veil of visions

7

Selfish Machines is the second studio album by American rock band Pierce the Veil, released by Equal Vision on June 22, 2010.   Produced by Vic Fuentes and Mike Green, it was recorded between late 2009 and early 2010.  


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Let Me Fix Us || c.h.

ofc my love x

I M A G I N E 

“Guys, give me my phone back!” You urged, chasing Luke around the dressing room as Michael and Ashton stood around watching us. “I need my phone back, Luke!”

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Imagine you and Loki getting married

•Loki, at the end of the aisle, looking even more handsome than usual in a white button down shirt and black tailored suit or the traditional asgardian wedding costume, his shoulder-length dark hair perfect as ever, his eyes focused solely on you, ignoring the huge assembly.
•you, walking down the aisle in your white dress, your veil slightly distorting your vision, but still being able to stare in wonder at the perfect creature waiting for you. Clutching tightly at your flower bouquet and trying to remind yourself to breathe.
• Loki, only showing a small smile, but you see the awe in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe the divine being walking towards him had agreed to be his forever. In his blue-green eyes, you see the emotion; his love for you, his fierce desire to protect you at all costs (no being shall ever harm his queen, he vowed himself), his gratefulness towards you for always believing in him and being there when no one else was, for accepting him for who he his and giving him the love no one else gave him.
•When you are finally standing in front of him and your veil is lifted, you feel tears of sheer happiness pricking at the corner of your eyes. Loki gives you his most tender smile and delicately strokes your cheek with one slender finger, both to help you with the nerves and to assure himself you are not an illusion.
•Frigga in tears in the front row, so happy her youngest, most beloved son finally found love and happiness.
•Odin, holding her hand to calm her, but also quite happy Loki found someone to truly love him and still ashamed of how he treated him. He hopes Loki will be able to forgive him someday.
• Thor, having the biggest grin on his face, clapping enthusiastically.
•Jane smiling, a hand on her slightly swollen belly and trying to get Thor to calm down.
•Loki sending Thor a warning look, as if saying “Brother, get a grip, or else…”, making Thor still instantly, before turning his loving gaze back to you.

Underneath the Crown (M)

Pairing: Jimin / reader

Genre: fluff, implied smut, royal AU.

Words: 1916

Description: his regime was riddled with brutality, his subjects shake as his name is mentioned. You, on the other hand, believed otherwise. 

Warnings: femDom, blindfolds, light bondage.


Park Jimin was given the world when he was born.

His heart was strung together with silver and his soul sparkled like gold. He was embellished with jewels worth thousands, worth much more than the servants who catered his smallest needs. He was presented a scepter at the prime age of six, fitting in his undersized hands. His cinnamon irises coruscating as he waved the silver stick, twitching a smile as his subjects applauded.

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Hymn to Darkness


by John Norris (1657–1711)

 Hail, thou most sacred venerable thing!
   What Muse is worthy thee to sing?
 Thee, from whose pregnant universal womb
 All things, even Light, thy rival, first did come.
 What dares he not attempt that sings of thee,
   Thou first and greatest mystery?
 Who can the secrets of thy essence tell?
Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible.

 Before great Love this monument did raise,
   This ample theatre of praise;
 Before the folding circles of the sky
 Were tuned by Him who is all harmony;
 Before the morning stars their hymn began
   Before the council held for man;
 Before the birth of either Time or Place
Thou reign’st unquestioned monarch in the empty space.

 Thy native lot thou didst to Light resign,
   But still half of the globe is thine.
 Here with a quiet, and yet awful hand,
 Like the best emperors, thou dost command.
 To thee the stars above the brightness owe,
   And mortals their repose below.
 To thy protection Fear and Sorrow flee
And those that weary are of light find rest in thee.

 Though light and glory be th’ Almighty’s throne,
   Darkness is his pavilion.
 From that his radiant beauty, but from thee
 He has his terrour and his majesty.
 Thus when he first proclaimed his sacred law,
   And would his rebel subjects awe,
 Like princes on some great solemnity,
H’ appeared in ’s robes of state and clad himself with thee.

 The blest above do thy sweet umbrage prize,
   When, cloyed with light, they veil their eyes;
 The vision of the Deity is made
 More sweet and beatific by thy shade.
 But we, poor tenants of this orb below
   Don’t here thy excellencies know,
 Till death our understandings does improve
And then our wiser ghosts thy silent night-walks love.

 But thee I now admire, thee would I choose
   For my religion, or my Muse.
 ’Tis hard to tell whether thy reverend shade
 Has more good votaries or poets made,
 From thy dark caves were inspirations given,
   And from thick groves went vows to Heaven.
 Hail then, thou Muse’s and devotion’s spring!
’Tis just we should adore, ’tis just we should thee sing.



There are tensions rising
high in the chambers
of my heart.

My bones rattle with rage
as I stalk abandoned
hallways and deserted
playgrounds.

Childhood reaches out past
the veil of darkness that
clouds my vision,
but even the faintest sounds
bring me closer to
innocence.

Unveil

Based on this request :  is request open?if yes,can i request a jimin arranged marriage that is angsty and fluffy?thank you❤️ 

This is more of an arranged/contract marriage mashup that no one asked for. Enjoy!

Genre: Angst.

Word count : 4K.

A/N : Although this is very far from being worthy of it, I want to gift it to @evangelene. Your title your fic <3.

Originally posted by suga-com

You took a deep breath and faced the mirror. You never imagined you would look this beautiful. Hair pulled back into a fancy bun, a veil seeping from it to cover your face, along with make-up done to perfection, turning you into your most beautiful self; along with a long white dress that made it almost impossible to walk in a straight line without falling to your death.

Your friends, who looked just as stunning in the peach bridesmaid dresses that you chose for them, blurred out compliment after compliment in a never ending flow. Some even shedding a few happy tears. It was ridiculous to you, and even more now that you were the actual bride, how much work and money went into things like this. But, then again, yours wasn’t like other weddings.

“Can you please tell Jimin to come see me?” You removed the lace veil from your face and smiled to her. Saerah, the only one who knew about the whole deal, motioned for everyone to get out of the room as she stepped closer.

“Everything okay?” She squeezed your arm with a frown. It was supposed to be your special day, at least, that’s how she imagined weddings to be, not something that put a forced smile on your face and made you act unnaturally joyful.

“Yeah, absolutely, I just want to talk to him.” You nodded and she walked out as well. After struggling with lining her dress correctly so she wouldn’t trip on it, she walked out and closed the door. Your laughter died down and your smile broke. You were thankful for them, being there for you on such a day, but more than anything you were thankful to him. Jimin soon knocked on the door and came in.

He looked handsome with his neatly pressed suit and perfect fluffy hair. Any woman would want him standing at the end of the aisle. Even you. You felt sorry for dragging him into this when he could have been peering at the person he loved right now, instead of being here with you. When he could’ve been getting married to the one he loved.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” Jimin smiled, closing the door behind him and stepping closer to you. His eyes scanned over you with an unreadable expression. He took his hands out of his pockets straightening his tie and clearing his throat, he looked away again.

“Let’s leave that for the real ones to worry about. Let me do it.” You stepped down from the small stand they had for you and closed the distance replacing his hands on the black tie.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered avoiding meeting your eyes. You laughed shyly letting your hands rest on his chest “I’m a lucky man.”

“Are you sure about this?” You met his gaze straight on, determined not to hesitate. Jimin just nodded with a wide smile. “You can still back down now if you want.”

“Y/N, if I didn’t want to do this for you, I wouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place.” He took your hands in his, rubbing them together, “Also, Ahjussi has been nothing but good to me. I want to do this for him as well,” for him. You didn’t let your expectations rise when it came to this. You could see that Jimin felt more or less forced to do this, that he wasn’t happy with it, that-

“But we don’t love each other.” you don’t love me You sighed, your eyes starting to tear up. Before this, you didn’t think you would give marriage much thought. It wasn’t a big deal for you until now, so you couldn’t understand why it meant so much.

“Hey hey hey, you’ll ruin your make up, stop it.” He fanned over your face and you laughed, mainly because you didn’t know where he learned that from, looking back at him. “It’s just for a year too, Y/N, you won’t have to put up with me for a second longer.” Jimin laughed but those words pierced through his heart harder than it did yours.

“A year, right, a year is short.”

“And I get to be married to my bestfriend. I personally feel like I’m winning at life.” Jimin had added to further comfort you. He wouldn’t deny that there was truth in that even if you asked. You never did.

~~

“You look just like your mother” Your dad weakly spoke hooking your arm with his as the large doors swung open. You smiled at him and looked forward at Jimin who was doing just the same. The music started and the guests all turned to peer at you. Your heart started beating faster and you had to focus on not stepping on your dress.

“Me and Jimin’s father had agreed to marry you two when you got older, that was his last wish before passing away.”  You knew where this was going and by the shocked look on Jimin’s face, he did as well. It had been just three months since you found out that your father was terminally ill with only a few months to spare - nine at the max. Three months of continuous ups and downs, three months of seeing your once healthy and active dad becoming frail, and three months away from a wedding you didn’t expect. “ Now it’s my last wish ”

“Dad you know we can’t … each of us have our own-”

“We’ll do it, ahjussi!”

“Jimin!”

“Be quiet,” Jimin stood up making his way to you with a smile “I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while, but I guess there is no better time than now.”  

“Jimin …” You couldn’t help the fluttering sensation that came when he got down on one knee in front of you, you had imagined it a million times.

Jimin was your childhood friend, when his parents passed away in a car accident your dad took him in and raised him as his own. You grew more and more fond of the smiley ball of sunshine that was Jimin and before, you knew it, your feelings had developed into more than that of friendship.

The same could not be said for Jimin, you had to sit by and watch him go through girlfriend after girlfriend. You had to sit by and hear him talk about his first love, first kiss, and first time with someone that wasn’t you. Naturally you started dating as well, trying to get away from the empty feeling of not being loved back, but it was never the same.

“Have you lost your mind?!” You yelled, as quietly as you could, once you were outside the hospital room “Do you know what you just volunteered yourself for?”

“Y/N, I know this is not what you want, but I think we have to do this for him, for my dad, we owe them that much.”  You couldn’t understand how he would agree to this so easily.

“What about your girlfriend?” You arched your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest and waited for him. In anticipation … but for what.

“I broke up with her a month ago.” maybe this was the answer you waited for because you could feel your heart swell up with relief. A relief that always came from him telling you he was single again. Not that you could have him. Not that he would fall for you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was nice to hear it but it was still a month later. You knew you fell behind on meeting him ever since your dad got diagnosed and you had to take care of him.

“Well, your hands were quite full these last few months” Jimin laughed bitterly. He didn’t like this situation any more than you did. He didn’t like how strongly your refusal was.

“Take care of my daughter, Jimin.” Your hand was passed to Jimin and your father stood back, a few tears rolling down his aged skin, you stopped yourself from breaking down into tears. You were fooling your father. You were tricking him. You were ruining his last wish.

“I can’t make you marry me.”

“You’re not making me, I chose this.” Jimin was calm, as he always was, he smiled at you and handed you a ring. You stared down at the beautifully designed piece of  gold that meant so much and nothing at the same time.

“I am not  …. how about,” You looked up at him again and his eyebrows furrowed “we don’t register the marriage and…”

“and pretend?”

“for a year… at most.” You hid your face in your hands trying to hold back tears “I know my dad won’t last longer than that, then you can repay his debt” A debt, that’s what you were to him. A debt to your father that he needed to take off his shoulders. Nothing more.

“Y/N…”

“I can’t get married to someone that doesn’t love me.”

“But, I …” Jimin started but went silent again. Choosing to swallow whatever words he was about to say.

“I do.” You whispered looking at Jimin through the veil. He looked perfect. Everything looked perfect but it hurt.

“I do.” He repeated after you. The priest told him to remove the veil. Your vision was now clearer and you can see the dampness in his eyelashes was he crying? You thought to yourself.

“You may kiss the bride.” That was the moment that frightened you the most. The moment you spent sleepless nights thinking about.

Sure, it wasn’t the first time you had kissed. You’ve been friends for over a decade, things tend to happen, like alcohol.

However, the moment Jimin’s lips were a breath away from yours whispering “it will be okay”, you lost every feeling of restraint. The moment you breathed in each other’s air, filled with the scent of heavy liquor and smoke, every pent up emotion you’ve had for him in the last twelve years came out as strings of tears.

Jimin pressed his lips tightly against yours, his fingers digging nervously at your waist and trying to hush your sobs. He knew it was hard to hold this whole facade. A lie. Just for your father. It was hard for him as well because he didn’t want to let you go.

“I know she can act strong sometimes but she has a good heart.” Your father had sat him down a few days before the wedding “She can be stubborn and god can she be mean sometimes. But, when she loves, she’s the kindest little thing I have ever seen.”

“Ahjussi.” Jimin tried to cut in but your dad held up his hand to stop him.

“I know you love her. I’ve known for a while now. The way you look at her and the way you easily accepted my ridiculous offer. Don’t you?” Jimin hesitated with wide eyes. He was so obvious that your father found him out, a long time ago, but not obvious enough for you to realize it.

“I do” Jimin sighed “I really do. However, I don’t think she feels the same.”

“No heart is made out of stone, child” your father smiled taking the man’s hands in his “ This might be arranged by your father and me but I’m sure it was destined. I know you can take care of her and that I can die in peace knowing she’s in good hands.” Jimin felt guilty about deceiving him.

You turned to look at your father, to see the happiness of his wish coming true, smiling through your own sadness. You didn’t see happiness. You didn’t find what you were looking for. Instead you saw pain, a scrunched face, and a hand gripping tightly onto his heart.

“Dad!” Clutching your dress up, you ran to him. He fell to the floor with a loud echo and your world shattered. Soon the sound of sirens muffled the ringing in your head. Everything was moving too fast for you to grasp.

“Y/N…Y/N” You heard the comfortingly familiar voice rising above everything else. Jimin took your hand in his and pulled you up into the ambulance. He had a tight grip on you the whole time, afraid you would slip away. “It’s going to be okay, he’s going to be okay.”

He held your hand while you waited outside the surgery room in a wedding dress. A dirtied and worn out wedding dress that mirrored your general state.

Everyone looked at you with pity. A bride spending her special day in the hospital crying away all the makeup she spent hours on. A bride with a broken voice standing up abruptly then flopping back down with a cry. A bride that wasn’t even a real bride. Not even a great daughter.

The doors opened and the doctors walked out with their heads down and disappointed faces. Your heart dropped. You knew what was coming.

“We’re sorry.” They all bowed to you like it was the end of a performance, like you were supposed to clap.

“No…no no no no, he can’t…” You didn’t know what to do with yourself whether to sink down to your knees and cry your eyes out or to walk in there and make him comeback “please …. please… I can’t … without him I can’t … Jimin …. Jimin do something please … you-” Your ‘husband’ didn’t know what to do either. He knew it would happen eventually, you both did, but not this soon. He didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m sorry.” He pulled you into his arms, the only thing he knew to do, and chanted words into your ear. You held back tightly letting loud sobs and piercing screams tear your throat on that hospital floor.

~~

“Hey, get up and drink this. ” Jimin spoke softly letting you lean against him as he handed you a glass of water. It’s been two weeks, two weeks without seeing your dad or hearing his voice. You couldn’t do anything but spend your days rolling around in empty memories and unstoppable tears.

Jimin refused to let you go back to your house alone, so it was either his house or him moving in with you. Since you wanted to be close to your father’s scent, to feel his presence, he quickly grabbed his stuff and took you there. Ever since then, he had been taking care of you.

“I don’t deserve you.” You gave him back the cup and he set it aside. Ever since that day, you couldn’t meet his eyes, and as more days passed you felt more sorry towards him. For burdening him.

“Where did that come from?”

“You should be out with your friends having fun and partying not here taking care of me.”

“You’re my bestfriend, and temporary-wife,” He shrugged slightly at that “if I don’t take care of you, who will?”

“Speaking of that, now that my dad is gone we don’t have to fake this any longer. You can go out and find yourself the real one.” you smiled bitterly. You were too much of a mess to ask him to stay, to drag him into the what you became after your father’s death.

“Why can’t it be you?” Jimin clenched his fist on the sheets and looked away “More like, why can’t it be me?”

“What do you mean, Jiminie?” You searched for his eyes but he refused to meet your gaze.

“What if I never want to find anyone else? What if I was using this whole thing as an excuse to get closer to you, even if just for a couple of months?”

“You don’t really- is this a joke?”

“A joke?” He laughed bitterly “Am I that unworthy of you?”

“W-what?-no … Jimin- Jimin wait ” Before you could stop him, Jimin rushed out slamming the door behind him and leaving you.

How could he think that he was ever unworthy of your love ? Did he …? No, that was out of question and simply impossible. You were the one who deemed yourself unworthy of someone so perfect. Someone that had every aspect of his life in check. Someone who had thousands of other girls, much better girls, less broken girls, waiting for him to just throw a glance at them.

You stepped out of your room for the first time in days, the sunlight finally hitting your paled skin after being deprived of it for so long. He wasn’t there anymore.

You looked around the old house. The house you both grew up in and fell back into the same cycle if memories. Running around bare feet trying to get water on each other. Fighting over the remote control and who gets to watch their show first. Dancing around mindlessly to trending songs. Getting the occasional punishments from your dad after you both picked a fight at school, and won of course.

Memories of the day that Jimin moved out. Right after college. You remember crying alone in your room because you weren’t going to see him as much anymore. Your dad walking in and making fun of you, grown ass woman, crying like a child over a guy. You should have known then that your father wasn’t a stupid man. But you, Jimin and you, were both obliviously stupid.

“I want you to be happy, don’t just cry and cry alone in your room after I’m gone. Go out and meet your friends. Do everything you want to while you can, don’t be like your old man.”

You picked your phone up, turning it on for the first time since the wedding day, it buzzed with notifications one after another. All asking if you were okay, where you were, if you needed anything, that they would all be there for you. However, you just needed Jimin. You wanted him back.

But, the only thing you got was the call back ring and a robotic voice saying he wasn’t available at the moment.

You curled into a ball on the couch and waited. You hoped he would comeback. You needed him to comeback. Somewhere along checking your phone and looking at the time, sleep found its way into mesmerizing you to sleep.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” Jimin’s soft voice tore you away from the not-so-pleasant dream you were having. You opened your puffy eyes to look at him, your vision still clouded by sleep.

“I … waiting f-for you.” You sat up immediately biting your lip at his confused expression. He knelt down putting the bags he had with him on the coffee table then focusing back on you.

“I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have burst out on you like that when you did nothing wrong. I guess I was just stressed out and you… you were only getting worse and I don’t know what to do for you or if I’m the right person to be comforting you.” You listened to his words with a gentle smile slowly growing on your face at his nervous tone. Jimin was always bad at talking, you made fun of him for that a lot. But he always found a way to make you smile.

“Jimin… I plan on getting better from now on. I will do as my father told me to, that would make him happy even if he’s not here to see it.”

“That’s good. I’m so happy to hear that, I can’t stand seeing you hurting like this while being so helpless. And-”

“And I think we should talk about what happened earlier and what you said…” Jimin cut you off by standing up abruptly.

“No, you don’t have to. I don’t want to burden you with unwanted feelings.”

“Who said they’re unwanted- god Jimin- how could you be so dense.” You sighed loudly letting your gaze fall to your hands. All these years, I did nothing but love you more and more but-“

’'Y/N, are you-” serious? You nodded before he could speak. Jimin suddenly started laughing startling you. He didn’t say a word, just hid his face in his hand and leaned back laughing. You could only see the spasm of his adam’s apple and couldn’t tell whether they were laughs or cries.

“Are you okay?”

“I spent all these years trying to distance myself from you because I thought it was all just pity. Your father taking me in, you accepting me like it was nothing. I didn’t think I should put it all in danger just because I had a crush-okay more than a crush- on you.” Jimin sighed “I didn’t believe I deserved to be happy when my parents were rotting away.”

This was the first time you heard Jimin speaking of this. You felt betrayed since you always told him everything that was wrong, other than the fact that you had feelings for him, but you also felt sorry that he was going through all this conflict on his own when the answer was so simple. This was the first time you saw Jimin crying.

You dropped to your knees next to him pulling him into a hug, as tightly as you could, something similar to what he did to you.

“I’m sorry, Jimin-ah” You buried your face in his neck whispering “I’m the one who has been dense all this time. I really don’t deserve you.”. He shook his head earnestly pulling you away from him, enough to look at you, he wiped his eyes and cleared his throat.

“No, I made sure you wouldn’t know but, somehow, ahjussi caught up on it. That’s when I moved out because I didn’t want him to cut me off completely.”

“He would never-”

“Yeah, I know now, I know it very well now” Jimin tangled his fingers in your hair pulling you back to him. You loved his firm arms around you. You loved how secure they were. You loved how warm and comforting he was.

“So? How do you …. what do we do now?”

“That marriage registration sounds very very tempting” You rubbed your cheek against him like you always do, he would have mocked you for imitating a puppy, but now it made his heart flutter even more than then. Although the mocking he did was always a way to hide the blush on his face.

“So soon? We can take it -”

“I think twelve years was slow enough.”

“We weren’t even legal for half of that.”

Twelve years is long enough.” You repeated pulling back to glare at him. Jimin stared at you for a long moment, his fingers still playing in your hair, and smiled. Your eyebrows twitched asking an unspoken question.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He asked his hand moving to your cheeks.

“I’m pretty sure I do” You laughed nodding your head, he chuckled as well feeling the blush coming up to his cheeks again so he did what he always does; conceal it from you.

Jimin leaned closer gently pressing his plump and full lips against yours, testing your reaction. When you pressed back with the same determination, he smiled into the kiss. That was your unspoken “I love you” for now.

You had the rest of your lifetime to catch up on all the ones you never said.

anonymous asked:

Hello!! I'm so happy I came across this blog, and that it exists. Lets 100% sin together!! How about writing something with saeran since he needs some love too~ Oh and also, do you have an AO3 account which I could follow you on? :) Thanks again!

Omg I’m blushing so much. You are too sweet!!!!! I just started writing like…the day I started this blog 😂. Mystic Messenger really got the creative juices flowing so I don’t actually have an AO3 account! I decided to go off of one of the headcanons I already wrote for Saeran and make it into a longer fic, I hope that’s okay! (This got wildly out of hand too I’m not even sure where it came from)

WARNING: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE SECRET ENDINGS AND MENTIONS OF PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE

——

You’d been through hell and back this week, and this shit was just the icing on the garbage cake. When this white and pink haired man had made you his assistant you thought, sure, how bad can it be? What you weren’t counting on was the psycho cult he seemed to be a part of and that crazy blonde woman who was their leader. Rika. Every time you saw her face it set your teeth on edge - something was seriously wrong with her. Since you were Saeran’s assistant, you had convinced them to let you take over his “medication” - you took one look and almost strangled the vacant eyed girl that had handed them to you.

They were pumping him full of pills that would warp his mind and make him susceptible to brainwashing. It was in small doses, but your blood boiled when you asked how long he’d been on them. Since he was a child? You had to have heard wrong. You HAD to have. So instead of following orders, you switched them out with the bottle of placebos you stole from the lab. You could tell he was starting to feel the effects after so many years of manipulation - Saeran had begun opening up to you, he even LAUGHED at one of your jokes the other day. His entire demeanor changed when you walked through the door, and as much as you tried to stop this train it was clearer every day that you were in love with him.

Stockholm syndrome. It was just a bad case of Stockholm syndrome. Which is what you would say if it weren’t for the fact that there were plenty of other appealing men locked up in this mountain castle with you, and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of this one. You sure as hell weren’t falling in love with Rika. When you walked into his office, there was sweat slicked across his brow and everything on his desk was smashed across the floor.

“Hey, Saeran…tough day?” His head snapped to you, anger simmering right under the surface. “No…I just…Rika was here. I need to be better, work faster. I have to DO THIS. He needs to be PUNISHED!” He screamed into the room, bringing already bloody knuckles down hard onto the desk. You ran to the bathroom, grabbing down the first aid kit and tripping over your own feet in your haste. Saeran was pacing, dripping blood onto the floor when you heaved into the room. You walked over to him and he gaped as you jerked his arm, shoving him onto the desk as you slammed the kit down next to him.

“What the hell are you thinking, busting yourself up like this? Are you any good to us bleeding all over the floor?” He didn’t know what to make of this hissing cat of a woman in front of him, and you were glad to have finally knocked him off his damn high horse. “You think Rika gives a shit if you tear yourself to pieces for Mint Eye’s little scheme? You think she cares if you find your brother and knock his teeth down his throat? Don’t you give me that look, Saeran. I’m not an idiot, I know what you’re doing.” You finished wrapping his knuckles in gauze while you spoke, his eyes burning so hot that you’d be dead if thoughts could kill.

“And who cares if I bust myself up, MC? You? Don’t make me laugh. You’re here until I no longer need you, and I’ll throw you away just like that husband of yours did. You’d know about knocking someone’s teeth down their throat since he did it to you the night you had that miscarriage. You DISGUST me. I could NEVER love someone like - ”

Saeran didn’t get to finish his monologue about your horrible little life because in those last sentences he ripped out your heart - the same heart you’d thought about giving to him. You’d never smacked someone before, even when your ex husband took everything from you in one night - but here you were. Saeran’s left cheek was already turning bright red, and the shock in his eyes was all you saw before a veil of tears clouded your vision and you stalked out of the office.

You grabbed a quilt from a closet and didn’t stop at the door. You weren’t sure where you were going, but when you came upon a beautiful little clearing with a stream nearby, you threw down the blanket and flopped onto it. Tears leaked out as you watched the evening clouds roll by and those old memories flashed through your head. Everything had been going great - your life had been PERFECT for those first couple years of marital bliss…and then your husband had started drinking. At first it had been one here and there, then a six pack after work. When he moved on to liquor he started hitting you, among the casual rape you had accepted as normal.

When you found out you were pregnant that had been the final straw - you’d made up your mind that you were leaving, you wouldn’t let him do this to your baby. You made the mistake of trying to talk to him, and he had snapped. The last thing you remember from that night was him kicking you down a set of stairs - after he had busted your teeth and slammed your stomach with a crow bar. When you woke up in the hospital a month later he had been arrested and was sitting in jail waiting to be sentenced, but your baby was dead.

Saeran knew most of this, and he threw it in your face. When you were done reliving those horrible months, the stars hung in the sky and tears still fell from your eyes. How long had you been crying in this clearing? How many tears could one person cry in a lifetime? You were going to cash this shit in at some point - no more tears past 25. You sat up, rubbing your wet face with the edge of the blanket when you heard someone behind you.

Saeran. There he was, looking like he’d been hit by a truck. Staring at the lines of salt water down your face, you saw him suck in a breath and sigh before he dropped next to you. When he began to talk, your heart broke even more. He’d been abandoned by the one person he had counted on to always be there for him, subjected to torture at the hands of a drunk woman who used him for a paycheck. He’d found his purpose and salvation in Mint Eye, bound by his need for revenge and the mind warping drugs he’d been fed. You listened, and understood.

This man was just as broken as you were. His life had been drug over broken glass and nails, yours through broken bones and fire. You were both in pieces, looking for a way to pick them up - but maybe doing it alone had been the problem. You watched him finish, waiting for you to reject him like everyone else. To walk away, when he needed you just as much as you needed him. He brought his face towards yours, his lips a breath away when he apologized.

You weren’t going to walk away. You’d help him pick up the pieces and you’d build a house from the shards of your hearts. You slanted your mouth to his, playing with his tongue on yours. Saeran groaned, his hand coming up to grip your hair and leaning over you as you pulled him down onto the blanket. There was some fumbling around in the moonlight until you were both stripped bare, his mouth hot on your neck.

“MC…are you sure? I’m not a good man. I don’t deserve-” his words were cut off when you pulled him onto you, your wetness sliding against him. You gasped as he slid himself forward, angling your hips so his tip was at your entrance. “Saeran…I love you. And I want this with you.” His eyes widened at your response, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He kissed you passionately, sliding into you in one swift movement. You began moving together under the night sky, your moans and gasps filling the small clearing along with the crickets and frogs. It had been so long since you’d been with someone, and you could feel the pressure growing in your hips. You gripped his hair in one hand, the other moving to your clit as his movements came faster and more sloppy. You felt yourself twist around him as your orgasm hit you, his name like a prayer on your lips.

Saeran lasted a few more pumps of his hips until he painted your insides with his seed, groaning his love into your ear. “I love you too, MC. I know I didn’t say it earlier, but…I do. I can’t promise anything, but…” you silenced him with a kiss. It was tender, and he ran his fingers through your hair while you relaxed together on the ground. When you walked back to the house, it was hand in hand - and hearts intertwined.

The veil deliberately marks women as private and restricted property, nonpersons. The veil sets women apart from men and apart from the world; it restrains them, confines them, grooms them for docility. A mind can be cramped just as a body may be, and a Muslim veil blinkers both your vision and your destiny. It is the mark of a kind of apartheid, not the domination of a race but of a sex.

aihierophant  asked:

Hi I really love the way you write. I just want a story with Kise where he dislikes her first but falls in love later on. :)

whoops angst Thanks for waiting! Sorry it took so long, I hope this is okay!

He always found that his fan girls were annoying. Most were just trying to get into his pants, while others only wanted the glory that came with dating a model. All he was really focused on at the moment was basketball, he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, and if he did get one it sure as hell wouldn’t be a girl from his school. 

So when (Last) (First), an avid member of his fan club confessed to him as many others before him, he was in less than an amicable mood. He was harsher than normal with her, using words he normally wouldn’t use, but he had had already been confessed to three other times today. She couldn’t have known that. 

“Listen, I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now, and I don’t want one. If I wanted one, I would probably get one. And it wouldn’t be you, or any of these other girls looking for a pretty face to date. So I hate to be rude, but you’re a bother. Please leave.” Once he’s finished his rant, he looks to her face, waiting for the water works and preparing an insincere apology. 

But the tears never came.

“I see. I’m sorry for bothering you.” She smiles, though the gesture doesn’t reach the corners of her (e/c) eyes. “I understand, Kise-san.” The hurt was so obvious, but she bows and puts the confession letter back into her bag nonetheless. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” She turns around and runs away, and Kise notes that, unlike the rest of them, there was no group of girls waiting to comfort her. Though he doesn’t dwell on this for long, his mind immediately going elsewhere as he continues on his day. Hopefully this would be the end of it for today. 


When he saw (First) again, it was in homeroom. It’s but a passing glance as he’s trying to get to his seat through the gaggle of girls. Her eyes are undoubtedly red and puffy, but her smile is gentle and calm as she nods her greeting, one that he unconsciously returns.

 She was sitting away from the rest of the class, all by herself. Now that he thought about it, did she really talk to anyone? He couldn’t recall. He finds himself so distracted that his fans ask him what’s wrong, pulling him out of his trance. Why was he so concerned for a rejected fan girl? She’ll bounce back and find another obsession, just watch. 


When he saw her again, it was while he was escaping the daily mob during lunch time. He had tried to explain that his mother had time to make him lunch the night before, but his reasoning fell on deaf ears and he was almost engulfed by the homemade lunches that came his way.

 He manages to find an empty classroom, shutting the door and locking it. Or, at least he had thought is was empty. When he turns around, he finds a familiar (h/c) head and (e/c) eyes sitting alone, a book on her lap and her lunch set out on the table. 

“Ah, Kise-san…?” Immediately, he turns around, about to leave, when he feels another warm hand wrap around his own and pull him back. “Wait!” The sound of stampeding fan girls urges him to heed her advice, and he holds his breath until the sound is gone.

“Thank you…” He moves to look down at her, but she lets go of him immediately, returning to her desk. “You…wouldn’t mind if I stayed here, right?” (First) glances at him, then shakes her head, gesturing to all of the empty chairs in the room. He chooses to take the one beside her, unable to help his curiosity. She doesn’t meet his eyes, keeping her eyes on the reading material. He finds the silence peaceful and comforting, and he helps himself to the Naporitan spaghetti, his eyes floating up to the other girl beside him. She was quite pretty, he couldn’t help but note. Unless her personality was bad, there was no reason for her to be alone like this. For a moment he considered that maybe she was just sulking from his rejection, but intuition told him otherwise. 

His thoughts are interrupted when (First) finishes her food and starts to clean up. She looks at him as she is walking out and nods, smiling gently as she always does. 

“Have a good day, Kise-san.” 

“Ah? Uh, yeah..you too…” She is out the door before he can even blink again. She was an enigma, that was for sure. 


The third time Kise saw (First) was during lunch the next day. She was in the same spot, with the same lunch, and the same book. He took the same seat and once again, was able to eat his lunch in peace. Many times afterwards he would find himself returning to that classroom, to (First) with her books and her lunch. He was so curious about her, but she kept him at an arm’s length away, always friendly but not inviting. 

That’s your fault, though. An annoying voice would always remind him of this. He had tried to apologize for his behavior before, admitting that while he was not looking for a girlfriend, he wanted to be friends. 

“That makes me happy, Kise-san. I would love to be your friend.” It hardly sounded sincere, but he didn’t mind. He was curious about (First) (Last) and her mannerisms. He began to ask her more and more questions every time they met, and even walked home together. Slowly, bit by bit, (First) began to respond more earnestly to him. She was never the social type. That’s why she was always alone. She chose to be alone. (”Wow, (Last)-chan, I’m envious!” He would joke with a laugh.) He learned what she liked and didn’t like, what she listened to, what she read. She liked sports but was often too timid to play them. She came to Kaijo because of it’s athletic reputation. 

Soon after, he began to notice the little things. Her mannerisms, her habits, the way she spoke and the meanings behind her body language. He was good at observing people, and while she was confusing at first, he was slowly solving the puzzle to her personality. 

Then, he started noticing what about her made his heart skip a beat. When she played with her hair, when she laughed, when she smiled. When, once in a blue moon, she would get angry at him and there was this fire in her eyes that sent his heart aflutter. Kise knew that he had fallen for (First), a girl that he had initially rejected. But he was fine with it. After all, he could find another girl. He didn’t want to make things difficult or complicated for (First).

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. 


The first time Kise ever saw her cry was after he had confronted her in the hallways, angry about what he had just seen. She kept trying to pry it out of him, concerned about the state of her friendship with him. 

“Kise, please, just talk to me? I don’t understand why you’re so angry!” Why? He thought with great indignation. Because you were talking to another guy and I’m jealous, that’s why. I wish you were mine. He couldn’t say that. 

“I’m fine, I’m not angry.” 

“Don’t try to pull that on me, Ryota.” He flinches when she uses his first name. He could already seen the embers flaring within the (e/c) irises with every gust of anger he threw at her, dancing around her pupils and threatening to burn the wall he had built between them. It made it that much harder to keep his silence on his emotions. He couldn’t keep this facade up for much longer, he knew that. He had to tell her. 

“I’m sorry, (First)-cchi…” He smiles wryly as he places his hands on her shoulders, leaning over and pressing their lips together. Ah, she ate melon bread earlier. She was so sweet…His admiration and fascination with the taste of her lips is cut painfully short when she wrenches herself from his grasp, eyes wide, cheeks red. There’s a suffocating silence, and then tears. 

“K-Kise…?” He hears a gentle sob before footsteps, but he doesn’t dare run after her. After all, he could barely see what direction she went in through the veil of tears obscuring his vision. 


The next time he saw her, she was sitting alone on a swing set in the park. It was late at night, far too dangerous for a pretty girl to be all alone. That was his reasoning for when he approached her, softly calling out her name. She jolts as if she had been stabbed, standing up and trying to escape from him. Her speed is no match for his, as he grabs her hand and pulls her into his warm embrace, pressing his face into the top of her head, ignoring the ache in his heart every single time she punches his chest. 

“Let go! Stop it!” 

“(First)-cchi, I’m sorry…I’m in love with you, okay?” 

“Is that why you got so angry when I was talking to someone else? Why now, Ryota? Just when I’m getting over you, why do you have to make me go through this again?” The hurt in her voice is all too obvious, and it only makes him hold her closer.

“It’s different now, I promise you. I want you and no one else (First)-cchi. You have every right to turn me away, but I won’t give up on you until it’s too late. So please…don’t push me away now.” He can feel his tears starting again as (First) stops struggling. When he’s sure she won’t run, he finally lets go, watching her tears pour down her cheeks. He cups them in his hands, feeling the softness of her skin, looking down at her with molten, smoldering glowing eyes. “I promise…I won’t let you regret it.” 

She looks up at him, hands clenched at her sides, not making a move to touch him, but not resisting him when he leans in, pressing their lips together in a long awaited kiss. Hesitant and tender at first, he rubs circles into her cheeks with great care, rejoicing internally when he feels her hands come up around his neck, pulling him closer to her warmth. The kiss deepens, and hands begin to wander, finding asylum on the nape of her neck, entangled with her hair, and down on her lower back, trapping her willingly against the hard muscle of his chest. It seems as if they’ve been together for eternity, but far too short lived, when they have to part for air. (First) touches the back of the hand that had migrated to her cheek, (e/c) meeting gold with flushed skin as she parts wet lips and confirms her trust of Kise’s promise. 

“Don’t make me regret choosing you, Ryota.” 


The second time (First) cried in Kise’s presence was the day he got down on his knee and presented her with a ring he painstakingly selected for her, custom made by a friend who supported his decision. When she nods and throws herself into his arms, he presses his lips to her ear, unable to help his grin. 

“Ne, (First)-cchi, did you ever regret it? Choosing me? ” She pulls away to peck his lips, running her fingers through golden strands. He knows her answer by the look on her face, but he wants to hear her say it. 

“Never.” 

Step softly, under snow or rain,
To find the place where men can pray;
The way is all so very plain
That we may lose the way.
Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore
On tortured puzzles from our youth,
We know all labyrinthine lore,
We are the three wise men of yore,
And we know all things but the truth.
We have gone round and round the hill
And lost the wood among the trees,
And learnt long names for every ill,
And served the mad gods, naming still
The furies the Eumenides.
The gods of violence took the veil
Of vision and philosophy,
The Serpent that brought all men bale,
He bites his own accursed tail,
And calls himself Eternity.
Go humbly…it has hailed and snowed…
With voices low and lanterns lit;
So very simple is the road,
That we may stray from it.
The world grows terrible and white,
And blinding white the breaking day;
We walk bewildered in the light,
For something is too large for sight,
And something much too plain to say.
The Child that was ere worlds begun
(…We need but walk a little way,
We need but see a latch undone…)
The Child that played with moon and sun
Is playing with a little hay.
The house from which the heavens are fed,
The old strange house that is our own,
Where trick of words are never said,
And Mercy is as plain as bread,
And Honour is as hard as stone.
Go humbly, humble are the skies,
And low and large and fierce the Star;
So very near the Manger lies
That we may travel far.
Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
To roar to the resounding plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
For God Himself is born again,
And we are little children walking
Through the snow and rain.
—  G.K. Chesterton, “The Wise Men”

klarolineforevermine  asked:

kc + I'm a newly-turned werewolf without a pack and I can't really control myself well on full moon nights yet and you keep finding me passed out naked on your lawn" AU :D :D

+ “You locked yourself outside of your apartment and there’s a storm rolling in and I pity you so please come into my apartment and I’ll make us some hot chocolate?” AU

So I asked for mini-drabble requests and evidently mini, for me, means +5k words. Anyway, I’ve never written werewolf AU before. And I sort of loved writing this. It’s fluffy/supernatural. AU but not so much AH. 

Enjoy!


It started about five months ago. And it was driving Caroline insane. Actually, she might actually be insane. After all, she definitely sounded crazy when she insisted that something was wrong in the air. No, not wrong. More like… magical. An electrifying charge, a mysterious shift. Especially during full moons.

The first time it happened, Caroline was comfortably tucked into her warm, soft bed, soundly asleep. Her slumber had this kind of sweetness to it that managed to dispel all stress from the body. Her mind was completely relaxed, her being entirely surrendered to the warmth of comforting sleep. So it was no wonder that she was beyond irritated when noise broke just outside of her door and shook her awake.

When she first sat up in her bed, hair standing at odd angles, brows furrowed, eyes drooping, she couldn’t place what exactly startled her. It did not sound like a loud bang, at least she didn’t think so. Nor was it stormy outside for it to be the rumble of thunder. She concentrated her unusually acute hearing on her surroundings, but could hear nothing for several seconds aside from the padding of paws against the sidewalk. Did the dog bark? No, dogs didn’t usually disturb her. Then she heard it, a loud howl. Yes, a howl. She had never heard a howl before. Not this close, not this loud. She froze in her place, her eyes wide and her stomach lurching. What could a wolf possibly be doing in her neighborhood?

Kicking off the blankets, she walked towards the window which overlooked the quiet street she’d finally found comfort in. Yet she saw nothing. The darkness completely veiled her vision. Aside from the few scattered lights in front of the houses –the one right across from hers not even turned on- she couldn’t see anything. A few moments of eerie silence were followed by the rustling of the large plum tree in her front yard and a howl. Though this time it sounded more like a whimper. Caroline barely had time to process the whimper when what sounded like several twigs snapping reached her ears.

Intrigued, her first thought was to go outside and explore. Her second was that she liked her life too much to risk it. Even if the snapping sound, mingled with occasional, low whimpers, which she probably wouldn’t have been able to hear if she hadn’t been listening so intently, made her heart race for some reason.

It took only five minutes for such rude awakening to go still. The snapping and the whimpering, the rustling of the tree, the incessant sound of paws on dirt all ceased. And Caroline found herself enveloped in a strange silence. The kind that made her arm’s hair stand on end and charged the air with peculiar familiarity. It resembled the feeling she gets whenever a storm is approaching, or after one has wreaked its havoc through the city, or when she felt the strangeness of the air surrounding Bonnie before the latter even admitted that she was a witch. Yet that feeling wasn’t quite like any of those. It distressed her even more. Perhaps it was that she did not know what it was that had everything to do with her concern.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline scanned the neighborhood with her eyes once more, but saw nothing. She trained her hearing for anything unusual, but caught nothing.

It’s nothing. She shook her head. She would love to think that her instincts never betrayed her, but they have. Several times before. She tended to read too much into things or to freak out when unnecessary. This had to be one of those times. It must be just a dog causing trouble.

Shrugging off her discomfort, she slid back into bed and fell asleep again. The next morning, she found no evidence of the incident of the night before.

She laughed at herself all the way to work.  

Keep reading

The Light and the Blind Man

Canon Era | Barricade Heaven | Enjoltaire Strongly Hinted | ~1K

I owe this idea to @desmoulinx and their text post. I just wanted to prolongate the magic

“He hardly saw the roses, he ignored spring, he did not hear the carolling of the birds” 

Marius had not lied, there had been a burst of light, only it hadn’t come from gunpowder. It had come from a man. Of all the adjectives at his disposal, “radiant” wasn’t one Enjolras would have used to describe Grantaire. Yet, here he was, resplendent of courage, almost to recklessness. Enjolras took his hand, feeling the warmth of the foreign skin trailing up his arm. His smile was not ended when the report resounded. Blown by the bullets, Enjolras lost the comforting touch of Grantaire. Aching from the loss more than the bullets, he felt himself fall backwards, anticipating the moment his spine would meet the hard and cold wall behind.

Such moment never came to be.

His hand, in the search of its new friend, groped around blindly. Surely Grantaire’s couldn’t have gone far, surely he could hold him until the very end. Something soft and fresh tickled his palm. Never had the words “blades of grass” ever been so ill-suited. There was nothing sharp about them, they felt like cotton under his fingers, if anything. His thumb brushed the hint of a flower and Enjolras opened his eyes.

The light of the sun did not dazzle him as he emerged from the darkness. It felt purer than any sunlight he had ever experienced, as though he had spent his whole life with a thin veil blocking his vision. It invited him to see at last. Enjolras’ eyes fell on the green expanse first, its vibrance making it hard to ignore, before they noticed the bed of flowers he was lying on. He could see each petal, each vein running along them. He had never been one to stop and smell the roses, but, for once, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet fragrance.

Suddenly, Enjolras’ gaze drifted towards his chest and his stomach. No red roses had bloomed from the impacts of the bullets. His clothes had lost the grime of battle, even the tears in the fabric had disappeared. Enjolras tentatively raised a hand to his heart, where he was sure a bullet had pierced him. Finding his skin smooth and untouched, he understood.

He slowly took his red vest off and folded it carefully. He wouldn’t need it anymore. There was no need to be a beacon, no need for leadership here. They parted like old friends.

No sooner had Enjolras laid the vest on the grass that the joyful hymn of a bird called for his attention. Tilting his head up, he noticed the canopy of a large tree, in which birds were singing and squirrels were playing. He had always thought Rousseau exaggerated his transports of delight whenever he described nature. Now that he was gazing properly, Enjolras found no lies or hyperboles to his prose. Not that he had never looked upon beautiful things, but his aesthetic pleasure had often been more mental than visual. His living self had seen beauty in ideals and concepts. His present self saw beauty in everything.

Laughter woke him up from his reverie. A few yards away, he saw Combeferre and Jean Prouvaire sat side by side, the former inspecting the flowers with interest, while the latter was busy weaving them into crowns. Jehan… Enjolras had been ready to trade his life against a traitor’s. The smile on his friend’s face somewhat soothed the guilt of a deal sealed too late. He noticed Joly’s mop of hair behind them, the man lying on the grass, his head settled on Bossuet’s lap. Pollen allergies surely didn’t belong in heaven, Enjolras reckoned, knowing of Joly usual relunctance to approach fields and flowers during the summer months.

Was it was this was? An eternal summer month? Enjolras couldn’t say he minded. He recognised the laugh he had heard as Gavroche’s, as he spotted the gamin playing with Bahorel. The both of them were caught in a pretence of wrestling, the bigger man surrounding too easily to the boy’s attacks. Across from him, Enjolras noticed a woman leaning against a tree, looking at the pair with the same fondness. Her features were vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a name on her face. She was observing the jest one moment and conversing with Feuilly the next. Enjolras smiled and waved at them. He would have eternity to get to know her.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the familiar outline of Courfeyrac, plunged in a deep conversation with another young woman whom he didn’t know. The name of Marius and Cosette rose from their exchange, and though Enjolras couldn’t piece the fragments together, he knew the story without having ever been told its details.

Something, however, was amiss. Or rather someone. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen and Enjolras’ heart started to race in his chest. Who knew one could still feel fear, even in death? He surveyed the grassy expanse, looking for another shade of green altogether. As though he had sensed his distress, Grantaire appeared from behind the tree truck, his hand detailing the bark. He sat next to Enjolras and the former leader couldn’t help but notice how healthy he looked, how rosy his cheeks were and how genuine his smile was. He smiled in return, a smile that would never be severed by bullets. A smile that could last for days, weeks and months. A smile that could last for an eternity, if he so wished.

Enjolras threaded his fingers with Grantaire’s. That hand wasn’t so foreign now, it had become an extension of himself. He saw the reflection of the sun shine in Grantaire’s eyes, and his smile grew wider as he felt the gentle squeeze against his palm.

Then, truly, no one loved the light like the blind man.