them, stooping to pick up each feather, because it wouldn’t do to for someone to stumble over any of them. It was… an awful lot of feathers. Like an alarming amount of feathers. He could probably make a suit of them.
They led to one of the guest rooms.
Tony should probably call someone. He remembered when Natasha had come into the mansion, how dangerous it had been. Natasha had told him that the only reason it had worked out so well for him was because he’d surprised her. Still, he was eighteen now. He should be able to handle it.
The feathers led to the closet.
Tony was never going to understand why these guys liked closets so much. Bucky and Steve had tried to explain it but he didn’t get it. Natasha hadn’t even bothered trying, just shrugged and said “I like it there.” He’d understood that a lot better than anything Steve and Bucky had said.
Tony stopped halfway into the guestroom, calling out, “Hello?”
There was a shuffling sound behind the door, but then silence.
He took another step closer. “He–llo! I heard you moving in there!”
The shuffling sound came again, then a noise like claws on wood.
Tony swallowed thickly, clutching the bundle of feathers to his chest. “…I’m not leaving until you come out!”
The door burst open so fast that he only had time to scream before whatever had been in it was on top of him.
Bucky and Steve fell out of the closet, scrabbling at the floor and leaving gouges in the wood. When they skidded out into the hallway they saw a giant black spider crawling across the wall, the red hourglass on its belly shining ominously as it leapt over doorways.
Bucky and Steve caught up to her a few seconds later, skidding over the floors. It was worrying, that they’d only heard that one scream. What if Tony couldn’t scream again? What if he–what if Tony was–
They crashed through the doorway, tearing the door off its hinges.
“Help,” Tony sobbed, hands bleeding around the barbed chain he was clutching. “Help! It’s hurting him!”
They stopped in shock. The hulking feathered figure in front of the human was trembling, one wing forced straight up by the chain, the other pinned against its side. Half of the feathers on the extended wing were just… shaved off. Some feathers were even cut in half, and the barbed chain was digging into the flesh hard enough that blood was starting to rise beneath it. It took a lot to pierce a monster’s skin.
Natasha swept over to him, form shifting so she had hands, one pair grabbing at the chain while the other carefully but firmly peeled Tony’s free. “Let go,
Котенок. It’s hurting you, too.”
“Natasha help!” Tony exclaimed, sobbing again.
“I’m helping, Котенок. You need to move.”
Steve slithered over to wrap his arms around the brunet as Bucky leapt forward to help Natasha, tail wrapping around his legs so he couldn’t lunge forward again. “Shhh. Tony, let them work.”
Tony turned so he could cry into his chest. “He couldn’t even ask me for help! He made–he made this terrible sound, Steve, it was awful–”
“It’s not–we’re going to tear his fucking wing off,” Bucky muttered, hands shifting, tugging lightly along the chain.
Natasha hissed quietly in sympathy as the feathered mass let out a long whine, wing shuddering. “We might just have to let it happen. This is a Death Chain. Maybe sacrificing a wing would be better.”
“No!” Tony exclaimed, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “I can–I’ll go get bolt cutters! We can cut it off!”
The monsters looked at each other before Bucky asked, “Will that work?”
Natasha shrugged. “I’ve never seen it, but then I’ve never had a human care.”
“I’ll go get bolt cutters,” Tony repeated, determined, and ran from the room.
Steve slithered over and gently curled his fingers under the chain as well. “You said you’ve seen these before?”
“Not everyone thinks monsters in the closet are an adorable fairy tale to soothe their children about,” Natasha answered coldly. “This isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”
The monster let out another whine, other wing trying to shove out from under the chain and shaving off a few feathers.
“Whoa, buddy!” Bucky exclaimed, reaching out to shove his wing back down. “Calm down! We’re trying to help you!”
Tony came running back into the room. “I brought two!”
Steve grabbed one of them from his arms and flipped it around. “Just tell me where to cut.”
“Um–uh–” Tony circled the monster anxiously, fingers trailing over the chain. “Here? Here. Steve, here!”
Steve lifted the bolt cutters and Tony helped him slide them into place. It took more effort than the human had expected, and one of the handles broke off. Tony started to hand him the second bolt cutter, but Steve just grabbed the blades and squeezed them together with his hand.
Tony would have gaped, but he was too busy trying to pull the broken link of chain out. Once it was free he said, “Okay, okay, you can pull–”
“Do not pull,” Natasha ordered immediately. “We need to pick the barbs out or we’ll do just as much damage.”
“Okay,” Tony answered, voice small, and obediently began picking the barbs out of the monster’s skin.
It took a while, but eventually Bucky picked out the last barb and the chain fell to the ground with a dull clank. Then Natasha carefully pulled the feathers on the monster’s head back, away from his face.
“…Thanks,” he managed to grit out, voice gravely.
“Are you okay?” Tony asked, reaching out to push more of his feathers back.
The monster’s wings shifted, and then a pair of talon-tipped hands appeared out of the feathers, catching his wrists. “Blood is very hard to get out without water,” he croaked, then reached out to cup the human’s cheeks. “I scared you. I’m sorry.”
Tony sniffled quietly. “It’s okay.”
His name was Clint. He’d escaped from a circus and he’d meant to keep running but the chains had gotten too tight, and the mansion was so close. He hadn’t meant to come bursting out of the door so fast, he’d just tripped and flapping his one good wing had been the only thing he could do to keep from falling and tightening the chains further.
“I was supposed to scare children,” Clint said, voice much less gravely now that he’d had time to breathe properly and they’d given him water and a can of sardines. “I don’t like to do that.”
Natasha didn’t look up from winding bandages around Tony’s bruised and lacerated hands. “How does that feel?”
“Hurts,” Tony admitted quietly.
“You’re lucky a barb didn’t go right through your hand,” Bucky muttered, peering through fridge. “Steak?”
“I haven’t had beef in… decades. So maybe not,” Clint answered. He gave Tony a long, appraising look. “Most humans wouldn’t start trying to pull a barbed chain off something after it basically attacked them.”
Steve snorted from where he was carefully pulling the other man’s feathers so they were facing the right way. “Most humans don’t walk up to a monster and offer them soup when she could easily eat him.” He paused at the man’s wing, where most of his feathers had been cut off, before quietly asking, “Will they grow back?”
“…Probably,” Clint said after a bit too long. He looked back at Tony. He looked like a person that hadn’t been scared as a child. “If I could just have a few days to rest, I can get out of your hair.”
“You don’t need to go,” Tony hurried to say. “The mansion’s big! You can pick any room!”
Bucky sighed loudly. “You won’t be happy until you’ve adopted every monster you can, will you?”
“He’s hurt,” Tony exclaimed indignantly. “And whoever might still be chasing him! They can’t get to him here!”
“Let it go, Buck,” Steve muttered, smoothing his hands down the feathers on Clint’s back. “You know Tony.”
Bucky sighed again, quieter, but he did know Tony. He was a fixer. “How about meatballs?”
“That sounds awful,” Clint admitted. “But I’m so hungry that I don’t actually care. It’s better than anything I’ve eaten anyway, probably.”
“I’ll cook them so it’s easier on your stomach.”
Clint nodded, humming quietly, and then extended his wings. He’d basically been clipped. He wouldn’t be able to fly anyway. So maybe he’d stay a little longer than a few days.
“Oh! The feathers!” Tony gasped, standing abruptly. “I need to pick them up before Jarvis and Ana get home!”
Clint watched him go. “Should probably go help him. The feathers that were cut will have really sharp edges.”
Steve made a startled noise and hurried after him. With his scales, he was extra impervious to injury. And it would be just their luck that Tony would slice his arm open.
“He’s going to keep you,” Natasha decided, leaning her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. “He does that.”
Clint shrugged. Steve, Bucky, and Natasha seemed to be doing pretty well for themselves. It wasn’t like it could be any worse than the circus.
Warnings: brief canon-style violence, mention of blood, swearing.
A/N: My awesome
title naming skills strike again! This is another Anon request (possibly 2 in 1?). It will be a Castiel x Reader fic, with a twist? (no spoilers!) It’s a different feel for me, but very fun to write. This will be a mini
series at the very least, depending on how carried away I get. Oh, and I made a silly little aesthetic/collage (whatever they’re called) thing. So, yay me.
Anon request: “heyyy i’ve got a prompt for you for whenever you have time…
J2M gets transported (by my bby Gabriel) to the SPN world and meets TFW + the
reader??? maybe throw in some lovin’ for my boy cas? or misha? take it wherever
you want :) thanks!”
Gabriel had been horrifically bored for weeks, unable to find a
single soul worth pestering. Sam and Dean weren’t amusing anymore, and Castiel never got his jokes. The clueless look
on his brother’s face didn’t even make the amber-eyed archangel smile anymore.
So, the angel scanned through every dimension he knew of, in
search of his next victim. But, with every new land he trekked, he grew more
and more discouraged. Maybe he was doomed to infinite boredom? He sure as hell
hoped not. Gabriel rolled his eyes as he snapped his fingers for the n’teenth
I saw the post @fonbella made a few days ago about how most of the voltron poly fics are nsfw, and that it sucks major ass, (I tried finding the post but couldn’t,,,,,) and I agreed 100% and immediately came up with like 100 ideas for nice innocent stuff. This is the one I liked the best. Read more because it got a little long, or read on ao3
“He-llo YouTube!” Lance smiled brightly at the camera,
giving his signature wink and finger guns. The lights were all set, his
room properly organized, everything was exactly like it always was when
he sat down to film another video… Except for one little fact. He had
unusual guests today. Emphasis on unusual, because he often had guests
over. Other YouTubers, friends, his little sisters, even his mother at
But today… He glanced to the
side, where his two boyfriends, Keith and Shiro stood out of camera shot
and waited for his signal. Today was special.