#Like I’ll just be swept along and drowned forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sadprosed · 2 years

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𝑳𝒀𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬ RED (TAYLOR’S VERSION) ( 2021 ) by taylor swift.

pt. i, lyrics that made me sob on the floor at 2 am, taken from or inspired by the lyrical masterpiece that is red (tv).

+ feel free to change pronouns / roles !

STATE OF GRACE.

‘ we fall in love until it bleeds, or hurts, or fades in time. ’

‘ you come around and your armor falls. ’

‘ this is a state of grace. ’

‘ this is the worthwhile fight. ’

‘ love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right. ’

‘ this is the golden age of something good and right and real. ’

‘ you’re my achilles’ heel. ’

‘ so you never were a saint. ’

‘ i loved in shades of wrong. ’

RED.

‘ loving you is like trying to change my mind once i’m already flying through the free fall. ’

‘ it’s like the colors in autumn, so bright just before they lose it all. ’

‘ losing you was blue like i’ve never known. ’

‘ forgetting you is like trying to know somebody i’ve never met. ’

‘ remembering you comes in flashbacks, and echoes. ’

‘ i tell myself it’s time now, gotta let go. ’

‘ moving on from you is impossible when i still see it all in my head. ’

‘ regretting him / her / them is like wishing you’d never found out that love could be that strong. ’

‘ that’s why you’re spinning ‘round in my head, it comes back to me burning red. ’

TREACHEROUS.

‘ put your lips close to mine as long as they don’t touch. ’

‘ i can’t decide if it’s a choice: getting swept away. ’

‘ i hear the sound of my own voice asking you to stay. ’

‘ all we are is skin and bone trained to get along. ’

‘ i’m forever going with the flow, but you’re friction. ’

‘ your name has echoed through my mind and i just think you should know. ’

‘ nothing safe is worth the drive and i will follow you home. ’

‘ this hope is treacherous. ’

‘ this daydream is dangerous. ’

I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE.

‘ i guess you didn’t care, and i guess i liked that. ’

‘ when i fell hard you took a step back without me. ’

‘ i realized the blame is on me. ’

‘ i knew you were trouble when you walked in. ’

‘ i flew me to places i’ve never been until you put me down. ’

‘ no apologies, you’ll never see me cry. ’

‘ you’ll pretend you don’t know that you’re the reason why i’m drowning. ’

‘ i heard you moved on from whispers on the street. ’

‘ you were long gone when you met me. ’

‘ the saddest fear comes creeping in, that you never loved me. ’

ALL TOO WELL.

‘ something about you felt like home somehow. ’

‘ i can picture it after all these�� days. ’

‘ i know it’s long gone. ’

‘ i might be okay, but i’m not fine at all. ’

‘ i / you remember it all too well. ’

‘ you tell me about your past, thinking your future is me. ’

‘ i’ll forget about you long enough to forget why i needed to. ’

‘ maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much. ’

‘ maybe this thing was a masterpiece, till you tore it all up. ’

‘ you called me up again just to break me like a promise. ’

‘ you’re so casually cruel in the name of being honest. ’

‘ time won’t fly, it’s like i’m paralyzed by it. ’

‘ i’d like to be my old self again, but i’m still trying to find it. ’

‘ it reminds you of innocence. ’

‘ i loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known. ’

‘ it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well. ’

22.

‘ it feels like a perfect night. ’

‘ we’ll end up dreaming instead of sleeping. ’

‘ we’re happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time. ’

‘ it’s miserable and magical. ’

‘ everything will be alright if you keep me next to you. ’

‘ we’ll forget about the heartbreaks. ’

‘ you don’t know about me, but i’ll bet you want to. ’

‘ everything will be alright if we just keep dancing. ’

I ALMOST DO.

‘ i bet this time of night you’re still up. ’

‘ i just want to tell you it takes everything in me not to call you. ’

‘ i wish i could run to you. ’

‘ i hope you know that every time i don’t, i almost do. ’

‘ you think i either moved on, or hate you. ’

‘ i bet it never ever occurred to you. ’

‘ i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye. ’

‘ we made quite a mess, babe. ’

‘ we’re probably better off this way. ’

‘ i confess, that in my dreams you’re touching my face. ’

‘ you’re asking me to stay. ’

‘ i hope sometimes you wonder about me. ’

WE ARE NEVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER.

‘ i remember when we broke up the first time. ’

‘ i’m saying this is it, i’ve had enough. ’

‘ i miss you, and i swear i’m gonna change. ’

‘ remember how that lasted for a day? ’

‘ this time i’m telling you. ’

‘ we are never ever getting back together. ’

‘ i’m really going to miss you picking fights, and me falling for it, screaming that i’m right. ’

‘ you’ll hide away and find some peace of mind. ’

‘ you’ll call me up again tonight. ’

‘ i used to think that we were forever. ’

‘ i used to say never say never. ’

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shroudcore · 3 years

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Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers.

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now.

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar.

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course.

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well.

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level.

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it.

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to:

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer.

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours.

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes.

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged.

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again.

They loved you. And Idia was no different.

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten.

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved.

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…”

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No…”

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you.

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words?

He looked away.

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe.

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?”

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway.

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that.

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him.

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?”

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble?

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case).

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him?

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride.

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors.

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood.

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head.

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there.

Help… oh no…

2m…

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho…

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left.

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace.

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit.

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back.

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck.

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory.

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground.

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-”

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself.

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand.

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!”

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again.

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!”

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter.

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside.

“You left me there!” Idia huffed.

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!”

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it. I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise.

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care.

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway.

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did.

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day.

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point. But if you have time, I could go on forever.

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that.

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend.

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself.

Oh, and enjoy your new manga.

Your best raid teammate,

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was.

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same.

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again.

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning.

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!”

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all.

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!”

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!”

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved.

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit.

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little.

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together.

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios.

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light.

THE END.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback!

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.”

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

219 notes · View notes

wonderfilworld · 3 years

Note

a James Potter fluff fic where he and the reader are talking about their future together 🥺

a/n: sorry this took me so long, I had finals so I hope you weren't frustrated with me! But this is the cutest idea ever so thank you so much 🥺

warnings/contains: kissing, it's just really fluffy and I wish I had someone who loved me like I know James Potter would.

James’ chest was pressed against your back, his hands running up and down your arms while yours rested on his strong thighs. The bath was warm, bubbles sticking to your skin, the smell of lavender filling your senses as you both relaxed into each other’s embrace.

Days like this were your favorite; nothing to do except bask in each other’s company - do whatever the two of you wanted: bake cookies, watch movies, go out - whatever you did, you did it together.

You had music playing softly in the background, and the two of you were humming along, and you laughed as James tried to sing to you, just stick to quidditch, babe you tell him, and he scoffs.

He presses kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, and after each kiss he whispers gentle praises, telling you how much he loves you.

“I love your smile, baby,” He says, and his hands run down the length of your arms to grab your hands.

You intertwine them, laying your head back on his shoulder as you smile.

“That’s the one,” He says when he spots it, leaning down to peck your lips. “And I love your eyes.”

A kiss pressed to either eye.

“And that beautiful brain of yours,” A kiss pressed to the center of your forehead. You hum, not wanting to interrupt his sweet confessions.

He’s always been a kind, sentimental person, never failing to tell you just how much you mean to him. He would do anything for you - he has enough love in his heart to bring you to your knees.

You would do anything for this man because you love him just as much.

“And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” He whispers.

You can’t help but smile, leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw before you whisper back. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of mine with you, baby.”

He’s sporting a bashful smile, and it’s strange, the fact that James Potter can be so cocky - so confident - with most things in his life, yet the sweet admission that you’d spend the rest of your days by his side makes his heart swell, forges a lump in his throat and he may tear up.

Because if there’s one thing you know about James Potter, it’s that he loves big, and he loves with his whole heart.

You turn your body, straddling him now as his hands scratch up and down your back. His smile grows and spreads along the expanse of his face, eyes crinkling, teeth showing, and you feel so immensely happy.

There’s no way James can describe how much he loves you. He loves you infinitely - more than he’s ever loved anything ever. He’s drowning in it; getting swept up in the current that is your love. He would stay lost at sea for the rest of his life if you let him.

"What do you think we'll be doing ten years from now?" He asks, head buried in your neck as the two of you cling to each other.

Your hands are in his hair, running through the brunette locks soothingly as you think over your answer.

"Mmm, I think," You started, taking a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around this neck tightly, placing a kiss on the side of his head. "That we'll be dealing with a wild little boy who is as crazy as his father."

"You think I'm crazy?" James asks as he pulls his head back, giving you a pout.

You laugh softly, leaning in and placing a peck to his bottom lip. "You're lucky I like crazy," You tell him.

He grins, giving you another peck on the lips before resting his forehead against yours. "Damn right I am."

"What about you? What do you think we'll be doing in ten years?" You questioned, closing your eyes as you listened to the drip of the faucet and the slow rhythm of the music.

"We'll have our hands full with James Jr.," He began, but you cut him off before he could continue.

"We are not naming him James Jr." You deadpanned, eyes opening to meet the smiling face of your lover.

"And why not? I happen to think James is a lovely name."

"Because I'm not putting up with two children named James."

"Wow. Ouch, babe."

Another kissed placed upon his lips. "You know I love you."

"Hm, I'm not sure I do at the moment."

You kiss him once again, James' ego is a big one so you don't mind taking a stab at it every now and then.

"What else," You whisper.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," He said with narrowed eyes. "We'll have a little boy with my hair and your eyes who acts just like me."

"Gods help me," You muttered.

James only acknowledged your aside with a pinch to the skin of your hip.

"And we'll have a beautiful little girl who looks just like you. Who's smart like you, and with a big heart that cares so much - just like you."

You can't help but let out a near-silent aww, James' dream of your future children pulling your heartstrings. You really did want children with this man - to raise kids that were half you and half the love of your life - you couldn't think of anyone else you would want to go through this life with.

"And plus, I'll have the hottest wife around. Everyone will be so jealous."

"Shut up, James."

Chuckling, he kisses you once more but deeper this time - air abandoning your lungs as it feels like James is pouring his whole heart into this kiss.

And he is; he's not above saying that you make him a better person. Not above saying that he needs you - as much as he needs air to breathe or food or water. He can't remember a time before you - not that he would want to, it almost feels as if he didn't exist before meeting you.

You pull away, looking at him as the music plays and the smell of lavender still fills the air even though the bubbles left a long time ago.

“Forever, then?’ He says, forehead pressed against yours. Music is still carrying throughout the room, and the water is beginning to turn cold but you don’t even care.

“Forever,” You say.

tags: @crazypantlady @hufflepuffsfordraco @eunoia-kth @simpforlunaaa2003 if you want to be added to my taglist, fill this out. ps I love every single one of you

If you enjoyed this please let me know, it really encourages me to continue writing!

#james potter #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #marauders #marauders era x reader #marauders fluff

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shini--chan · 3 years

Note

I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

#yandere hetalia #yandere allies #yandere america #yandere england #yandere russia #yandere canada #yandere china #yandere france

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emilyshotchniss · 3 years

Text

Red Wine and Gentle Lavender

Summary : After Emily doesn’t make it off the table, you go home and your heart breaks all over again, realising you missed your chance with her. Forever.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader

Warnings: Heartwrenchingly angsty

Word Count: 936

“She never made it off the table."

You never thought seven little words could hurt so badly. Your surroundings turned to white noise, as you felt your soul begin to tear apart, the sounds of your teammates cries drowning out, fading to nothing. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing, shallow and shaky. Before you knew it, your body dropped towards the floor, crumbling against the wall. You felt arms grab you tightly, holding you up, unable to support yourself. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing.

You looked up to see Hotch and Rossi, helping you into a chair, their mouths were moving, but you couldn't focus on what they were saying. Confusion swept across your face, as you felt water hit your face.

"W-Where is... Where is th-this water, c-coming from," You mumbled, looking up. The white noise began to fade, as you felt JJ crouch beside you, holding your hand.

"Honey, you-you're crying," She sniffed, wiping your tears, holding back her own.

"I- I don't-" You began, before Penelope sat by you, pulling you into the tightest hug imaginable. That's when it hit you - she was gone. Emily Prentiss, your best friend, your confidant, your other half - was dead. You began to sob into Penelope's shoulder, your heart shattering into a million pieces, feeling Garcia whimper softly along with you. The cruelest part, however, was the soul crushing realisation that you never told her how you really felt about her - how much you truly cared for and appreciated her. You had so many chances to tell her you loved her, but let fear get the better of you every time. Now, it was too late - you'd missed your chance, forever.

"I- I have to- I can't," You stuttered, getting out of your seat, patting Penelope's shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Hotch said, keeping you steady. You looked into his eyes, tears brimming yet again.

"I can't be here, Hotch," You whimpered, a tear staining your cheek. He looked at Rossi, and they both nodded.

"Alright, c'mon, let me take you home," Hotch sighed, rubbing your arm gently. He held you tightly, steering you towards the exit, when Reid stopped you.

"Y/N?" He croaked. You turned around, your bloodshot eyes meeting his. He made his way over to you, and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You welled up at the physical contact, knowing how he hated and usually avoided hugs. "It's gonna be okay," He whispered, squeezing you gently. You pulled away, and simply looked at him, before you grabbed onto Hotch and made your way to his SUV.

The whole ride back to your apartment was spent in silence, tears silently spilling down your face. You turned to gaze out the window, wondering if things would've been different had you been honest with her. Would she have felt the same? Now, you'd never know. You continued to ignore Hotch's sympathetic glances. You made your way up to your apartment, Hotch following you inside. You took a deep breath, seeing the pictures of you and your team on your hallway shelves, knowing that things would never be the same. Hotch picked up on this and rested his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you want me to stay? I don't know how comfortable I feel leaving you alone, in this frame of mind." He said, in a concerned tone. You broke from your trance, turning your back to the pictures, now facing Hotch.

"I- Uh, no- no, I'll be okay. I really just need to be alone, I think," You whispered, avoiding his eyes because you knew if you looked at him, you'd crumble.

"Okay, but promise me you'll call me, or Rossi, if you need anything at all, regardless of the time," He told you, still looking at you like you were some lost puppy.

"I uh, I will Hotch, thank you," You replied, seeing him out. The second you closed the door, you fell against it, letting out a loud wail. You felt crushed by your raw grief and overwhelming regret, your heart tearing to shreds.

You eventually found the strength to pick yourself off the floor, and made your way to your bedroom. You removed your clothing, and fumbled in your drawer for some pyjamas, when you found an old t-shirt. Immediately, your heart sank, realising that it wasn't one of yours - it was one of Emily's, that she'd accidentally left after your last girls night. You covered your mouth shakily, the realisation that she was gone sinking in further. You tearfully slipped on a nightshirt, picked up her t-shirt, and crawled under your covers. You briefly glanced at your nightstand, eyes misting at the picture of you and Emily at your birthday party earlier in the year. You brought the t-shirt up to your face, inhaling her scent. The smell of red wine and gentle lavender filled your lungs, and you began to cry hysterically into the fabric, trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating, and failing miserably. You eventually became dehydrated, unable to cry any more. You went numb, wondering how you were supposed to move forward without your best friend. You lay shaking, clutching the t-shirt for dear life, as you cruelly dreamt of the life you'd never have. A life spent loving Emily Prentiss...

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emilyprentiss #angst #i’m not sorry #cried writing this #emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #bau team

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ruewrites · 3 years

Note

Hii! so i really love Dialuci and i wanted to request a fic about them. I like the 5 things + 1 thing trope but i saw that u already have a fic like that, so if you dont wanna use i understand, i just want a cute Dialuci fic bc they are adorable 💖

5 Times Diavolo Felt a Little Less Alone

AO3

Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi Anon! I’m always down for 5+1 requests! I hope you like this! I’m still getting used to writing for this ship, but I had fun!

Diavolo’s fingers danced along the castle walls as he gazed at the fallen Morning Star. He was more than the prince could ever wish for, to ever hope for, and he was standing right there. Well, sitting. He’d met Lucifer before, but he’d never seen him this worn. It was understandable, but still.

Gripping his nerves, Diavolo decided to approach him once more. Lucifer’s eyes swept up towards the movement and the Prince suddenly was all too aware of his heart pounding away in his chest.

“May I take this seat?” he asked.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then he nodded, “I suppose you can.”

He was a bit more eager than he’d like to admit at the ‘okay’. He wanted to turn the Devildom into a home for Lucifer and his brothers, to make them all feel comfortable. He wanted them to want to stay.

Lucifer regarded him oddly, almost as if he couldn’t make out Diavolo’s intentions. Which was fair by all means. Perhaps he wasn’t setting the most appropriate of moods, but he found himself giddy at the mere thought of sitting close to the Morning Star. Even if the circumstances that brought them together once more were grim, he was still happy that he got to see him again.

“Can I get you some tea?”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted something to calm Lucifer or his own nerves. He’d have Barbatos bring every type out that he could find. He wanted to give Lucifer the widest variety of options that he could. He wanted to give Lucifer anything that he could.

“I suppose that would be nice,” Lucifer seemed hesitant. It was understandable of course, but Diavolo was already summoning Barbatos. He was going to make the Devildom home for Lucifer.

***

Diavolo loved parties. They filled the castle up with people and laughter and music. Things Diavolo wished there had been more of as he was growing up. Even so, sometimes the parties still felt lonely. Others wouldn’t address him the same way they addressed each other. It made sense, he was the Devildom’s prince. They had to treat him with respect.

He could act like one of them.

But he couldn’t be one of them.

His fingers tightened around his glass.

“Lord Diavolo, are you quite alright?” Lucifer was staring at him. Lucifer’s attention was on him.

He forced a laugh and put his hand on his shoulder, “Of course! Why would I be anything other than okay?

Lucifer’s brow furrowed and his lip twitched. He didn’t believe a word that had just come out of Diavolo’s mouth. Lucifer was the eldest of his brothers and the one that kept them in line, he knew when he was being lied to.

But before he could get a word out, Diavolo was already spewing more words at him. “I mean, just look at everyone out there having a grand time! There’s nothing to be disappointed about when there’s so many smiling faces,” he said, “In fact, shouldn’t you be out there enjoying yourself too?”

Getting Diavolo to try to go back to their previous discussion would be like taking Cerberus to the vet. So Lucifer played along, for now.

“I don’t believe I will, I have a perfect vantage point of my brothers from here.”

“Vantage-?”

Diavolo glanced out to where Lucifer was nodding. The rest of the six were all in perfect view with a slight turn of the head. He shouldn’t be surprised, Lucifer always had to make sure his brothers were on his best behavior. Well, Diavolo didn’t necessarily think that Lucifer had to per say, it was something he just did.

“So if it’s quite alright with you, I think I’m content on staying right here.”

For the first time that night, Diavolo felt himself relax and offer a genuine smile, “Of course.”

***

He knew it was late, but come on. Diavolo tapped the back of his D.D.D. restlessly as he listened to the line ring. Sure he could send a text, but he just wanted to hear someone else’s voice for a moment. Just a moment. Then he would be content.

He was about to hang up and redial again when a tired voice came up on the other end of the line.

“Diavolo? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Part of him felt bad when he heard Lucifer yawn on the other end of the line, but his heart also leapt at the sound of his voice. Lucifer had a strange affect on him, and Diavolo was addicted to the sensation. It filled a void that rested deep within him, and he didn’t want that space to ever be vacant again.

“Ah, I apologize Lucifer. I just had something I wanted to tell you,” he stopped. Well, that phrase wasn’t completely a lie. He was sorry, but he didn’t have anything to say. “But it all seems to be slipping my mind right now.”

Silence flooded the other end of the line. A sigh entered his ear. “Diavolo- Send me a text when you remember then. You can always tell me to-”

“Wait.”

He could feel Lucifer hesitate. He could practically see the way his eyebrow raised, how his arms would fold if he wasn’t holding his D.D.D. He could feel the way he analyzed him, looking for the smallest bit of truth, the tiniest give away in his being. His words died at his lips, his normal forms of begging and pleading refused to come out.

He didn’t want to be alone.

Not right now.

Not ever.

“Please don’t go.”

His voice came out so small. It didn’t fit him. Normally his presence was powerful and captivating, but not he felt like the smallest breeze could blow him away. The ticking of his clock started to flood his mind, drawing out any other possible thought he could have had.

Time stretched out in odd ways Diavolo couldn’t comprehend, and there was only one thing that brought him back.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay on the line, just don’t mind if you hear snoring. Now, what do you want to tell me?”

***

“Oh Lucifer! Look at this!”

Humans had such odd little things, but they were also incredibly dear. Who would have thought about making tiny clothes for animals? Adorable!

Diavolo held up a small yellow raincoat and pushed it into Lucifer’s face, “You should see if you can get a big one for Cerberus.

“Cerberus will be fine without,” yet his eyes lingered on the small outfit for a moment too long. A smile cracked at his lips, “I do believe I know a certain chihuahua it might fit though.”

Lucifer chuckled to himself as Diavolo continued to gaze at the little treasures that decorated the walls. “Oh they even have little rain boots! It’s a shame they don’t have anything bigger. Human dogs are just so tiny. And they don’t have nearly enough heads. They’re still just as lovable though.”

His hands moved to the bones and a frown spread across his face, “These are hardly fit for a dog.”

“On that front I agree with you. Not bloody enough.”

“Not big enough.”

“And they hardly look study.”

“It would barely function as a toothpick!”

“And no meat either.”

“It’s sad really.”

“Trully.”

The human world was different from the Devildom, very different. Diavolo could honestly say he’d never experienced something quite like it before. Everytime he thought he had it figured out something new popped out from around the corner. What made the entire thing even more wonderful was having someone to share it with.

He peered at Lucifer from the corner of his eye. Before he knew what was happening, the warmth of Lucifer's lower back was pressed against his hand. Lucifer stiffened ever so slightly. Then his muscles relieved themselves of their tension.

The Demon Prince had someone to share his experiences with.

***

This was an ethereal experience. It wasn’t something he could take lightly. This was a sign of trust. This was so much bigger than him, and Diavolo wasn’t about to take it lightly. Lucifer’s naked back was to him, his blackened wings stretched out before him. Diavolo felt as if he could see every breath the Morning Star took, every heartbeat drowned out the ticking of the clock.

“Are you sure?” Diavolo wanted to give him one last chance to back out. This was something sacred and intimate, something that he knew must have Lucifer on edge.

Lucifer’s head nodded ever so slightly, “Just remember what I told you.”

Diavolo swore he could feel his hands shaking, anxiety curled around his stomach like a serpent the closer he came to the majestic sight before him. Then the soft silky texture brushed against his finger tips. He couldn’t help but admire them as he ran his fingers along their gradient.

Lucifer trusted him with this.

Lucifer wanted him to do this.

He could have teared up in that moment, He promised himself that he would forever hold this specific moment close to his heart.

Of course Lucifer’s wings wouldn’t preen themselves. “Tell me if I do anything wrong.”

Perhaps he’d gotten too close to Lucifer’s ear, maybe his breath had been a little too hot, maybe he shouldn’t have gazed at Lucifer’s reddening cheeks as long as he did. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. His right hand man trusted him. A man as wonderful and beautiful and radiant and intelligent as Lucifer trusted him. Diavolo was allowed into his life.

The room was dark, quiet, and safe.

Diavolo never wanted to share anything this intimate with anyone else.

***

The first thing Diavolo registered was how warm everything around him was and the fire softly crackling against the wall. Slowly his eyes peeled open and he sat up. After taking in his surroundings, he came to realize that he’d fallen asleep at his desk. Something quite unusual for him. He grabbed at the blanket around his shoulders as questions filled his brain.

“This is quite the role reversal isn’t it?”

Ah. Lucifer.

Diavolo hadn’t even noticed him.

A kiss was pressed against his cheek and a cup was set down onto the table. Spices immediately filled all of Diavolo’s senses flooding every corner of his head.

“Usually you’re the one doing things for me when I’ve been at my desk for too long, and now here we are.”

Diavolo brought the cup to his lips, enjoying the warmth against his skin, “It took so much for you to allow me to spoil you.”

“Not everyone in the world is as genuine as you Diavolo, and affection isn’t something I’ve been particularly used to.”

Lucifer’s hands soared over the desk as he started to organize various papers and documents. Honestly, at this point Lucifer was probably almost as skilled as Barbatos when it came to organizing Diavolo’s desk. Diavolo liked watching him work, it almost reminded him of a dance. Watching Lucifer was always a wonderful time, it was a treat. Perhaps domestic was the correct word.

“I believe you’ve told me before that there’s more comfortable places to relax than a desk.”

“Like plush chairs by the fireplace?”

“I do believe you mentioned those, yes,” Lucifer took his hand and helped him up, “Join me?”

Diavolo had gotten a taste of company all those years ago, and now he constantly lived in company. His old self would be envious of what he had now. As long as he had Lucifer he wouldn’t be lonely, he’d have warm nights and bright days. There would always be a reason to make a second cup of tea or to bring two plates to the study. His things would sit next to Lucifer’s, they could have long conversations or comforting silence, and the chair next to him would never be empty.

Finally Diavolo had someone to share his life with.

Finally life wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

#ruewrites #anon #request #anon request #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #diavolo x lucifer #dialuci #5+1 things #5+1 fic #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

Note

hey idk if you’re doing requests but if you are can you give us the fluffy kai and lloyd sibling content we deserve?? like ummm maybe kai helping lloyd to do homework or something even tho they don’t go to school lmao 😂 i just need something pure :)

i am so very behind on replies but!! in my defense, i started a response for this, got about 10K words in, then realized i needed to give it an actual structure. this is not the 10K words one, but it is, technically, fluffy Kai and Lloyd sibling content? i hope it’s something along the lines of what you wanted :’D

Lloyd decides he wants his ear pierced at three forty-five in the debatable hours of the morning, which isn’t the oddest thing Lloyd has ever decided he desires at that time. But it isn’t usual, either, so Kai decides he probably does, at least, need to ask what brought this on as he begins superheating the edge of the needle so neither of them end up with tetanus, or something.

He’s a responsible brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to tell Lloyd no. That would require Kai pretending his own piercing never existed, which is impossible, since Lloyd was the one to help him out back when it got infected and Kai almost lost his entire upper ear.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “You were just being a baby about it.”

“Oh yeah?” Kai shoots back. “Look who’s talking. I haven’t even touched your ear yet and you’re already wincing.”

“You’re taking forever,” Lloyd says testily. “Why can’t you just pierce it already?”

“Excuse me for trying to make it look good,” Kai says. “But if you really want an off-center piercing, be my guest.”

“No, no, make it look good,” Lloyd protests, straightening where he’s sitting across the bedroom floor from Kai.

Fortunately, they’re in the monastery tonight, otherwise they’d be crammed into the bathroom, or wherever else in the Bounty they wouldn’t wake everyone up. They’ve stashed away in Lloyd’s room, since he’s the furthest from Zane and therefore the least likely to be caught, if something goes wrong. Not that anything’s going to go wrong, of course, but you can never be sure, with them.

“Where’d you want it, again?” Kai asks, as he squints at the tiny earring stud they scavenged from Nya’s bag. He figures she’d support this as a worthy cause enough not to mind. Hopefully.

“On the right side?” Lloyd drums his fingers on the edge of his knee, a bit anxiously. “I sleep on my left more often, so yeah, the right. Just — just the normal ear piercing, for now.”

“For now, huh,” Kai mutters, carefully measuring out rubbing alcohol over the earring, before deciding to drown it in the bottle, for good measure.

“Well, I might decide I want another,” Lloyd crosses his arms. He winces. “Unless Sensei or the others kill me for this, first.”

“Lloyd, if piercing your ear is the worst thing you ever do as a teen, I’ll give you all the piercings you want myself,” Kai says. “And if anybody gives you trouble about it, just make some snarky comment, like, ah—”

“An earring is better to be stabbed with than a knife?”

“…FSM’s sake,” Kai sighs, staring at the bottle of rubbing alcohol and briefly entertaining how it’d taste. “Sure. Why not.”

Lloyd doesn’t look entirely reassured, even with his fun little jokes. “It is better than being stabbed with a knife, right?” he asks. “Like, I can do knife-stab pain, but I was kinda hoping it wouldn’t hurt that bad, you know…?”

Kai rolls his eyes. “It’ll hardly hurt at all,” he assures him, as he reaches for the little cotton balls and soaking one in alcohol. “I promise. You’re a ninja. With the pain tolerance you have, you’re probably not even gonna feel it.”

“Uh-huh, if you say — hey!” Lloyd flinches back from his hand, eyes wide in betrayal.

“Would you relax, it’s just the alcohol,” Kai frowns, going for his ear with the cotton ball again.

Lloyd makes a face, but lets him dab the alcohol on this time. “It’s cold,” he complains.

“Keep whining about it and we’re going back to the clip-on earring plan.”

“No, no, I want them pierced,” Lloyd says quickly. Kai smothers a laugh at how he attempts to appear relaxed, swiping the cotton ball over his earlobe once more for good measure. Satisfied that Lloyd, at least, won’t suffer any immediate crippling infections, Kai grabs for the needle they’re using, soaking the tip in alcohol.

“You…you know what you’re doing, right?” Lloyd asks, suddenly apprehensive now that the needle’s come into play.

“Of course I do, who do you think I am?” Kai says. “I pierced Nya’s ears when she was younger. I would’ve pierced Jay’s the first week we met, but he chickened out last minute.”

Lloyd presses his lips together, hiding a laugh. “If you’d come up to me with a needle the first week we met, I probably would’ve booked it, too.”

“I wasn’t bad,” Kai huffs, kneeing him in the side.

Lloyd runs a hand through his hair, spiking the edges up as he scowls, pitching his voice deeper. “I’m gonna be the green ninja, and none of you losers better get in the way—”

“I never said that!” Kai exclaims, swatting Lloyd across the head as he cackles. “You watch it, or I might slip up with the needle.”

“Sounds like something a green gi-stealer would say.”

“You’re such a brat,” Kai grumbles, hiding the heat rising in his cheeks by busying himself with the earring packaging. “I never sounded like that. And you’re one to talk, with that squeaky little evil laugh you used to do.”

“Alright, I’m dropping it, I’m dropping it,” Lloyd says hastily, his teasing faltering at the threat of turning the tables.

Kai smirks, shaking his head. “Alright,” he says, flexing his wrist once. “I’m gonna ice your ear so it’s numb, then do the actual piercing. You want a count down?”

“Surprise me,” Lloyd says, his hands fisting anxiously in the edges of his sweatshirt.

“Sure thing,” Kai nods absently. “So,” he starts conversationally, as he presses the ice to the back of Lloyd’s ear. “What did bring this on? And don’t give me the teen rebellion thing — seriously, this time.”

Lloyd hesitates, then sighs. He bites his lip, his eyes staring somewhere beyond the ceiling. “I dunno,” he mutters. “I just remembered, the other day, that I’d thought they were super cool as a kid.”

Kai stifles the urge to remind him that he’s still a kid, and continues to listen instead, nodding at him to go on.

Lloyd makes a face. “I don’t know. The mission today was — it was dumb, and I didn’t like how I felt afterwards, so I guess I wanted to do something stupid.”

“Ah,” Kai exhales quietly. He’d had a feeling it was about the mission, but he couldn’t be sure. It hadn’t even been that bad, on the whole, but the sound of Cole’s head cracking against the floor was enough to escalate it right into terrible territory.

Kai’s still thanking his stars that Cole’s got such a thick head. Concussions aren’t fun, even when they do have the chance to treat them immediately.

“I just…I thought maybe it’d be nice to mess up on purpose, for once,” Lloyd continues, his voice quiet. “When I wasn’t trying not to.”

Kai’s frown deepens at that one, his hand hovering where he’s caught the edge of Lloyd’s ear, his thumb pressed against the end of the needle. His sudden concerns over Lloyd’s potentially earring-destroying, Oni/dragon blood are swept away by the plaintively depressing tone Lloyd’s using. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, hesitating.

He understands the sentiment, of course — probably too well to really put into words. Kai’s not exactly a stranger to messing up. He’s definitely not a stranger to beating yourself up after you mess up, either. He also understands, too well, how it can all build up sometimes — the constant fear of failure, the pressure not to mess up.

Sometimes you’re just struck with the irrational desire to mess up on purpose out of pure spite. Kai gets that. And Lloyd’s at least rational enough to pick something that won’t hurt anyone, and is more likely to get a laugh out of them all, if anything. Kai tries not to roll his eyes fondly.

Plus, Kai would be lying if he said it doesn’t warm his heart that Lloyd’s come to him for it. Which he should, of course, Kai’d better have first dibs on Lloyd’s first piercing, but still. The sentiment, and all.

“Well,” Kai finally says, realizing he’s left Lloyd hanging. “I don’t know about messing up, because this looks pretty rad. But it was definitely your call, so remember to tell Sensei that when he sees it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lloyd takes a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Okay, I’m ready. Stab my ear, Kai.”

“I already did, moron. Did you miss what I just said?”

Lloyd’s eyes pop open, and he blinks. “Huh? For real?”

“Told you,” Kai snorts. “Ninja pain tolerance. Ear piercing’s got nothing on Cole when he scores a hit on you in practice.”

Lloyd’s frozen for a moment, then he scurries over to the mirror, brushing his lengthening hair away so he can get a proper look at it. Kai hovers behind him, suddenly slightly anxious.

“Do you, um, do you like it? You can always take it out, if you don’t. It’ll close over on its own, and you can like, get an actual professional to do it—”

“Shut up, Kai, I love it,” Lloyd beams, tracing his finger over the little silver stud. “I look cool.”

Kai lets out a tiny breath of relief, smirking in satisfaction instead. “As close to cool as you can get, beansprout.”

“Whatever,” Lloyd rolls his eyes, before returning to admiring himself in the mirror. “You’re just jealous I have a super cool piercing, and you don’t.”

“Hey, I gave you that piercing,” Kai scowls. “Just wait until my ear finally heals, I’ll show you cool.”

“Gee, yeah, I can’t wait to see what cheap skull earring you infect yourself with this time.”

“Alright buddy, you’re toeing it dangerously close to the line,” Kai grabs Lloyd in a headlock, digging his knuckles into Lloyd’s thick hair as he yelps, struggling to pull himself free.

“Ow, hey, Kai, watch my ear—”

“Little jerk,” Kai finally releases him with a huff.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me forever,” Lloyd replies, making a face as he brushes his hair back into place.

“Plenty of time to watch you make more mistakes, then,” Kai replies, easily.

Lloyd briefly tenses up, his expression working. Kai slings an arm around his shoulder, briefly squeezing.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lloyd,” he says, gently. “Cole’s gonna tell you the same thing, ten times over.”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Lloyd murmurs, staring at the rug. “I got it.”

Kai eyes him for a brief moment, then shakes his head, carefully flicking the edge of his ear. “This, however? Is definitely your fault. So don’t go selling me out when Sensei bites your head off for it.”

“I’m not a sellout,” Lloyd huffs. “This’ll be nothing. Wait ’til you see what he says about my tattoo, that’ll be the real meltdown.”

Kai barks a laugh out at that, sweeping the cotton balls back into the bag. He then pauses, Lloyd’s word choice hitting him.

“Hey, what do you mean, your tattoo.”

“Oh, would you look at the time—”

“Lloyd, I swear to FSM, if you went and got a tattoo without me—”

#answered #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #tumblr pleASE format this right for once #my fic #bees-go-buzz

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newbornwhumperfly · 3 years

Text

parting...

CW: kidnapping, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, stockholm syndrome, self harm (very brief), self-hatred, possessiveness, captivity, imprisonment, references to torture/abuse, fear of death

i wrote this all in a haze and emerged with a small offering, @whump-me-all-night-long!!! please accept a humble slice of self-indulgence cause this ask wouldn’t let me go until i wrote something - i love diamond so much & they deserve the world 💖💖💖

title refers to when a gemstone fractures along structural weak points! (yes, i am that pretentious)

Diamond had kept from breaking through the week of hell.

Through all the pain - inflicted by those who had no right to hurt them in such a way - and the bone-deep terror, the panic and temptation to submit, they did not break. When they were rescued and swept off by black-suited people they knew the sight of well, they did not cry or collapse.

Not on the long drive back.

Not when they were pulled from the backseat and held between two men, half-dragged, half-marched through grand corridors, through doorways and rooms they couldn’t keep track of.

But now, seeing him again, striding down the hall towards them, they break.

“Sir-” Diamond whimpered, their weak knees finally folding, sagging, as they tried to crumple to the ground between the henchmen’s arms. They are released and they fully collapse, crawling as fast as they can to Jeweler’s feet. Terror is thick, frozen jagged in their veins and everything is too cold, too sharp, too broken, cutting them open inside and bleeding out cold and ruin and they are so, so scared.

A memory echoes through them, that the lowest circle of hell is ice - reserved for those who betray. They didn’t betray him, they didn’t...but what if being touched by someone else is enough of a crime? Their damnation chills them to the bone regardless.

They want to throw their arms around his ankles, to cling to his clothes, plead with their body. But they don’t want to touch their savior without permission so they settle for groveling at his feet, their raggedly shorn hair - their beautiful white locks clipped away by cruel scissors - brushing the tips of Jeweler’s gleaming black shoes. Sullying. They are dirtied by someone else’s hands.

A spike of icy fear drives deeper into their heart and they thrust their hands out, clasped, shaking violently even clenched - “I didn’t try to leave, I didn’t, I swear, I swear, I swear I’d never try to go, never, please, I promise, please-”

They choke on a high-pitched wail, ringing out in the cavernous study, too loud where their ears are ringing out all other noise but their own wracking sobs, ugly, graceless in their brokenness. They grind their forehead against the stone, lift up and fall back down, smacking their sullied skin against the floor, their skull rings-

“Diamond, enough.”

They feel hands on their head, holding it still - a soft touch anchoring them where the storm of panic batters their heart - and they launch towards their owner, pressing their tear-stained, bruised face into his hand. That delicate, kind hand strokes through their ruined hair and they collapse again, dragging themself forward to press their mouth to their master’s feet, hands gripping the hem of silk pants without even thinking and- and they’re getting spit and tears on his shoes!

Their hands are clammy and there’s blood, they were damaging his property by bruising their forehead, fuck, nononobadbadbad-

Their breath rockets out fast and sharp and shallow and then they are being pulled up and into the circle of their owner’s arms.

“Shh, there, there-”

“Please- please let me be yours-” Diamond moans, frantic, fingers tangling in the lapels of his jacket almost without thought. “I know someone, someone else t-touched me, but- I can still be good for you, please k-keep me-”

“Shh,” Sir murmurs, still stroking their ruined hair, “I knew you wouldn’t try to leave me, my dear, I know they took you away from me.”

Diamond hears a note of fire in his usually cool voice and they whimper. Jeweler holds them even closer, still soothing, still comforting them as they shake violently against his chest. They bury their face against the silky fabric, breathing in the subtle richness of their cologne. He smells and feels like home.

They shudder again when sir’s fingers snag a tangle in their now-short hair and they cannot help but catch their breath, cold tingling through their limbs. They want to stay hidden in the dark folds of silk and perfume and quiet forever, held by their owner, their jeweler and kept safe and unharmed or just- Just kept. That would be enough.

But Jeweler pulls back after a few minutes, cupping their wet face, thumbing away the tears as their black, gleaming eyes search Diamond’s face. They feel pinned, helpless to move as their facets are held up to the light of his probing gaze.

He sees the bruises, delicately brushes his fingertips over the blues and blacks and browns marring Diamond’s perfect flesh. Diamond knows - they saw in the mirrored surface of the black car which drove them home. The black eye might as well be a pockmark, their split lip feels like a crack in their very heart. But the worst offense of all - a handprint, no longer stinging red but stark yellow and green, the mottled bruises throbbing against Diamond’s pale skin.

“Oh, my darling,” he murmurs, the lilt lifting them up from the darkness again. Diamond’s insides shrivel at the keen gaze, at how it lays them open, at the ice beneath the concern in their owner’s eyes. He brushes a stray wisp of hair, dangling like torn lace, from over Diamond’s eyes so he can see the swelling that they can feel, a hot pulse blooming on their brow. “You’ve been damaged.”

Cold floods the cracks in their cracking heart, spread like water over ice. The water spills over through their eyes, rushes in their ears. They want to scrape off their skin, grow fresh unsoiled flesh that had only been marked before by him.

Why would he want them? Why would he keep them? They know they’re ruined but they don’t want to be set free. They don’t want to, they aren’t ready, they- they can be good! They draw in breaths in like knives, welcoming the punishing slices of air in their lungs, drowning dry, choking on tears, fear floods their lungs and stomach. They let go of Jeweler and tear at their ruined hair, their ruined skin-

They cry out as their wrists are gripped, pulled away from lashing at their own body. They are still at the pressure, their breaths pulling jaggedly, in and out, but no longer frantic when familiar firm touch cups their marked face, a casing of iron around their fracturing shards. They blinked back their tears and the Jeweler’s face swam before them, his touch the only solid thing.

“Look at me, Diamond.”

Even as they choked on their tears, they obey - they will always obey - and are held as still by his unyielding gaze as by his hands around their head.

“You are mine, darling. Only mine. And I promise you, that will never change.”

Diamond trembles in place before the words come together, their pieces falling into their owner’s hands, and they will be kept. They collapse forward and the Jeweler catches them as their terror falls away from them, the anguish of the last days that felt like a lifetime dissolving, snow under the sun.

They aren’t ruined.

They can stay.

“Oh, thank you,” they sob, each breath clattering the frightened, broken edges of them inside less and less as Jeweler stroked a hand up and down their trembling back, as steady and powerful as the tide.

Diamond felt themself settling more and more with every touch, sinking into their master inexorably. Whatever strength kept them upright, awake, was slipping away and as they slumped listlessly, they felt Jeweler scoop them up. They curl against him as they feel themself being carried safely, deeper into their owner’s home, away from the world that isn’t safe, isn’t him, with every step.

“How about a bath, my dear, and some medicine for your bruises, hmm?”

“Yes- thank you, that- that sounds good, please-” Diamond slurs. Their tongue is as heavy as the rest of them, muscles thick and clumsy under their skin. The Jeweler hums and pulls them tighter. Some bruises throb at the pressure but they’d rather be hurt by the Jeweler then comforted by anyone else.

“Shhh - don’t fret, sweetheart - we’ll get you all cleaned up.”

As Diamond drifts, they feel a kiss brush their temple, pressure on where they bruised themself, and the little flare of pain is drowned by the warmth thrilling them down to their toes.

“I’ll make you good as new, my dear. Put back together again. My perfect Diamond.”

hope you enjoy some awfulness from a proud member of the diamond defense squad! 🥺🥺🥺

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loisinherlane · 2 years

Text

red being released last night made me go back to check please for a bit so here’s my thesis on how red is the kent/jack album

State of Grace - their actual relationship aka juniors

This is a state of grace This is the worthwhile fight Love is a ruthless game Unless you play it good and right These are the hands of fate You're my Achilles heel This is the golden age Of something good and right and real

Red - immediately after

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go But moving on from him is impossible When I still see it all in my head In burning red

Treacherous - towards the end

I can't decide if it's a choice Getting swept away I hear the sound of my own voice Asking you to stay All we are is skin and bone Trained to get along Forever going with the flow But you're friction

I Knew You Were Trouble - reevaluating babey!!!

No apologies, he'll never see you cry Pretends he doesn't know that he's the reason why You're drowning, you're drowning, you're drowning And I heard you moved on from whispers on the street A new notch in your belt is all I'll ever be And now I see, now I see, now I see

I Almost Do - this is actually jack -> kent but still

I bet you think I either moved on or hate you 'Cause each time you reach out, there's no reply I bet it never, ever occurred to you That I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

Stay Stay Stay - juniors again

You took the time to memorize me My fears, my hopes, and dreams I just like hanging out with you, all the time All those times that you didn't leave, it's been occurring to me I'd like to hang out with you, for my whole life

The Last Time - Parse I-III

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore

Sad Beautiful Tragic - the way neither of them quite know how it ended

In dreams, I meet you in warm conversation And we both wake in lonely beds, different cities And time is taking its sweet time erasing you And you've got your demons And darling, they all look like me

The Lucky One - literally mutual envy but this is kent’s view of how he’s kind of. stuck.

Now, it's big black cars and Riviera views And your lover in the foyer doesn't even know you And your secrets end up splashed on the news front page And they tell you that you're lucky, but you're so confused 'Cause you don't feel pretty, you just feel used And all the young things line up to take your place

Begin Again - whenever kent finally accepts it’s over and has to face how jack made him feel

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

Better Man - look!!!! i’m just saying everything we know about hear about how jack treated kent points to JACK being mean to him!!!!

I waited on every careless word Hoping they might turn sweet again Like it was in the beginning

But your jealousy, oh, I can hear it now Talking down to me like I'd always be around

Babe - idk how to describe my thoughts here but like... the end. it’s messy.

You really blew this, babe We ain't getting through this one, babe

I break down every time you call We're a wreck, you're the wrecking ball

Forever Winter - fucking!!! look at this!!!

All this time I didn't know You were breaking down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go

The Very First Night - how do you stop missing someoneeee?

We broke the status quo Then we broke each other's hearts But don't forget about the night out in L.A Dance in the kitchen, chase me down through the hallway No one knows about the words that we whisper No one knows how much I miss you

All Too Well (Ten Minute Version) - la pièce de résistance... all too well has literally always been my go-to kent -> jack song and now it has everything i wanted. deal with it. i stand by my interpretation that during their relationship, kent let himself take a backseat to boost jack up and that left some underlying resentment. also it’s mean and petty but i do think kent would side-eye the zimbits age gap a bit.

And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was

And there we are again when nobody had to know You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath Sacred prayer and we'd swear To remember it all too well, yeah

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest

The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened, you That's what happened, you You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?

#megan's fan posts #nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn i'm feral about kent parson again i'm sorry

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backalley-requests · 3 years

Text

The Proposal | Chapter Two

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: Mild swearing, dickish behavior

Word Count: 2,085

That’s how you found yourself sitting down for a meeting next to your boss, pretending the two of you were in love and set to get married. You were more outwardly nervous than him and your leg was bouncing. It made a quiet but consistant tap on the floor.

“Will you cut that out,” Ivar snapped.

You stopped bouncing your foot and glared at him. “I’m nervous.” It wasn’t a voluntary action but it helped with the nerves. Your head tilted up to the ceiling. The office was small and the two of you sat in chairs next to each other. Across from you was an empty desk. The case worker wasn’t here yet. Was this normal? It was 10 am but felt much earlier, and the silence was so loud. The two of you never had normal conversations.

“Don’t be, it’s annoying.”

Did he expect you to remain a calm worker under these conditions? It wasn’t like he could fire you. Both of you risked losing if you didn’t stick around. It felt like a sick game of chicken. “How can I not be? We’re here because you—“

The conversation was cut short by the metal door opening. It felt like a prison, as if the two of you were being detained and Ivar didn’t even want to discuss a game plan. He had actually rolled his eyes when you asked for one.

The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, his hair was short and his face shaven. “Shall we begin?” He lacked pleasantries and it only added to your growing paranoia. There was no handshake or introduction. The man jumped into it. Immediately you felt yourself zoning in and out. Half the time you were thinking too much to listen and the other half was spent committing it to memory.

Ivar nodded confidently, evening out to a neutral. How were you supposed to project that same level of confidence? He appeared so unbothered and you stuck out like a sore thumb. The interviewer took notice. “Step one will be a scheduled interview and I’ll ask you every little question a real couple would know about each other.”

That was easy. You already knew way too much about the man. He shoved off too much personal responsibilities onto you that he didn’t want to do. You even wrote his Christmas cards at this point.

“Step two, I dig deeper, I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, interview your coworker.”

The two of you didn’t have a story. The two of you communicated often for work but they weren’t out to anyone. Well— technically the two of you didn’t have a relationship to be out about. You glance over at Ivar who didn’t bother to look back at you. He seemed so eerily calm while all you could do was panic.

You were pretty sure you missed something important by the time you glanced back to the interviewer. Did you miss his name? Did he even offer one? Your leg began to bounce again.

“If your answers don’t match up at every point. You will be deported indefinitely,” he looked at Ivar, “and you will have committed a felony. Punishable by a fine of 250,000 dollars and a stay of 5 years in federal prison.” His gaze turned to you and you froze.

The sound of your heart beating drowned out whatever the man said next. It didn’t take long for both men to notice. You were in too deep. You couldn’t do this! Why did you even bother agreeing?

“Y/N?” The interviewer asked.

You couldn’t handle prison. You never even got into a fight before in your life. You’ve seen prison shows, they’re always fighting. They’d eat you alive.

“Y/N, do you want to talk to me?”

Ivar elbowed you harsh but discreetly. His blue eyes were intense and it brought you back to your reality. You had already spent three years working for him. Another two at the company. Being fired wasn’t an option and you’ve been dying to get promoted since you came there. If you could pull it off... what’s three years on paper? You blinked and nodded your head.

“You do?”

“Wait no— I mean I don’t.” You took a deep breath and held it. This man had to see right through it from the moment he walked in.

“The truth is…” you glanced at Ivar, “we’re just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love. But we did. Six months ago. We weren’t going to come out to our coworkers, not until we didn’t think they’d judge us,” your face was red and you found yourself staring down into your lap as you played with your fingers. “Especially with my promotion coming up.”

You paused, trying to see if what you said convinced him at all. “So, have either of you told your parents about your… secret love?” The interviewer wrote down notes onto a notepad.

“Oh, um, impossible. My parents are dead,” you admitted casually with an awkward laugh. “No brothers or sisters either. You can check if you want—“

“I will.”

The silence was deafening.

“What about you, Ivar? Are yours dead?”

Ivar scoffed at the mention of his family. It was clear to you that on some level he truly thought he was above being here. How could he be so casual?

You decided to cut in, “no. We were going to tell them this weekend. It’s his father’s birthday. The whole family is coming together. We thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Once the lies began it was hard to stop them. But the event was true but Ivar’s attendance wasn’t. He had you tell them he wasn’t going. But as you spoke you got more confident.

“And where exactly is this going to take place?” The man was quizzing you.

“Aalborg, Denmark. It’s located along Kattegat Bay,” you replied. Ivar’s face twitched in surprise that you knew it at all. Your face never quite calmed down and kept a pinkish hue.

The interviewer stared intently at you, searching for signs.

“That’s right,” Ivar cut in, trying to save you.

“Isn’t Denmark a little far?”

“Well it’s not like I have a visa to lose at this point,” Ivar rolled his eyes.

The interviewer shrugged. “Next Friday at 10am, I expect you both to be here for the scheduled interviews.”

—

“What was your fucking problem? You may as well have worn a sign that we’re trying to commit a felony?”

You were floored. Did he actually want to start things off like this. “Like you were much better? You looked pissed off and detached! If you wanted better results maybe you should’ve interjected more.”

“It was fun to watch you flounder until I realized your actions have consequences,” he shrugged casually. What was wrong with him? “And now Mr. Harold Millington is going to be lurking through my family.” Oh that’s what the man’s name was. Had it shared that? Did you actually miss it?

“Just tell your family then. Have them lie.” If they were anything like Ivar then being manipulative should be in their nature.

Ivar rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “They wouldn’t agree to it.” It meant they had to go. That created the new fact that you had sentenced the both of them on a trip to Denmark. It was that or he gets sent home forever and you’re in federal prison. “How did you even know that?”

“Know what?”

“About my father’s birthday.”

“You had me send them condolences,” you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “I actually know a ton of things about you. It’s you who has a week to learn everything about me.”

He stood before you in his bitterness. He didn’t deny your statement. It was one thing to have marriage papers and never speak of it again for three years and another to pretend to his family that he was in an actual relationship. His mor had wanted it forever now. “Book the flights, since you’re so used to doing everything for me.”

You had a laundry list of people to contact and he expected you to book flights? Your gut instinct was to tell everyone the truth and convince them to lie to the authorities, but that seemed a little much to ask. “It’s your home, why don’t you book them?”

The two of you continued to bicker when the interviewer from earlier stepped out of the building. The two of you immediately silenced as Millington walked by, “remember. Deportation and federal prison. It’s not too late to come clean.”

The smug look on his face pissed you off. You watched the man walk further away and down the block. “I may not like you, Ivar, but I like you more than that guy,” you said bitterly as your eyes remained trained on the agent in the distance.

“At least we agree on that.”

“I want him to feel like a moron.”

“So then let’s do that,” Ivar’s words caught your attention as you glanced back to him. “He knows the truth but if we make it rock solid he’ll have no choice. It’ll drive him insane.”

You laughed, “I probably should’ve guessed your favorite pass time was belittling people and making them regret their life choices.”

“I liked you better when you just delivered coffee,” Ivar responded. The same anger from earlier was gone but that didn’t stop Ivar from starting to walk away from you. You were left standing, irrationally angry at that decision. Civilities were out the window. He had nothing over you anymore. Neither could pull the plug. And he’s been on your nerves for a while. How did you ever find that man attractive?

“Goodbye to you too, asshole!”

—

“I’m coming back for the week,” Ivar held the phone to his ear, waiting for his mother’s response. If he was being honest he was actually a little nervous about it. He actually loved his mother. The rest of them were hit or miss. But he hadn’t been back home in a long time.

“Really?”

The excitement in her voice got to him, not that he’d confess it. “I was going to introduce my girlfriend to you guys.” He hated lying.

“You have a girlfriend?” He hadn’t even mentioned the idea of one to her in forever. Not since he left Denmark for the last time. She’d been pestering forever. “Since when did you get a girlfriend?”

“Mor—“ he took a deep breath and sighed, “she works for me.”

“Oh— so it’s one of those situations.”

Was she judging him already? “Just be prepared for her.” He noticed the dip in her voice and he bit hard on his bottom lip.

“Your father is going to be so happy to have you home.” Aslaug started to talk more about it. He was surprised she wasn’t fuming at the mention of his old man. It occurred to him then that maybe his family missed him more than he realized. She was already making plans, doting on him for finding someone and talking about how relieved she is that her son found someone. “Hey Ivar— is she beautiful?” He was brought out of his thoughts by the question.

Were you? He already knew the answer. You were. It wasn’t a crazy thought. Ivar always thought you were beautiful. From the moment you walked into his office the first day holding a cup of his favorite coffee— how you ever found out before meeting him he’ll never know. It’s what told him you were beyond him. There was a hint of too much perfection that he had immediately felt anger. That anger eventually settled to annoyance.

But if he actually hated you he probably would’ve fired you by now. The issue is that you’d never genuinely go for him. He had his own love life of sorts, money speaks for itself, he could get laid. What he couldn’t get was more, who would genuinely date him? It was easier to resent than pine.

“Yes.”

Aslaug laughed on the other end, “you took a little long there to respond, Ivar.”

“Sorry— she is, mor, I’m just busy with some work. I’ll call you before the plane leaves.”

“Please do. Oh, and Ivar, dear. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #Vikings #the proposal #I feel like it’ll have to start picking up soon #but I kinda like some moments #I really woke up at 5pm today huh....

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wallgirl · 3 years

Text

The Little Nereid Part 15

(Beta version)

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 3,100

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 20 parts total.

Violence at the final paragraph in this chapter.

---

The flames coiled around every fiber of her being. She was completely consumed in the blue blaze as each lick seared into her. It was as if her skin was absorbing them, and she felt them roaring through her veins, engulfing her in agony. She screamed, but her voice was completely drowned out by the sound of the fire. One moment was torture; two moments became hell.

Then, as quickly as it had immersed her, the fire dissipated, withering to down to tiny blue embers. Dynamene staggered to her feet in the now-empty cauldron. The pain was not only gone, but it was as if she had never suffered it in the first place. Her skin felt abuzz with new energy.

The witch beamed at her. "Come on out, dear. Take a look at your new self." She pulled a dusty full-length mirror out from behind one armoire.

Dynamene carefully stepped out and stood before the glass. Someone that she'd known only in her dreams stared back at her.

She was still herself, but in the best way; she had no other words to describe it. Her skin was radiant and free of any tiny flaw, though her speckling of freckles remained. The long locks of dark hair that flowed down past her shoulders were busy rearranging themselves back into smooth braids; not a split-end or loose hair to be found. Her curved eyelashes feathered out like the fine hairs of a paintbrush. And the contours of her body had changed as well - her waist slightly tucked in, and the burgeoning curves above and below more defined.

"This is... I'm beautiful," she whispered in awe. She wiped away the dust to get a better look at herself. Only in her fantasies had she ever looked this way... So familiar, and yet so perfect.

"Aren't you? So gorgeous, but still yourself. Subtle, intricate magic. Of course, before you get carried away..." The witch held up a finger. "This effect does not last forever. You have 24 hours before it begins to fade; after that, it will be completely gone within minutes."

Dynamene frowned in disappointment, gently tugging at one of her braids. "I see..."

"You'll have to work quickly, then. Use all of your resources." The witch chuckled at a sudden thought. "A little womanly charm will work well to your advantage. Oh, to see the look on his face..."

Dynamene finally pulled her gaze away from the mirror. "Womanly charm?"

"Flatter him, kiss him, seduce him, anything goes. Surely your sisters taught you about the weakness of men?" The witch jeered. "Whatever you do, make sure you do it within the time limit. I don't offer refunds if you can't manage the success on your own."

Although the thought of batting her eyelashes at Poseidon made her cringe, Dynamene pursed her lips with a steadfast gaze. Whatever it takes, right? "I understand. With your spell, I won't fail. I... I'll think of something." Could I really seduce him, though? That's...

"Good, good." The witch opened a closet and threw a rumpled chiton at her. "Now, here's something to cover yourself up. Those flames are merciless against fabric."

Dynamene gasped as she realized that she was completely bare, quickly clutching the offered chiton to her front. At least the bracelet remained on her wrist, if nothing else.

"You're good to go now. And once the wedding date is set, do remember to drop me a line. I love networking." The witch said something unintelligible, and the mirror before Dynamene had its glass replaced with a swirling portal. "Chop, chop."

Dynamene clumsily tied the straps of the chiton and straightened herself out. Before she went through the portal, she looked back at the witch with her gleaming white eyes and hag-like grin. "Thank you for all you've done. I won't forget it."

"I know, dearest," the witch cooed, watching intently as Dynamene disappeared through. "I know."

---

The portal had sent her several feet before the surface of the water in a familiar backdrop. The colorful corals and schools of fish were a welcome sight, indeed, after her adventure. She was just off the beach of Poseidon's palace.

Grinning with newfound anticipation, she broke through the surface and let the sun shine on her face. Things will go my way now.

Too impatient to swim, she hoisted herself up on the water's edge and ran across the gently sloping waves. The palace gleamed brilliant white in the late afternoon sunlight, a magnificent sight she'd never thought she'd so long to see. Fish began to gather under the surface of her steps, keeping pace with her sprint. They realized who she was, and she heard their voices echo up from under the water. The Nereid has been found; Dynamene has returned!

She felt a familiar presence surfacing fast ahead in response to the voice of the sea creatures, and she sprinted faster. That presence could only belong to...

Then he was before her, outfit dripping with seawater, his blond hair almost white in the light. "Dynamene?" His ever-so-stoic face was finally made mobile with surprise.

"Poseidon!" Dynamene cried, her steps splashing in the shallow waves. "Poseidon!"

He stared at her in disbelief, barely lifting his arms in time to catch her as she threw herself against him. He was so strong, the force didn't budge him an inch, but he leaned back a bit so it didn't feel like she was colliding with a statue.

"I'm so glad to see you again," she cried, burying her face against his chest. "I... I'm so glad to see you! It's really you!" I didn't know if I would get to be this close to you again.

His hands gripped her against him for a moment, as if he'd momentarily lost the battle against his emotions, before he moved her back to look at her face. "Do you know the mayhem you've caused?"

Her heart sank as she took in the rage in his eyes. He was upset enough that there was a certain tension about his lips, almost pursed together. "I'm sorry, my lord. I have no excuse. I let my emotions get the better of me, and..." She hung her head guiltily. "I know I've caused all of you pain and worry. It won't happen again."

"Worry?" He scoffed. "Don't think so highly of yourself." But his grip on her shoulders fell away, and one of his arms moved to wrap around her shoulders. "You feel colder than usual. Are you hurt?"

"I feel cold?" Dynamene blushed. "No, I'm fine, really!" She remembered the witch's advice, and braced herself. "I... I was fine the moment I saw you again." She resisted the strong urge to cover her face with her trembling hands.

He unexpectedly took her waist in his firm hands and lifted her up. Dynamene gasped in surprise. "Poseidon?"

Poseidon stared up at her with a scrutinizing gaze. He looked her over from head to toe, searching for anything out of place. "Do not ever do something like that again. Are we clear?"

Dynamene was surprised her heartbeat wasn't roaring in her ears. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out; not even a squeak. Can he tell that something's changed?

"I'm glad we have an understanding." He set her down, keeping an arm about her shoulders. "There's no reason to keep standing out here. Come along; we should return to the palace."

Dynamene bit her lower lip in joy as they stepped onto the beach together. Her sisters, who had begun to clamor around in confusion, broke into screams when they saw her.

"Dynamene! Dynamene!" They rushed around the two of them as the foam swept about their feet.

"Take her to her room and tend to her," Poseidon said shortly, almost pushing her into the arms of her sisters. "I must go. Word must be sent to Nereus and Doris immediately."

Dynamene turned back desperately to look at him as he swept away. "My lord-!"

"We will speak later, Dynamene," he said with a tone of finality. Dynamene bit her lower lip in confusion before allowing her siblings to rush her away into the palace.

Once he was out of earshot, the scolding began. "How could you do such a thing, Dynamene?!" One familiar voice accused.

Dynamene jumped. "Actaea?"

Actaea pushed to the forefront of the throng, her face lined with indignation. "Running off like that! How could you?! Ianeira was beside herself with despair!"

"I'm sorry, I really am!" Dynamene pleaded. "I just-" She froze momentarily. I can't tell them about where I went or what I did. I'll have to pretend that I was just fuming around the ocean somewhere. "I needed space to clear my head and consider what she'd said."

"Ah, yes. You were eavesdropping and overheard her discussion with Mother, I understand." Actaea shook her head in disbelief as she pulled Dynamene into her room away from the others and closed the door. "Which, as I was told, is not the first time you've done such a thing. Silly girl. Why?"

"I was letting my feelings get ahead of me." The words slipped out easier than Dynamene would've guessed. "But I took my time to stew, and I feel a lot better. Ianeira was right about what she said."

"Said... About what?" Actaea prodded her on, crossing her arms impatiently.

"What she said about pursuing Poseidon. That it's a horrible idea. And I came to the realization that she was right." The bare lie came off her tongue like hot butter. "I don't want to end up like Adamas. And who wants to put up with Poseidon's icy demeanor for eternity?"

Actaea sighed, her tense shoulders relaxing just a titch. "Well... If anyone was going to get through to you, I suppose Ianeira would. The position of eldest has always suited her." Actaea pushed back a lock of Dynamene's hair with a curious look. "How did you keep your hair so smooth this whole time?"

Dynamene smiled coolly. "I found a comb in a shipwreck." Maybe I can get used to these lies.

Actaea shook her head again, this time in amazement. "Taking care of your hair, too? And I could've sworn you were shorter before. Has our youngest sister become a true woman overnight?" She teased Dynamene playfully.

Dynamene exhaled with silent relief. "At long last," she replied, shrugging casually.

---

The rest of her sisters at the palace took turns throughout the day alternatively yelling at and fussing over her. Actaea was the only one who had returned from home to join the search here. The rest of the sisters, along with their parents, given the situation, would be coming to Poseidon's palace as soon as they received word that Dynamene was there. Upon learning this, she couldn't help but squirm. It was one thing to deceive her sisters, but her parents would be an entirely different matter. Once the message had reached them, they would surely be on their way at once. Given the timeframe, she would only have until morning to get Poseidon to make a decision.

She preened nervously in front of her mirror. She was beautiful now, yes, but would it be enough? Maybe he'll finally see me as a woman, instead of his childish servant, she prayed. Poseidon hadn't come to speak with her since they'd reunited on the shore. Dynamene was growing impatient. Perhaps she should look for him herself.

A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped up in a haste to open it. Her sisters usually didn't knock; only Poseidon did.

"I hear you've had quite the day," he said stoically as soon as she opened the door.

"Yes, to say the least," she smiled tentatively. "I suppose I'll have even more lectures to hear once the rest of my family comes."

"Come with me." He began to walk back down the hall. "You're going to join me for dinner."

She gasped before she could stop herself. Had the magic had such an effect on him already?! Regathering her wits, she rushed after him. "Dinner? That's... unexpected."

He looked down at her. "Do you find fault with it? I thought it might give us some privacy to speak in confidence."

This really is a dream come true! Dynamene didn't even bother trying to hold back her bright grin. "Oh, of course not, my lord. I'm happy with whatever you decide."

Poseidon blinked for a moment, then faced forward once more. "As expected."

She rose one eyebrow. As enigmatic as ever, but what do I care? A meal with just us two is the opportunity I need. She closed her eyes for a moment. I hope I don't mess this up. With the spell on my side, hopefully everything will work out.

---

In Poseidon's sitting room, the small table was made up for two people. Dynamene took her seat across from him, wiping her sweaty palms on her peplos as subtly as she could.

The moonlight that entered from the open balcony across the way highlighted the angles and curves of Poseidon's muscular body, and she suppressed a sigh of longing. It was easy to see how the rest of the pantheon held him in such high regard, despite their fear. Her eyes trailed up his bare chest to his face. Such cold eyes underneath those long eyelashes... I want them to thaw for me. I'm so close. Who else but her could get so close to him this way? This side of Poseidon was one only she knew.

"Let's get the trivial matters out of the way first. Your parents are of no concern," he began bluntly. "I hold superiority over them. You will not leave this palace without my permission, so their feelings hold no weight."

Dynamene stared in shock. She hadn't expected him to lead off with something so... Then again, it was in character for him. "I see." It was strange to hear her parents, so respected by the rest of the gods, labelled as insignificant.

"My opinion is the only one that matters." He rested his cheek on one hand, examining her face. "But things have gone unsaid for long enough, and it's causing more trouble than I care for." His gaze sharpened. "Tell me, then, Dynamene. What is that you feel?"

Dynamene stiffened, her eyes wide like the moon. "What I feel?! Um..."

"I know why you fled your parents' palace. I know why they brought you there to begin with." His gaze slid to the side in annoyance. "It was a futile gesture. Clearly they failed to stop whatever it was that they found so reproachable."

Her hands began to shake again where they were folded in her lap. "Poseidon..." She felt detached from herself, as if she was watching from some place far away. "I want..." Don't forget the witch's words.

Dynamene mashed her lips for one brief moment before telling him what he expected to hear. "I want to be your consort."

It was as if time had stopped. His gaze snapped back to her. Was it just her imagination, or had his eyes grown wider? Perhaps he hadn't expected to hear this after all.

Strengthened by the hint of vulnerability, she pressed her point once more. "I want to be your consort, Poseidon. I... I want to stay by your side always. I don't care what my family wants. They only desire to drive us apart, anyway. I can't bear the thought of that. Please..."

His free hand on the table curled into a fist. His voice remained cool as he answered. "You wish to be my consort? Do you understand what you're asking?"

Dynamene felt her body growing weak under his stare. "Yes, I do. I... I have fallen in love with you." Her voice cracked as her lips trembled. "I love you. I don't want to be away from you ever again. I love you so much."

The air around them hung heavy with her raw confession, yet her body felt strangely lightened. I finally said what I needed to. At long last, I was able to tell him. I can't believe it. Her cheeks shimmered with hopeful tears. "Please consider it, my lord-"

The table cracked in half under Poseidon's fist, and she gasped in shock. The stone pieces fell to the ground with a loud boom. She looked up at his face, and for the first time since she'd met him, she truly felt terror.

His face was stone, his eyes devoid of all feeling except for rage. He stood slowly, his muscles rippling with the threat of his anger. "You sit there, you miserable bottom feeder, and tell me those words with such feigned sincerity. What a well-done act."

Dynamene's lips moved fast, but no sound came out.

"You enter my estate, clinging to my arm, reeking of foul magic. And now you sit, comfortable as can be, wearing her face, and telling me these lies. What a skilled seductress," sarcasm dripped from his words. Malice emanated from his body, and she clamored out of her chair.

"I... My lord, I don't know what you're talking about..." She squeaked.

He stalked towards her, and she rushed away to the other corner of the room, cowering. I don't understand! What did I do?!

"You have no pulse, you waste of false flesh," he hissed, grabbing her wrist roughly.

Tears fell hot and fast down her face as she pleaded with him, shaking. "I don't understand, I don't-"

Then it hit her. The deal she had made with the witch...

Something the size of a fist.

She took my heart.

The trident in its wall rack began to glow an angry blue, and Poseidon held out his hand. The trident was pulled by some unseen force into his grip, and he held it level with her chest with no hesitation.

"I'll ask once, then you can plead with the gatekeepers of Helheim," he said softly. There was no warmth from him, no recognition; only lethal intent. "Where is Dynamene?"

The silence ringing in her ears in place of her heartbeat made Dynamene's final moments all the more terrifying. "I am Dynamene! Poseidon, please-"

"Enough lies," he hissed. It was at that moment that Dynamene truly understood the terror Poseidon brought wherever he went. The hatred in his eyes... Was this what Adamas had seen in his final moments? Was this disbelief the same, the disbelief that he would hurt her after feigning care for so long?

She stared at him in anguish. I loved you.

The trident plunged into her chest.

---

Author’s Notes: Violence will continue a bit into the next chapter; I will give a warning then too so you know when to skip ahead.

Hush, hush, darling,

Hush, hush,

Don't tell me cause it hurts.

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #poseidon x oc #fanfiction

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lazaefair · 4 years

Text

Has anyone done the Disney Princess AU yet

Part 1 - written by me, @poemsingreenink, and @iwritesometimes

poemsingreenink: Like, if anyone has big, soft innocent eyes it's Marwan who I swear to god looks near happy tears in most intense scenes. I at one point during Aladdin in theaters thought "You know Jafar's maybe just not had a great life. He's really having a day here." BECAUSE OF HIS BIG SOFT EYES.

lazaefair: LUCA MARINELLI HIMSELF SAID IT

sarah: HOWWWWW DID HE EVEN GET CAST AS JAFAR LIKE THOSE ARE DISNEY PRINCESS EYES

lazaefair: I...I need somone to draw Joe in a Disney Princess dress

sarah: but WHICH PRINCESS i feel like belle's off the shoulder gold ballgown has promise

lazaefair: Ariel’s pink gown would really drive the point home, though Although you’re right, Belle is a literate, dreamy brunette who loves poetry, so she’s closer as an archetype

sarah: i'll be honest: i was mostly thinking of getting his shoulders nude

lazaefair: Nicky is Ariel. Big blue eyes, otherworldly, utterly uncivilized.

sarah: YES

So imagine: Prince Yusuf, who had a giant statue of himself gifted to him on his birthday, and who hates it because his best friend (and immortal general of the army) Andromache is NEVER GOING TO LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

Also imagine: feral merman siren Nicolò who bites off fishheads and communicates through weird clicking noises, when he’s not singing men to their deaths. He’s not one of those useless pretty koi mermaids, no. He’s a motherfucking creature of the deep. Lamp eyes that are used to distract fish prey. Claws and pale fins and an intense stare and fangs.

Now imagine: Prince Yusuf going overboard in the storm that hits his royal yacht. Struggling, swept away, half-drowned and losing hope fast when an unearthly song fills the air, low and sweet and compelling. He’s swimming towards the singing before he realizes it, delirious, until something closes around his ankle and drags him under. The thing under the water kills him quickly.

And then kills him again, when it doesn’t take. After the third killing, Nicolò’s on his way to being well and truly mystified (“Okay, don't panic. They all die eventually, maybe...maybe I’ll just need to do it again?”) and gives up after the fourth and fifth killing. He drags his (attempted) prey to a little sheltered island he knows about, kills it one last time just to make sure, and then watches, resigned, as the flesh heals up and the lungs push water out until it’s coughing its way back to undeniable life.

“You rescued me,” is the first thing Yusuf says to him. “Your song – it is the song of my heart. My soul.”

Nicolò...has no idea what to do with this, coughs awkwardly in reply, and leaves before he can think too hard about the warmth in his chest answering to the warmth in the human’s expressive, grateful eyes.

(He doesn’t tell Yusuf the truth about their bloody first meeting until years later. It’s too goddamn embarrassing, to be perfectly honest.)

Of course he comes back within a day, almost shamefully quickly. Unable to help being fascinated by this gorgeous, well-spoken, kind and generous human who cannot die. He starts bringing things to Yusuf: at first just fish, then interesting-shaped fragments of rock and coral, and then bits of treasure he’s collected over the years, just to hear what new poetic turn of phrase Yusuf will spout on the spot when he’s given something.

“...this is my family crest on this treasure chest, Nicolò. How strange.”

“It is the chest you said your great-great-grandfather lost,” Nicolò says, the words coming out dry and halting from long years of disuse. Watching Yusuf’s hands as he traces the elaborate lines engraved on the lid, now blurred with rust and coral.

“That’s amazing. Truly. I am at a loss for words,” Yusuf says, smiling.

“No, you aren’t,” Nicolò says, and keeps watching so he can see the moment when the smile turns into a laugh.

Another day, he brings to Yusuf what Booker had told him was called a ‘dinglehopper’ and was what humans used to keep their hair in order, as they did not have the ocean to spread it out like beautiful seaweed in the waves. Yusuf takes it, mouth twitching in a way that makes Nicolò doubt the accuracy of Booker’s explanation. Yet Yusuf does not correct him, but in fact solemnly thanks him before offering the dinglehopper back and asking him to help untangle his riot of curls.

And so it goes. Days pass. Fascination becomes infatuation, turns to desire and then into love, until neither can imagine living without the other, and yet—

Eventually, Nicolò has to give Yusuf up. The prince is too noble and good to just abandon his people indefinitely. And because Nicolò loves him, he goes out and once more lures a ship in with his song, but not to dash it to pieces on jagged rocks this time. He leads them to the island. Watches from a distance as the astonished shouting begins, then back-pounding hugs and joyous celebration as Yusuf boards the ship and sails away. Watches Yusuf turn back more than once to scan the beach, clearly looking for Nicolò, but Nicolò does not follow. Instead, he watches until the ship is lost to his sight and he cannot feel the ship’s current or smell, and then he dives deep and goes to visit Merrick.

Meanwhile, Yusuf arrives back at the capital, where his other best friend, Quỳnh (immortal admiral of the navy) feels terribly guilty about the prince going overboard on his birthday. Which is why she uncharacteristically doesn’t give him shit when he comes back babbling nonsense about mermaids. Or when he spends the next few weeks moping around, writing mermaid poetry and drawing mermaid pictures.

To be fair to him, the particular mermaid he sketches over and over does look pretty striking. Otherworldly and all that. Good cheekbones. Nice pearly scales. “Fucking...giant anglerfish eyes,” Quỳnh mutters while she and Andy look over the latest pile of sketches Yusuf’s left abandoned on a library table. “Our prince has been fucking bewitched by a fucking fish.”

“Mm,” Andy agrees.

So when Nicolò arrives at the palace one fine summer’s day – naked, his fangs smoothed away to look perfectly human, a giant emerald in one hand and a silver fork in the other – and walking, on legs, it causes a bit of an uproar.

“You still smell like the sea,” Yusuf says hoarsely into Nicolò’s neck, the two of them wrapped around each other as closely as two bodies can be.

“Oh, fuck,” Andy says, lowering her axe. Quỳnh looks more closely at the dirty naked wild man their prince is embracing as if his life depends on it. Angular face. Skin encrusted with salt. Absolutely enormous piercing blue eyes. Naked, did we mention naked.

“Oh, fuck,” Quỳnh says.

“You get them separated,” Andy says. “I’ll go...get them a bath.”

The price Nicolò paid for his new human shape:

His siren song.

His immortality.

What he gets in return:

Yusuf teaching him what a dinglehopper is actually called, and what humans actually use it for.

Yusuf teaching him how to read and write his native tongue, and a few other tongues besides.

Yusuf reading poetry to him or sketching next to him on long lazy afternoons in the gardens.

The immense pleasure of intimidating the fuck out of any remaining would-be suitors for Yusuf’s hand in marriage who are still hanging around the palace for some reason.

“I am Nicolò di Genova,” Nicolò replies to the marquis’s indignant demands – predator’s smile still frightening even without endless rows of needle-sharp teeth. “You have seven days to leave this place forever. Get your affairs in order.”

Friendship with Andy and Quỳnh.

“Holy shit. Did he just—”

“—stab the marquis with a fork, at dinner, in front of the entire court? Yep.”

“...”

“New best friend.”

“Obviously.”

Yusuf writing poetry about him and to him. Nicolò likes them all. He wouldn't know a good human poem from a bad human poem, but nothing Yusuf touches could be bad, so ergo it's good.

Sightseeing throughout the kingdom with Yusuf’s strong, gentle fingers twined around his.

Yusuf breathing blissful curses into Nicolò’s ear, exactly like he used to do on their island, as they move together on his enormous bed.

Yusuf. Yusuf. Yusuf.

(Booker is also there. He insisted on being turned human, too, and coming along to make sure Nicolò doesn’t totally fuck this up, but he’s really mainly there for the entertainment. And the booze. Andy asks him at one point about losing his immortality. He shrugs. “Look, if we die, we die,” he says, then offers Andy another pour of fine French brandy. The two of them get along famously.)

It’s all going great until one night on the beach, while they’re walking along hand-in-hand under the stars and idly discussing human and merfolk constellations. Someone approaches them, dressed splendidly and moving with arrogant grace. He is also angular, also fair-haired, also possessed of unsettling eyes. And he has Nicolò’s siren song, gently humming from the shell that adorns his neck.

“Merrick,” Nicolò hisses as Yusuf’s eyes grow glazed and blank, and he tightens his hand on Yusuf’s, afraid for the first time. “Our deal—”

“He can’t bear the idea of living forever without you, can he? And so he hasn’t proposed,” Merrick says, smiling cruelly. “You’ve missed your chance. He’s mine.” And he extends his hand out to Yusuf—

Who stirs, suddenly, and turns to Nicolò. “Limpid, or shimmering?”

“What?”

“Shimmering,” Yusuf decides, peering into Nicolò’s eyes. “Yes. Limpid would be too pretentious, I think.”

And that’s pretty much that – we don’t actually get the plot with Merrick the Sea Witch because Yusuf only has eyes for one weird-looking white guy. Also, his one artistic failing is that he's tone deaf.

They do eventually kill Merrick because true love wins out and we are all about those happy endings, Grimm’s can suck it, etcetera, so Nicolò gets his immortality and his siren song back. He’s also back to being a merman, but Yusuf does not care. “I could paint your beautiful tail for the rest of my life, my love, and still fail to capture the luminous iridescence of you,” he murmurs, stroking said tail with tender fingers. The last person to touch Nicolò’s tail got his hand bitten off. Here and now, Nicolò runs his claws through Yusuf’s hair, clicking deep and happy in his throat.

(“This is weird, right?” Quỳnh asks from where she and Andy are busy scraping evil kraken guts off their armor, a prudent distance down the beach from the lovers. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird?”

Andy says nothing, just offers Quỳnh the rest of her bottle of vodka. This is why Quỳnh loves her so.)

(The wedding is a nightmare, at least according to the palace chef charged with cooking the wedding feast. “What is this, this, abomination? What in heaven’s name have you brought into my kitchen!”

“Tubeworm,” Booker says. “Considered a fine delicacy among our people. Don’t worry about it.”)

#the old guard #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #kaysanova #disney princess au #by lazaefair

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Adversity - 13-A

Fanfic update

I’ve decided to utilize this tumblr space to put in WIPs/partial chapters/unedited stories from my end. Then I’ll post it somewhere in Ao3 or FF.net. Maybe.

In the meantime, here’s an installment of Adversity (the chapters here in tumblr aren’t updated – it would make much more sense if you check it out on Ao3 first before coming back here). In essence this is part of Chapter 13.

Keen to hear what you think about this portion :)

Adversity details

Multi-chapter, work in progress, AU, pre-LoK,

Latest status: up to Chapter 12 uploaded in A03

Blurb: Lin and Tenzin are both at the height of their respective careers – she with the Metalbending Police and he with the Air Nation. Questions about their future begin to arise and things come to a head when Lin responded to an emergency call. Would her job take them from each other forever? Eventual happy ending. Alternatively: The one where Lin and Tenzin had to go through adversity like Lin’s dangerous job, a near-death experience, temporary separation and memory loss, unplanned pregnancy and Tenzin’s responsibilities before they end up with a family.

Tumblr chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Ao3 link | Ff.net link

---

Adversity – 13-A

Tenzin clutches a warm towel and wipes it across her forehead. He did not know why and if it would help but he thought it might make her feel better.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, no longer laborious or irregular. Nonetheless, he kept vigil and held one of her hands. It reminded him of incidents in the past years where he kept watch over her – that night in the Fire Nation Royal Compound when they first found her alive, those nights after missions that might have gone fatally wrong…

The day had started promising. But as always with the two of them, it never was easy…

Once he had the cabana in his view, he should have known that Izumi would have pulled something like this.

---

Tenzin received a message from one of the staff that the princess requested for lunch to be served at one of the beach cabanas. He did not think much about it; it has happened before and figured that maybe Izumi was being a good host.

There was only one person else in the cabana – Lin, who was looking puzzled and was frowning at something on the table.

His feet hit the sand and the earthbender turned to him. “Oh, it’s you.” She looked at him incredulously.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He deadpanned, seating across her. He did not ask questions, assuming that she was led to the cabana using the same ruse.

"I had no idea that you were the man that Izumi said that I'll be meeting for lunch." Lin flicked a note towards him. “Why is she doing this? I found that upon arriving here.”

He caught the paper that slid on the table.

It was in Izumi’s handwriting – informing Lin to please consider (consider – the word was underlined heavily, the insinuation not lost to the reader) this man that she has invited for her. And that they would be left to their own devices as the princess has taken the entire family off for a scenic tour of the island on Druk, Appa and Oogi.

Trust that Izumi would have connived with the rest of the family to pull something like this off.

Tenzin felt the need to apologize for their meddling family and did just that.

Lin shrugged, seemingly uninterested. “Is this supposed to be a test?”

“A test?” What does she mean?

“For me – or for you?” Lin asked back.

“Like for your memory?” To the airbender, it seemed like they were having a different conversation.

The earthbender looked vaguely uncomfortable now, hand lightly patting her belly. “Um no – I mean, for you – is Izumi…?” She trailed off.

For the life of him, Tenzin could not think of what the continuation was.

“Your partner?” Lin finally asked.

What.

“No!” Tenzin’s voice rose, surprised by the question that he did not even consider that the response might have sounded rude. “Of course not!”

“Don’t you protest too much?” Lin was amused. “It’s fine really – or is it a matter of security?” She was being nonchalant about it though Tenzin could have sworn there was a tiny bit of relief in her voice.

“What. No – it’s not like that.” Tenzin had to disabuse her of this ludicrous idea she had. “They’re all just meddling – they mean well – look, Izumi – she’s not my type -!”

Now you just sounded like a whiny teenager.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “Well, seems like they’re setting us up.”

“Whatever for,” She rolled her eyes then grinned. “Let’s not waste the food then.”

He found himself chuckling at that as Lin proceeded to scoop some food on her plate. “Joke’s on them though.”

Lin’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

“I actually intend to ask you out for dinner today.”

She paused and left her chopstick hanging in the air. “Dinner.”

He wet his dry lips. “Yes.”

“I take it you haven’t told them yet?” Lin examined the other dishes available to them. “What time do we need to get ready or we don’t know yet, depending on how soon they get back?”

Tenzin held the back of his neck as the heat crept up. “I mean, dinner – just us, you and me?”

As much as he did not want to admit, maybe Bumi was right – he did not have game.

Lin’s face was unreadable.

He was able to back-pedal when he heard it.

“Okay.”

---

The rest of their lunch went a smoother.

They talked about the mundane things – he talked about Republic City, she talked about the Fire Nation. She asked about what he does in the council and how the RCPD was when they left. He was more than happy to oblige and took the time to answer her questions in great detail.

Before long, when she declared that she felt too full for dessert, he invited her to walk along the shore. He pointed out a cluster of rock formations at the edge of the island.

Lin looked intrigued and they set forth.

He explained that Lord Zuko had told them when they were children that the rocks were formed when the volcano used to be active. It made for an impressive sight, tall and a bit forbidding.

That did not stop them though, Tenzin shared, as they would keep going back there to play when they were younger.

They stood beside the rocks, sandals soaked by the sea, small waves lapping at their legs.

He was in the middle of a retelling of the time Bumi had dared Su to race him to the top (not knowing that the kid can earthbend really well by then) when rather large wave crashed against the rock formation, spraying and drenching them with salt water.

He was laughing, saying he probably should have warned that that usually happens. His eyes alighted on her and was caught mid-laugh.

Lin stood stiffly, her eyes wild. One hand on her cheek (her scars), another on her chest - breathing erratically gulping air.

“Lin!” He immediately held her by the shoulders; she was shaking. “Lin!”

A panic attack.

Each breath rattled against chest as she started blankly, unseeing. Lin was insensible to her surroundings.

Tenzin scooped her up and ran as it all clicked.

Captain Tomasu did say that they had found Lin in the water.

Damn.

The minutes it took him to the rest house felt like hours. With the family away on whatever excursion Izumi and Iroh planned, he had to rely on the staff to come to their aid. Fortunately, the in-house healer was at hand.

The rest was a blur.

He felt the moment she regained consciousness. Her breathing shifted yet her eyes remained close.

Tenzin continued to run his fingers on her knuckles, whether to comfort her or himself was unclear.

Lin blinked slowly, her breathing sped up. Her hand quickly slapped to her cheek, tracing the scar with shaking fingers.

The airbender could hear her murmuring softly.

“My name is Lin. I’m in Ember Island. I’m okay. I’m safe. We’re -.” Her eyes focused and saw Tenzin at the periphery. “The baby?”

Tenzin leaned forward, grasping both of her hands and placing them on her stomach. “Is okay. You’re both okay – I had you both checked. You just had a little panic attack.”

There was no use alarming her.

“Panic attack…” She whispered to herself. “I used to black out before…”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzin said quietly. “I should have paid more attention to you.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Lin said in an equally soft tone. To his astonishment, she pulled his hand up to her cheek and leaned on it. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

He extended his fingers, gingerly touching her cheek. There were still times in the past weeks when he could not believe that she was here and she was alive. Little touches like these were rare and he savored the moments to remind himself that she was truly there.

“The rice granary,” Lin began, staring at the ceiling, actively avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. “It exploded, you know, the man – the firebender –.”

The airbender waited, this was in the papers and the reports that he was very familiar with.

“He knew what he was doing,” Lin held on his fingers tightly. “He saw me and he set fire – I fell to the water. I felt like drowning – maybe I did.” Tenzin gripped her hand back. “It was really hot and there was a lot of metal scraps. I remember sinking and maybe removing my armor…” Her face scrunched, obviously thinking. “The current was fast, rapidly swept me away – it was so cold. I thought I was going to die.” She resolutely focused on the ceiling when she heard Tenzin’s gasp. “I don’t know how long it was – it was dark, then there was light. My lungs – they burned so bad. Next thing I knew – I was aboard Captain Tomasu’s ship.”

Tenzin’s own breath caught.

Could it be… her memories have returned?

“Don’t force it.” He rubbed her wrist back and forth, hoping to sooth her.

“It’s still blank.” Her face was troubled and eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I don’t remember what happened before the explosion.”

Feeling her get distressed, Tenzin moved closer to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Lin Beifong, my mother is Toph – we grew up together in Republic City.” She now turned to him. “I live in Republic City now…”

His stomach churned. “What’s the last thing you remember from before?” He asked cautiously, afraid of triggering something.

“I’m deputy chief, I think.” She racked her brains. “There’s this small apartment. I think I live there.”

Tenzin swallowed. This was from a time before they lived together, when they were still exploring their relationship.

“I’m not losing it, am I? That really happened?” Her green eyes wide, seeing reassurance.

He nodded, still silently contemplating what this meant.

“After that – it’s blank.” She released a breath. “Did something significant happen during that missing period?”

“You got promoted to Chief of Police.”

“Maybe that’s it…something to do with work.” Lin guessed absentmindedly, biting her lip.

He added tentatively. “We’ve also decided to move in together.”

The way she looked at him now – it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“You’re the father.” She stated it so plaintively with a hint of caution.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me that.” Tenzin attempted to downplay the significance of the revelation. “Don’t worry about it – you probably didn’t know you were pregnant back then before –.” He waved a hand around, at a loss for words on how to explain the situation.

“You’re not even questioning it?” Her voice was tight and her posture tense.

“Not at all.”

She finally let tears flow.

---

He embraced her, murmuring reassurances that he will be there for her and the child. He will be involved.

But somehow – there was still that gap in her memory. She was missing something crucial, she can feel it - it was about the Air Nation. The gut feel was of hesitation and wariness. What was it about?

She had talked to Aang the previous days and there were no mentions of issues with the Air Nation.

Maybe it had something to do with crime? With her promotion as Chief of Police?

If only her mother were around… Maybe she could help her piece her memory together.

Lin pulled back from the airbender, who suddenly looked at her with apprehension.

“What happens now – what if I don’t remember?” Now that she had part of her memories back – she hated the feeling of uncertainty.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Tenzin inched closer to her, gently cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears. “Just know that you’re never alone.”

The sincerity in his eyes was enough for her. She did not even need to employ her seismic sense to know he was telling the truth.

She closed her eyes as he moved. She felt his lips on her forehead.

The airbender sat back down, a soft smile on his face.

She looked at their entwined fingers.

She will take this chance.

This was for her child. All for their child. And it will be enough.

#linzin #linzin fanfic #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip #toccatina adversity #lin beifong #tenzin #legend of korra fanfic

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puddingheads · 4 years

Text

Eternity || Nishinoya Yuu.

In which the small things stay with you, forever.

Warnings: Fluff with slight angst, post time skip spoilers

Word count: ~2.4k

Note: I'm finally writing a fluff fic, but I can't seem to tear myself away from angst. It's extremely minimal here though, and there's a good ending! Special thanks to @rollinguuuthunda for inspiring me to write this (since you rEFUSE to read my angst fics >:()!! And yes, I’m bullying Noya in the summary since he’s shorter than me.

—

“Nishinoya, you got hurt again?” You nagged, firmly tugging at his arms to reveal the bruises littered on his skin. They were big and angry and purple; just the sight of them was enough to make you wince.

“They don’t hurt at all, they’re battle scars!” Nishinoya, ever so cheerful and optimistic, beamed brightly at you. In the two years of knowing him, you’d never seen him bothered by the countless injuries his position inflicted on him.

“Sit down,” settling on the floor cross legged, you patiently waited for him to heed your words. There was no room for disagreement, Nishinoya knew perfectly well that you took his well being very seriously.

He never really understood why, though. He never knew why you would grimace at the new bruises on his arms, or force him into his jacket after every match, or ask if he’d eaten his lunch every time you bumped into him in the halls. (Also, he never noticed how you always coincidentally had a protein bar with you when he would say no.)

“They really don’t hurt, I’m fine!” Nishinoya said, but still sat down despite the reluctance in his voice. Why did you always have ointment in your bag anyway? Compared to him, you barely ever got hurt.

“They will if the ball keeps hitting them,” You retort, huffing quietly while you rubbed the ointment onto the purple spots on his arm. “Stop resisting.”

For the first time, he decided to take notice of your knitted brows and slight pout. Why did you seem so upset? You weren’t the one getting hurt, he’d already assured you that he was fine, and you didn’t have to care so much about him. The subtle look of concern everyone else gave was already more than enough, why did you have to go the extra mile?

And for the first time, the dots in his head started to connect. Maybe, you were worried for him. Maybe, you hated to see him injured as much as he hated to see you frown. Maybe, you liked him as much as he liked you.

“Thanks,” Nishinoya mumbled, all his usual confidence replaced by demureness.

“You’re welcome,” your voice was as soothing as ever, the immense concentration in your eyes stirring something in his chest.

At that moment, everything disappeared. The ache in his thighs, the leftover adrenaline in his veins, the thumping of his heart; everything was drowned out by the featherlight touch of your fingers on his skin.

At that moment, the weight of his arm limp in your hand and the coolness of the ointment on your fingertips told of the trust he had in you. In the warmth of his skin against yours, you felt his new vow—”I’ll take better care of myself to not worry you.”

And at that moment, all he could feel was your fingers rubbing comforting circles on his arm and your silent plea—”I don’t want you to hurt, ever.”

ii.

After days and weeks and months of the push and pull game you had engaged Nishinoya in, he finally scored a date with you. It was in the middle of summer when you agreed to meet him at the park, where the summer festival was held.

Coincidentally, it was the day of the Star Festival, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all on purpose. Only Nishinoya would choose such a day, the only day Vega and Altair were allowed to meet, to be the day of your first date. (Well, if it was on purpose, you sure hoped that you’ll still see him the next day. You didn’t want the first date to be the last, after all.)

“Noya, you’re late,” you chastised, watching him jog over to you with a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Sorry,” he laughed, tugging you along to the stands. Immediately, you were swept up by his antics and found yourself having a blast. It was just like him to easily infect you with joy and laughter, just like him to make you forget all your worries.

Spending time with him always felt like a magic carpet ride, bringing you to new places you never knew existed and making you feel emotions you never knew you could feel. It was intoxicating, and soon you found yourself drunk off the dream-like atmosphere.

After hanging your slip of paper with your wish on the wish tree, you turned to Nishinoya. For a second, it felt like a scene from one of your many dreams was playing right before your eyes. His hands firmly pressed together in a fervent prayer for his wish to come true, his brows knitted in the concentration you only ever saw when he was on the court, his lips pursed in unspoken yearning.

Silently, you wondered what he was wishing so desperately for. What more could he ask for, if he already had everything? What could the wish tree bring that he couldn’t attain with his effort?

(He wanted a lot of things, and all of them were related to you.)

His eyes instantly met yours when they finally opened. As if his wish had already been granted, a brilliant smile spread across his face. He fidgeted a little, hands searching himself for an almost-forgotten gift.

“For you,” he beamed, holding out a single forget-me-not. Some of its petals had already fallen from being jostled around throughout the evening, yet it still stood tall and proud, all its yellow and blue on display.

Taking it graciously, you could barely find the words to express the loud drumming of your heart in your chest. Before you could embarrass yourself with a haphazard word of thanks, a gust of wind blew.

The swaying strips of paper on the tree behind Nishinoya painted a meteor shower around his silhouette, adorning his already ethereal form with an otherworldly halo. Along with the wind was the smell of your shampoo, and almost as if he were one of Pavlov’s dogs, his heart instantly started racing and the tension in his shoulders dissipated.

In the wind was you, and in his lungs was the final push for him to fall down the rabbit hole. In the familiar scent of you was your wordless gratitude—”You give me a reason to smile.”

And in the wind was him, and held tight in your hands was the embodiment of his adoration. Under the full moon and colourful lights of the festival, no words were needed. In the sweet scent of the forget-me-not was his shy confession—”You make my heart pound, yet put me at so much ease.”

iii.

“I’m home,” you called out just as you stepped into your apartment and met Nishinoya’s eyes. Instantly, you recognised the nervous glint in his eyes, one you only saw when he broke something after getting carried away with Tanaka. “What did you do now, Yuu?”

“It’s nothing bad!” He was quick to defend himself, even quicker to unload the bags from your tired arms. Ever since you started officially dating Nishinoya, him being in your house on the weekends became a common occurrence.

Following him into your usually pristine kitchen, shock smacked you over the top of your head and sent you stumbling. It was a disaster zone, the counters littered with broken eggs and flour, and a mountain of dirty bowls in the sink. The oven dinged, bringing your attention to a suspicious mound inside.

“Were you baking?” You frowned, examining the crinkled top of the cake.

“Well, it’s our anniversary, and you like cake,” Nishinoya mumbled, pointedly staring at his creation. It wasn’t that bad, but it definitely made you hesitate to have a taste. “It’s your favourite kind, I’m sure you’ll like it!”

In his childlike confidence, you found yourself sighing in defeat. There was no way you could refuse when he was looking at you with so much hope in his eyes.

“Looks like we have two cakes to eat then,” you smiled fondly at him, pulling out a small box from one of the bags you brought home. “I got a slice from the bakery down the street.”

“We must be telepathic!” He exclaimed, excitedly unboxing the store bought slice and setting it next to his home baked one. The stark difference in appearance and his unabashed pride in his cake was hilarious yet endearing.

Deciding not to judge a book by its cover, you coaxed yourself to taste a fallen piece from the fruit of Nishinoya’s labour. Simultaneously, Nishinoya took a bite of the cake you had bought.

In the sweetness of the frosting and the fluffiness of the sponge cake, all Nishinoya could taste was your bashful devotion—”I only want the best for you.”

And in the saltiness of the crumbly cake(he must’ve gotten the salt and sugar mixed up again), all you could taste was his bold resolve—”I’ll do anything for you.”

iv.

“I want to travel the world.” Your fingers that were deftly twirling his hair came to a stop at Nishinoya’s sudden declaration.

“Do you have the money to go?” You asked, mind starting to wander. You’d always known that Nishinoya was a bird meant to fly, always known that Japan was unable to contain his huge dreams, always known that he would jump at any opportunity to explore the unknown. Yet, hearing it outright caught you off guard and got you worrying.

He was still young, still inexperienced, still naive. You saw these as reasons he should stay, he saw them as reasons he should go; for you were careful and he was carefree.

“I have a plan.” He replied, resolution strong in his voice. The confidence he usually emitted was now unable to reassure you, unable to drive away the darkness called unease from your heart.

“How long will you be gone?” With all your being, you wished that he would laugh and tell you it was a joke, like he always did.

“As long as it takes,” shrugging, he shifted to meet your eyes. In the intensity of his gaze, you knew he wasn’t joking. He was dead serious about it, and nothing you said would make him stay.

It wasn’t the first time you heard about his dream of travelling the world and experiencing everything he could, it wasn’t the first time you felt this helpless, and it definitely wasn’t the first time you feared his departure.

Somewhere deep in your heart was fear—a lot of fear. You were afraid of holding him back, afraid of watching him leave and never return, afraid of being away from him. But the day when you had to stop running away from the fear was bound to come; it was inescapable.

“I’m not breaking up with you, of course,” as if he could hear your fears, he continued. “We’ll keep in contact. We may be physically apart, but I’ll never leave. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You said, mustering all the conviction you could find. Whether it was to convince him or to convince yourself, you weren’t sure.

It took weeks of preparation and arrangements before Nishinoya was able to fly off. You had contemplated if you should send him off, since you were sure to break down in tears once he stepped through the departure gates, but decided to go to the airport anyway. All for seeing him just a little more.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Nishinoya muttered, face buried in your neck as he pulled you in a tight embrace. You hoped the strength in his grip wasn’t due to a hesitance at the last minute.

“I don’t know how I’ll do it without you,” you confessed, not realising the arrows your words pierced through his heart.

In your shaky voice and shallow breaths, he heard your reluctant promise—”No matter how long it takes, I’ll always be right there waiting for you.”

And in his rare moment of silence, you heard his wholehearted oath—”No matter how far I go, I’ll always come back to you.”

Years had passed, both Nishinoya and you had grown more mature, more accustomed to only seeing each other once a year, more familiar with loneliness. But now, Nishinoya’s desire to explore has been satiated, and his journey around the globe has come to an end. He was back.

“Yuu!” The elation in your voice easily drowned out his calling of your name, earning a few glances from the passersby in the airport.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands and resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. He immediately mirrored you, basking in your presence.

“I’m home,” Nishinoya whispered, pulling away.

“You’re home.” You reciprocated, taking all of him in. He was a little tanner than the previous time you saw him, his eyes a little brighter.

For the first time since you last saw him, everything felt right. With him back, a monotony you never noticed was relieved. With you back, a stability he had forgotten was restored. Being back together brought back memories of the past and gave hope for the future. To be a tad dramatic, you never felt quite as alive when he wasn’t by your side.

Just like the love stories and romance movies, everything around the both of you faded to nothingness. For a split second, it was just the two of you in the entire universe. For that split second, nothing else mattered, since you were with Nishinoya, and he wasn’t going anywhere else.

And in that split second, he decided that it was now or never.

Taking a step away, he fumbled for something in his pocket. As he sunk to one knee, realisation settled in your mind. Oh, oh.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Nishinoya declared, eyes glazed over and smile full of anticipation.

In the glittering diamond seated atop the silver band he held up, you saw his wish hung upon the wish tree—

And in the glimmering tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded your head yes, he saw your wish hung upon the wish tree—

“Stay with me, forever.”

—

102 notes · View notes

kitweewoos · 3 years

Note

4&5 from the newest prompts, FitzHunter

Okay. So. This is long af lol and there’s a lot going on here. So, I’m going to put this under a cut after a few paragraphs. <3 Thank you so much for this prompt, it was incredibly fun!

(Yet Again! More Dialogue Prompts!)

4. If you need me, I’ll be in the bottom of one of those fishbowl fruity drinks with the umbrellas, drowning my sorrows in alcohol-soaked cherries. 5. That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

Leo stood off to the side, staring over the crowd at the receiving line. He wasn’t good at this, at pleasantries, at being nice, especially when just being here ached. He wasn’t jealous, but the life he could have had flashed through him like a bruise.

Ophelia looked absolutely beautiful in her wedding dress, the sparkling fabric fitting to her snug in the best way. Her thick dark hair was swept up in a complicated updo, and he could see her signature green streaks reflected in the wedding’s color scheme. He imagined himself at her side, standing in the middle of their friends, wearing a suit they’d picked out to match the color scheme. He imagined himself across from her at the altar, saying his vows and pledging himself to her and their future together. That could have been him up there.

Except he’d had his accident, and they didn’t fit together anymore.

“Are you going up?” a familiar voice asked from behind him. When he turned, he found Lance Hunter with his patented smirk. They knew each other through a vague connection; Jemma was dating his ex-wife, Bobbi, and they were apparently still very good friends. Through Jemma and Bobbi, they were technically in the same friends circle, but Leo was confused why Hunter was here at Ophelia’s wedding.

“I was considering it,” Leo replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I work with the groom, Hunter replied. “You?”

“I know the bride.”

“Ahh,” Hunter said softly. “You know the bride, right?”

Leo rolled his eyes but didn’t contradict him. Once upon a time, it had been him and Ophelia side by side, and they were fiercely in love. He’d thought that it would be Leo & Ophelia forever, but it was fate that separated them.

“Do you want to go up?” Hunter asked, more gently, touching Leo’s elbow with a surprising amount of care. “Or do you want to get out of here?”

“No, I can go up,” Leo said. He shouldn’t be surprised, though, because while Hunter was a joker and came off as aloof, he’d never hurt or scared Leo. In their years of vague friendship, Leo knew Hunter as the kind of person who would help you move and would scare off ex-boyfriends and would walk the girls home from the bar to make sure they were safe. Hunter, despite the dog tags and the tattoos and the leather jacket, touched the world with gentle fingertips. “Come with me?”

Hunter smiled, clearly pleased, and followed him up to the waning crowd. The closer they got to Ophelia, the clearer the rock in his chest became. He wasn’t jealous, because he and Ophelia just didn’t fit together anymore. His brain injury stole that certainty from him. He’d long since accepted that, and the stone wasn’t sharp like jealousy. It was heavy, and rough, like grief. He thought he had mourned his life with Ophelia, but it was there, fresh and hard.

With the wedding and recently the funeral, Leo might be a little too fragile for this, but he put one foot in front of the other until he was in front of Ophelia.

“Leo,” she cooed, and drew him into her arms. He issued her cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

“As if I’d miss it,” he replied.

“I would’ve understood if you didn’t feel up to it. He was your father,” she said softly.

“He’d want me to be out enjoying this. He adored you, you know.”

“That’s true,” she laughed. She reached up and brushed her thumb along his cheek. Tears had started to escape at the mention of his father. His absence in Leo’s life was a gaping wound, and everything reminded him of him. For two decades, he didn’t even know his father, his true parentage hidden behind his false name. For two decades, he’d been Leopold James Fitz, and it was only in the last five years that he'd learned the truth. He let himself enjoy his father’s presence, his affection, and his warmth. He’d changed his name, with his mum’s blessing to Leo James Radcliffe, his real identity, the name his mum used to whisper to him when he was a baby. And just when he’d gotten used to being openly and unflinchingly loved, he lost that warm light all over again.

“Sorry,” he said. “You look beautiful, Lia. I’m so happy for you.”

“Don’t apologize, Leo. But thank you. Save a dance for me, okay?”

“I will. Of course, I will.”

She kissed his cheek this time and patted the other with her hand. Hunter stepped up to the happy couple, while Leo stepped away. He mainly talked to Ophelia’s husband, and wasn’t that weird to think.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Hunter said lightly as he stepped up to Leo, leaving the receiving line. “You alright?”

“Yeah. My, uh, my da, he died last month, and I didn’t expect a wedding to -” he said and his voice caught a little so he cleared his throat instead of finishing his sentence. Hunter touched his hand with a feather light brush, and it grounded him here strangely. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to go inside? Get something to drink? I hear that it’s an open bar,” Hunter said. Leo wiped away a final tear with a laugh that bubbled in his chest. The stone felt lighter inside of him, less rigid, more smooth and manageable.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Hunter’s hand slipped into Leo’s and guided him by the hand into the banquet hall. It was stunning inside, all dark greens and soft creams. He didn’t expect anything less from Ophelia Sarkissian, though. She was always put together, and on top of the latest fashions. They’d been such an odd couple, Ophelia in her exquisitely neat outfits and Leo with his rumpled button-down he’d spilled something on or burned the sleeve of. She was always righting his collar, or smoothing his shirt, trying to put him together a little bit more than he was. It was a fruitless effort, especially after his accident where he could barely dress himself. He’d traded ties for comforting cardigans, and hidden himself away to recover by himself, and they’d simply fallen apart.

But that had led them here, to Ophelia’s pristine wedding, and with Hunter’s hand in Leo’s as he was led to the bar.

He froze, though, before they got there, and turned to Leo with a look in his eyes like he’d seen a spectre.

“You okay?” Leo asked.

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “Yeah, well, no. No. The bartender.”

Leo peaked around his shoulder and looked at the bartender.

“What about him?”

“He’s, uhh, an ex-boyfriend, of a sort.”

“Of a sort?”

“Yeah, uhm,” Hunter glanced backwards over his shoulder. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bottom of one of those fishbowl fruity drinks with the umbrellas, drowning my sorrows in alcohol-soaked cherries.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Leo replied.

“No. But, okay, short story, I went on a few dates with him right after I divorced Bobbi, and he was alright, except when I decided I didn’t really want to date yet, he got absurdly clingy. He was sending messages day and night, and telling me if I didn’t go out with him again, or return his messages, he was going to kill himself.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, so,” Hunter said softly. “Can I imposition you to ask a favor?”

“It’s not an imposition, but go ahead.”

“Yeah, okay, can you pretend to be my boyfriend just for the night? I’ll owe you so much. I’ll buy you dinner,” Hunter said, “for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll do it, but I am holding you to buying me dinner,” Leo said, and Hunter cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure?” Hunter said so softly Leo almost didn’t even hear him.

“I am sure,” Leo replied. “What did you want to drink?”

“Uhh,” Hunter said. He glanced around Leo again.

“Hey,” Leo said, squeezing his hand. “Come on.”

He walked Hunter over to the bar with a pleasant smile, holding Hunter’s hand and then as the bartender started over, slid his arm around Hunter’s waist. It was definitely a possessive move, but Leo was sure Hunter wouldn’t mind, since he leaned into him.

“Hello,” the bartender said. Hunter minutely teased against him.

“Hi, can I get a Scotch and soda, and - babe, what can I get you?” Leo asked, turning his eyes to Hunter with intentional heart eyes. It wasn’t hard. Hunter was an attractive man, and he was familiar enough to Leo that he absolutely could play along, and maybe mean it. He’d have to deal with that later.

“Oh, uhh,” Hunter said, peaking at him with a blush. “Whiskey sour.”

Leo grinned and playfully said, “I should have known.”

He kissed Hunter’s cheek, which was an unexpectedly bold move on his part, but Hunter’s eyes went soft and sweet afterwards, so he couldn’t find it in himself to mind the potential misstep.

“Right,” the bartender said, and moved to fill their order.

“You alright?” Leo asked. “Too much?”

“No, that was, that was good. Thank you.”

“Okay, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, that’s all.”

“I know. You’re good.”

Leo looked at the bartender as he mixed their drinks, and he could tell he was mixing them as weak as possible, but that was fine. Leo wasn’t exactly looking to get wasted at his ex’s wedding. The bartender came back and set the drinks down, staring at Hunter as if willing him to look back. Hunter kept his eyes on Leo, though.

Leo looked at the bartender and smiled.

“Thanks so much, mate,” Leo said, turning his eyes back to Hunter. “Come on, love, let’s go find our seats, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “That sounds good.”

Leo didn’t care where Hunter was sitting as compared to his own seat, they were sitting together and nothing could stop them. He resolved that they weren’t separating a second before they had to, and maybe, based on Hunter’s eyes on him still, just maybe Hunter agreed.

#agents of shield #aos #fitzhunter #leo fitz #lance hunter #leophelia #ophelia sarkissian #dadcliffe #prompt tag #talk to me #ask tag #lovelymysticmoon

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