#Even though Radiant Dawn is hands down the best one
Text
Okay so the idea of a Kiran and Grima friendship dynamic is honestly one of my favorites in FEH.
Grima as a character was always intriguing to me, but he only became downright fascinating in retrospect of FE: Echoes. Seeing where he came from made his rather two dimensional villainy in Awakening gain a surprising amount of perspective and depth. This is a creature made purely out of a man’s insane hubris and was cursed to walk this earth for thousands of years as a result. He’s essentially Fire Emblem’s version of Frankenstein’s monster. This gave Awakening’s nature vs nurture narrative a significantly more fascinating base to stand on. Made it a bit more character driven, as you can begin to see why Grima holds the perspective that he does. However, there has yet to be a proper scenario in which we get to sit with him and explore the ideas that promises.
Which is exactly why I love the idea of Grima and Kiran. I do not think their dynamic should be dedicated to redeeming Grima via the power of friendship, as that’s more Awakening and Chrom’s brand. But rather, I think Grima getting summoned to Askr would shift the focus of nature vs nurture away from Robin and onto Grima himself. Robin got the chance to question this via their amnesia and now Grima gets to question this via this second start in a world wildly different from the one he walked for lifetimes. And Kiran acts as the off putting yet well meaning embodiment for what that could possibly mean. They are a weird, pitifully weak creature who has somehow succeeded where the scientist that made him and no doubt countless others after him have failed: They have the capacity to control Grima. This automatically means Grima has no intention to let them live for long, but they hardly have the same goals as those ambitious fools. Outside the demands of every conflict the Order finds itself caught up in, Kiran only uses their power to have interesting conversations with weird company. And when I say “use their power” I mean have tea with malicious dragon deity without loosing their head.
It’s hardly enough to get him to stop him from plotting a murder, as it’s only a matter of time before this goes south in his eyes. But it’s… intriguing to see such a comparably unmotivated individual in a position of such extreme power. The piqued curiosity leads to a the formation of a genuine bond as Mr. Wings of Despair Breath of Ruin realizes, “oh shit, I’ve encountered a being I don’t want immediately dead” and has a major existential crisis about it. It’s adjacent to Power and Nyaako from Chainsaw Man, but instead of a cat is Grima is watching this chaotic tactician earnestly fumble their way through this position thrusted upon them. And despite the light years of difference between the both of them, these two come to an understanding of one another that isn’t quite feasible by anyone else.
Meanwhile cut to the outside looking in perspective and this all looks downright insane. Kiran has befriended Fire Emblem satan. Has tea with him sometimes. It’s chill. Don’t worry about it. They say to Alfonse, who is realizing there is something not quite hinged about his tactician. Anna is crying because how the FUCK are they going to house a dragon the size of a mountain range. Sharena has been making cookies to go with the tea to give to the god of ruin this whole time.
#feh Ted talk#Sponsored by the illness#I should note that Awakening is my favorite FE game#baby’s first FE game#changed my brain chemistry#Even though Radiant Dawn is hands down the best one#I’m so so biased
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Childe has always been the tough one between the two of you. how could he not be, with his status as the most battle-hungry Fatui Harbinger? despite countless sighs and lectures from you, he continued to sneak into your home at night, covered in bruises and scratches but smiling as bright as the dawn when you emerged with medical supplies.
so why, why were you the one now confined to your bed from injuries, having gotten thrown across a field by a particularly irritated mitachurl? you hadn't visited for a few days and Foul Legacy was becoming frantic in Childe's head, urging him to check on you only to find you sitting quietly in your bed, several patches of bandages peeking out under your clothes.
Foul Legacy chitters anxiously in Childe's head as he rushes over and takes your hands in his, treating you like glass- which you might as well be, with how delicately and slowly you're moving. you smile and apologize for not coming out to meet him, but Childe simply shakes his head and watches your thumbs gently rub the back of his hands, trying to comfort him even though you're the one in pain.
you must've moved wrong, in that next moment, because suddenly you wince.
something in Foul Legacy cracks and in a blink he's snatched control over Childe's body, transforming before your eyes to tentatively cup your face in his hands.
Foul Legacy's not used to caring for someone- Childe uses him more to slaughter enemies and feel the rush of battle- but he wants to care for you, and does his best to bring you anything you need whether it be food, water, books- and when he's not pampering you he'll snuggle up beside you, purring contently and watching you read. you're taking this rather well for someone who's only seen Foul Legacy a few times, even letting your guard down enough to lay your head on his fluff and fall asleep.
or at least, he think you're letting your guard down. for you, there was no guard to begin with.
if you ever try to get up before you're healed, Foul Legacy freaks out and gently tugs you back into bed, whimpering frantically. he'll rest his head lightly on your stomach- as long as it doesn't hurt much- and rumble quietly until you fall back asleep, your hand buried in his hair. if you simply insist on going outside for some fresh air, he'll carry you! you fit so perfectly in his arms, after all, and there's no point in straining your already injured body.
when you're finally able to walk on your own again, Foul Legacy chirps with such delight you think he might cry. you can't walk very far, but the radiant smile you give him when you stumble into his arms says more than words ever can.
#genshin impact#childe#tartaglia#gi ajax#foul legacy#foul legacy childe#genshin tartaglia#genshin childe#genshin tartagalia#genshin x reader#childe x reader#thought this up because guess whose shoulder and knee are acting up!!#when did i even injure my shoulder.....#i know when i injured my knee but my shoulder???#oh also the reason Foul Legacy knows how to take care of you somewhat is from Childe providing the medical info#you tell him how to do some stuff too but Childe's also very Concerned so he's guiding Foul Legacy through the steps#Childe's internal thoughts are like 'but i'm supposed to be the injured one :((( i don't want YOU to be in pain :((((('#wifi's brainrot#short scenario
538 notes
·
View notes
Text
Well my dearest readers of the Daily Milker it’s that time the time you’ve all been waiting for it’s fresh of the press a page five special for my loyal readers it’s been a very busy week in our small office so much so Dawn Green one of our page five stars offered to play the part of secretary and of course got suitably rewarded just when I thought it might be a slower week than normal Dolly walked through the door explaining it had been raining outside thus the need for a brolly and would I like to take some pics I ended up making Dolly a very happy page five star I would have loved to have given dolly a longer more intense milking but with so many page five stars to milk I’m afraid at times it does all get a bit rushed next was another of our newest page five pretty stars Lady Joanna how could a Milker resist and yes if your wondering readers stockings and matching black panties quite a thruster is our page five star lady Joanna , next was a page five regular and a true beauty and always very very giving and I should blush when she dangled that lovely Pearl necklace and offered to give me one as a thank you but I love my work readers so I didn’t and when it comes to Janablack so lovely to milk an absolute joy , so I’d just finished Janna when Dawn Green announced if your not too tired Chrissy loves world is here for a photo shoot and a milking of course I exclaimed it’s important to not keep our rising stars waiting and dear readers rising was the operative word quite a moaner is Chrissy and giving in every sense of the word , Jodie Hot Sauce came just after I’d waved goodbye to the lovely Chrissy in a lovely see though with a bulge as big and hard as a shotgun ready to go off and as Jodie lifted the dress I sunk to my knees and got busy it was like meeting an old friend as comfy as putting a hand in a loved leather glove Jodie later told me as I did what I do best , just as Jodie left with a radiant smile and panties quickly put back on Miss Dawn Green announced another page five star called I barely had time dear readers to get up off my knees when a very glamorous page five star walked in and announced I’m Monique I’m here to be a page five star at the Daily Milker I’ve read about what you do and I want some of it how could I resist as I said we don’t normally allow smoking in the studio Monique lit a 120 cigarette and said really ? Why don’t you stick to what your good at as I placed my hand on the tops of those fishnet stockings I looked up with an expression of concern do try not to set my hair on fire as this wonderful page five star got closer to climaxing a Monique’s mouth opened in a gasp of ecstasy and a large plume of smoke filled the room followed by a low contented moan truly I had done a wonderful job after a couple of hours break and a light lunch with the wonderful Dawn Green there came a tentative knock on the office door a rather pretty sight met my eyes and a rather shy voice asked is this the Daily Milker my names Mandie and I heard about your quest for page five stars I licked my lips this was going to be fun trying my best to put Mandie at ease I took our potential star to the office explaining the milking process oh I’m not sure came the reply but even as I was explaining it the hem of Mandies frilly dress was rising and getting down to inspect Mandies satin panties cries of oh don’t please don’t stop as I teased our newest page five stars dolly turned to cries please don’t stop oh please oh oh yes a delightful and very fruitful milking was given and enjoyed lastly and not least I gave a somewhat hurried milking to our lovely Barbie and there my dear readers is your naughtiest page five Daily Milker if I get the time a part two bonus episode may come later in the week stay loyal to your fave milking paper and have a great Sunday xxx
56 notes
·
View notes
Note
I loved the new blurbs 🥺. Made me think of how did YN react to listening to Harry's albums. Or do they have a special traditions for the first listen to each album since his 1D days? Was she there for the ONOs?
omg hi sweet angel this has been in my inbox for weeks and as an apology i wrote u a novel i wish i was kidding
the first time happened when you were 17, hanging out in his massive flat he shared with Louis, the two of you looking at each other in disbelief every so often because "not even Gemma has her own flat" when he disappeared for a second, coming back with a mischievous glint in his eye, holding something behind his back.
"Wanna do something illegal?" he asked and your brow crinkled in confusion when he revealed the ipod he was holding, your eyes darting from the ipod to the look on his face, his eyebrows wiggling, a mix of nerves and excitement on his face.
"Oh my god," you said, hopping off the couch when realization dawned on you. "Is the single on there?"
"Yeah, 'm definitely not allowed to do this but 've been dying to know what you think so I don't really give a shit," he says, laughing when you squeal. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the couch, sitting next to you as he untangles the headphones, handing you an earbud. You find yourself too excited to hear the music to pay much attention to the sparks that zing through you when your hands brush. He takes a deep breath, thumb hovering over the play button, eyes rushing over your face before you just about burst.
“Oh my god play it -” you say, reaching for the ipod as he giggles, pressing play and you freeze, as the first few notes start to play, gasping when his verse comes in after Liam’s, hands coming up to cover your mouth before he quickly pulls at your wrists.
“No, don’t - want to see your face” he says, and you can’t look right at him, focusing on the music instead of his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head, feeling a blush take over your face but you’re too into the song to care, feeling like you can’t catch your breath.
It’s good, like one of those pop songs that will never leave your head. It’s bright, it’s fun, and he sounds great on it, they all do. You can’t stop the wide smile growing on your face as you bop along, feeling like you could burst with pride. This isn’t an 80s x factor cover, it’s theirs, it’s his and it’s going to be massive.
The song ends and you look over at him, the tentative look on his face like he doesn’t already know exactly how you feel about it, can’t see it written all over your face.
“You like it?”
“It’s so good. It’s so bloody catchy and you sound amazing.” you say breathlessly and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head a bit as a blush grows on his cheeks. “I think it’s going to be massive.”
“Does it make me a huge dick to say I think so too?”
“Yes” you say without hesitation and he tilts his head back, roaring with laughter and you’re helpless to do anything but join in.
“Play it again,” you say, once your laughter dies down, the two of you wiping tears from your eyes and he smiles at you, big and radiant and presses play.
That’s your best mate and he’s going to be on the bloody radio, he’s going to be bigger than radio, they’re going to be everywhere, the song too catchy to deny them that level of success, of fame. Everything’s going to change but right now, you can’t bring yourself to think about all the negatives, only how exciting it is to watch the person you love most be on the precipice of having all their dreams come true.
It becomes a tradition from then on, no matter where the world takes him, he always finds a way to you a few months before the album comes out, the ipod sometimes just sound files on his phone, cheeky smirk on his face as he asks “Wanna do something illegal?”. Sometimes you’re even let into the recording process, though you don’t care to spend too much time with the 30 year olds he writes songs with. He sits quietly while you listen to the full albums then demands you list your favorites, smile breaking through in 2013 when you immediately list “Happily”, smile transforming his face as he, absolutely chuffed, tells you “I wrote that one” to which you immediately punch him, wondering why he didn’t tell you, what he would’ve done if you said you hated it and he just shrugged and said completely deadpan “Would’ve cried.”
His schedule ramps up in the years that follow, becoming much more draining, the bags under his eyes darker than usual but he still finds time to text you from across the world, “Wanna do something illegal?” and you quickly run into a private study room to answer his facetime as he plays you his favorite tracks, the ones he’s most proud of, his eyes never leaving your face.
In early 2017, he shows up unannounced on your doorstep, nervously spinning his keys in his hand, adjusting the cap on his head as he asks if you want to go for a long drive. You’re about an hour in, the city far in your rearview, talking about everything and nothing when he turns the radio down with shaky hands, clearing his throat before he says:
“Wanna do something illegal?”
“Are you serious?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, heart thundering in your chest. “The first single or -?”
“The whole thing. Need y’ to be one of the first to hear all of it.” he says, looking the most nervous he ever has during one of these. “It’s - ‘s different than the stuff I made with the boys ‘nd I need -”
“Oh my god, just play it!!!” you say.
He refuses to pull off the winding road, no one around for miles, claiming he’s too nervous to sit there and just stare at your reaction so he presses play, eyes constantly darting over to look at you.
You’re overwhelmed, emotions swirling through you as his voice comes through the speakers, sounded stronger than ever before, more emotional, more grown up, more everything. You reach out to clutch his bicep when he starts hitting the high notes at the end of sign of the times, neither of you acknowledging the fact that you don’t let go until several songs later, the look on his face as you rave in your debrief making you feel like you’re on fire.
It’s far different the next time, you’re different, your friendship is different, more distance between you than ever before as you try your best to make yourself forget these feelings you’ve felt for him since you were fifteen because he was engaged now and they would never be reciprocated. Despite your best efforts, you still felt your stomach sink in disappointment when instead of his usual text you get an evite to an album listening party with his family and mates, no longer a tradition the two of you can have solo, not when he’s got a fiance he’s singing about.
You seriously consider skipping out, knowing it will cause you more pain than anything else but even despite all this distance and weirdness between you, you still show up, not ready to give up on tradition even though this is different than usual years, opting to hang around his family, making small talk conversation with him when you cross his path, despite his best efforts to engage you in more. At one point, he lets out a deep huff of frustration and grabs you by the elbow, pulling you off to the far corner of the studio.
“‘M sorry this isn’t - ,” he starts to say before Jeff takes command of the room, inviting everyone to take their seats. You offer him a small smile and take your seat next to Gemma, doing your best to maintain a game face once the album starts to play, trying not to let anyone see how much your heart is breaking, feeling every time his eyes land on your face but not daring to look up, not trusting what you would do if you looked over to see him with an arm around her waist, her hands clasped onto his forearm, massive diamond ring gleaming in the light.
Once the final song plays you’re out of there, saying quick goodbyes as you head out, not able to stay for a debrief, not willing to talk about those songs, how they’re the best he’s ever done, how it doesn’t matter much that you think that, how they’ll never be about you. Feeling like your pathetic twenty year old self again, barely able to see straight as you beeline for the tube, not stopping for a second, completely missing the way his voice called after you. If he can break tradition, so can you. He’s got a room full of people who love him, he doesn’t need you.
A year and a half later, you’re woken up with a soft shake and kisses on your cheek.
“Baby” you hear as you blink yourself away, trying to reorient yourself in the surroundings. “Sorry to wake you, know it’s late -”
“What time is it?” you slur out, still halfway between asleep and awake.
“Half past one,” he says, laughing when you grunt and try to roll over. “I know baby but do y’-”
He takes a deep breath, kissing your cheek as he rubs his arms down your sides, you can feel the mattress sink from where he sits down next to you.
“Wanna do something illegal?” he asks and your eyes shoot open as he huffs a laugh against your skin.
“You’re serious?” you ask, “It’s done?”
He nods, tired eyes gleaming as he stares at you, brushing a knuckle down your cheek.
“Want y’ to be the first to hear it.”
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, holding tight murmuring about how proud you are in his ear before you pull away. He kisses you slowly and after some time you make your way down to the studio, settling in on the couch while he sits behind the mixer turning his chair towards you as he presses play, delighting in your every reaction, particularly when you gasp “I said that to you while you were inside me and you put it in a song?!” At some point he comes over, laying your feet on his lap squeezing every so often, eyes never leaving your face.
“Wrote this one about you years ago,” he murmurs softly, chuckling when you shake your head in disbelief. “You’ve always been on my mind.”
And this time, when the traditional debrief ends with the two of you wrapped up in each other, the album playing in the background, barely making noise over your gasps, well…some traditions were meant to change.
--
You were absolutely at the ONOs, typically you’d only attend the London one but he was about to burst out of his skin with anxiety so you made the trip to NYC, surprising him at his flat, the look on his face making you all instantly forget your jetlag as he wrapped his arms around you, mumbling thank yous into your hair. The two of you prided yourselves on your privacy and subtlety, how you’ve learned to move through public spaces together but these shows were a bit of an exception, the way he kept locking eyes with you, singing certain lyrics to you and you alone though the crowd was none the wiser as he turned back to them, relishing in their adoration, the way they knew every word despite the album coming out only hours before. They felt like the tip of the iceberg, the reactions he was getting unlike anything you've ever seen and it felt like you were back in that london flat in 2011 all over again, watching the love of your life on the precipice of having all of his dreams come true. it felt bigger this time, somehow. never imagining just how much his life and, in turn yours, was going to change over the next year, never knowing how big it could truly get. only knowing you were along for the ride, determined to be by his side no matter what.
--
#okay i know i say i didnt edit this but this time i MEAN IT#this is word vomit in a way its been in my inbox forever i needed to get it out#its also a full novel#sos#something old#sot#if ur still here anon pls let me know what you think ! its alll 4 uuuuu
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Behold Thy Mother
Started off wanting to do this up as a comic, but decided I didn't have the "oomph". Maybe I'll do an illustration later though ;)
Spoilers for Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
I had tried my best to forget all the terrible things that had happened, and the people who had done them. The last twenty years would never truly be forgotten – and how could they be? – but, as much as I could, I pushed them into the back of my mind, tried to bury them under the minutia of now – tending my garden, doing embroidery, quietly helping the poor as I could. I never wanted to look back and see those memories again, and, for the most part, my efforts were successful.
Then this horrid man had to turn up on my doorstep and bring it all back.
Just the sight of him – and remembering all he stood for – made me want to vomit. I nearly slammed the door in his face, but I'd been raised to be civil, no matter what. “I never thought I'd see you again,” I said, fighting the wrinkle that stole over my nose. With his sallow skin, his wicked smile, and his dark hair practically wet with grease, my visitor was even more repulsive than I'd recalled.
“Oh, don't shoo me off just yet, milady,” said Izuka, a strange friendliness in his tone, which I didn't like. “I came to see you, because I've found something. Someone, actually, who you'll be very happy to see, I'll wager!” he added, eagerly rubbing his hands together.
“Who could I possibly want to see?” I laughed, bitterly. My husband was dead – not that I'd want to see him if he weren't. I was estranged from my family. I had no friends. And I certainly didn't want to see anyone who kept company with this wicked madman.
“Your son, perhaps?” said Izuka, licking his thin, dry lips which were curling into a smug smile.
“My son,” I half-laughed. “You haven't found him.”
“Oh but I have!” Izuka cried, puffing out his chest. “He's got that mark on his forehead and everything! He was living on the streets when I found him, but I've cleaned him up a bit now. Thought you might like to educate him in the ways of royalty, before we help him take back the throne that is rightfully his.” He tilted his head expectantly at me, an eager gleam in his one good eye.
Izuka was a lunatic. There was no way he'd just stumbled across my long-lost baby. He'd been taken from me at such a tender age. Who was to say he'd even survived this long? Where could he have gone, with the heritage he had and no mother to protect him?
And yet... if there was but a slight chance... how could I refuse, to at least give this street urchin a passing glance?
“You must be mistaken,” I grunted. “But let's have a look at him.”
Izuka smiled wide, revealing yellowed teeth. “Excellent!” He looked over his shoulder at a shabby carriage that was waiting at the end of my footpath, and waved excitedly. “Come along, then, your highness!” A slender form came out of the carriage and shuffled timidly up the path.
It wasn't my boy, I knew that immediately. Perhaps I'd only known my son as an infant, and only for a very short time, but I would never forget what he looked like. He'd had hair so dark, you'd think it was black at first glance, but it was really green, like mine. This boy had hair like Ashnard's – a deep, handsome blue – and when he got closer, I saw that his eyes were the wrong color too.
What big, sad eyes he had. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, hanging a few feet behind Izuka, looking nervously up at me. “...Mother?” he finally asked, sweetly, softly, as if he hardly dared believe it either.
No, this was not my son... but in a lot of ways, he was just like him. Izuka said he'd lived on the street. He had no family, was apparently an outcast... and I saw it now. He did have a strange marking on his forehead, not quite the same, but very much like my son's. With a marking like that, I had no doubt he'd been an outcast his whole life, persecuted for something that was no fault of his own.
Something made me hurry down the stairs to this boy. I gently rested my hands on his bony young shoulders. “What's your name, child?”
“Pelleas, my lady.”
I wrapped my arms about him. “My poor boy,” I said tenderly. “Oh, my poor Pelleas.... Welcome home.”
#fire emblem#fire emblem radiant dawn#fe10#tellius#izuka#almedha#pelleas#soren#laguz#branded#fanfic#fanfiction
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Which Laguz go “oh SHIT” vs “:) !” When they discover their human/branded lover is pregnant 😈
Technically this is further down in my queue but I need some lighter headcanon type stuff between actual fics lol so lets go through the list~
Again, I'm doing just dudes for now, but being pretty thorough- and adding in the branded fellas too because fuck it.
Oh also this is all post-canon, so everyone's thoughts on Beorc and Branded and such are at that stage
Laguz guys (FE 9/10) x AFAB Reader
Pregnancy headcanons - semi-spicy
Mordecai - Absolutely glowing with pride and excitement; he does of course have some understanding of how difficult life will be for the child- progress has been made, but society doesn't change over night. But he's also had enough uplifting and fulfilling relationships with Beorc like Ike and others that he has hope for the future, and sees his child with you as a sign of that hope. He's not incredibly knowledgeable about taking care of you during the pregnancy, but he'll pick up on your needs over time and spends the months happily doting on and protecting you.
Muarim - His first reaction is more of a nervous, panicky excitement. On the one hand, there's the rush of knowing that you're carrying his cub. On the other hand, while things are better now than in his youth, Muarim has truly seen the depths of cruelty that you and his child could face. He immediately becomes intensely protective of you, hovering near at all times and caring for you constantly- frankly, he'd carry you everywhere instead of letting you walk if he had his way. Ultimately though, he'll be realistic and measured about it all, being sure to communicate his fears but reassuring you that he's willing to face it all to protect the child with you.
Also Tormod is SO EXCITED to be a "big brother" and so thrilled to see Muarim have this new happiness in his life
Caineghis - He's well aware of the challenges you'll face together- hell, it wasn't easy to tactfully quell his subjects' discontent when he took a Beorc mate to begin with. But to him, beginning a family with you is one more way he seeks to move forward in the world and to show that the two races are meant to coexist. He's wonderfully caring and nurturing during the pregnancy too, doting on you enough that you feel safe and comfortable, but careful not to smother you either. You're his Queen, after all- you're strong enough to handle this, especially with his support.
Naesala - Boy this is a tricky one lol. It's definitely something that catches him off guard, and his first reaction is somewhat panicked, though he does well to conceal it. More than anything, he worries about how the less savory things he's had to do as King will effect you and the child. Truly, he never intended to sire any children, never even considering it until he took you as his mate. But with time, he's shocked to find that he actually finds the idea somewhat pleasant. He does his best to be casual about it all, but you know him well enough to notice the new way his eyes linger on you now and the gentle way he holds you.
Nasir - While he takes the news seriously and does feel the weight of this new responsibility in his heart, he is nonetheless optimistic and joyful. Unity between Beorc and Laguz has long been a dream of his, and what better way than to nurture this new life drawn from both races? Aside from which, by the epilogue of Radiant Dawn, he's a great-grandfather, so raising children is nothing new to him- he's an excellent father, calmly supportive, and protective but reasonable. That said, the way dragon Laguz age is so alien to a Beorc that this odd family structure is more or less to be expected.
Ranulf - He's excited, but anxious about it to be sure. Frankly, he probably noticed something different about your scent pretty early on and started getting antsy then and there. He's a realistic sort, so he's potently aware of how things could go wrong- but with your reassurance, and given time to sit with the idea, his usual enthusiasm eventually wins out. He's not sure what Beorc pregnancy is like, so he's definitely going to need some guidance, but he's sweetly attentive and makes it abundantly clear that he'd do anything for you and the child.
Reyson - Arguably one of the most anxious of the lot; with the herons' intuition, he's able to tell you're pregnant almost immediately, so he may actually be the one to tell you. He's clearly nervous at first, between his own trauma and the unpredictable nature of the Branded. Ultimately, through the assurance of having you at his side and the knowledge that, through your union, his family and his people will be remembered, he does come around to happily anticipating the birth of his child. He's excellent at pregnancy care, too- he can sense whenever something seems "off," and his songs are incredibly soothing.
Skrimir - He is absolutely full of love and joy at the news- anyone else's opinions be damned. He'll personally challenge anyone who gives you any trouble to a fight, and show them that he will tolerate no insult to his mate, especially now that they carry his child. He'll excitedly brag about you and the great news to anyone who will listen, and even though he knows very little about pregnancy or child care, he's certainly not lacking in enthusiasm. He may need a good deal of help understanding the more serious side of all of this, but it's hard not to get caught up in his infectious excitement.
Tibarn - I genuinely don't think a single soul would have the guts or the audacity to give him or his mate any trouble about their Branded child. All it would take would be one person getting a little shady about the whole matter for Tibarn to have claws out, slowly and firmly informing the poor sod that their life is in danger if they don't learn to watch their tongue. Overall, he's thrilled with the news, becoming a bit territorial and very affectionate during the pregnancy (honestly he's even the type to enjoy pregnancy sex imo). While he does have some concerns about not knowing how to care for a wing-less child, he's certain you two can manage it together.
Ulki - Ever the serious type, he'd want to have a long conversation about this first and foremost. He truly doesn't know what to expect, and that's fairly nerve-wracking for him, but with your reassurance, he'll commit himself fully to caring for you and his child. The whole experience brings out a surprisingly nurturing (if still a bit on-edge) side of him. With time, his superior hearing will even make it so he can hear the baby moving later on in the pregnancy. This is a blessing and a curse- on the one hand, he's filled with affection at the ability to connect with his unborn child, yet on the other, he keeps waking you up to ask you if you're sure you feel okay because he knows he heard something.
Janaff - His immediate reaction is untethered joy, even lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, not even realizing that he's flown you two a few feet up off the ground. He quickly remembers to be gentler with you, of course, especially given he's not sure how delicate one needs to be with a pregnant Beorc. If you bring it up, he'll make it known that he is fully aware of the challenges of raising a Branded child, but he'll smile sweetly at you and remind you that you both have dealt with others' garbage opinions of your relationship before- together, you can handle this.
Volug - Because the Hatari have no pre-existing prejudice toward Branded, his only concerns are of the usual "oh shit I'm going to be a dad" sort. Still, with Nailah's support and you by his side, he'll be a steady and reliable safe haven for his new family. While he has redoubled his efforts to learn Tellius' language now that he has you, he is still a man of few words, so he'll express his affection by closely guarding you, holding you close to him as often as he can. He's another one who would catch the change in your scent early, so this new, nearly obsessive need to touch and be close to you may give you pause at first.
Branded (spoilers ig, but dude if you don't know by now, c'mon)
Soren - Oh he's going to panic. His trauma is going to manifest in a bad way here- until Greil, he had no contact whatsoever with any positive parental figure, and his own Brand has caused him nothing but suffering. But when Soren finally lets someone into his heart, his devotion is intensely deep and lasting, so given time to calm himself and work through the sudden rush of thoughts and feelings, he'll hold you close, trembling as he quietly asks for you to just give him time and he'll do his best for you and the child. With any luck, the brand won't manifest on the child, and they can live a normal and happy life- either way, Soren will devote himself as fiercely to you both as he always has to Ike.
Stefan - He may be the only case here where he actually truly hopes that the brand will manifest. Given the community of Branded that he's fostered over time, he's thrilled to share the news that you're carrying a symbol of the next generation of his people. He positively glows with pride, though he's subdued in how he expresses it aloud. Stefan is actually another who I think would be into pregnancy sex- perhaps something about you carrying his child has called to his Laguz ancestry in some way.
Zelgius - Similarly to Soren, he's going to have a lot of complex feelings about this- yet ultimately, his affection for you and the hope for the future that this child represents will win out. Since the failure of Sephiran's plan, he's felt adrift in the world, with only his connection to you to keep him going. The realization that you're pregnant with his child fills his heart with something new, and a sort of warmth he'd left behind long ago begins to grow within him. He's not certain how well he'll do as a father, but it's clear that he'd do any and everything to protect you both.
#fire emblem#fire emblem headcanons#fire emblem x reader#feh#fire emblem 9/10#path of radiance#radiant dawn#laguz#pregnancy tw#mordecai#muarim#naesala#caineghis#tibarn#ulki#janaff#skrimir#reyson#ranulf#nasir#volug#soren#stefan#zelgius
114 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! If you’re still taking angsty requests, can you write number 6, please? Thanks!
6. "Hey it's me. You're safe."
this is also for @elocinn who requested this prompt too.
hold me 'til the sun burns out (hold me 'til the sky is clear)
AO3
The scout returned at dawn on the third day.
Adrien–who had not slept or even so much as looked at his bed in these three days– was the first to meet him in the empty courtyard.
“What news?” He demanded before the man could even get the chance to dismount from his horse. From the way the scout recoiled at the force behind his words, Adrien was certain he looked a dreadful sight. Not that he cared.
Anxiety churned in his gut as he waited for an answer, watching as the knight thought about the words to use. Eventually, just as the silence was becoming unbearable, he spoke.
“It is as you feared, Your Highness,” his expression was grave. “The trail went cold in Lyon, though there was no sign of them anywhere in the city, I was able to find out that they had passed through with half a dozen men only yesterday.”
Adrien’s blood ran cold. “And did they…have her with them?”
“She was not seen. But the locals claim that they were travelling with a caravan. They can’t have gone far now.”
“The chateau.” Adrien said slowly. “The old one that hasn’t been used in decades. They must have taken her there.”
“That is what I believe, yes. If these people are who we think they are, their demands will surely be made soon.”
“They won’t get a chance to make demands,” Adrien muttered darkly. Louder, he said “I’m going. Tell the stableboy to prepare my horse.” Turning to go back into the castle, he came face to face with his father.
Father quirked an eyebrow, seeming almost amused, but his eyes were sharp. “You are not going anywhere.”
*
It was nightfall when Adrien left.
He’d wasted precious hours arguing with father, demanding that he be able to go, and had been locked in his chambers for his efforts.
“This is for the best, son,” father had said from the other side of the door. “Our best soldiers are setting out in the morning but you must stay here where it is safe.”
Adrien had said something very rude in response.
Still, the confinement had given him time to think and come up with a plan, so it was close to midnight when he donned his Chat Noir mask and escaped out of his window.
Father might have been content to drag his feet, but Marinette had been gone for three days already and for Adrien, that was three days too many. Every moment that passed without seeing her felt like a physical pain in his heart and he couldn’t bear to imagine the ordeals she was going through.
During the day, he could keep those thoughts at bay, but he feared sleeping, feared the images of Marinette his mind might conjure, of her suffering at the hands of her captors, at her tears, and anger at him for not coming for her sooner.
He couldn’t fail her. He would not.
*
Their wedding had been a simple affair. Their official state marriage was not for another four months, but they had been unable to wait, and so they had wed.
It had been a secret affair conducted in the dead of night inside the castle’s chapel with only the priest as their witness. Even his father did not know of it.
Marinette had worn a simple gown and with her hair flowing down her back, flowers woven into the dark tresses, she had looked radiant as he took her hand and pledged himself to her. Her blue eyes had seemed to glimmer in the candlelight as she said the words that would make her his wife, and Adrien had been unable to do anything but stare at her in a daze.
In the days that followed, gossip had swirled around them as courtiers and nobles watched their increasing amount of ‘daily walks’ lasting many hours, saw their giggling conversations and wandering hands at dinner.
They had toyed with the idea of making an announcement about their marriage, to at least alleviate the scrutiny that they were under, but now, as Adrien raced through forests and winding country roads, he was fiercely glad that they had kept their secret.
Marinette–his wife– was still alive only because of this secret, he was sure of it.
They had known for months about the opposition to his engagement, resentful nobles inciting rebellion against the foreign marriage alliance, and Marinette’s kidnapping was a consequence that they should have seen coming. Father had agreed, believing that the rebels would demand the alliance be dissolved in exchange for the safe return of Princess Marinette.
She was their only bargaining chip, and Adrien was sure that if they knew about his marriage, the rebels would have no qualms about making him a widower as long as it suited their needs.
Adrien rode faster.
*
The rebels folded easily. It was a shame, Adrien thought, as he stepped over the crumpled body of one of the sentries. He’d been itching for a real fight, but though the chateau was heavily guarded, the men had grown lax at their posts, not expecting an ambush when they had made it this far unchallenged.
Adrien was quick to incapacitate them, feeling a dark thrill every time their eyes widened in fear at the sight of him, too afraid to say his name out loud or even sound the alarm.
Chat Noir.
People would think twice before attempting to abduct Marinette again. When there was only one guard left, he grabbed hold of the man, holding a knife to his throat and grinning as the man shook in terror before he leaned in close to whisper in his ear:
“Let it be known that the Princess Marinette is under Chat Noir’s protection.”
*
Adrien kicked the door open with a bang. The sound echoed loudly in the tiny makeshift prison but he barely heard it, stepping into the room and squinting in the dim light. There was only one window in the room, high up near the ceiling with bars fitted crudely in them that served only to block out more light.
“Marinette?” He called
A whimper came from the corner. Glancing over, he finally caught sight of her, his heart leaping into his throat. Marinette’s face was dusty, her hair was a tangled mess around her face, and there was a dark bruise high on her cheek. Her pink dress was covered in grime, the hem torn haphazardly and he saw with a start that she’d wrapped her hand with the fabric as if she’d been injured. But at the moment, Adrien didn’t care about any of that. She was alive, and she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
Stepping forward, Adrien paused when she scrambled backwards away from him, her blue eyes wide with panic. “Mari–”
She didn’t recognise him. Of course not.
Falling to his knees in front of her, Adrien ripped off his mask, reaching out for her. “Darling, it’s me. You’re safe.”
For a long moment, she simply regarded him in stunned silence, as though she couldn’t quite believe that he was there. And then…she fell into his arms, great wracking sobs escaping from her mouth. Adrien tightened his arms around her, holding her close, stroking her hair gently as she sobbed on him. Pressing a kiss to her head, he simply rocked her back and forth, murmuring reassurances over and over again. “I’m here, my love, I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”
Eventually, when her sobs subsided, Marinette pulled away to look at him once more, her eyes roving over his face as if she was trying to memorise his every feature. Gently, Adrien cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb and wiping away her tears. Her eyes closed when he kissed her on the forehead, before looking down at her with a smile.
“Let’s get out of here.”
#banana writes 🍌#as usual...this got away from me#what can i say? at least im consistent#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fanfic#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#my writing#when will i stop writing historical aus#(never)
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
3, 6, 31!
3. What titles have you played?
Finished: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 16
Started but haven't finished: 6, 14, 15
I feel guilty for not having finished Shadows of Valentia, because it's genuinely excellent, and probably the second-best game released since Tellius. However, I remember getting stuck on one of those frustrating missions with teleporting long-range wizards and just getting too fed up to continue.
I haven't finished Binding Blade mostly due to laziness. I haven't finished Fates because its writing was just too awful for me to put up with it any more, and I made the deliberate choice to stop subjecting myself to more of it. Of the FE games I have played, Fates is the only one that I outright think is a bad game.
6. Who’s your favorite lord/protagonist?
Tricky one. I remember at the time I played Tellius I felt Ike was on the dull side, but after the next six games to follow I find myself really missing him - in particular his character growth was just really well-handled, especially if you try to compare him to Chrom or someone. That said, I also have a fondness for all three Elibe lords (yes, even Eliwood, I make no apologies), for Micaiah, and for Alm and Celica. The best lord in Awakening is Lucina, though I don't know if she counts as a protagonist.
I think I'll say Ike, since he does manage to keep growing on me, with a second place finish for Celica, but perhaps that's mainly because I like sincere religious people.
31. Some moments of Fire Emblem you keep thinking of?
These are going to be really arbitrary, and just moments that lodged in my head.
From FE7 (Blazing Sword), I'm going to nominate two. Firstly, the conversation between Lyn and Hector on the pirate ship. That always stayed with me as a fantastic moment of characterisation for both of them, showcasing both Lyn's pride and Hector's ability to be surprisingly aware and empathetic.
Also, from the final battle: The nomads of plains do not abandon their fellow tribespeople. Eliwood and Hector are my dear friends. Their sorrow is my sorrow. Their anger is my anger! Nergal! In my friends' names, I will cut you down!
As far as pre-battle speeches go, it has a really nice cadence to it, and while the message is generic "I fight for my friends" Fire Emblem stuff, I feel like the game really earned it by putting the three protagonists and their evolving friendship at the centre.
From FE10 (Radiant Dawn), I'll also pick two. Firstly, the mission in part one where the Black Knight appears to defend Micaiah. Playing Path of Radiance first really conditions you to feel this sense of terror whenever the Black Knight appears, because he's indestructible and he's this mysterious enemy you cannot defeat. For his first appearance in the sequel to be to aid you, for reasons as inscrutable as ever, is bound to make the player nervous and suspicious, and I enjoy the ambivalence it creates.
Secondly, the river crossing missions. You know why. I know lots of people hate playing the Dawn Brigade, but I unironically love the mission where you play the Dawn Brigade and have to try to hold off for the Greil Mercenaries - for this one moment you get to experience (not just witness, experience!) what it's like to be on the other side, and man, is it terrifying.
From FE16 (Three Houses), I'm going to pick a weird one. In the Blue Lions ending cinematic, after Dimitri is forced to kill Edelgard and he and Byleth leave... the door opens, Byleth steps into the light, and then turns to see Dimitri hesitating. Dimitri looks away from the light and moves to look backwards, but Byleth catches Dimitri's hand and looks downwards, almost (but not quite) shaking his head. A moment of understanding passes between the two men, and Dimitri follows Byleth out into the light, where they face the cheers of their victorious army.
It's a small moment, but I appreciate just how much it does without any dialogue, with only very small, subtle expressions, particularly from the emotionless Byleth. It's a moment of letting go - Dimitri's complex feelings for Edelgard, from friendship to sympathy to murderous hatred, are all dissipating. You can almost hear Byleth whispering, "It's done. Let's go."
And, though this might sound odd, it stands out to me because in my opinion the scene just genuinely doesn't work with a female Byleth, particularly given, as far as I can tell, the popularity of romantic f!Byleth/Dimitri ships. So much of Dimitri's former life was consumed by his obsession with a particular woman, so going the otome route with Dimitri and redeeming him via the love of another woman, a 'light' woman to contrast with Edelgard the 'dark' woman, doesn't feel like the clean break that scene should be. I'd rather cut out any such implication and have Byleth and Dimitri's relationship be clearly Platonic - no longer one of teacher and student, certainly, but perhaps one of equals and allies, of people who've achieved a kind of brotherhood through shared suffering. They've both, after all, lost close family members to Edelgard's ambition.
I don't know. I just liked that moment - Byleth catching Dimitri's hand, as if to say, "Let go."
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
15 16 and 21 have fun!! <3
Thank you~
15. What are your favorite musical tracks?
Oh I have way too many. I guess I'll pick one from each game I played.
Sacred Stones - Comrades (It's a very catchy tune that really gets you excited for the battles)
Path of Radiance - Power-hungry fool (yes, Oliver's theme. Despite me hating his guts, his theme is very funky and I love the hapsichord)
Radiant Dawn - On Glory's Wings (One of the best parts of the game with one of the best battle themes. So freaking catchy you can't help but get into it. Honorable mention to "The Devoted")
Awakening - Chaos (It's a great villain battle track. Makes you feel you are going up against things you can't quite understand or hope to overcome easily)
Fates - You of the Light (Hoshido bias. Also Okami vibes. This theme really makes the Hoshidans feels powerful as you fight them. Honorable mention to Alight of course, for the same reasons.)
Echoes - Sacrifice and the Saint (As much as Echoes itself was meh to me, the music was stunning. Loved the parts where the strings come in. Very "medievalish" sounding)
Three Houses - Chasing Daybreak (There is many songs I love in this game, but this one always made me enjoy each battle, no matter how many times I had already done it.)
Heroes - Howling Gears (Love the way the synth is made to sound so epic)
16. What's your favorite world/setting?
Tellius. Hands down. I love the world building for all the nations and the many varied Laguz tribes. There is a lot I could go into, but suffice to say, I wouldn't mind if we got another game in that verse (though hopefully not done similar to Three Houses...)
21. Any rarepairs/crack ships you have?
Doesn't really fit the crack ship definition since it's perfectly possible via in-game mechanics, but I feel not many people care for LorenzxLeonie. I really love their supports and ending together. They have a great dynamic and it makes me appreciate each character even more.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Faustsele Part 3: orion
orion (music video)
The next Faustsele song is “orion” and this is where Josele’s feelings start turning romantic. There's a growing sense of intimacy in this song, although it can still be read platonically. There is also a dream-like quality to the instrumental component, capturing the light but fantastical feeling of falling in love.
Your fingers, your chest, your eyes;
They're so radiant, some nights they dizzy me a little
This is Josele noting Morgen and Nacht’s features because she’s spent years holding their hands, being hugged to their chests, and staring into their eyes. She’s memorized everything about the twins. Now when she thinks about those simple but intimate moments, in relation to those body parts, she gets a little dizzy from her blooming feelings of love.
It suddenly came falling upon me, all too warm;
I gulped down a rainbow-color star
Like a popping spark, you firmly confounded me,
And that taught me how I could walk again...
Josele’s revelation of her romantic feelings for Nacht and Morgen are sudden to her. But the feeling fills her with warmth and it’s beautiful like the image of “a rainbow-color star.” It’s confusing too, and she kind of has to relearn how she sees the twins in this new light. She happily accepts it all though. Things don’t actually change that much between Josele and the Fausts.
Even in my dreams, I'm not skilled, not in a good state
"Don't worry about it" - the things I lamented, the things I cried over
Pulling on frayed sleeve threads, we tried making a constellation,
With each other's fingers as stars
It was terrible, nonsense, so we laughed together;
As long as you were there with me, it's all fine...
This is how Josele is. She will have moments when she voices negativity but quickly pushes those thoughts away with hope. She is human and thus still has her insecurities. But she doesn’t hide that negativity. She still laments and cries but she doesn’t let herself stay worried about them. And if she’s not at her best, then she can improve. All the while, she is with the twins, able to easily laugh alongside them about silly things.
God, please, please - let me hear that voice,
If only just for a second...
So that we never have to part again,
I want you and I, like this constellation...
To be tied together...
This version of the chorus is a prayer from Josele. After years with the Fausts, Josele doesn’t want to let them go. She’s stubbornly devoted and in love with them. She wants to have that bond, hear their voices, hold their hands. For as long as possible. The connection between stars making constellations is intangible and in reality, the stars are far apart, but from the view on earth, they’re close together and can create something pretty. That’s kind of how Josele feels about the Fausts. Even though they live in separate classes and didn’t have a lot in common in the beginning, they did meet and bond. She did fall in love with them and it’s a thing of beauty to her.
Now, no matter what difficulties arise,
I can still try to love...
But too weakly linked, across the dawn,
They simply watched...
Those blue eyes...
Here we get Josele’s thoughts, that she believes hope and love can overcome whatever troubles she faces. It’s also there that we get a mention of blue eyes. The English translation that’s provided implies the blue eyes to be the ones watching something else but I looked at the Japanese and I read it more as the speaker of the song staring into blue eyes. Either way it works, considering Nacht and Morgen have blue eyes.
One of my favorite parts of “orion” is the star imagery. I associate Josele with stars so it makes it feel more appropriate for the song to be linked to her character. Josele is a star, once alone, now forming a constellation with two people she’s fallen in love with. I simply find the song to be dreamy and romantic, a perfect summary of Josele’s feelings.
..........
Intro | Previous | Next
#josele canty#black clover oc#faustsele#morgen faust#nacht faust#the music of faustsele#soda asides#soda's ocs
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
@untowonder asked:
Sometimes the Queen missed the cacophonous sounds of NRC's halls, the students coming and going, first-years moving in a rush, second and third taking their time, having found their own groove. Their own pace. Were she not so tied to her Queendom, to Looking Glass, she might have stayed amongst those first-years now second-years. Might have remained a single chess piece amongst card soldiers. Of course, such a fate was ought to reach now, perhaps forever.
Though saddened, at least she could linger like this, using one of the mirror frames to lean out like a portrait ghost, offering smiles and soft encouragements to the curious few who paused to look upon her. A queen all dressed in black like a mourner, wearing a crown of black diamonds and carved onyx.
Using one of the mirror frames to lean out like a portrait ghost, the queen all dressed in black like a mourner, wearing a crown of black diamonds and carved onyx, lingered. She waited patiently in the midst of one of the halls, hands resting upon the frame, long locks of white platinum falling down her shoulders and nearly pooling upon the ground. Before her first years rushed by, chatting loudly, and making wild gestures, whilst second and third years took their time, with no need to rush to get to class. Among the crowd she could see old friends, former companions. Those from her old dorm, those she had met in passing, those she might have loved, had love been meant for the Queen of Looking Glass.
By luck or good fortune among those who passed by was none other than Octavinelle's vice, a little taller than she recalled. Perhaps a little broader. It had been a year, after all, since she had left NRC, and returned once more to her Looking Glass Queendom. Was he still studious as ever? Was he still manipulative and cruel, though clumsy in comparison to Red Queen? Some day she might have to ask, to take a moment between now and then to seek him out through a mirror or dream. Some day but not today. No, today she had something else in mind.
It was sudden and swift, her hand rising from the frame, grasping onto Jade's sleeve and tugging him rather suddenly, rather sharply to her person. How swiftly she reached out once more, to draw him in for a kiss. To press her lips, soft as velvet, pink as the dawn, against his own, whilst her hands found purchase upon the lapels of his jacket, sure to mess his pristine attire.
The sun is slowly disappearing behind the distant mountains, casting an orange glow over the twisted world like a dream half-remembered. Jade had always been interested in these things: how the sun and moon switch places at different times during different seasons of the year, how the world turns on its axis, how the stars appear and disappear in the sky. Less than a year ago, he had someone to watch them with, someone who was content sitting quietly next to him, listening to his long rants of scientific discovery that no one else takes an interest in, asking questions whenever something appears confusing. He would answer her in ways he knew best. But at some point, he realised that he’d gotten used to her presence there.
(Down the long alleyways of Night Raven College, he could see her skipping happily down the corridor, so excitedly that it seemed like she would fall. “Becareful, Marianne. Lest you hurt yourself.” He had said with a pensive frown, voice laced with concern. It’s the happiest moment he’d seen her since they met, and yet something does not feel right.
She’d stopped in her footfalls to turn around, and there it was: the brightest smile he’d ever remembered in memory on her lips. A wave of hurt washes through his chest. Something tells him that he was not the reason behind that sweet, radiant, and bright smile. And for that, comes the first and last memories he possess of guilt, guilt for not feeling happy for her when she is truly happy.
“Marianne, did something pleasant happen?” He asks, failing to include enthusiasm, even faked, into his voice. Thankfully, she did not seem to notice it.
“I've spent much too much time away from my duties as a Queen, and now I must return to my Queendom. And you, my fair weather friend, should focus on your schooling, your future.” Came her answer. Jade thought she must have noticed, in some way, that he did not seem happy about it. He couldn’t be sure. But surely, a moment later, she adds, “But don’t be sad. I shan't say goodbye, for I will see you on the morrow!” )
He had not seen her since that day. When she left she’d taken something else with her, something from him, and it leaves Jade trapped in a limbo-like state, a harrowing feeling digging away at his heart that could not be satiable. It was not a lust for chaos, or anger, or envy--he could not describe it. He did not understand it. And so, he had not shared it with anyone else except for a few pages scribbled into his diary.
Something interferes and his train of thoughts shatters into a thousand irreparable pieces. Jade tastes the familiar sensation of something soft on his lips, and hands, smaller than anyone else he knew, gripping his lapels. Something -or someone- had taken him by surprise, which is rare, both to catch him deep in his thoughts so that his guard is down, and being able to utilize the element of surprise on someone who never even sleeps with both his eyes closed.
❝Marianne?❞ He thought that name had been an echo emitted from his own mind, but he’d blurted it out before realization dawn on him.
There is a loud, embarrassing clatter when his books hit the ground. He had to free his hands to hold her in his grasp. To make sure she’s real. It’s been so long. A quiet, tiny voice cried from the back of his mind. She looks different, but he could recognise her face anywhere, especially up close. Past her shoulders he could see their reflection in the mirror, or more accurately, just hers. Mer like him who had no souls tend to not show up in mirrors without using some sort of spell. All he saw was a translucent Marianne clinging to thin air, a reflection of the truth that he was not meant to exist in her world, and she in his.
❝Is this what you meant by on the morrow, after all?❞ The words were said hastily in a voice that’s pained and curt. Jade feels the corner of his eyes sting, if that was even possible for mer. Mers don’t cry; but whether it’s because the oceans tend to wash away their tears before they could be realised, or because they has no soul and no heart, was a mystery that had been unsolved for centuries.
There is a seamlessly endless second as he held her and looked into her eyes, before he realised, that back then it was not happiness he’d seen on her. The smile was a smile but at its core it was not born out of genuine joy. How could he, a master artist of deception, failed to recognise it?
❝... You tricked me.❞ He says, with a half-smile on his face. He’d known victory all his life and any defeat never felt truly like a crushing defeat. This is his first. But therein lies the charm of having a queen sweeping you off your feet when she wasn’t ever trying.
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Cowboy and the Barefoot Dancer/Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x Reader
Synopsis: You find yourself alone in the middle of a dance floor at a wedding you shouldn’t have gone to in the first place. Good thing there’s a handsome cowboy feeling the same way.
Warnings: None. Pure fluffy goodness!
Author’s note: Long time no see my darlings! Life has been quite a handful, but I’m glad to be going through a wonderful time of both creativity and productivity. Much of my inspiration comes from music, so this one’s inspired by Ross Ellis’ “Barefoot Dancer”. I hope to write more soon, but thank you so so much for the continued support!! ❤️
Word count: 833
I’m only here for the whiskey, he thought, right?
Jack Daniels sat sprawled at a dimly lit corner table where the purple disco lights could not reach him. His large left hand mindlessly fiddled with a loose white flower petal that fell from the large centerpiece adorning the circular table. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, virtually untouched.
His real interest lay in the dance floor, nearly empty at this time of night. Speckled with a few lingering guests, his eyes followed the radiant woman in the middle of the dance floor. It was an indisputable fact that the barefoot dancer looked gorgeous in the long black dress. The silk hugged her curves just right and moved with her body as she bounced to the music. Her loose curled hair swinging to and fro and her red lips singing along to every pop song. She was quite a vision.
In any other instance, Jack would have sweet talked himself to her side during the cocktail hour and have her sipping champagne in his apartment before the first dance started. But he noticed her lonely smile as the bride walked down the aisle and the way her eyes teared up ever so slightly when the bride’s bouquet missed her by two women. He knew she’d need more than a no-strings-attached one night stand; something he couldn’t provide right now. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from staring, even though he should have left the ballroom hours ago.
His finger dropped the petal and picked up the whiskey. Taking a slow sip, Jack decided he should leave. He couldn’t be the strong and steady that beautiful, lonely woman required, so what was the point of lingering? He set the now empty glass down and picked up the tux jacket he had tossed on the chair earlier. Just as he was about to leave, the upbeat music suddenly turned slow. An outdated ballad blasted from the speakers as the two final couples on the dance floor embraced. The barefoot dancer was left standing alone in the middle of the floor, the earlier bounce and sparkle gone. The sight hurt Jack more than he’d care to admit.
In that moment, heart overtook mind. Instead of going to the exit, Jack found himself at the edge of the dance floor, now shamelessly staring into your eyes. You had noticed the cowboy just after the bride had walked down the aisle. It was around the same time it had dawned on you that going to a co-worker’s wedding a week after you called off your engagement was really not the best idea. Holding back tears throughout the ceremony, the thought of the brooding cowboy across the aisle kept you from a complete meltdown. Now here you stand, a little drunk and barefoot in the middle of an empty dance floor while a handful of happy couples slow dance… just what you needed to finish off this terrible day. As you move to leave for good, you spot his deep hazelnut eyes at the edge of the dance floor. The cowboy was looking right at you with pure, unadulterated longing.
You found each other just as another outdated ballad started blasting through the speakers. It’s the type of song that screams “party’s over, please leave”. Still, it only encouraged Jack more as he saw the barefoot dancer up close, your deep red lips and curled hair looking even more luscious now.
“May I have this dance?”
You smiled at his deep, husky voice and nodded, no other words needed. Your bright, genuine smile ignited something in him that had been gone for far too long. He wrapped his sturdy arms around you and his large hands fell in the small of your back. You wrapped yours around his neck and found your head naturally leaning on his chest, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. The effect this cowboy had on you was unimaginable, you closed your eyes and just swayed in perfect silence.
“I couldn’t help but notice your lonely smile during the ceremony,” he whispered thoughtlessly, “And I really, really don’t mean to intrude, you don’t owe me anything, darling. I just wanted to let you know that you’ll find your way. Lonely only lasts a while.”
You leaned closer. Somehow the cowboy knew exactly what to say. Somehow the barefoot dancer knew exactly how to get those words out of him, the words he also had to hear.
Jack gave you his coat and you draped it over your exposed shoulders. He carefully buckled your delicate heels, despite the trace of whiskey in his breath. Arm in arm, you strolled out of the now empty ballroom in your own little bubble of bliss. Laughing about nothing in particular and reveling in the simplicity of a perfect stranger.
And just like that, the cowboy and the barefoot dancer held each other since the golden morning light. The loneliness was forgotten, at least for a twilight.
#jack whiskey daniels#jack daniels#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#jack Daniels x reader#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal fic#Pedro Pascal fanfic
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just friends
In the beginning they aren’t friends at all. Not even remotely.
Hange is too excitable for Levi, and Levin too severe for Hange. Though the scientist attempts to feign cordiality between the two of them, Levi does nothing to conceal his disdain. It is only after Erwin calls them into his office and speaks to them sternly that they finally come to a silent agreement with one another.
Just friends begins with a sort of truce. An understanding between them that perhaps they aren't so different, or they are, but they can learn to overcome those differences for the sake of synergy in the field.
That is what Erwin wants, after all.
They still poke fun, but it's more lighthearted than it was before. More playful. There is a gentleness to it, a light. It brings some levity to those brutal, bloody days that linger in the backs of their minds. They actually begin to take some small comfort in each other’s presence, though neither of them are willing to admit it allowed, and most certainly not to each other.
When just friends becomes staying up and drinking tea and whisky into the budding hours of dawn, neither of them can say. But more than once they are the only two left standing among a field of drunken allies.
They look at one another, and even Levi, dead sober, sipping his tea, cannot help but smirk.
When Hange passes out in his lap he reluctantly allows the contact, that is until they drool on him, at which point he surreptitiously slips a pillow beneath their cheek.
He pretends not to watch them sleep, only for a moment.
He doesn’t find their peaceful expression enchanting. He doesn’t secretly find them handsome with their russet hair covering their eyes, mingling with their lashes. He pushes it out of their face anyways.
They’re just friends.
Just friends becomes casual touches. Passing smiles (or affectionate scowls in Levi’s case). It becomes easy nights spent in silent company. Nights spent in Hange’s lab, or lounging in the library. It becomes silent understanding, a fleeting consciousness of what the other is about to say or do.
Just friends becomes a sort of casual, platonic intimacy that has their comrades whispering and casting them knowing glances. But they simply ignore it. They are just friends after all.
When just friends begins to entail tending one another's wounds is about two years after their first meeting. Hange limps to his quarters, calf a bloody tattered mess from a nasty three-meter bite.
"I can't go to the infirmary," they explain. “If Erwin finds out about this he’ll bench me.”
He scolds them as he treats the wound with iodine and wraps it in clean gauze.
“You need to be more careful, four-eyes. It could have taken your leg clean off,” he tries to disguise the way his hands shake as he cleans each of the shallow gouges which hug Hange’s calf in a gory half moon.
They hiss and wince as dirt and debris are washed away, leaving only ragged flesh which will surely scar.
Levi pretends that their obvious discomfort doesn’t perturb him, but it does. Another new development. He cares for them, loathe as he is to admit it.
Just friends becomes sharing a bed with surprising swiftness after that.
It is after a particularly gory expedition beyond Wall Maria. Many of their comrades fall, never to rise again. The blood runs in rivers over the fallow earth, bones crunch between massive, inhuman teeth. And the screams. The screams bite into both of them; leaching into their very cores and clinging there like poison; breeding doubt, fear.
The knock comes on Levi’s door well past midnight. That he is still awake is a coincidence he cares not to consider too closely.
He knows its Hange without asking. Who else would be so bold as to disturb Captain Ackerman’s beauty sleep?
“Come in?” He’s reading a book by candlelight and doesn’t so much as glance up as Hange Zoe enters the room, shutting the door carefully behind themself.
“Levi...”
He glances over the top of his book; stare cool but not unkind, “Why are you bothering me so late at night, shitty-glasses? You should be asleep.”
Hange lingers at the threshold, clad in loose sleep clothing. Levi pretends he can’t see their nipples poking through the gauzy fabric of their shirt, “I could say the same about you.”
A long, pained silence passes between the two of them. A quiet sort of understanding.
Slowly, Levi lowers his book into his lap. Then he peels back the covers, scooting over and making room for Hange beside him.
“Bad dreams?” He asks, already knowing the answer he will receive.
Hange crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, they rest their elbows on their knees, steepling their fingers in front of their face, “Yeah. You?”
Levi swallows thickly and nods.
“Can I...” Hange turns their face away, glancing out the window in a paltry attempt to disguise their flush, “Can I stay here tonight?”
Levi doesn’t so much as hesitate, “Yes.”
Tentatively, Hange lowers themself into the mattress, stealing away one of Levi’s pillows. They don’t touch. They don’t speak a word once Hange has settled in beside Levi. The captain simply reaches over his comrade and snuffs out the candle, cloaking them in darkness.
And so just friends becomes best friends in a night.
The territory of best friends is accompanied by a new found respect for one another. A respect that runs deeper than that which had already existed between them. Occasionally Levi will glance up at Hange to find that their eyes are already on him. Usually they are smiling. But on rare occasions their expression is more contemplative; thoughtful and distant.
Levi tries not to think about it too deeply. What it could mean. What they could be thinking while they stare at him with such intensity.
Then the meaning of just friends who happen to be best friends shifts again during a hard fought battle beyond the suffocating succor of the Walls.
Levi jerks awake, head throbbing, mouth dry and tasting of blood. The world around him is blurry at first, and he struggles to recall where he is until it slowly comes into focus.
There are arms around him, supporting his aching head and clutching at his hand. A voice calls out to him, low and panicked.
“Levi? Oh thank fuck, Levi,” it’s Hange. Levi can’t quite remember where he is, but he could place Hange’s voice anywhere. Slowly, they come into focus over him. Their head is ringed with sunlight that shines from behind them, creating the illusion of a halo around them as they look down on him.
It strikes him how perfect they are. Gorgeous. Handsome. Hawkish nose and wide, bright eyes, olive skin and russet hair. Imperfectly perfect.
Their wine-colored eyes shine with worry. They touch his face, tenderly, “Can you speak?”
“Yeah,” Levi rasps, and it finally comes back to him. A titan had emerged as if from nowhere and swept him out of the sky, knocking him head first into the cold, hard ground. Hange saved his life, felling the thing at the last moment before it took the Captain into its jaws.
For a moment it is enough to stun him. But isn’t that what best friends do for one another?
It is that night in Levi’s tent that they go from being just friends who are also best friends, to best friends who kiss in the dark.
Hange refuses to be parted from him. Insisting that he needs supervision due to his possible concussion. Levi doesn’t argue as they help him to his sleeping bag. Outside the stars hold their silent, glittering vigil, and the moon hangs low and radiant in the sky, bleeding through the canvas of the tent just enough to allow for some visibility.
“Try to stay awake,” Hange says softly, sitting beside him. They touch his forehead, pushing his hair away from his eyes. Their touch lingers, and Levi cannot help but notice the way their eyes seem to glimmer in the dark.
When they lean forward and press their lips to his it is chaste, delicate and fleeting. But when they try to pull away he cups the back of their neck and tugs them back to him, sitting up slightly so he can kiss them from an improved angle.
“Just friends,” he rasps between hurried kisses. Hange occupies all of his senses, from their earthy scent to the sharp taste of them on his tongue. He loves it. He would gladly drown himself in Hange Zoe.
Hange nods, curling into his side, kissing him again, “Just friends blowing off steam.”
Just friends, best friends, best friends who kiss in the dark; they carry on that way for months. Stealing kisses in those quiet moments between meetings and missions.
It isn’t long before hands begin to roam. Curious fingers searching over one another’s bodies as they chase each other’s tongues over eager, sliding lips. But they hold back. They resist that primordial drive for sex with everything they have. Because how can they be just friends if they’re having sex? How could they cross that line without jeopardizing everything they have built with one another?
But the others know. Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, even Erwin... they all know. The teasing glances have turned to those of legitimate concern, the passing comments have turned into genuine appeals for common sense. And so they are met with the second reason to remain just friends, best friends, friends who kiss in the dark; the life of a soldier is not one which can accommodate love. Real unconditional love. Duty will always take precedent.
Then comes the night where kissing in the dark is not longer enough.
It was never really enough, but things finally reach a boiling point.
Hange is in their lab, working well past midnight when Levi stumbles in. He is clad in nothing but a pair of loose fitting sleep pants, slate eyes wild. He is flushed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
A nightmare. He’s had a nightmare. Hange bleeding in his arms. Dying. Not from a wound inflicted by a titan but from a series of bullet holes bored into their middle. Weeping blood, crimson welling over his fingers despite the pressure he applied.
The image clings to the backs of his eyes, boring its way into his soul, his heart, his mind and consciousness. Hange; killed by another human, not a titan, but a man. Suddenly nowhere feels safe or sacred. He wants to take Hange into his arms and flee. Flee until the world cannot catch them.
Kisses in the dark could never fix this. It feels like nothing could fix this.
“Levi?” Hange turns away from their work, a collection of bubbling beakers resting on the wooden countertop. Their expression is one of concern as he crosses the room and pulls them roughly into his arms.
“I can’t fucking do this anymore,” He snarls, and then he kisses them roughly, pushing the small of their back into the hard edge of the counter. The beakers rattle and several spill over with the force of his body against theirs.
Hange moans into his mouth, melting into him, arms winding around the back of his neck as he helps them up and onto the counter. They shift backward, experiment forgotten, and suddenly they are anything but just friends.
Levi buries himself in Hange with little foreplay or preamble, but they are already wet and pliant, ready for him.
The sex is fast and desperate. Hange buries their face against Levi’s neck, feeling the erratic pace of his pulse as he delves into them.
“I love you,” they whimper. Because they do. With everything they have they love their Captain. Levi Ackerman. Humanity’s strongest. Theirs.
Levi fucks them harder for it. Because it can’t be. They’re just friends. Best friends. Friends who kiss in the dark and make frantic love at the thought of losing one another. Just friends.
Just friends.
Just friends.
Levi comes inside of Hange with a broken sob. Their fingers are in his hair, lips on his as they follow him over the edge. They’re crying, too. Tears mingle between their mouths as they work one another up again.
They dress, but only long enough to reach Levi’s quarters, at which point they peel away their clothing and fall into bed together. All of it is wordless, silent knowing passes between them. Each anticipates the other’s movements and react with according passion.
They make love again. Slower, softer. Hange’s soft cries fill up the room, punctuated by Levi’s muffled grunts as he buries his own noises in their damp skin.
“This is perfect,” Hange whispers, nails raking down Levi’s switching back. And then they say it again, “I love you.”
Wetness floods between them as Hange comes first. Levi rocks them through it, body wracked with pleasure, mind wracked with confusion, fear of what will happen come sunrise, when this new, precious thing between them has been exposed to the light of day.
But is it really so new? Has he not always loved Hange Zoe? Have they not occupied his every waking thought for years as he refused to acknowledge his own attractions?
He looks down as he fucks into them, finds their wine-colored gaze is locked on his face. They reach up and cup his cheek, soft moans slipping past their lips as his hips stutter and he finishes inside of them for the second time that night.
“Hange,” The way he speaks their name is ragged, like a desperate prayer on his lips. He kisses them. He never wants to stop kissing them.
“I love you,” Hange breathes between kisses. They roll onto their sides, their faces illuminated by a shaft of silvery moonlight through the window. “You don’t have to say it back but I can’t be just friends anymore, Levi. It’s driving me crazy.”
They kiss him, “Seeing you.”
Again, “Touching you.”
A third time, slower, wet, lingering, “But not being with you.”
Levi’s hands are on their hips, caressing up their sides. He feels the goosebumps he leaves in his wake, and knows he shares a similar physiological reaction to Hange’s own touch.
But they’re just friends. Just friends, best friends, friends who kiss in the dark, friends who make desperate love and whisper heartfelt confessions under cover of night. Just friends.
Hange touches his cheek, “Say something, please, Levi.”
His lips part, but he struggles to find the words to express his emotions. Nothing makes sense in that moment. The world has tilted on its axis, everything is changed, and yet nothing is.
“We were never just friends, shitty-glasses,” he says, finally. His eyes are glassy, gaze turned up to peer out the window at the night sky. The stars show their brilliant faces, glittering, and Levi wonders if perhaps their fate is written somewhere in that serene darkness.
“We’ll keep it a secret for as long as we can,” Hange reassures him, settling there head against his chest, where they can hear his heart beating steady and strong. They run their fingers over his sternum, between his pecs and down the expanse of his abdomen, toying with the trail of downy hairs beneath his navel.
“They already know,” Levi sighed, and he presses his mouth to the crown of Hange’s head. His eyes flutter shut, savoring the earthy sent of his lover. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
You’re all that matters, he tacitly implies.
“They know that we were never just friends.” He pulls the sheets over their sweat damp bodies. Cum stains the fitted sheet.
“They don’t approve,” Hange says softly, half asleep, lulled by Levi’s steady breaths.
“I don’t give a shit what they think. We deserve this.” Happiness. Even if it was fleeting. Even if one of them died come dawn, it would have all been worth it; to have been loved, to have known love.
They drift to sleep in each other’s arms.
Just friends, who became best friends, which in turn because friends who kiss in the dark, then lovers. Two people in love.
But they are soldiers, and they both know that whatever time they might have is borrowed. So they treasure it as best they can.
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lost & Found. Chapter 3.
Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.
Summary: being rescued by Helga in one of the raids and reluctantly tolerated by Floki, a young girl finds herself amidst a strange place with strange people, but if adapting to the cultural shock wasn't hard enough, catching the attention of the volatile and beloved son of the Queen would soon prove to be the ultimate proving. That is if she realizes just how much being around prince Ivar is walking on thin ice.
Author's note: family dynamics and fluff.
Tagging: @youbloodymadgenius
Understandment is hard when you can't speak to each other, but gestures may reach further than words.
--------
A few weeks after they returned, Floki's home had fallen into a strangely peaceful routine.
Floki would do his work, busy with Bjorn's request, while Helga would teach Revna their language for hours a day, every day, their voices being background noise for him.
Helga was radiant with joy. She loved taking care of Revna, spending a lot of time combing the long hair and doing beautiful and intricate braids while talking to her, to which Revna would sometimes reply and even if they couldn't understand each other an odd sort of dialogue would emerge.
While this arrangement made Floki uneasy, he could be thankful for his wife's happiness, she hasn't been happy in a long time. Even if happiness was a passing moment, it hurt him that Helga carried so much sorrow, most of which, if not all, he knew to be his fault.
Now, Revna was sitting on the chair shaking her leg and looking down, Floki occasionally looked at her and he didn't need to understand her words to understand her lately. She wasn't allowed outside yet and that was getting to her.
Helga came with a bowl of stew for Revna and tried to hand it to her.
"Here, I brought you food." Helga said to Revna.
She looked at the food then turned her head away to the floor and continued shaking her leg.
"You need to eat to get better, please." Helga tried to reason with her.
Revna answered with a small grunt, resting her head on her hand.
"What is it, my dear? You were doing so well." Helga said to her stroking her hair.
The girl didn’t answer, but Floki did it for her:
"She's bored, Helga. I think she wants to go out."
The realization dawned on Helga, making her smile kindly to the girl, carefully caressing her head. Poor thing, she had every right to be bored, but Helga wanted her to get stronger before facing the city.
Helga sat behind Revna and cupped her face, making the girl look at her. She spoke softly, trying to make her understand:
"I know you're bored, but you need to get strong before I show you Kattegat" she gestured to the door "I'll show you everywhere, but please, keep eating well and get better."
The girl studied her face for a while, then gave her a pout but accepted the food. She ate slowly and in small portions, an empty stare in her eyes.
That was good, Helga thought, that was great. She begged the gods for another child and they gave her one, a beautiful girl that she had already fallen in love with and would do everything in her power to protect.
Not long after, the door swung open and Ivar came into their room, dragging himself until he was inside and on his usual spot like that was his second home, which has been since the day his mother brought him there.
"Hello, Floki. Hello Helga." Ivar greeted them.
"Ivar." Floki greeted him back, spotting right away the faux innocent smile the young prince had whenever he was up to be a pain in someone’s ass.
Ivar turned his attention to the girl, who was eating and either uncaring or ignoring his presence.
"Revna." He said her name with a slight pitch to his voice and squinting at her. He had her name memorized from the odd fit it made for her, but mainly it was for the fact she slapped his hand. No one in their right mind would dare to do it, and no one that ever as much as said something wrong to Ivar got to live much longer, let alone someone stupid enough to try their luck against him, those he took delight in dealing with. Though to Revna, he probably was just a harmless cripple. Ignorance is bliss, he thought.
Revna, apparently taken back from her thoughts, looked at him. Her dark eyes gazing upon him with a spark of curiosity and interest. She had memorized his face after his first visit, how could she not? The complete stranger with very blue eyes, pale skin and a fingertips rough and calloused like the ones found on peasants, slaves or warriors. This complete stranger that touched her like it was normal or acceptable, the nerve!
The voice in her mind screamed: ‘Was it normal to him?’, “Is this normal these strange people I’m living with?’, ‘Was that how he acted around outsiders?’, ‘What am I even doing here?’, ‘What will they do to me?’ Questions, questions, they came and went in circles for all these days.
But she put a stop to them for now, like it or not, for good or ill, he was the only other sight she had other than the couple, she could indulge in a quick distraction from the walls of the home she was living in that were starting to feel smaller by each day.
"Ivar." She said, looking straight at him, trying to pronounce what she inferred to be his name as best as she could. Adding a pitch to her pronunciation, just like he did, just because she could.
His eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side, stare fixed on her and her every minimal movement. He was sincerely surprised that she actually spoke directly at him.
His name on her lips was carried by a foreign accent, it sounded different, almost like it belonged to someone else, but her gaze on him, with expectancy in her eyes and a hint of pride on the corners of her lips turned slightly upward left no doubt she indeed meant him.
Ivar heard her before, annoyed and agitated at his first visit, so he hoped to have the same effect, but now that she spoke camly, trying to pronounce his name correctly and seemingly proud of herself for it, she threw him off balance. He had expected the annoyance she had from before, he expected her disgust at him as she wasn't pleased with his touch, why would she want the hands of a cripple on her? He even expected fear from her, but he didn't expect to hear his name slow and soft on her lips, he didn’t expect to hear her trying to reach out for him and how his own name would sound so foreign coming from her lips.
He wanted her to say it again, wanted to hear the strange way his name sounded from her, but he didn’t know how to demand it, so he nodded at her, not really knowing what to say, not that it would matter. She probably wouldn’t understand him anyway.
Revna smiled proudly to herself, a beautiful smile, if he had to say anything, he mimicked her smile shyly, though he quickly felt self conscious under her gaze and looked away, trying to find somewhere other than her eyes to look at, but nothing seemed to quite hold his attention.
Ivar felt as Revna looked away from him and continued to eat, he glanced a few times at her, the shy smile he held gone as she paid him no further attention. He noticed, however, how her legs began shaking in a slow, lazy rhythm. A stream of thoughts began in his mind: ‘Is she playing with me?’, ‘Is she bothered by my presence?’, ‘Does she pity me?’, a frown forming on his face with each thought.
He turned his attention to Helga, who was distracted with the girl's hair:
"I haven't seen her around yet. Why? When are you going to show her off?” he made a pause before adding the last part venomously “Unless she is to be a house slave."
"She's no slave, Ivar. We're adopting her." Helga corrected him, a tad annoyed at the slave mention.
"Then why haven't I seen her outside, hm? If she's to live here as a free woman, then she needs to know her way around."
"It's too soon yet. She doesn't speak our language."
"It’s not too soon, it’s been weeks! And if all the problem is that she doesn’t speak our language, then it’s another reason to do it. She'll learn much faster by experience."
"I'll take her out when she's ready." Helga answered a bit tense. She didn't want to go into detail of why she was so careful but she also didn’t want to lie to Ivar, who by the frown seemed to be growing angry.
"She seems ready enough." He said pointing to her legs.
Revna stopped shaking her legs, staring at Ivar wide eyed and lips slightly parted as she just took the spoon from her mouth. She arched an eyebrow looking lost as a puppy in the forest. Good, Ivar thought. Revna then looked confused from him to Helga, who caressed her face reassuringly.
"So, why don't you take her outside?" Ivar insisted.
Helga couldn't find an answer to stop Ivar's questioning and looked to her husband for help. Floki seemed entertained, holding a smile of his own, but as soon as he felt his wife’s eyes on him and her silent plea he intervened.
"Since when do you care about things that don't involve you?" Asked Floki.
"What?" Ivar countered astonished, "What do you mean by it? Of course it involves me. I was in this home before her, I have a say in whether she can stay or not."
"Is that so?” Floki said amused, “In this case what your mighty self has to say?"
Without missing a beat and with a self assured tone that didn’t transpired his shyness just a moment ago, he answered:
"I say this girl better adapt to our ways else she brings the wrath of the gods down on us..."
"The gods love her, Ivar. They gave her to me." Helga interrupted him. She realized the mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.
"How can you be so sure?" He inquired, renewed curiosity in his eyes.
"I just know it."
"If you say..." he eyed her suspiciously, before continuing to Floki, "...I say she better learn manners. No one should dare to hit a prince and go off unscathed."
Floki chuckled from his spot then said:
"You deserved that one. You could have used some other way of introducing yourself rather than touching someone you’ve never seen before and is not here as a slave. However, I thank the gods for letting me witness your face that day."
"You old fool..."
"Ivar. Be patient with her." Helga said to Ivar softly. She was very aware of how badly he took insults, even when none existed.
"I am patient,” he countered, “but the girl needs manners."
"Ivar..." Called Floki.
Ivar sighed before continuing:
"However, I am willing to forgive her for you,” he said looking at Helga “and an apology from the girl, once she learns how to speak our language, of course."
"Ivar, she's just a child, give her some time, I'm sure she'll adapt." Said Helga, looking at Ivar while she tied the end of one of the braids on Revna's hair.
Ivar lived with them long enough to see she truly wanted that girl to be part of their lives. He had seen the glimpses of sadness throughout his upbringing, the lost gaze Helga had when she thought no one was looking, the unsettling feeling that lurked under the surface when she saw mothers with their newborn babies. Perhaps the surprise wasn't that she took a girl to raise, but that she took that long to do it.
But he loathed the idea that in Floki’s home would live someone that would regard him in the same way the rest of Kattegat did, an outsider to add insult to injury.
"If you say, I'll try to tolerate her. If at least she can pretend to not be annoyed whenever I’m here.” Ivar said as he pointed to Revna.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what about her shaking her legs was irritating him. If it was the repetitive pattern, the slow rhythm, the proximity of her feet to him, or what was to him, a clear display of her displeasure with his presence. Though why would she have smiled at him with that beautiful smile if she was annoyed by him?
‘She’s playing you’, His own mind answered the question.
Both Helga and Floki looked to each other confused as to what he meant, Floki being the one that asked:
"What do you mean by that? She doesn’t even know who you are to be annoyed at you."
He pointed to Revna’s legs, this time the girl didn’t even bother to look at him and continued eating as if there wasn’t an annoyed young man pointing at her for no reason at all. Which bothered Ivar even more.
Floki couldn’t help but laugh. It was like he was a naughty child again that got all pouty and angry until he got things his way. At least he didn’t scream anymore. Not as frequently at least. His boy was maturing.
"She's bored, Ivar. Been like that for a few days, it has nothing to do with you." Floki made a point to emphasize the last part.
Ivar stared at Floki speechless. His eyes open wide, darting from Floki to the surroundings as his lips parted, which pretty much told the boatbuilder that the young prince hadn’t considered a possibility that didn’t involve him. He then rolled his head before asking:
"Then what have you been doing with her all this time?"
"We’ve been taking care of her, Ivar. Teaching and getting her used to us before she faces the others." Answered Helga.
Ivar pondered her words for a while, then agreed with her.
"What does she do in her spare time?"
Floki was quick to answer that one:
"Snoops around the house, messes up my tools… Oh, she also has a fondness for magic tricks, they make her happy like a child."
"Really?”
“Yes. I’ve done a few for her and it never fails to get her attention.”
“That’s childish.”
“She is a child, Ivar. It’s no surprise at all.”
Ivar looked like he just realized what Floki said to him. Turning his attention back to Revna as she looked around the house with that same little pout on her lips. He had of course noticed she was young when he first saw her and when he touched her face. Younger than him, in fact. Skin too soft and face still with some roundess to it, but he didn’t stop to consider what that would mean. Of course she would be like that being so young and housebound, he knew the feeling all too well from the days and days and more days he had to be inside his home because he was too sick to go out without serious risk of breaking his bones.
Looking to Helga, who hadn’t got her hands away from Revna, he knew that was her doing. ‘Why won’t she let the girl out? She’s not crippled.’ was what he thought. He knew it was her because she had the same look his mother had when she would smother him with her love as if he was still a baby and not let him do anything food himself, which only got worse when his eyes would turn blue. He loved his mother more than anyone and anything else, but he hated feeling useless.
Maybe that was what Revna felt. He was strangely relieved to not be the reason for her annoyance. At least not this time.
Then a silly idea crossed his mind. He reached for a pouch of leather he carried and took a coin from it, he then got a bit closer to Revna and touched her foot. The girl gasped startled but relaxed when she looked down at Ivar, who expectantly tried to measure her reactions to him. She tilted her head and arched her eyebrow inquisitively at him, which coupled with the cute pout on her lips made for an adorable sight. He beckoned her to come closer to him.
“Go on, my dear.” Said Helga to Revna as she looked to Helga for permission.
Revna got off of the chair and sat on the floor close to Ivar, close enough to be within arm’s reach, but not close enough to accidentally brush her legs against his, she then rested her hands on her lap and looked at him with curiosity. He studied her expression carefully, searching for the all too familiar signs of pity and disgust but found none of those. Even though he noticed she kept a distance, he was pleased she sat near him.
He then showed her the coin, playing with it between his fingers deftly, she giggled, trying to follow the coin with her eyes and relaxing a bit from her position. He then halted his movements, holding the coin between his index and middle finger, Revna froze in her position as soon as he stopped and looked from the coin to his very blue eyes. There it was, that beautiful smile together with an innocent shine in her eyes.
He then put the coin flat against the palm of his hand, closing both of them into fists and bringing them close to his lips, he didn’t take his eyes off her, enjoying her full attention as she looked from his fists to his eyes. He blew air against his fists and slowly opened them, showing her the palms of his hands, the coin nowhere she could see.
Revna looked at him, giggling happily with a wide smile, a smile Ivar found to be quite beautiful and contagious, making him smile himself, although more reservedly. When she calmed down and silence fell between them, they were looking at each other’s eyes, hers filled with joy and his with pride for being the reason for it.
He soon felt self conscious again and looked away.
98 notes
·
View notes
Note
Would an individual ask about Caleb ending up with the reader instead of Essek at the end of campaign be alright? I love the wizard bois together, but I'm crushing baaaad on Caleb hehe. Maybe they teach and live happily ever after together, very domestic living after all the adventures they've had :3
Hoping to satisfy your Caleb crush. How's this for some domestic fluff? Enjoy! 😘
The first rays of sunlight are blocked by thick heavy curtains. Awake or asleep, Caleb’s sense of time never fails him. He wakes up bright and early on the minute precise but makes no move to truly start his day. How could he with the sight he wakes to? There you lay, in his arms, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Never did he think he’d see you so relaxed, or allow yourself to be so relaxed. Sure your lives are not free of stress or the occasional disaster and rarely are your livelihoods in peril these days but compared to months ago that doesn’t even come close to the dangers you’ve faced together; dangers that the majority of the people will never know about. A moment of peace and quiet was just another luxury you and him couldn’t truly afford no matter how much you may have pretended. But now you finally know peace.
Caleb watches your eyes flutter beneath your eyelids and watches just a moment longer carefully trailing his fingers up from their place on your waist to your cheek, caressing it fondly as you sleep. He reminisces when and where your lives intertwined in that tavern in Trostenwald and the events leading you both here together in your shared apartment in Rexxentrum at the Soltryce Academy as respectable teachers of the arts you both love.
When you first met Caleb feared you. He feared you more than anything for you just like him had ties to the Cerberus Assembly but you did not suffer the same fate he had. Luckily your studies were of no interest of his former master and you were instead claimed by another sent out into the world to learn more and find your own way. He was so scared you might lead the Assembly to his nonexistent doorstep and at one point entertained the thought you were a spy sent to bring him back but you proved the opposite. When he revealed his story and you told him you would help him or die trying beside him he brushed you off. Persistent as you are you gave him the wakeup call of a lifetime saying that you’re not doing this just for him but everyone before him, everyone after him.
To Caleb you will always represent all that is good and pure in this world despite the horrors that may have shaped you, changed you for better or worse. He will always consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world to have you at his side as his confidant, moral compass, study-mate, intellectual equal, bailout, friend, partner, but most of all; his lover for he could not want for anyone else in the world. No one could ever replace you and no one can compare to you. You may tell him you’re not the most intelligent, quick-witted, charming or interesting individual in the world but to him you are and he will argue with you on that until you grow tired of him and are forced to accept. He certainly does not mind the fluster of your cheeks and kiss you offer to shut him up.
And now you lie asleep cuddled up against him, limbs intertwined, the sunset orange covers slipping from your shoulder. Caleb hears the birds begin their song signalling he must leave the warm comforts of your embrace so carefully he begins to untangle his legs from yours, his arm from underneath your head replacing it by quickly pulling the pillow above down. He begins to untangle your grasp on his shirt slowly removing your fingers one by one. A deep intake of breath on your end and adjustment of your legs below the covers has him worried he’s woken you up.
Caleb knows fully well you have your own ways of waking up on time and you would have asked him the night before if he ought to wake you, so since you’re not already awake he’ll give you every extra minute of sleep you can get. You deserve it so he’ll curse himself if he’s the one to ruin it. Once you have adjusted and he’s sure you’re still sleeping he continues and removes himself from the warm comforts you’re huddled up among longing for nothing more than to share them a minute longer and gathers his things. In putting his lesson plans, notes and a few books to pass the time for the day he bends down to allow the orange tabby to jump into his arms and sets the cat onto the table taking a moment to stroke its fur and give some chin scratches leaving the little beastie purring.
Ridding himself of his night clothes Caleb puts on his shirt, and trousers tucking the shirt into the waistband and moves on to his footwear as per his usual routine. He takes the vest set out for him and is about to button it up when he feels eyes on him. His first thoughts go to the cat but that one’s not the guilty audience so instead his eyes fall to you, propped up against the headboard watching him.
“Well don’t stop on my accord. Though, I prefer the clothes back on the chair.” Your voice is still riddled with sleep but you’re awake enough for your comments so Caleb feels justified to give you a disapproving scowl though he cannot prevent the smile from creeping up his lips.
“Good morning to you too.” Caleb smiles as you cover a yawn with the back of your hand. You pull yourself out of the bed and stumble over to Caleb until you’re toe to toe placing a hand on his cheek guiding him into a kiss. Your lips move against his and his arms wrap around you to return and welcome your efforts openly. Though, enough’s enough and Caleb breaks the kiss giving you one final peck in an attempt to kiss away the onset disappointment and pout on your end.
“No matter how much I’d like to continue, Astrid will have both of our heads we show up late.” Caleb runs his fingers through your hair kissing your cheek as you cross your arms. Is there nothing you can do to convince him to stay? He might be right about Astrid…
“Well, I do not have any classes until second period but if you’re so adamant to stay with me I can send the archmage a message to tell her you’re regretful to be missing your first class of the day and to find a substitute.” You’re joking. Not really. A joke hiding the actual offer. Caleb considers it for a brief moment purely to entertain the thought but he knows very well he shouldn’t.
“You know we can’t but how about I make it up to you with dinner and dancing and a night in? Just the two of us.” Caleb cups your cheeks stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs, a gesture he knows very well makes you melt.
“That sounds like an agreeable offer, professor Widogast.” Your acceptance brings another bright smile to his face and he pulls you into another chaste kiss to seal the deal. This time you’re the one to pull away.
“Best get you ready for the day then, lest you be late.” Your nimble fingers stroke down the front of his chest finding the buttons of his vest and one by one buttoning them up. Once you’re done you take a few steps back looking him over.
“Do I pass your inspection, professor?” Caleb laughs half the mind to do a little spin for you but he refrains instead lifting the cat from the table into his arms.
“With flying colours. I think his highness is inclined to agree.” You watch as the cat meows making himself comfortable in your wizard’s arms without any intent to go anywhere but alas, all good things come to an end be it for the cat or you. With some protests Caleb puts the cat back on the ground allowing the creature to skitter off to gods know where.
You pull open the curtains allowing the light of dawn to fill the room. Caleb already regrets the decision of not taking you up on your offer to call in late and miss his first class as you look absolutely radiant but he feels certain both of you will be missing second and possibly even third period if he does, so he must refrain. Tonight will make up for it. He’s already got the perfect place in mind for dinner.
You catch Caleb staring, his gaze following you as you pull at the heavy fabric until the outside world is revealed to you. You put a little sway in your step before you gather your own clothes for the day and change in your usual attire, slowly. Deliberately slow. If he’s already staring you better not waste your opportunity and make a show of it.
“No use in staying in bed all alone. His Highness makes for good company but he’s a dull conversationalist. Perhaps I’ll drop by Beau at the Archives?” You deliberate your events for the morning tapping your chin.
“If you do, tell the Expositor I have some more files for her to study.” Caleb, finally pulled out of his trance steps back over to you, or rather besides you to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. You know he’s about to be off so you wrap your arm around his waist as you guide him to the door. Not much you can change about the need for students to be taught the wonders of transmutation magic. While you may find times you’d want to spend more time together, in the end neither of you would ever want to give up teaching. There’s plenty of other times you can spend together happily. Or you can justify combining your classes for one reason or another as you love nothing more than to share your passions.
“I’ll see you in a few hours at the Academy?” Caleb watches as you fall silent for a moment, your focus drawn away.
“Yes, I’ll make sure he knows. We’ll be there. Thank you.” You speak but Caleb knows fully well it’s not directed at him. This has become a habit he’s very much gotten used to so he simply awaits for you to share the message.
“Astrid wants us for lunch. She threatened to limit your access to the library if you’re late.” Of course she does, Caleb thinks to himself. So the archmage may or may not have heard about his almost-arrest of the day before. He’d already gotten an earful from you.
“Of course she does. There go our lunch plans for our free period.”
“You’re the one to get arrested for- and I quote ‘encourage insurgence among young impressionable souls’.” You grin. Okay, you may have been a little proud of Caleb actively trying to do better but you could do without the accusations of treason. You’d rather not have Caleb spend the night in jail because word got out or he pissed off the wrong person. You’d expect this from Beauregard but had hoped Caleb would be more careful about it and so apparently thought Astrid. He’s in for a scolding according to her tone.
“Merely teaching young impressionable souls how to be better. Is that a crime?” You grab Caleb’s coat and help him into it as he offers you a ‘thank you’.
“According to the king, yes it is.” The amusement in your voice is enough to earn you a playful glare. You open the door for Caleb and he steps halfway out offering you one final kiss.
“Love you.” Caleb pecks your lips. You’ve drawn out the length of the kiss long enough and he’s already on the verge of running late now so no matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go.
“Love you too, Caleb. See you soon and for the love of the arcane arts; stay out of trouble.” You know he won’t make that promise as he can’t keep it but you still tell him to every time. You kiss his cheek stepping back and watching the wizard leave as you close the door. Nothing but a usual morning; sneaking out of bed, cats, kisses, a message from your friend the archmage, talks of treason and the love of two fate-entwined mages trying to make the world a better place.
#critical role x reader#critrole x reader#mighty nein x reader#caleb x reader#caleb widogast x reader#critical role#mighty nein
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chance Encounter (sequel to The Premiere)
What happens when y/n and Cillian bump into each other again off set? Will their little agreement still stand?
Warning : Smut
Taglist - @queenshelby @peakyscillian @margoo0 @being-worthy @noctvrnalmoth @janelongxox
Your hair was done, your makeup flawless (if you did say so yourself) and you were finally ready. Your former costar Natasha was getting married and she'd invited you to the reception. You'd booked your hotel room and silently prayed to the god of all that is holy that Cillian was invited too. You knew your agreement half a year ago was that if you "worked together" again, you'd hook up, but surely agreements could have the odd caveat here and there, right? You just hoped he was still single... There had been plenty of buzz about him and a girl from back home reconnecting a few months ago but you'd never plucked up the courage to ask him outright. Last thing you wanted was to look desperate but truth be told? You were. A little. Okay, a lot, but you hid it well - no one had any inkling anything had happened that night at the casino, and that's just how you liked it. The rumour mill had piped down, even after THAT interview. But deep down you wanted more of the man that had truly captivated you. It annoyed you that he wasn't on any social media - there was no way of keeping in touch other than via text/call but neither of you had made contact with the other after that night.
You smoothed down your dress and grabbed your handbag. One quick check on your hair, and you made your way to the lift. Pressing the 'down' button, you felt two strong hands suddenly clinch your waist, making you (and your heart) jump.
"Too easy, y/n..." You spun on your heels and came face to face with Cillian, praying your foundation covered your burning cheeks. Game face on, you slapped his arm playfully. The tickle and slap had been your 'thing' all the way through Peaky Blinders.
"Mr Murphy, how the devil are you?" He embraced you warmly, greeting you the same way on old friend would - had he moved on?
"I'm excited to be here with everyone again, can't wait to see Tash's dress!" You smiled breaking away from him, hoping he couldn't feel your heart practically exploding through your dress.
"She'll look beautiful I'm sure." You held eye contact for a little longer than you should have, before the lift door pinged. Inside were Finn and Joe Cole, obviously having caught the lift from a higher floor. It suddenly dawned on you that your room was on the same floor as Cillian's... Stop it y/n...
"Hey!!! Peaky Reunion in full swing now!" Your onscreen brother and cousin pulled you both in for hugs as Cillian pressed the button for the ground floor.
Entering the large foyer, the beauty of the hotel where the reception was being held was breathtaking. The wedding flowers, lilies and roses, lined the corridors, leading the way to the large reception hall at the bottom of the corridor. Entering the room, you found the other cast members on a table together in the corner, and saw 4 empty seats around the table. Approaching the table plan in the corner, you groaned inwardly to see Natasha had placed you and Cillian right next to each other.
"Should be a fun evening, y/n.. what you drinking?" Cillian nudged you with a wink. Why was he so damn hard to read??
"Gin and lemonade please," you smirked, and he made his way to the bar with Joe. Finn joined you at the table, smirking at you.
"That flame still burning there y/n?" He nudged you as you took your seats. Finn one side of you, Cillian the other.
Conversation flowed around the table easily, the group of you catching up on the last six months. Most of you having taken a break from any kind of work for a while out of choice.
"I hear your love life is improving there Cillian!" Joe laughed, playfully punching the top of Cillian's arm. He didn't respond, just smiled shyly and rolled his eyes. Your heart dropped, he HAD moved on then..
He caught your eye and went to speak to you, before the music kicked in and the DJ announced the arrival of Natasha and her husband into the room. You all stood, cheering and clapping as the beautiful bride and her dashing husband entered, grinning like Cheshire Cats. The conversation with Cillian would have to wait...
The end of the night drew close and you were stood at the bar with a tipsy Natasha talking about her father's embarrassing yet beautiful speech, when the music suddenly turned down a notch. You were so happy for her, she looked absolutely radiant.. but the feelings in your heart were almost painful. You'd avoided Cillian all night, much to his dismay. He'd tried talking to you but you were determined to keep your distance. He was clearly taken, and you wouldn't dream of getting in the way of that. You couldn't help but notice him watching you from a distance throughout the night though, and you regularly scanned the room to check he was still around somewhere. Occasionally your eyes met, and you looked away quickly every time.
Natasha's wedding song played again through the speakers for the second time, the DJ inviting all the couples in the room up to the dance floor. Natasha kissed you cheek and hugged you, before heading off to find her new husband.
You felt those familiar hands on your waist, but they didn't tickle like normal, they gently turned you round in a 180 degree turn.
"Stop avoiding me." Those blue eyes pierced into yours.
"Very sure of yourself there, aren't you?"
"Every time I've got within 2 feet of you, you've moved away. I've tried to talk to you and you suddenly need the toilet.. or a cigarette.. or just plain walked away. Forgive me for thinking you were keeping a deliberate distance from me y/n." He looked serious, a side you rarely saw in him. He almost looked hurt.
"Listen, Cill.. you're clearly with someone okay? And I'm.. I'm just.. it's okay.. It really is. I -" His lips suddenly fell onto yours, silencing you, taking you completely by surprise. Now that, you weren't prepared for. You suddenly no longer cared about anyone else in the room, you lost yourself in his embrace, your kiss quickly becoming heated as your tongues met.
"What are you doing..." You breathed, pulling away.
"I'm not seeing anyone y/n, I never was. That girl is my publicist - yes we dated but we were 16.. she's married now, to my best friend ironically.. I'm single."
"Well you've just kissed me in a room full of people.."
"I know.. and I'll deal with that later, but right now I really don't care. I've been wanting to do that ever since that night."
"Why didn't you call me?" His hands were caressing your arms lightly as he chuckled to himself.
"I chickened out." You stifled a laugh.
"Me too... I didn't want to be the first to text!"
"Thank god Tash got married eh? How long you reckon we'd have gone on without talking for?"
"Oh come on, did you think you two sitting together at the table was a coincidence?" Joe appeared suddenly behind you at the bar. You both turned to look at him. "You two have been like lovestruck teenagers since Peaky finished - frankly we were sick of hearing about it!" You were stunned.. nobody knew? Did they?
"We all bloody knew." Joe was a mind-reader now, apparently. Cillian's hand found yours, and led you to the dance floor. You followed, positively glowing now, as he pulled you close to him, gently swaying with you to the music.
"Which room are you staying in?" He whispered in your ear, a hand running up your spine.
"Yours..." Your hands ran up the length of his arms, over his shoulders. The navy blue suit bringing out the blue in his eyes perfectly as he pulled you close for another kiss.
"What do you say we head there now.." that voice would be the death of you, as it whispered in your ear again. You could feel his arousal through his trousers as you nodded, kissing him again. He took off his suit jacket and held it over his crotch as you both made your way quickly to the lift, luckily no one stopping you.
Your bodies met in the elevator again, your body being pushed against the wall as he lifted you up to wrap your legs round his waist. His core grinding into yours. Your fingers tugging his hair as he kissed a trail down your neck.
"Need to stop or I swear I'm gonna fuck you in this lift y/n.." you shuddered at the deepness of his voice, when the door to the elevator opened and he carried you to his hotel room. Opening the door, your legs still wrapped around him, he carried you to the large dresser by the window and sat you on it, hitching your dress up and over your waist, pulling your underwear down your long, slender legs.
"I never got to taste you last time..." You groaned from the pulsing feeling in your core as he parted your legs and kissed a trail up your thighs. Meeting your core, his tongue traced over your clit painfully slowly as your back arched.
"Oh god... Yes.." working a slow rhythm at first, he added more pressure as you started to rock against his mouth, needing more and needing it now. "Feels so good..."
"You taste perfect y/n..." His assault continued with fervour, he soon had your back arched as you came against his tongue. Coming down from your high he got back to his feet as you breathed heavily into another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
"I want you.. now Cillian..." The primal desire in his eyes was almost too much as you unbuckled his belt and trousers, letting them fall to the floor. Cupping his erection through his Calvin Kleins you felt him shudder slightly and gasp, standing you up to lift your dress over your head and unclasp your bra. His shirt was quickly removed as you pushed him backwards to fall onto the bed. Hooking your fingers in the waist band of his boxers shorts, you pulled them down allowing his hard cock to spring free. Giving it a gentle lick from the base to the tip, you sank your mouth down over it causing him to grip your hair and moan primally, never taking his eyes off you.
"Fuck.. your mouth feels good... Mm..." Your mouth was dancing over his shaft, a hand cupping his balls as you played with them.
Feeling his balls start to tighten, you lifted your mouth off him, bringing your body up the bed to meet his. His blue eyes were now almost black - you needed him inside you.. reading your mind he flipped you onto your front, opening your legs and lining himself up.
"Still on that coil thing?" He looked at you. You nodded, and he pushed into you slowly. You gasped at the invasion, he filled you up even better than he did before. Watching his eyes scrunch shut as he bottomed out, you smiled. He was perfect in every way, shape and form.. and after tonight's very public display, was he yours?
"I've wanted this for months... In fact I've wanted YOU for years..." You panted, lifting your hips to meet his gentle thrusts.
"You have me.. all of me.. you always have.." he thrusted between each sentence, sending shockwaves through you. He wasn't fucking you, he was making love to you.
He lifted you up, your legs wrapped round his waist as you moved together. Your lips met his as he ran his fingers smoothly down your spine, your arms wrapped over his shoulders as his thrusts met your hips perfectly. Your nails ran along his sculpted back, as he planted soft kisses over your collarbone. You had never felt anything like it - your bodies slotted together like jigsaw pieces, but you needed more. Turning your bodies, you pushed him onto his back and sank back onto his cock.
Rocking back and forth, building a steady rhythm you felt his hands roaming over your breasts causing you to ride a little harder.
"You're perfect, y/n, you know that? Absolutely perfect..." His eyes and hands were all over you. Pulling your waist up and down, he took over, lifting you slightly so he could thrust upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside easily. You brought a hand down to rub your clit as he began to pound harder into you from below, your orgasm drawing closer and closer.
"I'm gonna... Oh god Cillian I'm gonna cum..."
"Let me feel you... Let it happen baby I've got you..." You exploded over him, the most powerful orgasm you'd ever had. You felt your juices coat him, as your hand stopped rubbing his quickly took over, making you scream as he continued the pressure on your clit and your insides. You froze as you suddenly felt yourself lose complete control of your body, gushing over his chest as he made your pussy squirt hard over his chest and stomach.
He watched you, mesmerised as you cried his name, chest heaving from the force of your orgasm. Breathing heavily, trying to control himself and not end this too soon, he paused his thrusts as you came down from your high.
"Fuck... Jesus.. that's never happened before I'm sorry!" You gasped, coming back down to earth.
"Don't ever be sorry for that - I'm doing that to you every single time from now on.. fuck that felt incredible..." He growled and turned you over to lie on your back. He re-entered you, slipping in easily, and moved inside you again. You reached behind you to grab the bedframe.
"Give me everything... Everything you have..." He was like a wild animal, his hips pounding into you again. He was panting in your ear, sending you into heaven and back as you wrapped your legs round his waist, pulling him deep.
"Good girl... That's it... I'm gonna -" he lost the ability to speak as he came hard, deep inside you, his body collapsing on top of yours. You ran your nails over his shoulders, feeling his breathing calm.
You lay tangled together for a while, just enjoying the feel of each others skin, listening to each other breathe, placing soft, gentle kisses on each other. He pulled out slowly, and lay next to you.
The silence wasn't awkward, but you had to break it.. you had to know..
"Cill?"
"Hmm.." his eyes were closed, but he lifted an arm for you to move into. You didn't, you stayed where you were. He opened his eyes and looked at you. "What's wrong?"
"What is this? What are we doing? I mean, I'm not expecting anything.. I just.. listen.. don't be mad.. but I've thought about that night every single day and I don't think I can carry on doing this if you don't actually want me, okay?"
"I kissed you in a room FULL of people y/n, what does that tell you?"
"I don't -"
"I want you, okay? Not just as a fuck, but all of you. You and me - what do you say?" Your eyes gazed into his. Everything you'd ever wanted was waiting in them. You settled into his arms and allowed yourself to drift off in his arms. The safest, and most comfortable you'd ever felt.
*************************************************
More cameras flashing, more screams.. another premiere. This time for your latest movie - you'd been cast as the lead role in Danny Boyle's latest blockbuster and you were leading the rest of the cast on the red carpet. Your dress showing off your curves perfectly.
You stood in line with your castmates smiling, when a pair of ocean blue eyes caught your attention off to the left. You couldn't help but grin when he winked at you, you could feel how proud he was of you. You heard the event manager call for individual photos, and you stayed on the red carpet smiling for the cameras.
"Can we get one of you and Cillian, y/n?" One of the photographers asked, and the others all shouted in agreement. You shook your head, knowing how much he hated these events, and PDAs even more, but you were cut off by the man himself approaching you smiling.
"Why not, eh?" We wrapped his arms round your waist and stood happily having his photo taken. He was just too proud not to, he wanted the world to know.. taking your hand in his, he led it to your belly, suddenly the fans in the background went wild screaming, the photographers suddenly noticing the roundness of your stomach and catching onto the exclusive news.
You felt a warmth running through you - it truly didn't get better than this, as you gazed into your fiance's eyes and stole a kiss.
108 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
futur0-incerto
Incerto
booksandburrs
flowerdeliveryonline.co.uk
tayslifes-blog
My Life Blog
12thandsacfilms
An Independent Production Company