Altair's S'Mores

Welcome to Altair's writing blog! Due to a loss of inspiration, this blog is currently on a hiatus. Still, thanks for dropping by! Don't forget to grab a s'more~

[writing-prompt-s]

Ever since you could remember, you had known your fate: to give your life to save the crown.

Two years ago, the royal family was killed, the kingdom thrown into anarchy in the process. There is no longer a ruling family, and you are now immortal until someone takes the throne. But will you let someone take it?

[altairs-smores]

Happy Halloween!

Ok. I know it’s so friggin late for Halloween but this is my contribution, a gift to nightli/Mimi!! {MC} in a Halloween Secret Pumpkin event on a Mystic Messenger discord server I’m in! @mm-discord​

[Also on AO3]

Preview: It was pitch black, even darker than his room with the lights closed and the curtains drawn together. There wasn’t any sound except the hollow blowing of the wind and the leaves rustling, yet that even made it scarier. Yoosung gulped, his eyes trying to find any source of light in the darkness, yet nothing. “Why didn’t you bring your phone…?” He bit his bottom lip, trying to keep in the whimpers that might spill as he tried hard not to panic.

It was pitch black, even darker than his room with the lights closed and the curtains drawn together. There wasn’t any sound except the hollow blowing of the wind and the leaves rustling, yet that even made it scarier. Yoosung gulped, his eyes trying to find any source of light in the darkness, yet nothing. “Why didn’t you bring your phone…?” He bit his bottom lip, trying to keep in the whimpers that might spill as he tried hard not to panic. He couldn’t even see a person’s silhouette with how dark it was. And where was Seven?! He said he’d be here! The wind grew stronger, echoing and creating the illusion of a moaning ghost, and it just made him jump and squeak. Where was Seven?

The blond’s breathing turned shallow now, panic seeped into his bones and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Seven was nowhere to be seen in the dark, and it made him scared. His small frame trembled as Yoosung hugged himself - he didn’t want to be alone. He knelt down, huddled into a ball as he tried to keep from shuddering but failed. The darkness was eerie, the wind was howling, he felt cold and he just wanted to find his cellphone or Seven. Yoosung didn’t want this.

There suddenly was sound on his left. Yoosung flinched, looking at the direction where he heard the sound. “W-who’s there?” He sniffed, his voice small and cracking from fear. No one replied, but the noise continued. And it was inching closer. He scrambled away from the noise, blindly grappling in the darkness just to get away. His back hit something hard, but it was too warm to be the wall. He stiffened, a sob wrecking his whole body as he prayed to whatever deity was listening that the thing behind him wasn’t what he was thinking about.

Yoosung gulped, gathering whatever’s left of his courage and slowly looked behind him. Oh… It was just a pillow. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a distorted woman’s face - the face of his nightmares - came scaring the wits out of him. He screamed, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to protect himself from the… ghost?! Monster?! He didn’t know! He just wanted that thing away from him!

He was crying so hard he didn’t hear the voice trying to calm him down. Yoosung screamed some more when he felt hands on his shoulders, yet violet eyes met with golden ones. He stared into Seven’s worried orbs, trying to understand what happened. “Hey, hey. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean for you to be that scared!” So… so it was a prank? Yoosung seemed frozen on the spot, his body curled tight in itself as Seven tried to make him snap out of his reverie.

“Y-Yoosungie…?”

“W-why would you do that?!” He was crying again, hitting Seven as hard as he could. “You almost scared me to death!” The blond kept hitting the hacker, but he was just so tired from the suspense he was subjected under. He leaned against Seven, still halfheartedly punching as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around him.

“I’m so sorry, Yoosungie.” Seven whined, holding him close but Yoosung wasn’t having any of it. He pushed the hacker away, not caring that Seven tumbled, as he sniffled and stood up, in time for the lights to open. The blond immediately covered his eyes from being assaulted by the sudden light in the room. His vision slowly adjusted and he saw Saeran standing by the light switch, an unimpressed look on his face.

“You two are ruining the movie. I’ll move to my room.” He said nonchalantly, grabbing the CD and his tub of ice cream. Saeran stopped in his tracks, looking at Yoosung before sighing. “Fix this, idiot hyung.” With one final roll of his eyes, the younger Choi disappeared into his room.

Yoosung was still sniffling, his heart won’t calm down and he could still feel tremors whenever he’d breathe. He was used to being pranked by Seven, but this… this was too much. He really thought he was alone. He really thought he was going to die from shock. Yoosung slumped on the couch, ignoring Seven’s pleas of forgiveness from behind him. He was pissed and no amount of apologizing would make him recover from what he just suffered.

Just when he thought it finally grew quiet and peaceful did Seven appear once more, placing a glass of juice and a plate of Halloween-themed cookies on the table and opened the telly before sitting on the couch, a distance away from him. Yoosung didn’t pay him any heed, stubborn in his decision to ignore the redhead. In fact, he reached for his phone and went online, choosing to chat with ZEN and Jaehee who were logged in the chatroom.

The unusual silence nagged at the blond. He kept stealing glances at Seven who seemed so focused on the show on aliens in the television. Yoosung bit his lip, logging out of the chatroom as the others went off too. As much as he was pissed at Seven, some noise would have been better in that moment. Seven nagging would have been better too. The blond reached for the cookies, but didn’t notice Seven doing the same until they touched each others’ hands. Yoosung flinched, uttering a soft “sorry” before going to grab the glass instead. His face brightened when he tasted pumpkin juice, humming in approval because it has been a while since the blond even had that. Why must pumpkins be seasonal anyway?

Meowing sounds filled the room, but the awkward tension still emanated from the two. It was weird for Seven to not pester Yoosung. He would usually do that after a prank, pester the blond for forgiveness until he reluctantly accepts before being smothered in hugs and kisses. The blond absentmindedly played with the straw, taking note of its orange and white color combination, then he turned his attention to the television. But he couldn’t focus. He bit his bottom lip once more, getting the courage to be the one who’d break the ice first. Before he could say anything, a plate was on his lap.

On it were cookies bitten and shaped to spell out ‘I’m sorry T__T’, Yoosung blinking at it for a few seconds before finally looking at Seven properly. The hacker wasn’t nonchalant as he initially thought - his leg was fidgeting, he was fiddling with his jacket, and golden eyes kept flitting everywhere instead of staying focused on the TV. Seven was halfheartedly nibbling on a cookie too, crumbs falling on his shirt and pants yet he didn’t seem to notice.

“Seven.” The hacker tensed and looked at him, probably anticipating the punching or hurtful words but Yoosung wanted none of that anymore. He may have been pissed, but he didn’t want to spend Halloween angry at this prankster. His prankster who was also his lover, but still a prankster. Yoosung opened his arms, pouting a bit as he glared at the redhead. “You’re not even working for it.”

The hacker sprung from his seat, gathering Yoosung in his arms and it was a barrage of “I’m sorry”s and “I didn’t want you to cry”s and the blond felt weirdly sated, lying in the arms of Seven as they were sprawled out on the couch. “I’m sorry, Yoosungie. I won’t do that again.” Seven murmured against his hair, planting a kiss on top of his head as he held on tight. Yoosung pouted, still sniffing from all the crying he did as he halfheartedly glared at Seven.

“I really thought I was going to have a heart attack.” The blond lifted his head to he could take a good look at the hacker, who seemed genuine with his apologizing. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“It’s fun seeing your reactions, Yoosungie~ But I really didn’t expect you to cry.” Seven’s face was marred with a frown and the dull look of worry in his usually golden eyes. “I just… thought it would be the best prank because it was Halloween. I should have known better. I’m sorry.” Yoosung was brought into a tighter hug, the hacker nuzzling against him in an attempt to make him feel better. And it was working. The longer he was in the embrace of the other, the more relaxed Yoosung became. Soon, he was hugging back, pressing himself against Seven as he relaxed and let the last shred of adrenaline leave him boneless and exhausted.

“Just don’t do that again, please?”

“I won’t, I won’t~ I’ll think of better pranks for next Halloween!”

Yoosung glared at his annoying lover and hit his chest. “No more pranks!” Seriously, why was his boyfriend the type of person who would pull practical jokes on their lovers? He huffed, keeping his eyes narrowed as he looked at the redhead. “Eh~? But Yoosungie~” Seven pouted, bringing his puckered lips closer to Yoosung’s face even as he was being pushed away by a giggling Yoosung. The redhead smiled at the sound, hands cupping the blond’s face gently as violet and golden orbs looked at each other.

“I like Yoosungie’s reactions.” The blond’s face slowly turned pink, the blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Seven grinned and reached up, kissing those beautiful rosy cheeks and the pink button nose. He kissed every spot of skin he could before finally giving the other a peck on the lips. And another. And another. One more until Yoosung was giggling again and was initiating kisses, always just a peck and nothing more.

Seven and Yoosung were deep into their kissing game, laughter echoing throughout the bunker, the TV and their snacks completely forgotten. Just as Yoosung leaned in for another kiss, a sudden movement caught his eye. What…?

Another distorted face was staring at him.

The blond screamed, jumping from his position and almost falling off the floor if it weren’t for Seven’s arms around his waist. Yoosung gripped Seven’s shirt before daring another glance behind him, only to see Saeran standing there with a smirk on his face.

“I think I understand why you want to prank him now.” Yoosung felt dread in his stomach as he slumped against Seven’s hold, silently asking the gods if he did something unforgivable to deserve this. He listened to Seven trying to scold Saeran because he just calmed down, only receiving hums and probably shrugs from the aloof Choi. But soon after, he heard his boyfriend laugh, that melodious sound against his ear as Seven told Yoosung how adorable and how puppy-like he was despite being so scared while being patted and nuzzled.

Yoosung didn’t know if his heart was beating fast from the show of affection or from the earlier fright. Either way, he’d never move from Seven’s embrace.

[florial]

[altairs-smores]

Just a Dream

Aaaaaaaand I am back! With angst, of course. How I missed writing angst~ σ(≧ε≦ｏ)

‘The news came like how the rain poured earlier without warning. Zen wished it were merely a bad dream.’

[Also on Ao3]

Preview: The news came like how the rain poured earlier without warning. He was running towards his motorcycle, forcing his body to work with him, to stop trembling and to just listen to him. He ignored his manager’s request for him to take a cab or wait until their driver came, starting his ride and speeding his way towards the hospital. If Yvonne found out he rode without a helmet again, she’d be pissed. Zen had a hard grip on the handles, possibly violating every single traffic rule out there, but he didn’t care. He needed to see her. He needed to see with his own eyes that she was safe.

The news came like how the rain poured earlier without warning. He was running towards his motorcycle, forcing his body to work with him, to stop trembling and to just listen to him. He ignored his manager’s request for him to take a cab or wait until their driver came, starting his ride and speeding his way towards the hospital. If Yvonne found out he rode without a helmet again, she’d be pissed. Zen had a hard grip on the handles, possibly violating every single traffic rule out there, but he didn’t care. He needed to see her. He needed to see with his own eyes that she was safe.

Stumbling through the front doors of the hospital, the albino ignored the looks he was receiving and made a beeline towards the nurse’s desk. “Is… is there an Yvonne Li admitted here?” The nurse looked bewildered, stammering while looking through their database. “Y-yes, sir. She’s at the emergency room.” He left without another glance, apologizing to the people he bumped into and pointedly ignoring and telling fans he’s busy and couldn’t spare a bit of his time. His girlfriend was in danger, he didn’t have the time. Zen arrived at the emergency room, slumping down on one of the chairs. He tried to calm himself down, squeezing his eyes shut as he put his hands together in a prayer. Just yesterday, they were on a date at his secret place, his lovely girlfriend cooking them dinner and taking out the beer despite her love for wine.

He still remembered how warm she was in his arms, talking about their future as they counted the stars. The albino wanted to reach greater heights in the theatre world while the brunette wanted to join the SWAT team. He knew he couldn’t dissuade the woman no matter what he did, so he simply supported her and made her promise to come home safe. They talked about travelling around the world, not as ZEN and his faithful bodyguard, but just as Hyun Ryu and his future wife and mother of his kids, Yvonne Li. That sassy minx of his was unusually quiet and complacent in his arms when she’d usually be making a ruckus, talking about how she probably wouldn’t be a great mother since she lost hers at a young age and her aunts weren’t the nicest in the block.

“Do you think I’ll do well?” He remembered how scared hazel eyes peered at him, how slender fingers fiddled with the beer can, how she worriedly nibbled on her bottom lip. He remembered feeling warm, seeing his love seriously consider about them having a family. He still remember whispering how wonderful she was, that she’d be a great mother, and that he’d be with her every step of the way. Kisses were shared, which turned into caressing and breathless ‘I love you’s and somehow, Zen found himself staring at luscious curves and the devious smirk of his girlfriend atop him. He was like putty in her hands, helplessly making the sounds Yvonne wanted from him. She had always been in control of their love-making, the albino getting his chance was as rare as finding a four leaf clover. But he didn’t mind, he probably never will.

“Sir?” A voice pulled him out of his reverie, eyes focusing on the doctor in front of him. “Sir, are you a relative of the patient?” Zen shook his head, composing himself and just hoped for the best. “I’m her boyfriend. She… she doesn’t have a family.” It was a flurry after that. The doctor said they did everything they could, and now it all depended on the patient if she lived or not. Of course she’ll live, this was Yvonne they were talking about. Sassy, war freak, didn’t back down from any challenge and as spunky as a firework. He waited until they moved her to a private room, on the edge and barely able to sit down without fidgeting. What he saw broke his heart.

There she was, lying on the hospital bed, all battered and bandaged. Her left arm and leg were in casts, bandages on her head and neck, going down beneath the hospital gown. There was a bandage on the right side of her face, a cut on her lip, bandages on her right hand and just what happened to her? The albino pulled a chair and gently held the brunette’s hand, unable to stop the tears from flowing. He refused to believe this was all from an accident. She was careful, all the time. She might have come back with a lot of scars and bruises, but nothing worse. Every second he spent in there, waiting for Yvonne to wake up felt like forever. He fell asleep just like that, hands grasping hers and praying to the gods that she’d wake up soon.

A hand running through his hair pulled him from sleep, a sweet smile greeting him. “Your eyes are red.” She sounded so tired, it was breaking his heart. The albino held her hand, tears reforming in the corner of his eyes but he still tried to smile for her. “My eyes have always been red, babe.” Yvonne smiled and breathlessly said ‘ass,’ wincing a bit as speaking seemed to have brought her pain. Zen was immediately hovering over her, asking if she needed anything and that he’ll call the nurse.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, weakly grasping his hand. “I’m a big, tough girl. I’ll borrow your monster healing abilities and who knows? I’ll probably be up and about in 2-3 days.” They both knew she was lying, that she was far too weak, that not even Zen could recover that fast, but he indulged her. He didn’t say a word of retort and just smiled, holding her hand against his cheek. It felt so hard to breathe, like there was a lump in his throat that just won’t disappear. Still, he kept it all in. His lover was going to be fine. She was strong, stubborn, and she was the woman who kept butting heads with him. And she was looking at him with those tired hazel eyes, cementing his belief that she’ll be fine.

Zen woke up with a start, the beeping of the machine was the only thing heard in the room. It was 30 minutes past 3 in the morning, and Yvonne wasn’t showing any sign of waking up. A dream? He mentally beat himself over it, running a hand through his hair in frustration. What a cruel dream. He couldn’t escape the worry and hope even in his sleep. The albino caressed the hand he was clasping, heaving a sigh and took out a tiny box from his jacket. He had been meaning to pick up the brunette from work, bring her to a restaurant and finally pop the question – but this happened. Red eyes stared at the ring inside it, just a simple silver band with a small diamond. He wanted something grander, to show just how much she meant to her, but he knew Yvonne would kick his ass for ‘wasting’ money on that. She wasn’t the kind of woman who cared about jewelry after all. As long as it was something given from the bottom of the heart, she’ll treasure it – one of the things that made him fall deeper for her.

The actor took the ring and slipped it on her finger, admiring the way it looked. A perfect fit. This wasn’t how he planned it. This wasn’t where he wanted to ask her hand, but it was better than nothing. Yvonne Ryu. It sounded nice, sounded like a dream come true. “Yvonne Ryu.” He said, testing the name on his lips. “Sounds shitty.” He slowly turned to the woman, feeling his heart hammer in his chest as red eyes met hazel. The brunette held the gaze, her expression slowly softening as she smiled. “I like it.”

Zen couldn’t utter any words, his throat closing on him as though he was mute. Tears spilled from his eyes – from worry or relief, it didn’t matter. Because the love of his life was awake and smiling at him and reaching out to wipe his tears and he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. “You’re awake. You’re awake, babe.” He said it, again and again as if it were a mantra. He could hear the woman chuckle weakly, her hand cold against his cheek.

“Who the fuck proposes to a sleeping person? I didn’t know you had that kink.” Expect it from this woman to tease at a time like this, even when her voice was weak and breaking and she looked on the verge of passing out. The actor laughed, shaking his head at his ridiculous lover, and made a motion to leave the room to call the nurse. He was stopped by a tug on his hand, Yvonne shaking her head while mouthing ‘later.’ Zen sat once again and watched his lover, the beeping of the machine the only noise in the comfortable silence of the room.

“Say it again?” Came the whispered request. The albino complied, whispering ‘Yvonne Ryu’ over and over again, as many times as his girlfriend wished. It warmed his heart to know that she wanted this too, that she wanted a future with him. Yet, each passing minute, the brunette looked weaker, her hand losing what little warmth it had.

“Yvonne.” Zen could feel panic rise. Her pulse was weakening, the machine showing more flat lines. He hit the emergency button in the room, praying to the gods for her to be saved. Hazel eyes were slowly closing and yet, she held her smile. Even in her fight with death, she looked like an angel.

“Sounds like a dream… Hyun.”

The line flattened and he was left crying out her name.

[altairs-smores]

Happy Anniversary

To my bbu @when-stars-go-dim and to our first anniversary (it’s a month late smh) as rp partners! Luv u, bbu~ <3

Preview: Vanderwood woke up feeling cold. Saeran’s side of the bed was empty and cold again, the brunet wondering if it was another nightmare or the runt just couldn’t sleep. Yawning and getting out of bed, the brunet started his search for the tomato, making a beeline towards the living room. The soft sounds coming from the television and the huddled figure by the couch said it all – another nightmare.

Vanderwood woke up feeling cold. Saeran’s side of the bed was empty and cold again, the brunet wondering if it was another nightmare or the runt just couldn’t sleep. Yawning and getting out of bed, the brunet started his search for the tomato, making a beeline towards the living room. The soft sounds coming from the television and the huddled figure by the couch said it all – another nightmare.

Saeran would still suffer from these nightmares, even though he’s done with his treatment. The psychiatrist did tell them it would stick around, with everything the runt has been through, but it pained him to see his lover looking so small and vulnerable. Still, the only thing he could do was offer ice cream and his presence – sometimes the latter would be too much so Saeran was left with ice cream.

The former agent prepared two scoops of Saeran’s favorite mint chocolate chip and his own and quietly made his way towards the couch. Wordlessly, with all the months of habit, he placed the bowl on the redhead’s lap and he sat at the other end of the couch, eyes on the cartoons being flashed. It didn’t take long before he felt a warm body pressed against his, and Vanderwood wordlessly wrapped his arms around Saeran, the tuff of red hair snug under his chin.

“I don’t know why you still stick around.” He’d always ask that question, even though he knew what Vanderwood’s reply would be. The redhead snuggled closer – if that was possible – bowl of ice cream on the floor as he hugged the brunet.

“I don’t know either.” It was an accumulation of ‘because I love you’ and ‘because I want to’ and ‘because I choose to,’ but he would always end up answering with an ‘I don’t know.’ Saeran hummed, eyes on the television. The former agent ran his fingers through his lover’s hair, feeling him relax, his heartbeat slow down and his breathing even out. Just when Vanderwood was sure that Saeran was asleep did the clock chime.

12 midnight.

“Happy Anniversary,” Vanderwood whispered and placed a chaste kiss on Saeran’s forehead. The blankets rustled, the tomato encased in them looking up at him with cheeks bright pink.

“I love you.” The redhead whispered back, pulling the brunet down to lay on the couch so they could properly snuggle. The couple fell into a deep sleep, tangled under the sheets, holding each other close with the television filling the quiet with a soft buzz. Even as the sun rose high, they stayed huddled under the covers, words of comfort and assurance on their lips.

[wnq-movies]

The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.

Little Birds (2012), Dir. Elgin James (via wnq-movies)

[vomitingwords]

You wouldn’t break a bird’s wings just to make it stay. That’s the reason why you should let a heart go, when it feels suffocated in your embrace.

ma.c.a // Free Will (via vomitingwords)

[demonicvulcan]

my type of otp: slowly the insults become terms of endearment

[dapperbanana]

Behind every fanfic update, there is a writer being turned into THIS as they await your reactions

[moonblossom]

Never before has a cat gif so succinctly summed up my emotions.

[lumendea]

Absolute truth!

[fireflyfish]

I find this incredibly ironic seeing this on my dash after posting some writing.

[soldmysoultofandoms]

I usually post my updates late at night and the first thing I do is check my email for feedback and it’s so much fun!!!

[writing-prompt-s]

One night you realise you can continue dreams from previous nights. You start building your perfect life but in your obsession you start neglecting reality.

[digivolvin]

u know i’ve expressed my love for fake married/fake dating many, many times but like. is anything better. is anything better on this earth. does any trope or genre truly care for us quite like this one. let us reflect on a few of the gifts that fake married/dating consistently gives us:

character a asks “hey, will you pretend to be my date for a week for [convoluted excuse that could easily be solved without a fake relationship]?” character b, fully convinced of the futility of their DEEP AND UNREQUITED LOVE, figures this’ll be a chance to spend time with them and possibly put their feelings to rest. character b is always wrong & it is always amazing.

having to SHARE A LIVING SPACE FOR ARBITRARY FIC REASONS. having to see eachother in their pajamas first thing in the morning, messy haired, drowsy eyed and soft faced. going from “you can have the bathroom first” to brushing their teeth beside eachother and feeling like this closeness has always existed (at the same time, painfully aware that it won’t always). 

related to the last one – “"practicing”“ their casual touching so that it’s easier when they’re in public. feeling SWOOPS OF ARDOR AND AGONY when they feel the brush of a hand on their neck, or an arm loop around their waist. don’t you love how fake marrieds/dates are always method actors who must FULLY INHABIT their roles. i love it. i live for it. 

bed sharing. :^) we all pretend we’re bigger than this but we are not. 

“kiss me while everyone’s looking.”

the character who wasn’t aware they were in love (maybe always had been) until the fake relationship is in full swing, realizing they have to sort their feelings out before their time together is up. sometimes they succeed and angst is minimal. most of the time they don’t, really.

telling eachother “i love you” in public and meaning it, heart aching over it, but bELIEVING THE OTHER 2 BE ACTING. my soul is still 15, this garbage still gets me. u don’t get pining better than this.

the days leading up to the end of the arrangement where one of them, still confused and muddy about their Feelings and unsure how to break things off, stiffens to the casual, reflexive touching and puts their walls back up. the other one accepts and respects this as the end of their agreement and squashes back down all the hope they ever had, stuffs it next to the heartbreak they’re ignoring deep in their chest. 

when they realize they’re actually fully and enthusiastically mutual about the way they feel and it’s, like, two parts euphoria and one part agony because they just cannOT BELIEVE, the happiness tears them in two. maybe there are weepy or laughing kisses. i don’t know but i’m usually invested like 2000%. i love fake dating/marrieds. 

I LOVE EM.

[altairs-smores]

Not a wasted word. This has been a main point to my literary thinking all my life.

Hunter S. Thompson

[altairs-smores]

Imagine your otp

Person A: "Tell me a secret."

Person B: *thinking* "I've been in love with you for what feels like forever and I really wish you'd realize that."

Person A: "Um...I still sleep with a night light."

[altairs-smores]

The first sentence can’t be written until the final sentence is written.

Joyce Carol Oates

[altairs-smores]

Beware of advice—even this.

Carl Sandburg

[altairs-smores]

Just write every day of your life. Read intensely. Then see what happens. Most of my friends who are put on that diet have very pleasant careers.

Ray Bradbury

[altairs-smores]

I don’t believe in being serious about anything. I think life is too serious to be taken seriously.

Ray Bradburry