#all because I wanted to look up one fact out of idle curiosity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

Text

In the Dead of Solstice Night (Pre Coming Home Oneshot)

Azriel x Reader

Hiiii! Merry Christmas, to all who celebrate it <3 I really wanted to get something out in time for Christmas (and while I'm finishing up the next part of Fireleaf), and I've had this in my drafts for a while.

This is a oneshot set in the Coming Home universe, before reader ever went travelling - a sort of reimagining, where something happens between Az and Y/N on Solstice night one year. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence was stifling, considering the noise that had filled the Town House only a matter of hours before.

The sounds of laughter, of talking, of the roaring fire — all of it had been swept away by the late hour and replaced by a peaceful quiet. The day of wonderful chaos should have made it easy for you to drift off to sleep — but there you were, laying in your bed, your eyes pinned wide on the ceiling.

Down the hall, in their own respective bedrooms, Rhys, Mor, Cassian and Amren were already sleeping soundly, their bellies full of food and drink — or blood, in Amren’s case. Your fae hearing easily picked up on the sounds of their heavy breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets if they tossed or turned in bed.

And it made you all too aware of the fact that Azriel hadn’t ventured up to his own room.

Not that you weren’t already hyper aware of his movements, fae hearing or no.

The two of you had been the last ones left in the sitting room after everyone else had retired, talking until the embers of the fire were dying and even the faelights had begun to dim. And when you’d decided to turn in yourself, you’d bid Azriel goodnight and left him to bury his nose in the book you had bought him, his wings draped over the armchair he was curled up in.

The hours had passed, and sleep had evaded you. You’d waited to hear the sounds of his feet climbing the stairs, the creak of his door opening, but—nothing. Maybe he’d fallen asleep reading. Or maybe he’d gone flying, as you knew he often did when he was too wired for rest.

Curiosity got the better of you.

Before you could reason with yourself, you were slipping out of bed and shucking on a loose silk robe. You tried to be as silent as possible as you padded from the room and headed for the stairs.

The rational part of your brain questioned why it even mattered to you that Azriel hadn’t retired to bed. He was just…your friend. Your older brother’s best friend. One of the few people who had been a constant in your life.

But you’d undoubtedly been growing closer, nearing your twentieth year of life. You enjoyed his company — perhaps a bit more than anyone else’s — and you found yourself thinking about him, wondering what he was doing, in idle moments of quiet.

Gods, you probably annoyed the hell out of him. He probably merely tolerated your clear attraction to him because he did care for you, because you were Rhys’s sister. Maybe he hadn’t stayed at the Town House at all, and had, in fact, wandered off into the night to get up to the Mother knew what. Maybe he’d secretly met with a lover you knew nothing about—

You stepped off the bottom stair, the heat of the fire still breathing through the sitting room and snaking out into the hallway. Through the gap in the door, you could just make out the dim winking of the faelights. And the dark figure hunched in the armchair, the shadows around him just as still.

The bite of relief you felt was shameful. So he hadn’t wandered off for a secret rendezvous

Not that it was any of your business.

You gently pushed the door open, taking in the sight of his sleeping figure. His dark hair fell about his perfect face with his head angled back, the book you’d gifted him still open and pressed against his chest. His chest rose and fell steadily, gently.

He looked so…peaceful. So rare, to see him so at ease, so vulnerable. Beautiful. Your heart thudded in your chest at the mere sight of him.

You were almost as stealthy and as silent as him as you walked with careful steps, grabbing a thick throw from the back of the sofa and turning to him. Gently — as gently as you could, so as not to wake him — you eased the book from his hands.

You’d barely turned to place it on the coffee table when one of those hands grabbed your wrist, and Azriel was shooting upright, going ramrod straight in the armchair. His eyes were blown wide, seeming to search for any potential threat, before they landed on you.

“Hey,” You breathed, trying not to wince at the tight grip on your wrist. “It’s just me…”

Azriel blinked at you, his heavy breaths audible. It took him a moment to recognise his surroundings, to realise there was no danger — only then did his shoulders relax, his hand letting go of your wrist.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” You studied him cautiously. “I was just grabbing you a blanket…and putting your book down…”

Az rubbed his eyes, shifting in the armchair. He glanced at the blanket still in your hand. “Thank you. I didn’t—” He sat forward, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You slipped your hand behind your back. “No.”

“Let me see,” He reached for it, scarred fingers brushing yours.

“Az, it’s fine—”

But he was already pulling your hand towards him, his eyes checking the delicate skin of your wrist for any indication that he’d been too rough. When he found no such thing, he seemed to relax even more.

“Thank you—for the blanket.” He inclined his head, letting go of your hand. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep down here.”

“I figured—I mean…I was awake…and I didn’t hear you come upstairs. I was worried you were…cold.”

Gods, you wanted to kick yourself, to go running out of there and hide. It didn’t seem to matter how long you’d known him; speaking to Azriel, gazing at that gorgeous, chiselled face, turned you into a stumbling, stammering mess every time.

He glanced up at you, his hazel eyes sweeping your face and meeting your gaze. You could feel yourself blushing underneath the intensity of his stare. You cleared your throat.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” You murmured, stepping back.

But he grabbed your wrist again. Gentler, this time. The touch feather-like, as though he was doing everything to tamp down on his own strength and be delicate with you.

“Stay.”

You stared at him. Swallowed. Never…never had it been like this — whatever this was. He usually politely ignored your blushing, the way you stumbled and rambled like an idiot. Usually spoke to you like your clear attraction to him wasn’t a giant elephant in the room.

But this — now — was different. Not in a way you could place a finger on. A strange tension shrouded the two of you, and it seemed to bring his shadows alive. You watched as they coiled around him and slowly reached out towards you.

You blinked out of your thoughts. Tried to remember how to speak. “What.” Was all you blurted.

“Stay.” Azriel repeated quietly. “If you can’t sleep. We can talk.”

Oh. Oh. That was all this was. The two of you talked all the time, and he was just…thoughtful. Not wanting you to be alone while sleep was evading you, even though he’d been slumbering happily himself, moments before. Your thoughts ran away with you for a second there—

“I had fun at Rita’s the other night.” The words fell from your mouth unprompted.

Az’s lips twitched. “I noticed.”

Your cheeks burned with what felt like the heat of a thousand suns. Rhys finally relenting and letting you join the others for nights out in Velaris was a relatively new thing, and maybe you’d let a little too loose. Had a few too many drinks.

“Was I embarrassing?” You grimaced. “That faerie wine is something else—”

“You weren’t embarrassing.” Azriel cut you off. “I liked it — watching you enjoy yourself.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. And his were…smouldering…fierce, as they bore into yours. A soft smile tugged at your lips. “I was hoping you would dance with me.”

“You weren’t short of offers. You didn’t need me wading in.”

“…You were the only one I wanted to dance with, though.”

Silence. Your candid admission was met with utter silence. Never had you been so…so forward.

Your feelings for Az were undoubtedly blatant, but…they’d always been an elephant in the room. Something you tiptoed around and never openly acknowledged.

Until now, clearly.

You met his eyes again. Found him just…staring. Staring deeply at you. He licked his lips and glanced down.

“It’s late.” He said quietly. “We should both get to sleep.”

You pursed your lips, the dismissal stinging. “What happened to talking?”

“I think it’s best that we call it a night.” He swallowed. “Before we get ourselves into trouble.”

You frowned down at your hands. Trouble. Was that how he saw you? A fine line teetering on the edge of danger, of poor choices?

“I don’t see how we can get ourselves into trouble by talking.” You said.

“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N. Get to bed before we forget ourselves—”

“I’m not a child, Azriel. I’m a grown female and I’m perfectly in control—”

“It’s not your control I’m worried about.”

You felt yourself falter. Go still. Because never…never had Az been forward like this. Not that you knew what he was saying, exactly. Your mind was more muddled than it ever had been. But it sounded a hell of a lot like…like maybe he—

“Just go to bed. Please.” He gritted out, his voice gravelly. “Before you say anything else that puts everything at risk.”

He must have read the hurt that stung your eyes. Perhaps that was why he lowered his gaze, refused to meet yours. And why he still didn’t look up as you rose to your feet.

“Fine.” You rasped, pulling your thin robe around you. Suddenly, you felt colder than ever. “I’ll go to bed. I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

His response wasn’t a comfort. Nothing could stop the way your face burned and your eyes pricked with tears — tears of pure humiliation — as you strode to the door.

But some slither of candour still remained inside you as you turned at the threshold, wanting — needing — to get rid of the truth in your mind. Your eyes landed on Azriel again. He hadn’t moved.

“You know…” You said quietly. “One of those males I was dancing with asked me to go home with him tonight.”

The fact that you caught the slight shift of his body told you just how unguarded he currently was. He was usually impossible to get a read on, even after years and years of trying. But right then — in that moment — you glimpsed it. It was subtle, but…there.

He seemed to correct himself as he bit out, “Well, perhaps you should have — gone home with him.”

A laugh void entirely of humour left your lips. And though the sensible thing would have been to leave the room and return to bed, before this — whatever this was — got out of hand…you shut the door, instead. Pressed your back against it as you faced him once more.

“Is that what would make you feel so much better, Az? Is it what you want? For me to go around sleeping with any male who offers to buy me a dri—”

Your words died in your throat as he launched himself from his seat. With ridiculously big strides, he was in front of you in seconds, his hands slamming too loudly against the door, either side of your head.

“What I want,” he hissed, “is to strip you bare and fuck you until you’re hoarse.”

The slightest stagger of a breath escaped your lips, but that was about all you could manage. His body was so close to yours, so easy to reach out and touch—

“What I wanted,” he continued through gritted teeth, “was to march over to that male you were dancing with in Rita’s and rip his damn hands off. That is why I didn’t dance with you. Because I know what I fucking want, and it wouldn’t have stopped at just a dance.”

“No,” you breathed, “it wouldn’t have done.”

It was perhaps the boldest move you’d ever, ever made as you reached a hand up. You pulled Az’s head down towards yours, and pushing up on the tips of your toes, you pressed your lips together.

The kiss you gave him was hungry — the kiss you’d thought about giving him for years and years. One that communicated everything you wanted him to know. That you saw him, wanted him, loved him. That you weren’t some fragile little thing for him to dance around.

There was a split second before a growl was ripping from the depths of his chest. And then he was kissing you back, his hand coming up to tangle within the strands of your hair. He tipped your head back just slightly, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth.

“These fucking lips,” he groaned against you. “You have no idea how much I think about them.”

His words had you weak at the knees. “You like my lips?”

“Far more than is sensible.”

“Then why,” you kissed him quick, yanking him against you, “have you never kissed them before?”

He stopped. Held you still as he pulled back — not by much. Just enough to stare down at you. His eyes flickered down to your lips and then back up to meet yours. His tongue swiped over his mouth like he was lapping up the taste of you.

“You’re Rhys’s sister.” He said gruffly. “…But you’re also every single one of my fantasies.”

And fuck if those words didn’t set you on fire. You swallowed, staring up at him. You wanted to show him…to make him see just how much he was every one of your fantasies.

How much you thought about this. Him.

You maintained eye contact with him as you grabbed his hand, moving it to your breast. He swallowed hard, his eyes dipping down.

But you didn’t allow him to hover there. Still holding onto his hand, you dragged it down. Down your stomach. Down until it reached the hem of your nightdress.

His fingers brushed the material, his eyes fluttering shut. It was the only barrier between him and your wetness. No underwear. Nothing to stop him brushing—

Those deft, brilliant fingers dipped beneath your nightgown, and you lifted your hips towards him. Until his hand was at the apex of your thighs.

“Gods,” he whispered, “you’re soaked.”

“Yes.” You breathed. “This is what you do to me, Az. And I’d much prefer your hand to my own.”

Your words seemed to send a shudder through his body, and he hissed between his teeth as the pads of his fingers found your wetness. He cupped his hand over your sex, slicking himself with your juices. A gasp fell from your throat.

“Is this what you want?” Azriel asked you, his thumb inching up to rest on your clit. “There?”

You hissed, hips jerking, and Az smirked. But there was no chance for you to breathe another word — or another sound — as he dipped his head and lowered his mouth to yours once more.

His kiss was firm, bruising, as his thumb began slow, indolent circles on your clit, made all the more delicious by the scrape of his calluses. You heard yourself whimper against his lips, felt him smile at the sound.

He broke the kiss, teeth grazing your lips. “And what else do you want?”

The slight pressure he applied had your hips bucking again. “You,” you gasped. “Your fingers. You. Inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/N.”

His hazel eyes flared, and never had you seen them so burning, so vibrant, like your words awoke something in him. And his fingers…gods, his fingers were more skilled than you could ever have imagined. He’d done no more than rub at your clit, and already your legs were trembling. You grabbed his arm, steadying yourself.

“Please,” you pulled his head down to meet yours again. “I want you.”

With a growl, he was all over you, his lips clashing against yours as he slipped a finger inside you. The moan that escaped you was lost immediately in the huff of your heavy breathing, mingling and twining with his.

“If we do this,” Az breathed, pumping his finger, “there’s no going back.”

“Good.”

That was what you wanted. Him, in every which way possible. Against the door or the wall, or on the sofa or the floor, upstairs or downstairs—

Az seemed to read those very thoughts on your face, and with an animalistic noise that had you clenching around his fingers, he pulled his hand from between your legs and hoisted you up into his arms, locking you tightly around him.

He didn’t stumble with you far, tucking his wings in and perching you on the back of the sofa. He slotted himself between your thighs. And went still. Stared down at you.

“Y/N, I—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “I want — need — to know that you’re sure about this. This could change a lot….”

You’d spent so many years wanting him, craving him. Thinking about him and watching him. Knowing that he discreetly took lovers. Knowing that he was probably keenly aware of your feelings this whole time. The fact that he was even questioning your certainty seemed ludicrous…

And yet, it made your heart flip and thud. Because it was Az all over — caring and attentive. Loving. Always, always good.

You met his gaze. Raised one hand to cup his cheek. And used the other hand to reach for the buttons of his trousers.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” You whispered, fingering the top button. “I’ve wanted you, Azriel, for a very, very long time.”

His eyes fell down to watch your fingers, and you could have sworn you heard his heart picking up and thudding. Heard a shuddered breath slip past his lips.

And then he was kissing you once more. Soft. Slow. His hands gently rubbing your arms. He left enough space between you for you to undo every button. And you did.

And then you were shoving those trousers down to the floor. Watching his cock spring free. You found yourself gulping at the mere sight of him.

All those jesting speculations you’d heard about wingspan correlating with the size of other body parts. It didn’t seem much like speculation to you. Az was thick…long…hard.

You wanted every inch of him inside you.

Slowly, you wrapped a hand around his cock — or tried to. Az hissed between his teeth, his eyes not once looking away. His hips jerked as you began to languidly pump his shaft, your thumb circling the head and mopping up the small pool of moisture that had gathered there.

“Gods,” Azriel choked. “No—no games.”

You hummed, trilling a soft laugh. “No?”

“No—I want to be inside you.”

You smirked, dipping your head. Your lips were inches from his cock as you flicked your eyes up to meet his. But he made no move to stop you. He merely watched, his chest heaving, as you poked your tongue out and swirled it around the head

He grunted, hips bucking. He seemed to be using every bit of his willpower not to thrust right into your mouth. No matter how much you wanted him to—

“No games,” he repeated, gently threading his fingers in your hair. “Wicked little thing.”

“You don’t want—”

“I want,” he pulled you up, kissing you quick, “you. I want you.”

Words you’d waited so, so long to hear, and they were as much of a song as you’d fantasised. For years. In the dead of night, with your hand between your legs. Or sometimes at sadder moments, when you’d cried and considered the possibility that Az would never, ever say such things to you.

And yet here he was. Saying them. Sending a shiver coursing through you.

He cupped your face in both his hands, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. And he was so gentle, so tender. There was nothing but pure adoration in the delicate way he handled you.

Az took the reins from there, ruching your nightgown up around your waist. He kissed you again and again and again. As he hoisted your legs up around him. As he grabbed his cock in his hand and dragged it through your folds, slicking himself up with your wetness and giving a few slow strokes to your clit.

As he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in.

Just the tip. Even that stretched you, had a bite of pain pinching you that was strangely pleasurable and had you gasping against Az’s mouth. His hips stilled, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes.

“Want me to stop?” He whispered.

“No.” You immediately shook your head. “No. Keep going.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he cupped the back of your head, threading his fingers within your hair. His lips found yours again as he pushed in a little further.

Stilled.

Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. It was heady and wonderful, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or cry his name or touch him all over, all at once.

A little further. He pulled out to the tip, pushing in again. Again.

He took his time allowing you to adjust. Allowing that pinch of pain to shift into full-fledged pleasure. And when finally — finally — he was pushed in to the hilt, he tore his mouth from yours and gazed at you.

The gaze was…gentle. Loving. Open. And you were more grateful for that than he could ever imagine. That he was willing to be open with you. Willing to bare himself like you were baring yourself.

And then he pulled out to the tip once more. And truly began to thrust.

“You don’t even know,” Azriel gasped, hips rolling, “how much I think about you. How much I try not to. You’re always there — on my mind.”

You did know. Gods, you did. Az had been consuming you since you’d been capable of harbouring such feelings. He was everything. Absolutely everything—

“Gods, you feel so good around me.” He groaned. His rough hands grabbed at your hips, hoisting you up.

The two of you were frenzied and unstoppable as he pounded into you, and it took every bit of control you possessed to keep your voices down, to maintain your moans and noises in hushed tones.

But Az inside of you was like nothing else you’d ever felt. And as his thrusts picked up, his hips moving faster, harder, you became him and he became you. One unit of nothing but unbridled elation and pleasure.

You pulled him flush against you, your nails grazing his wings, and you felt his hips falter, his face burying the crook of your neck. You heard him whimper, the chanted “gods, gods, gods” as he slammed into you and reached between you to rub at your clit.

You lost it, then, release an unforgiving force barrelling through every single part of your body. Your head fell back, and a cry tore through your throat that Az smothered with a hand, cupping his palm over your mouth as his thrusts, somehow, picked up even more.

“I can’t—” He choked, slamming his other hand against the sofa to steady himself. “Oh gods.”

That was all the warning you got before he thrust three more times, hard, fast, his skin slapping yours, before his hips staggered. And then he was coming deep inside you, huffing breathless moans and noises into your neck.

He collapsed against you, and you held him, utterly spent and utterly blissful. There was something soothing in the heavy rise and fall of his chest against you – like you and he were the only two people left in the world. All other sounds and images and smells had melted away, and it was just you. You and Azriel. The way you had dreamed it one day would be.

You were surprised to find a tear rolling down your cheek as you cradled Az’s head to your neck, your eyes screwed shut and your fingers stroking his hair. He was everything to you; a ray of light amongst so many horrors. A reminder that there was still beauty in the world.

And maybe – you hoped – you could be that for him.

“I love you, Az.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I love you.”

Azriel’s body went still, rigid against you. His head jerked up, hazel eyes blown wide and meeting yours. He was undoubtedly a sight, with his tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his swollen lips.

He blinked at you, those swollen lips parting. “...What did you say?”

“I–”

But there was no chance for you to repeat the admission.

Not as the door flew open.

Az jerked away from you, yanking his trousers up. And you had the sense, somewhere in your roaring mind, to shimmy your nightgown back down.

It was all entirely pointless, though. If the sight of you both didn’t immediately give away what you’d just been doing, the smell of sex in the air certainly did.

And Cassian knew that, as he stood in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep and just a low-waisted pair of lounge trousers hanging on his hips.

He stared between you and Az. Took in the sight of you both. Azriel cleared his throat, fastening the buttons on his trousers. Ran a hand through his hair for a good measure. You could practically feel the panic rolling off of him in waves.

But Cassian’s lips kicked into a smirk. He glanced between you once more.

“Well.” He snickered. “It would seem the two of you have had a happy Solstice, indeed.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

all acotar tags: @moonfawnx @writingsbychlo @moonlitcelestial @orangecreamsicle54 @saturnspoet0711 @andahugaroundtheneck @nightscourtt @mysticalcheesecakemiracle @luckypersonmentality @nobody00sthings @kristalhi @tencrushesperday @janzquu @we-were-beautiful @thewarriormoon @cirwin2013 @mrs-azriel @the-kwami-of-fandom-frustration @libraryofathousandstars @daily-dose-of-sass @pixiestix13 @basicbittywitty @simplefan-638 @highlady-ofillyria @false-desire-182 @fictionalcharacterlereasigim @theofficialmadman @kemillfreitas @sledgehammer21-1 @shannonsaid @jtargs @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @new-adventures-everyday @positivewitch @crushedcloudsx @cartoonnerdgirl @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ssmay123 @linduzmunna @ruler-of-hades @kennedy-brooke @peachyandmoon @ariaaira @topaz125 @blitz-fall @azrielsbbg @gracedarr @swagfreakathletemonger @sfhsgrad-blog @lo0oserlex @ruleroftides @mayabennett03 @vera0124 @mich0731 @balam-sen @luciensbxtch @holywolfsstuff @chloesgoneposts @margssstuff

545 notes · View notes

gumi-writes · 8 months

Text

So. I was in the mood to get my thoughts out on this part of Ais’ profile:

on ais | limits unmet, unmatched

It’s obvious that Ais enjoys a good fight, but the inclusion of how he dislikes ones that are easy is an interesting, incredibly illustrative one. Seeking out violence is one thing, and such reasoning behind it can vary widely, but wanting your opponent to be a match for you is another, far more specific matter.

You’re not searching for someone to dominate, for starters—and in fact the idea bores you to the point where surely the energy spent on such lacklustre opposition would annoy you more than anything else. A waste, and an irksome one at that—there’s no sport in something that doesn’t make him work hard.

And he undeniably likes to work for it. Ais is quick to curiosity (though less in the wide-eyed sense and much more in the kind of scrutiny to intensify an already intense gaze) but even quicker to losing interest. If the novelty of the unknown is lost, then there has to be something else worth the sustained attention, otherwise Ais will move on to the next thing without looking back.

As a result, anything that can capture his attention is likely making it hard for him in some way. It would be beneath him, otherwise—what’s the point in all that tempered strength and honed acuity if it has nowhere to go?

But he does get restless, is the thing. An aspect of disliking isolation is surely the boredom that comes with it, and sometimes you have to make do. So you fight. And you fuck. And if you’re lucky, the person on the other end will make it worth your while. The years of experience you have in reading people might be of actual use, just like the stamina and endurance you’ve built up, and what an exciting thought that is.

Enough to make you search—rather actively—for it. And you can’t search for such a thing without seeking someone to meet your standards. Singular, because I do believe Ais would stop looking once he’s found the right person—while he’s definitely a whore (lol) when it comes to sleeping around, I don’t think he has quite the same mindset when it comes to bloodshed and the act of gratifying himself through it.

For that matter, I have a theory that Ocudeus occupying some part of Ais is a direct consequence of Ais’ hunt for an absolute equal. He definitely fucked around and found out, but it wasn’t what he was looking for, and because Ais is a glutton for particular punishment with absolutely no shame to spare, he hasn’t let it stop him. With reckless, heedless abandon, he hasn’t let it stop him.

Idle hands seemed a fate far worse, and never mind that the alternative made him look like a masochist. Not in the most basic of sense of the word, but how else would you describe his drive to find someone to get entangled with in the most satisfyingly violent way possible? It’s not about the pain, and he is annoyingly not pathetic about it, but Ais is a masochist in how thoroughly he wants his limits tested. He can take it. Have you seen him? He can take it, and—fucked up as he is—he wants to.

Especially since—and this is an additional theory here—Ais either has accelerated healing, hasn’t met anyone that can mark him to any significant extent, or both. This pairs quite well—or poorly—with how his lack of self-preservation bespeaks a morbid fascination with his own mortality, the most curiosity inducing thing of all.

Not that he’s in a hurry to get himself killed, and there is pride preventing him from being an outright deathseeker, but if the right person were to come along…

…then dying at the hands of someone worthy would have been well worth it.

#f: touchstarved #gumi writes #i hate ais. i'm writing this as an aisphobe #if you're wondering why i'm writing this it's because i need to get a phd in ais before i hate him effectively #but ALSO if there are any ffxivers out there ais reminds me of zenos a bit a lol #he's far less theatrical but they have the same drive when it comes to search for an equal

114 notes · View notes

dark-frosted-heart · 2 years

Note

Hiii, just wanna ask if you have the Prince Report of Gilbert? I didn't get his story (since it was like 400 hearts and I'm a f2p) 😅 thank you

I do! Get ready to learn absolutely nothing about him 😅

Gilbert asks MC what she wants to know. Getting him to agree to this interview was easier than she thought. At his urging, she sits down next to him tries to settle her nerves.

First, she asks if he has any hobbies. He asks what she thinks his hobbies are. Since she sometimes sees him in the library, she assumes it's reading. Not quite, he says. MC then brings up the fact that he reads a lot of books related to wars, and asks if he likes to read those kinds of books. He does like reading them to learn about military strategies, but it's more of a job rather than a hobby. He says his hobby is completely different, but she'll never find out. Because everyone who finds out winds up missing. Gilbert asks if she wants him to tell her, and MC moves on to the next question.

The next question is, how does Gilbert spend his time? He wonders if the people asking think he has idle time. MC clarifies that he's just not seen around often during the day. Unfortunately, Gilbert's under watch so he can't go out so casually. Even now, someone's secretly watching him, probably someone under Chevalier. MC hadn't even noticed. Well, Gilbert continues, he's hard at work during the day. And then asks if she wants to know what he does. If he doesn't mind, she says. Then he offers to have her accompany him the next time he goes to work. He can't guarantee her life though. At that, MC says she'll pass.

Next question...She looks at his cane and asks Gilbert if he has a leg injury. He doesn't, both of his legs work perfectly. When she asks why the cane then, he says it has a lot of uses. And demonstrates an example by suddenly whipping it toward her throat. He says it can be used as a weapon. The princes all have swords, having them hang at the waist is a bother. "Wouldn't a cane be easier?" he asks. He then says the cane doesn't have a hidden sword. MC asks if it's an ordinary cane. Perhaps, he says and then strokes her chin with it before setting it aside. He asks what the next question is.

The next question is one she'd like to ask out of curiosity. Are there any secrets about the other princes that only he knows? He offers one about Luke. MC almost says Luke's name informally before catching herself. Gilbert says that, while Luke is taller than his brothers, back then, he used to be smaller than the other kids his age. He worried about it so he drank milk every day and worked out to stretch his spine. He'd would also mark his height on the walls of the house every day. After all that sweat and tears, he hit a growth spurt and became the big bear he is today. Gilbert's jealous that Luke's grown taller than him. MC says it's sounded like he personally witnessed this. "Is that what it sounded like?" he asks. Luke only came to court recently, she thinks. There's no way he could have. She wonders if Gilbert heard this story from Luke himself. Even learning about the relationship between the two is a bonus for her.

Gilbert asks if that's it with the questions. MC has one more, also for her own curiosity. It's about his eyepatch. Gilbert says that even people in Obsidian want to know what's up with it. He tells MC that she can remove it herself if she wants to know. MC's surprised but then excuses herself as she reaches toward it. As her fingers move to carefully push the eyepatch up, Gilbert asks why no one knows what's under his eyepatch. She pauses and as she withdraws her hand, it's snatched up by Gilbert's cold one. He calls her a smart one. And then asks if he gets a reward for answering all of her questions. He's a little sad that he's not getting anything as thanks for taking the time to answer her questions. MC knew it was weird that he immediately agreed to the interview. Turns out this was his intention all along.

He comes up with a way she can reward him. She waits in anticipation and with a smile, he asks if she can cook something for him. Yep, her home cooking, preferring quantity over quality [me: Remember that this man can eat]. MC's thankful for his perfectly normal request. As she sighs in relief, Gilbert takes her hand and bites a finger. Hard. He tells her to hurry up before he eats her. MC will get started on it right away then. When she gets up to leave, she realizes that, despite hearing a lot of things, she didn't learn anything about Gilbert at all. He's a tough nut to crack.

#ikepri ask #ikepri summary #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp

58 notes · View notes

violetsareblue-selfships · 10 months

Note

(19 - on top of a scar/injury) with diluc OR (5 - crown of the head) with xiao — you can either do both or just pick whichever you feel like doing :D

ty~ so this post will be the diluc drabbles - I'll post the xiao ones tomorrow~

on top of a scar [(diluc receiving) 413 words]/injury [(April receiving) (411 words)] - two drabbles hehe

Diluc lets out a quiet groan and melts against the mattress, the feeling of her hands slowly soothing his muscles almost making him tear up. Just the fact that she'd been concerned enough about him when he made an idle comment about being sore that she offered to give him a massage in the first place…

He swears he falls more in love with her every single day. He doesn't know how he got someone so sweet and caring to fall in love with him, and it makes him feel like the luckiest man in Teyvat.

Slowly, the stiffness of his muscles -- one borne of too many late nights fulfilling his other duties to Mondstadt on top of those for the winery -- starts to ease and he's growing more relaxed than he's been in a long while.

"There… that's doing the trick…" April murmurs quietly, letting out a soft laugh. "It'd be better if I had your vision though. I don't think ice is what you need right now…"

Diluc lets out a quiet chuckle. "Mmm… maybe not, but that feels good either way," He says and she hums in acknowledgment.

Her hands drift down from his shoulders once there are no more knots and she slowly works down his back. As she does, her eyes settle on the scars on his upper back. She doesn't ask about them despite her burning curiosity. It's not her first time seeing them and she knows he'll tell her about what caused them when he wants to.

Instead, another urge wells up in her, one that's much more innocent and that she's able to act on. So once her hands have moved low enough to allow this, she leans down and starts slowly pressing kisses down the line of one of the scars.

Diluc breathes in sharply, knowing what she's doing. His next breath is shaky, though he's not quite sure why.

Maybe it's the feeling of tender affection on something that has only represented pain until now. Maybe it's the proof that she cares about what happened even if she doesn't ask him aloud.

Or maybe it's the fact that it's her lips against his skin. Or some combination of the three.

Either way, he doesn't move, doesn't ask her to stop (because he doesn't want her to), and soaks up her attention like a sponge. All while thinking once again of how lucky he is to have someone like her.

The fireplace crackles softly, keeping the room warm and comfortable despite the growing chill from the breezes outside. The room is silent apart from that, neither of its occupants wanting to say a word. One being focused on his task while the other is too busy staring at him.

Diluc's touch is gentle as he wraps the bandage around her wrist, every movement of his fingertips against her bare skin sending small shivers down her spine. It doesn't take much longer before he's securing the bandage and making sure it won't slip and that it isn't too tight.

"There," He murmurs quietly. Before either of them says another word, he's gently pulling her wrist closer and dipping his head down so he can brush a gentle kiss over the cut through the bandage.

April's cheeks heat up at the touch, at the warmth that spreads through her body at the sweet gesture. His eyes flick up to meet hers and his lips curl in a soft smirk as he kisses it again, a little stronger but still gentle not to disturb the healing injury.

"Why so surprised, dearest?" He murmurs, amused at how flustered she's become off of something so simple. "I've heard that it helps injuries heal faster."

April giggles softly. "And I didn't think you were the type to believe something like that, 'Luc…"

"Mm, you'd think so. Call it a remnant from my childhood that's never quite left," Diluc says, pulling away and looking at her with love and a bit of concern. "Now, was that the only injury?"

"Mhm. Thank you for patching me up, love," She says softly, glad that she has him to come back to after her commissions, especially when mishaps happen like during today's.

"It's no trouble. Just another duty of mine," He says with a wry smile as he gently squeezes her hand and moves to stand up properly. April smiles a little at his words and watches as he repacks the first aid kit and puts it back in its usual spot.

"Take it easy, dearest. I'll be back with some hot cocoa, alright?" Diluc asks and April giggles. Despite how minor the injury might be, he's always like this when she gets hurt. She nods her head and he leaves the room, leaving her to spread out on the couch to wait for his return.

Still, her heart feels warm from that whole exchange. Her Diluc really is quite sweet, isn't he?

#self shipping #self ship #f/o #romantic f/o #fictional other #thanks for the ask!#i'd melt for you 💖🍷#mika✨#my writing

5 notes · View notes

writezeel · 2 years

Text

A Kindling of Sorts - SBI OneShot

A Kindling of Sorts (12035 words) - A OneShot I wrote for the @dsmp-bigbang 2021 Accompanied by this beautiful art from @theslyvoid9 please check him out!!

Tags: Temporary Character Death, Amnesia, Grief/Mourning, Alternative Universe - Tommy Died, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Alternate Universe - Wings

Summary:

"There was a ghost on the porch. Because that person in front of him, that child, the lost piece of his heavy, guilty heart, his little brother, was dead."

After a year of grief and hurt spent tucked away in the safety of their childhood home, the rug get's pulled out from underneath them. Because Tommy is back, whole, healthy and alive. Wilbur is overjoyed, Phil is tired and Techno for once does not want to fight. A night spent in the snowbound family home brings up all the things that they had done their best to avoid.

Excerpt:

There was a ghost on the porch. Thanks to him, that person in front of him, that child, the lost piece of his guilty heart, his little brother, was dead .

~*~

The knock came when he was listlessly looking through the bookshelf near the ever-burning fireplace. The dark furniture, much older than he was himself, was filled with books and curiosities from far away servers, places his family could only try to describe.

While they had persevered, prospered, lived , he had done the opposite. The suspended purple crystal and the always flourishing chrysanthemum shoving this fact into his face every time he allowed himself to look at them.

He almost welcomed the sound, something to occupy his mind and for a moment he expected a curse or at least a sigh to follow it. He had figured it must have come from his father knocking something over in the kitchen. Teasing his dad about it would give him something to do other than sitting around and watching the flames.

He had always hated dormancy, even though the only thing he seemed to be doing the last year was being idle. Stagnant.

But no further sound came from the kitchen, it left only one other source.

Slowly he limped his way over to the thick, wooden doors, his stride - step, drag, repeat - essentially silent on the rugs he had played on as a child. In the right light, he could almost see his younger self chasing his little brother around and stumbling over the raised edges. His brown wings, as much a steady companion as his twin, showed his uneasiness, hiding behind his back. Dread was rising in his stomach, making him nauseous. Talking to others was getting harder and harder with every interaction.

He sighed quietly, his chest rattling with a deep breath. He had been good at talking once.

~*~

“Power isn't gained from diplomacy and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky,” His voice was sure, smooth, confidence oozing from his words, wings spread wide, “It's gained from swords, Quackity; it's gained from blades, it's gained from steel, iron.”

~*~

Stilling in front of the door he thought about who could be outside, there weren’t many faces that still showed themselves in these parts. As a child he had hated how far away the house was from any other kind of civilization, now he enjoyed the quiet, as unnatural as it still seemed.

His old friend, family at this point, would look at him with pity in her eyes, trying to empathize with his regrets. Her own woes were being pushed away, always prioritizing others over herself. The little ram, looking more and more like his old friend - enemy - would be far worse. The grief and resentment making them both cruel and callous. Their talks, few and far between as they were nowadays, ending in an even deeper chasm between them. To think they were as close as family once. The enderman hybrid, an outsider, had no real connection to his past. He didn’t see what sins he committed. Maybe the child’s naivete was why his twin had taken a liking to that one. He was sure the bright eyes and big smile reminded his twin of their younger brother. The fox would break him, even more than he already was. Someone who used to look at him like he hung the stars in the sky once, now glaring at him with the same disgust he felt for himself. Anyone else, just a speck of dark grey on his periphery.

Even though he was almost ready to call for his father to let him handle the visitor he started leaning on the cumbersome door handle, a leftover remnant from the time he was still a child.

Heavy doors kept children inside. At least that had been his father’s plan, once upon a time. It had never worked when he was small. It worked now, ever-present fatigue making him feel weak and useless. A burden more than anything, no matter what his family told him.

With a deep sigh, one he wanted to join, the door opened up to the cold air of the plains and trees that surrounded the house. The spruce trees were covered in snow with no color showing through the frost. The porch had been taken over by snow again, it coming up to his knee. The need for an awning was something he would have to bring up with the rest of the house. The cold pressed deep into his lungs. In between the piles of white was a flash of red, an odd sight in this color scheme. For the first time in months, his eyes focused on a set point.

“Tommy ?” The name was like a prayer on his lips.

8 notes · View notes

badderdecisions · 9 months

Text

I’ve always wondered why is it that I feel empty after finishing a show I like a lot. I would feel this every time I’d watch something I really like. I haven’t felt this way in a while because I’ve just been watching reality TV, mostly the Real Housewives. Although it does make me feel empty whenever a season finishes, I know that there still will be another season next year or another franchise to watch. Basically, it’s endless unless it gets cancelled. I’ve just been watching shows like that for a while but now I’ve been watching TV series a lot. I started watching Pretty Little Liars out of boredom and curiosity. I never expected to like but I ended up finishing it. As soon as I finished, I felt empty. And to avoid the feeling getting worse, I had to look for its replacement, which was the Desperate Housewives. Now I’m about to finish it and I’m scared of feeling empty again. I thought it was just me who felt this- but it turns out some people do as well. While watching Desperate Housewives, I was able to finish a short Japanese drama during the weekend. I just finished the whole show in just two days and I do actually feel empty now, and probably much more when I conclude watching Desperate Housewives.

My depression has been acting up lately. These days, I find myself riddled with fear at times, confused as to what would make me happy or what would make the depression go away, and filled with so many thoughts. Things that usually made me happy don’t evoke the same feeling anymore. I find myself unmotivated, empty and to make things worse, just really uncertain as to what makes me still want to live. I’m not saying I want to stop living but the fact that I can’t find the reason to live upsets me. The shows that I liked always served as temporary companions. I’ve come to know that indeed.. they provide an escape. You get so engrossed in the stories that it makes you live the fantasy through your screen. But once that fantasy ends, you can’t help but feel empty. While everyone in the show gets an ending; whether it would be for good or for worse, you don’t get one. You’re still the same and you’re faced with something you might’ve been subconsciously avoiding. Life. At least in my case. These shows gave me a reason to be excited, to have something to do after work or during. It gave me a reason to go out and stay in cafes just so I could be around people. They gave me something to do just so my idle mind wouldn’t welcome bad thoughts. Rewatching would never give me the same satisfaction or emotions as to when I first watched.

Endings indeed make me sad. It makes me wonder if it was ever related to my dad… I was forced to face an ending and that was his life. I lost the potential of mending our relationship. I never got my preferred ending with him. I don’t know what’s more painful however.. a sudden ending or just knowing when it would come? I love my dad so much. He’s been on my mind a lot lately. I just wish the thought of him would make me more happy than sad. When faced with an ending.. all you can ever go back to is memories. Maybe even a vivid recollection about the feelings you had during those experiences, but you can never feel them again. Not in the same or purest way. When an end comes, we lose something as well.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.. I��m just really feeling empty right now.

#personal

0 notes

lighthouseborna · 1 year

Text

Interview Henry while he's Drunk (+inspo questions!) || @tiderider

“What made you come to the Isle?”

Henry hummed, low and contemplative, as his chin sank onto his folded arms. He was forced to look up at Harry. It was easier to focus, this way, ignore the tilt of everything else. Easier to study the intensity Harry wore like a well-tailored suit. A second skin. A first skin, even, natural or something nearly like it.

“They forgot,” Henry said.

And that was another thing about sitting this way, all folded over and stretched out at the same time. Head listing to match the weird slant of things that had spun 'round the other way again. That was the thing- it was a new angle to new angles. New view of hidden.... at least, not quite obviously presented facts to questions that could have been idle conversation. Simple curiosity. But oh so very much were not: he was being tested. He knew it, and still found the question curious anyway. To be issued a test at all, knowing or unknowing. What could he do either way, when he didn't yet know what it was that Harry Hook even was, or wanted from him. What he was testing for, here, where even the drinks hit back.

He was dizzier than he thought he'd ever been before. Henry gave in and laid his head all the way down, closing his eyes. So that he could think without the distraction of all that intensity. Still, it took a dragging second (in which he frowned lightly, and resettled his head) before he remembered he had to speak aloud for Harry to hear him. He opened his eyes again.

“Those four...flagshipped Ben's idea. An' then... all anyone said was about the Isle. The rest of 'them', still here, whether they should.. be there. Mostly whether they should be sent back... but it was. Something. Something...” That no one had ever spoken about for, so openly. Just how evil are these kids? Mostly asked as hyperbole, but still, being asked. And then- “Then... the coronation. An' Maleficent gone. Barrier restored an' .. it stopped. They stopped.” He gestured, annoyed. “They forgot. The Isle jus'... disappeared. But I couldn't.. couldn't stop. Thinking about it. About you.” Not, strictly speaking, Harry, and yet... exactly him. The ones left behind and smothered for no fault of their own. He sat up now, light frown now fully formed, indignation lending focus and animation to what had previously been a very sleepily slipping Henry. “I've never.. never known what t'do about it, you know. No voice there—

'You know they moved everyone? Mm, all of... all of Shipwreck. Stuck half of us on the isle and the other half on the island and... named it. Painted it... like a park, an attraction. There's two kinds of pirate now, mind you, the kind that hunt children n' the kind that... drink and sing funny songs. Rooted everything else up! Called it justice. Sent Jack here for what happened to my father, but didn't do a thing to undo it until mum cornered them into it.” He gave a wordless noise of displeasure, shaking his head sharply. It was just a wave now. Something he couldn't have stopped if he tried, the words simply rushing forward, crashing out. “I never.. knew what I could do about it. Any of it. 'Til they forgot and I figure... figured I'm old enough. Strong enough. To do something from here. Probably ought to have been here anyway. From the start. Hm-

'I came.. because the walls- the barrier. The isolation. The way they forgot. That's all...something made- forced. But every wall's got holes in it, mm? They make it hard to find 'em, but ... if it was impossible, really impossible, for me to do anything... I couldn't be here could I? I can't pull it down, like that- I don't have. The...” He didn't know what to call it. Only knew it was neither a skill he possessed nor a thing he'd be right in trying to do, taking that lead. “But I can prove the holes are there. An' I can prove not everyone forgets, not everyone out there stands with the crown.” What thing, to make crown an insult like that. “Maybe it takes another twenty years 'fore this goes anywhere else, I don't know, but 'long as I'm here there's no one can say "it cannot be defied" is there? Can't say nobody looks, nobody remembers, nobody cares. You've got proof someone does.” He shook his head again. Something. It was something. And that was better than nothing, wasn't it?

“It was all I could think to do. Help here, if I could.”

#ic.#tiderider #𝐕. the seeds fall far from this earthbound town ( descendants au )

1 note · View note

ravenmolars · 2 years

Text

Anna

“So how do you become a boy?”

I found myself studying her with an intensity I rarely applied to children. She had my sister’s eyes, the outline of her face followed the same exact lines, but the way she carried herself was undeniably different. It was in the grit stuck between her fingernails, the defiant soldier-like puff of her chest and the way she looked at me directly in the eye with as much genuine curiosity as there was what could have been envy. She had the ready-to-pounce springiness of an anxious young lad.

“What a silly question!” Maureen, my sister, interjected from across the table. “Why don’t you go find Will and Mason?”

“How do you become a boy, uncle Tom?”

I pretended to poke at a slice of bacon with as much idle disinterest as could be mustered while having a watching parent breathe down my neck. In truth I was hooked. “Why would you want to become a boy?”

“Because girls are all about dress up and throwing pretend parties and pretend this and pretend that and boys get guns and swords and arrows and they get to build forts.”

“What’s so bad about dress-up? when I was your age I loved pretty dresses.” spoke her mum while inserting a knife into a fried egg.

“So you would become a boy just to get guns and swords?”

She nodded. The look in her eyes was as noticeable as ever.

Maureen was using her fork to stir the ruptured yolk with mashed potatoes. I could see the eyes staring at me from the back of her head

“Silly girl!” I would say. “What’s there to like about guns and swords? If you’re born a lady then you’re a lady or a lad a lad. Always been that way! Now cease these silly thoughts and go find your cousins!” and I would watch as the glow in her eyes went out like a candle and gray over.

But that’s not what I said.

“Well, I think that’s a neat little thought you have there. While I can’t make you magically pop up in boy’s skin, I think what’s more important is that you see yourself as one. In fact, I think that’s all there is to being a boy, that you see and carry yourself like a young man, and as long as you still believe in that part of yourself, in time people would start calling you a lad.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Maureen’s hand give a little tremor, barely noticeable to maybe even his husband but I knew exactly where to look after all these decades under the same roof.

When Anna had left the room and was most likely out of earshot she turned to me. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

“Why not?”

“You might give her ideas.”

“I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“I’d like her to stay a girl.”

“Your daughter would say otherwise.”

“what good is there to be a boy anyway? when we were her age you and James and Charles would go hunting and one of you would be bound to come back hurt and crying.”

“You can’t blame her. You ladies have been allowed to vote for only what? Ten years? If I were her I would want to be a boy too.”

“You can’t expect her to understand that!”

“Doesn’t change my point.” I said, spearing my own egg.

“She’s just a child. Don’t entertain her silly ideas.”

“Didn’t seem silly to me. You should’ve seen your daughter. Deadpan serious.”

“I still don’t want you telling her stuff like that.”

Sensing that there wasn’t much space left for argument I threw up my arms in mock surrender. “Yes ma’am!”

It was difficult to judge Anna’s maturity, in the same way it was difficult for all children. Both her parents said that she was a silly girl who should learn to grow up, as did Mrs. Taylor, the nosy teacher who taught her things like reading and adding up numbers. In a way she knew she was acting silly herself, when she entertained ideas like going to bed in a certain position then waking up the next morning completely changed into a boy like her cousins. But then you can also say she wasn’t childish at all, that she had a certain early-for-her-age maturity about her, because otherwise how would she know she was being silly in the first place?

Will and Mason were like two sides of the same coin. while they had the same eyes and nose Mason was both taller and leaner than his younger sibling, who was stocky and had a noticeably rounder face. The difference still would not have been comical if it weren’t for Mason’s ears, which were oversized like a mouse’s and jutted beyond the outline of his head. He was also the shrewder and more adventurous of the two.

“You wouldn’t believe this rabbit hole I found! It’s just across the hill. last time I saw two of ‘em leave. there’s an entire den of little un’s inside I’m tellin’ you.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, what if it’s a fox den?”

“We’ll catch some foxes ’en.”

“What if one of them jumps out and bites us?”

“Foxes don’t bite. We saw one at the market. Tame as a dog.”

“What if we get rabies?”

“I want to go!”

The two of them looked at her with the same curiosity and shock as one would have while regarding a particularly strange breed of dog, and it might as well be true. Neither had spent much time around the peculiar species their parents called “girls”.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just that you’re a girl.” it was Will who spoke.

“I’m not a girl.”

“But you are.”

Mason was apparently too anxious to wait until the end of the argument. “Great! that makes the two of us! I’ll lead the way!”

The two of them marched past hills and the occasional flock of sheep, dragging a protesting Will behind. It was unusually cold and windy for late June and the English countryside occasionally blasted massive gusts that forced the trio to turn around and walk backwards. At one point Mason, still leading, tripped and rolled the entire distance downhill. Much to Anna’s giggling amusement. He got up, dusting off the bits of grass and mud caking his pants, his face red.

The “den” if one could call it that, turned out to be a disappointment, a dusty hole in the earth under an apricot tree. For the span of twenty minutes Anna was crouched over it, making what she thought were rabbit noises before dangling a blade of grass over the entrance like a fisherman’s lure. Her pursuits went unanswered.

In time she gave up. “What are you doing?”

Mason was already halfway up the tree, clumsily perched between two branches like the bear she had seen in picture books. The canopy bowed and shook in the wind.

“Apricots!” he shouted, cheerfully, pointing towards the crown. Anna peered between the leaves and saw flashes of sunset orange among the emerald.

“He’s not going to make it.” said his younger sibling, also glancing upwards.

Indeed Will was right. Ten minutes later he had gained barely a meter in altitude and his legs had started shaking as if they were mounting their own protest, bringing the entire tree rattling with them. Five minutes later he gave up, dismounting from the branches, his arms bruised and with no apricots to show. Somehow he still had the energy to convince his younger brother to repeat his mistake in the way only siblings could. Will made even less progress, hardly managing to lift himself to the first fork before losing his grip and falling to the ground in a graceless heap.

Anna couldn’t take more of it. “I’ll go.”

The two of them glanced at her with the same incredulity as before, albeit accented by exhaustion. It was Mason who spoke first.

“You’re a girl.”

“I told you, I’m not a girl!”

“You won’t make it.”

“Would you want to bet?”

Neither spoke, much to her private delight. It was hard to tell if it was purely out of exhaustion.

She started climbing the tree in much the same way she saw her cousins did, using stumps and forks as footholds and positioning her weight so that they didn’t give out under her. When there were no overhanging branches to step on it sufficed to use friction, Anna dug the sole of her shoe into the bark until it left green wounds starting to ooze sap, then she hoisted her other leg up onto the opposite branch, leaning on the first one for support. But that wasn’t why she did better than her cousins. If there was one thing she truly excelled at it was that she was clever in how to avoid exhaustion. She positioned her arms and upper torso in such a way so that they would never be strained. When she felt the faintest hint of a tremor start to radiate from her leg she knew it was time to reposition it in a way that didn’t require bending at odd angles.

While the siblings knew that it was bad manners to laugh when misfortune befell ladies they were still expecting her to give up when she started scaling the branches. To say that such feelings transitioned to shock, then awe was an understatement, as she hoisted herself into a perching position a full ten meters above their heads.

Anna scanned the treetops for the apricots she saw from the ground. A thunderhead had reared up in the distance, it’s anvil-shaped top angry and boiling. the wind had picked up considerably, the leaves clapped and rustled, the branch she had crawled on bowed under the gust and she felt her weight starting to shift as she tightened her grip reassuringly. One of the ripe fruits beamed a sunset orange smile from between the canopy.

“You see ‘em?”

“I’ll see if I can reach them.” she said as she extended a scratched and bruised arm. There were perhaps half a dozen in total-much less than the three of them had observed from the ground.

she twisted the apricot in such a way so that it’s stem was severed and it dropped to the ground in a muffled thud. There was a rustling in the grass beneath as the siblings scrambled after it.

“How is it?”

“You split it open! There’s now dirt and gunk inside.”

“It’s not my fault! Can’t you see how high up I am?”

“Can you drop them...slower?”

“No.”

“Can you at least try?”

She ignored them as she went after the second of them, followed by the third and fourth. She was at the sixth and last when there was a gust of wind that slammed into her like a wall. She tightened her grip again. Her left foot started to slip as the branch bobbed like a horse, a sinking in her gut as it descended followed by a rebound so strong it threatened to send her sailing.

And there was a joy welling up inside her she had never felt before.

“Annie? Can you try getting down?”

“No!”

“I think we should go home. It’s going to rain soon.”

They weren’t sure if they should feel more surprised or terrified when she started to whoop, as she held her face straight into the wind, it tangled up her hair, she could hardly open her eyes as the gust roared into her like a crashing wave, perched among the treetops, shouting, whooping, the sound of it carrying across the hills as the first raindrops touched the branches.

#writing #creative writing #nonfiction #writeblr #original writing #short stories #short story

0 notes

stealforreal · 3 years

Text

Future kids - Todoroki Shoto I

Todoroki meets his children from the future. Part 2 is up now you can find it on my tumblr masters list. Or click [here]

Todoroki Shoto x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Todoroki was understandably confused. One moment he was eating his cold soba in peace and quiet, the next a little girl came barreling into him. Clinging onto his pant leg for dear life, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Todoroki tensed, even if he was coming out of his shell, dealing with a little child while not having complete control over his flames terrified him. What if he ended up hurting her, when he wanted to help? He refused to be like his father. hurting small children.

A small tug on his leg brought him out of his thoughts, and back to the reality that a young girl probably no older than 6 was clinging to him. He could feel his pants getting wetter by the minute, drenched in the redheaded little princess’ tears. Kneeling down to her height, he put a hand on her head and pattet it gently. It was the only form of comfort he could think of would be appropriate. “ Hey snowflake, where's your parents?” Todoroki asked the little girl, making her look up at the stranger whom she was clinging to. A small gasp escaped her lips, as she began to sob harder and cling to him even more if that was even possible. “ I-Im so so sorry daddy *sniff* I can’t find Ren” Todoroki stiffened. Daddy? He wasn’t a dad, not yet anyways. But that didn’t matter when he was comforting a young girl, so he would play along for the time being. Besides he felt drawn to the little snowflake, maybe it was the fact that she was comfortable enough to seek comfort from him. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like him, with beautiful heterochromia eyes, one classic Todoroki cerulean blue and one e/c.

“ Take a deep breath, little snowflake. Can you tell me what year it is?” His usual monotone tone, took on a softer note talking to the girl. He was kneeling at her height, rubbing small circles on her small back, while she clung to his shirt, sobbing in his chest. She looked up at him with her big mismatched doe eyes brimming with tears “ Its 20xx” okay weird that is 15 years in the future, Shoto wasn’t stupid this was probably the work of a quirk. He then proceeded to ask her if she was indeed hit by a quirk.

She told him that apparently her and her twin brother Ren, were playing with some of their friends at a park. But when they were playing tag one of their friends got their quirk, and the twins got separated. When Reina, as she told him her name was, woke up and couldn’t find her twin brother Ren she began to panic. Then she began looking for him, but then she recognized the dual colored hair and ran to him.

In between her telling the story and sniffling quitely, Shoto had picked her up. While she was calming down in his arms, he began making his way back to the campus grounds. Mr.Aizawa would hopefully know what to do, and maybe they would find Ren on the way. It broke his heart to hear her sniffle, his little snowflake crying was heart wrenching. Even if she technically wasn’t born yet, she was still his little snowflake and he would protect her no matter the cost. He was so possessive of his little girl already and he had only met her 1 hour ago, he promised himself then and there that he would be a better father than Endeavor ever was.

Her sniffles and sobs stopped, and her trembling figure relaxed in his hold. He could feel the little one's gaze on him, and he turned his head to her tilting his head a bit to ask what was wrong. “ Why do you look so young, daddy? '' She asked with the little innocent voice of an angel, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her question. “ Well my little snowflake, right now I’m 16 and you haven’t exactly been born yet. I’m guessing your friend's quirk is something along the lines of time travel” he patiently explained to her, she nodded her head along as if she understood him. And if she inherited his intelligence, she just might have understood what he just told her completely.

The walk back to the dorms were filled with idle chatter, Shoto asking Reina about his future and how he was as a father. To which she exclaimed with a bright toothless smile ‘Daddys the best daddy in the whole world’ and he was so relieved that he wasn’t a horrible father like his own was to him. He ended up stopping for a minute so Shoto could pepper her with small soft kisses all over her cute slightly chubby cheeks. Her squeals of excitement warmed his heart, and a soft smile made its way on his face.

To onlookers they looked like a cute set of siblings, and small aw’s and so cute were heard in the background. But inside their little bubble, nothing could burst Shoto’s happiness at knowing he wouldn’t repeat his fathers mistakes. The long walk back to the dorms felt a lot shorter with his little snowflake talking his ear off. It was adorable really, she stumbled over a few words every once and awhile. She told him all about her and Ren’s adventures, how they accidentally froze their teacher when Ren got his quirk, and how he had to come and free the teacher.

Shoto was inexplicably happy that Ren got his quirk from his mothers side. But one thing caught his attention was the mention of their mother. He realized that Reina not once had mentioned her name, and as much as Shoto would hate to admit it he was beyond curious as to who he would ultimately spend his life with. A big part of him hoped that it was you, since he had finally found out what the fuzzy feeling he had around you was. Yep Todoroki Shoto was utterly and completely enamored by you, your personality was sweet and you would do anything for family and friends. Alongside Midoriya you were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

The closer to the dorms the two Todorokis came, the more his curiosity nagged him to ask his daughter who her mother was. When he could see the height alliance building a little longer down the road, his curiosity won. “ Snowflake, you never told me your mom's name. '' Reina brightened when he asked about his future wife, a big tell that his little girl adored her mother as much as she adored her father. '' Silly daddy, mom's name is Todoroki y/n of course, ``she said giggling. A bright smile adorned his handsome features as Todoroki stepped into the dorm's living room with Reina still in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

Class 1-A consecutively looked towards the door when it opened. They were trying to calm down the child that was crying on their sofa, who also happened to look suspiciously like their dual haired classmate. The young boy had dual colored hair and cerulean blue eyes, his hair was half white and half y/h/c. The child was obviously confused and scared, and had only stopped wailing when Kaminari short circuited. But alas he was still sobbing and the class was almost out of ideas. He had been asking about his parents, and calling for a person named Reina.

There in the door stood a smiling Todoroki, holy damn was the world ending. But what also caught their attention was the little redhead in his arms hugging him, the little girl's voice reached them and their jaws dropped. “ Daddy, is this the place you and mommy met?” It was such an innocent question, but 1-A was in a frenzy, so much so that they didn’t notice the little boy springing up from the couch and dashing toward Todoroki and the girl. They only came back to earth when a small happy “Daddy” was heard.

Todoroki was about to answer Reina’s question, when he heard the little cry “Daddy”. He turned his head towards the sound and so did Reina, she began bouncing in Shoto’s arms. “ Ren '' She shouted, making Shoto bend down and extend his arm that wasn’t holding Reina. Ren launched himself into Shoto’s chest, and Reina began hugging her twin brother as much as she could in their fathers embrace. “ Don’t worry my little snowflake, daddy’s got you” He whispered softly, calming Ren immediately. The rest of the class stood gobsmacked, daddy?

“Now my little snowflakes, let's go find Mr. Aizawa, so you can go home” Shoto’s arms were full, his little boy on one arm and his little girl on his other arm. How is he supposed to open the door? “ Midoriya, would you come with me to open the door?” Shoto’s tone was monotone as always, but slightly softer in the presence of his children. Midoriya simply nodded dumbfounded, nobody said a word. What were they supposed to say, with all the daddy claims, and seeing the children in the arms of their classmate confirmed it. They looked like the spitting image of the dreamy heterochromia boy, but with some tweaks. There were the y/h/c and the girls one e/c eye, that obviously must’ve come from their mothers side.

On the way to the teacher dormitories, the twins talked excitedly with each other, while Shoto explained the situation to Midoriya. Midoriya felt like he had seen the features on the twins that certainly didn’t come from Todoroki’s side, but with how much they looked like their father it was nearly mission impossible.

Coincidentally on her way to Mr. Aizawa as well, you spotted the tuft of green hair and tufts of red and white hair. Hm, must be on their way to Mr.Aizawa as well you thought. Jogging up to them, you poked Midoriya’s shoulder. Even if you were in class 1-B, you had a pretty good friendship with the cute green haired cinnamon roll. Your quirks were similar in a sense, since yours was a boost of strength as well. Not nearly as strong as Midoriya’s, but still. That is why you were training partners, and through him you had met his friend circle. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see Midoriya and Todoroki together.

But when they turned to you, you were left flabbergasted by the two cuties in Todoroki’s arms. Before the boys could react, Ren began squirming chanting ‘mommy’. Shoto sat him and Reina down, because she too began squirming once they caught sight of you. The two children that were previously in Todoroki’s arms, now tackled you in a hug. “Daddy look, we found mommy” they said in unison. Two children around 6 years old launching at you, could make even the best of them fall on their butts. Which was exactly what happened, they were squeezing you as tight as their small forms would allow.

Choosing to ignore the small ‘mommy and daddy’ comment, you carefully scooped them up in your arms. The look that Shoto gave you was enough to go along with this little charade, he looked at the three of you like you were his entire world. His eyes were shining with happiness, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. Lightly bouncing the ecstatic but sleepy children in your arms, you turned your attention to the two males before you. “ You wouldn’t happen to need Mr.Aizawa as well, would you?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. The two boys nodded, and you began walking again towards the teachers dormitory. You sent Todoroki a small pointed glare, silently commanding him to explain the situation.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt shorter than usual, since your attention was occupied. Todoroki explained his theory that a quirk sent the twins to the past, and that the two of you were their parents. As crazy as that sounded it made so much sense, and looking at the children you would lie if you said you didn’t see the resemblance. Midoriya explained how Ren was crying before Todoroki arrived, and how confused they were when they heard the little boy yelling ‘daddy’. Ren was probably the most scared, since he didn’t recognize anyone in his panicked state. Besides, most of the students probably look a lot different in the future, so it's kind of a miracle that the twins recognized you. Shoto will always be pretty easy to recognize, with his distinct hair, eyes and the showstopping scar. It complimented the handsome teen next to you so well, no wonder he was one of UAs top heartthrobs. Stopping for a second, you just realize something. If the twins in your arms are you and Todoroki's, then that means that you ended up scoring the half-n-half quirk user. Nothing could wipe the shiteating grin that made its way on your face, eliciting concerned and curious glances from the males beside you.

Mr.Aizawa had his fair share of strange situations. He had been teaching at UA for some time, and student’s quirks weren’t always a walk in the park. Never had he ended up in a situation quite like this though, he had to rub his eyes twice to make sure it was real. In front of him were 2 out of Class-1A’s trouble makers and one of his favorite students from Class-1B, they had two small children with them. Easily recognized as twins, and they looked like the half - n- half troublemakers children.

This was going to be a long night.

#mha #mha x reader #dad au #shoto todoroki #mha midoriya #mha todoroki #mha x y/n #dad todoroki #Twins #timetravel #quirks #Shoto is so cute #futurekids

577 notes · View notes

tiffdawg · 3 years

Text

Everlasting | A Javier Peña x Fem!Reader Miniseries

Gif: @javier-pena

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2k

Rating: T | Warnings: A little bit of angst but a whole lot of pining. Overall story rating will be M.

A/N: My first fic update in months! How I’ve missed you all. This is just a fun little miniseries I’ve wanted to share for so long! This story is all because @miss-me-jack and I were dreaming about step dad!Javi (hint hint) forever and ever ago. A big thank you to @themilesgmorales for letting me ramble about this constantly and hyping me up when I needed it most!

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Part One

“Get dressed.”

Chucho’s voice was soft but the command was stern. Familiar. Javier narrowed his eyes at his father from his spot on the couch. He was still in the clothes he’d worn to the morning mass Javier had refused to attend. It was a Sunday afternoon and there was no pressing work to be done around the ranch and Javier had intended to do little more than polish off the six-pack waiting for him in the fridge.

“Why?” he finally asked out of curiosity.

“You’ve hardly left this house since you got home three months ago.”

“I’m retired,” Javier joked without humor.

“I didn’t let you move back home so you could sit around feeling sorry for yourself all day,” Chucho replied tersely. “Now, get up. And wear something nice.”

Javier eyed him skeptically for a moment but, lacking a decent rebuttal and knowing deep down that his father was right, he acquiesced with a sigh.

… . …

Javier slammed the passenger door of his dad’s old truck behind him as he slid his aviators to the top of his head and scanned the scene before him, eyes squinting in the bright spring sunlight. His dad had driven them to a local park, one Javier frequented both as a kid with old friends on hot summer days and a teenager looking for a place to drink late on weekend nights. In fact, he still had a scar on his elbow from the time you’d dared him to climb the ancient oak tree in the center of the park and he’d drunkenly agreed only to fall flat on ass. A small smirk played on his lips at the memory.

Now, a dozen or so kids chased each other around a brand-new playground while a group of adults looked on from the picnic tables decorated with pink tablecloths and a few matching balloons. The kid’s squeals of joy and the parent’s idle chatter was cut only by the light music drifting from a portable boombox. He couldn’t spot a single familiar face in the crowd.

His dad came around the car, slapped a hand on his back, and pushed him forward.

“Pops, why the hell are we at a kid’s birthday party?” he asked even as his feet led him toward the chaos.

“You’ll see.”

“What the fuck…” he trailed off, hist question forgotten when his eyes landed on you.

You looked exactly like he remembered. Effortlessly beautiful in a white button down and cut-off and at ease amongst a crowd. Politely excusing yourself from your current conversation, you greeted Chucho warmly with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Still a few steps back, he watched the interaction closely as the two of you caught up. More than that, it sounded like he’d seen you often over the years. It was a small town. Or at least that’s what he told himself. And even after all these years, your smile was exactly as Javier remembered. Bright and beautiful and irresistible. The kind of smile that set your eyes alight and sparked a fire deep inside his chest. He’d naively thought time and distance would fix that. Not for the first time, he was wrong.

Javier snapped back into his senses when he felt his dad press a small, wrapped box against his hand before walking away to join the party. That left the two of you. Alone.

At least you were still smiling. Only now it was almost bashful as you tucked your hands in the back pockets of your jeans and rocked on the balls of your feet. A nervous habit he remembered fondly.

“How long has it been?” Javier asked, unsure where to start.

“Oh, god... a decade?” you suggested with a laugh. Reaching up cautiously, you ran the pad of your thumb over the lines in the corner of his eye. “Too long,” you added softly. Before he could so much as lean into your touch a wicked grin split your face. “You got old, Javi.”

Didn’t he know it. He let his eyes trail the length of your body. “You look better than ever.”

“Still a charmer, I see. Guess some things never change.”

And just like that, the two of you fell into your old repertoire.

“You have any idea whose party this is?” he asked, glancing down at the gift wrapped perfectly in pastel pink paper.

“Actually, I have an in with the birthday girl.” You turned to the crowd of kids and waved one over. A young girl sprinted toward you and jumped into your arms. You caught her with ease but faked a groan as you hoisted her up, settling her on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t believe how big you’re getting.” She giggled, showing off her toothy grin.

That smile hit him like a cold bucket of water and his very blood seemed to freeze in his veins. That was your smile.

“Your daughter?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. As ridiculous as it was, some dark, traitorous part of his mind that he couldn’t even begin to understand had the audacity to be jealous. As if you weren’t supposed to have someone else’s child. The last time he saw you, you were moving into your new home – with your husband.

He’d thought about you often over the years, usually late at night when the job kept him from sleeping and his mind liked to wander, to drown him with old memories and conjure up an alternative life where he was actually happy. He pushed away those dangerous thoughts as he glanced between you.

Before you could answer, the little girl whispered to you loud enough that he could hear. “Mama,” she started excitedly as she tugged on the collar of your shirt, “it that Javi?”

Both she and Javier looked to you for an answer.

“Yes, it is,” you answered, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself wiping a smudge of dirt off the girl’s cheek. Something between his ribs constricted at the thought of you telling your daughter about him even after all these years. “Javi, this is my daughter Elsie.”

“We have cake,” she offered as a greeting. He raised a brow. A bit strange, but what did he know about the mind of a kid. He played along anyway.

“How many candles are on top?” he asked. Elsie held up three fingers and you gently corrected her. She tried again, this time proudly displaying four tiny fingers.

“This must be for you,” he said, holding out the gift. She thanked him politely as she gently took it from his hands with a look that could only be described as childlike wonder.

“Why don’t you put that with the other gifts and go play with your friends,” you suggested. She ran off as soon as her sneakers hit the ground. As you turned to watch her fondly, he caught sight of the small tattoo that matched the faded one tucked behind his ear. “Help yourself to some food. There are juice boxes in the blue cooler but if you dig to the bottom of the red one you might find a couple of beers,” you explained with a wink, oblivious to the thoughts swirling around his mind.

He nodded but before you could walk away, he reached for your hand. “How did she know who I was?”

“Oh,” you started, looking down at your feet rather than at him, “I, um, I still have that old photo of us at your dad’s fiftieth hanging in my office at home.”

“The one where you smeared frosting on my face?” he asked, feigned annoyance lacing his voice.

“Yup,” you answered with a satisfied grin. Then you shook your head. “For whatever reason, she’s obsessed with it. Kids are weird like that.”

Javier had a copy of that photograph stashed away somewhere, but he hadn’t looked at it in quite some time. It’d been years since any memory of you didn’t spark a dull, burning pain in his chest. More than a decade. Still, he remembered his fake scowl almost as well as he remembered your brilliant smile. Hell, he could still hear the musical laugh that bubbled past your lips in that moment.

“It’s a good photo,” he offered after a beat.

“Yeah. A good memory too.”

Your hand slipped from his but Javier followed without hesitation.

… . ...

With her infectious laugh and easy way of interacting with everyone she met and leaving them happier for it, Elsie reminded Javier so much of you. Two bright souls in a disappointingly dark world. In between games of tag with her friends, she charmed the adults who in turn showered her in affection. Even now that she’d blown out her four candles and the cake was cut, she insisted on helping you pass out slices to her friends and family.

“Gracias, niñita,” Chucho said as she carefully handed him a plate.

“De nada,” she answered cheerily.

“Cute kid,” Javier commented absentmindedly as Elsie bounded off.

“Just like her mamá.”

“No kidding,” Javier scoffed. He then lowered his voice as he leaned close enough to his dad to ask the question that had bothered him all afternoon without anyone overhearing. “Where’s John?”

“They divorced a few years ago,” he replied as he drank from his bottle of beer. “From what I heard it was messy.”

Javier’s heart sank. That was the last thing he wanted for you. You were supposed to be happily married with a white picket fence – everything you ever wanted. That’s what he’d thought he’d left you with. Hell, that’s what he always told himself on those long, lonely nights.

A soft tapping on his hand drew him from his thoughts as Elsie offered him a paper plate with a generous slice of cake.

“Thanks for coming to my party, Javi,” she said as she handed it to him.

“Thanks for the cake,” he retorted with a wink.

Elsie giggled into her hand and ran off to take her place at the head of the kid’s table.

It was then he noticed you watching the scene with an amused grin. “You don’t have any kids?” you teased as you sat next to him. “You’re a natural.”

“None that I know of,” he said dryly. You made a face and he quickly brushed past his comment. “Never married.”

“So I heard.” Your tone lacked its previous playfulness and his eyes dropped to your fidgeting hands. Perhaps unconsciously, you touched your own bare ring finger. “If you’re free anytime this week, maybe we could grab a drink.” you suggested tentatively.

“Are you asking me on a date?” he asked suggestively, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You wish.” You rolled your eyes at him but laughed. “I just figured we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I’d like that,” he answered seriously that time, earning himself another one of your sweet smiles. Before he could so much as suggest a day, you dipped your finger into the pink frosting of his cake and dabbed it on his nose. You suppressed a laugh while he resisted an old, familiar urge to kiss you. Javier was never meant to survive an encounter with you.

“I’m really glad you’re back, Javi,” you said as you stood to rejoin the rest of the party.

“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled as he watched you leave. For the first time in the three months since he left Colombia, that felt true.

So he just ignored his father’s mumbled “you should listen to me more often, mijo.”

... . ...

Thank you so much for reading!

... . ...

Forever Tags: @moskaisley @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @bucketheadredacted @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses @themilesgmorales @themilkface @mylifeliterally @mskitty79 @rosiefridayrogersunday @perropascal @giselatropicana @roxypeanut @divineangelix @sarahjkl82-blog @kylerr @aerolanya @artsymaddie @linkpk88 @antisocialshipper @toastytaurus @321-lets-go @kesskirata @gredandfeorgesgirl @lou-la-lou @helga1031 @ktmadden86 @lesbianlena @mtjoi @pedropascaldice @swimmingsloths @lovelyasfcuk @technicallykawaiisoul @cinewhore @ali-cide @iamskyereads @magpie-to-the-morning @stardust-galaxies @melaniermblt @jenrebloggingfics @gondowan @pedro-pastel

Javier Peña Tags: @wander-lustbabe @triggerhappyflygirl @northernpunk @lindsaybluthforlife @michaelgaryscottismydad @witchqraft @harrys-stan @valeecruz16 @hufflepuff-ophelia @bees-fart-too @nyasiaaaaa @stackedpaperbacks @stardust-fray @lazybeeches @1800-fight-me @sxndythinkstoomuch @aleishabeck @leonieb @fvriosa @the-horny-virgin @fireproofmarta @radiowallet @januaryonlakestreet @callitdreamland @thewayofthemandalorian @frogllady @northernpunk @coni-martina @captainjaspenor @stardust-fray @lazybeeches @spideysimpossiblegirl @pedrostories

(I apologize if I forgot to tag you – my taglists really need reorganizing!)

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña x fem!reader #fic: everlasting

280 notes · View notes

moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1 - Vertigo

Moonlight: a Crosshair x FOC love story

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | AO3 Link

Summary: Clair meets a group of peculiar clones before a terrible event turns her life around.

Chapter rating: M

Tags/warnings: attack/explosion, mild language, mild references to sexual activity, some angst. If there's something I forgot to tag, please let me know!

A/N: This story is completed on my AO3. If you want to binge it, it's fully posted there! I'm merely cross-posting the chapters here on tumblr for the sake of interaction and because I freaking love this story so much. This right here is my magnum opus, it is my favorite story and it's been finished for a while now but I'm still very proud of it. I hope you'll give it a chance and love it as much as I do!

I listened to seeking peace by Towerz on repeat while writing this chapter.

Clair lightly swayed from side to side to the aesthetic music as she adjusted the knot of her apron. The busiest part of noon had just gone by, and all the workers stopping by for lunch were already heading back to their jobs. Soon, couples of friends or lovers would arrive for some afternoon tea and pastries, which was always her favorite part of the day. Tea and bread… Clair had set up the Allium Cafeteria for that very reason.

Enjoying the momentary calm in the restaurant, Clair waltzed into the kitchen to oversee the inventory of pastries for the day. The specials were still in the oven, five trays of twenty. The board was already filled in with the specials menu, so it would still be a matter of minutes before prepping everything for the rest of the day. She was never one to stand idle; the very fact that the restaurant was hers was proof of that. Clair went on to arrange the recently washed and dried dishes, leaving them ready for future use. It was when she was just finishing up when her assistant and close friend Bree walked into the kitchen with confusion splattered across her face. Clair couldn’t help but laugh a bit and asked Bree what was up using only the movement of her eyebrows.

Bree was still visibly concerned. “I think there are clone troopers outside.”

Clair flinched in surprise too. “What do you mean ‘think’?”

“See, that’s the thing… I’m not sure if they’re clones.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s not like they come here often. But they had the same face, right?”

“I think…”

At her friend’s reluctance, Clair walked over to the door and pressed herself onto it, standing on her toes to get a view of the restaurant. She’d been right, clones didn’t often go to that part of Naboo, let alone her restaurant. She could only pinpoint two times in which a clone had stumbled upon the Allium Cafeteria during his time off, but it would be on strange occasions for the clones themselves. Regardless, Clair knew very well what clones looked like, sounded like, even how they behaved, which is why the four men who were entering the restaurant left her baffled. Yes, their faces were similar and they were armored, but at first glance they were individuals rather than different versions of each other. Out of curiosity, perhaps too much curiosity, she lingered behind the kitchen door observing them.

Tech was the first one inside and he was pleased by the look of the place. “This will do nicely. It’s clean, not too busy, and from the looks of the specials board, the food isn’t overpriced.”

“Do we have to?” The sharpshooter protested.

“I’m starving!” Wrecker bellowed as he shoved his way through Tech and Crosshair. “Let’s get some food!”

Wrecker took his place in one of the tables near the middle of the cafeteria. The table was sized for the normal individuals on Naboo, and already it seemed way too small for him, but he didn’t mind. It would hold his food when it came and he was more than ready for it. His three brothers followed calmly after him, with Crosshair at the back like he usually was. Hunter could tell something was up with the sniper; he was frowning just a bit more than usual.

Reluctantly, the squad sat around a joyful Wrecker, who’d gotten his hands on a menu and was gawking at every possible dish he could order. Tech eyed the menu as well while Crosshair simply observed the cafeteria, still visibly angrier than usual. He rolled his eyes at every suggestion Wrecker made, even when they were deliberately to make Crosshair do anything besides frown. Crosshair simply shook it off and looked aside.

“We might as well just leave and go back to Kamino,” he said. “It’s not like the regs are going to need us.”

Hunter sighed. He should have known he’d still be angry about that. He looked at his brother, trying to make him understand. “Cody asked us to stay here in case things act up again. We’ll leave when he gives us an all clear signal.”

“Hunter, if he was going to get the regs to do the mission, he should have told us not to come,” Crosshair scoffed, popping a toothpick in his mouth with a grimace. “Choosing regs over us.”

“It’s still Cody,” Hunter tried convincing him. “He’s never done us any wrong.”

“And are you forgetting the comms got lost through interference?” Tech addressed Crosshair. “It wasn’t out of spite. Cody simply contacted two squadrons because it was an emergency. These things happen all the time.”

Crosshair simply rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What sort of emergency could there be around here anyway? This is probably the most boring town in Naboo.”

As he was saying that Hunter heard light steps approaching them. He turned around to see the young woman who was approaching them, followed by the rest of his teammates. From the look on her face, they all assumed she’d heard that last part about her hometown and, from the corner of his eye, Wrecker shot Crosshair a short glare for making the pretty girl feel bad.

But instead, she chuckled and walked up to their table. “Yeah, not many things happen around here. It’s got its perks, though.”

They all observed her. She was clearly an adult, but she wasn’t very tall; she measured five feet at the most. She had long black hair that swayed between straight and wavy, big and deep brown eyes that almost seemed black under fine eyebrows, and small yet full lips. She was curvy with wide hips and thick thighs, dressed in a pastel-colored dress with flower patterns that was topped by a light blue apron tied in a neat bow behind her. Her gaze at them was friendly as she took out a note pad. “My name’s Clair, I’ll be your waitress for now. Is there anything I can get you boys?”

Wrecker decided he liked her already and struck up a conversation with her, asking her to recommend dishes to him as well as if there was any possibility she could bring him one of each on the menu and put it on the Republic’s tab.

Her laughter was musical in the way it filled the cafeteria. “I can bring you one of each, but you might have to pay for it yourself.”

“Oh, well—”

“Wrecker, don’t,” Hunter said bluntly.

While Wrecker struggled to pick just one thing from the menu, Hunter’s gaze drifted over to Crosshair. His frown from earlier had disappeared and he was looking at Clair with a smirk, his eyes scanning her body up and down from time to time. Hunter could have rolled his eyes, but he’d rather be discreet in those cases. He knew his youngest brother very well. He was still smug and proud and went to lengths to show that. At leisure times like those, he’d have no trouble flirting with girls for a bit of fun. Seeing that he could make a woman fluster and grin at him reminded him how much on top the regs he truly was, and he occasionally took it as far as a one-night stand, but that would be it. Crosshair’s limits were always clear in that aspect.

“You don’t have the attire of a waitress,” Tech said to Clair after she’d finished writing down his order.

“Uhm…” She responded shyly. “I’m not exactly a waitress. I’m kind of the owner of the cafeteria.” Clair held in her laughter at the way the faces of the four clones before her lit up.

“That’s quite impressive,” Tech told her happily. “And worthy of bragging. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” she grinned back at him before looking over at Hunter and Crosshair. “What will you two be having?”

“Just caf for me,” Hunter said.

“Mhmm,” Clair took note, “and what about you?” She looked over at Crosshair but froze in a gesture that was imperceptible to everyone but Hunter. Crosshair was smirking at her and staring into her eyes. Clair had rarely been looked at like that before, but more than being taken aback, the clone sparked curiosity in her.

“I’m sure you can surprise me,” he told her.

Clair laughed softly before averting her gaze from Crosshair’s piercing gaze. “I’ll sure try. Is there anything else you’d like?”

“That’s it for now,” Tech told her nicely.

“Alright, I’ll be back shortly,” she smiled and walked back into the kitchen. Their gazes followed after her, but once she disappeared behind the kitchen doors, the three clones gave Crosshair the stink eye.

“What?” He rolled his eyes at them.

“Dude,” Wrecker slurred. “She’s a nice girl. Don’t do it.”

“What, you want her to be your friend? Maybe make some friendship bracelets?” Crosshair snarled. “I’m not planning to do anything. You know me.”

“It’s because we know you we’re telling you this,” Tech said.

“I’ve never done anything wrong,” Crosshair said nonchalantly. “All the women I flirt or go to bed with know I’m not in it for the long run, and they’re fine with it. If they’re not, I couldn’t care less.”

“That’s going to come back and bite you in the ass one day,” Hunter chuckled, to which Crosshair simply flipped his middle finger in response.

Back in the kitchen, as Clair set the most recent order, Bree approached her hungry for the gossip. “Did you find out anything about them?”

“Not much,” Clair said. “But they’re clones alright. They’re just… strange. They don’t look like clones. But they’re nice guys.”

“What are they even doing here?” Bree looked out the small window on the door.

“I don’t know either. They were probably sent here for something urgent that fell through, at least that’s what I could tell from what I overheard.”

“Yeah,” Bree responded absently. “Hey, the one with the round goggles is kinda cute, isn’t he? What’s his name?”

Clair stopped in her tracks. “I have no clue.”

Bree scoffed. “Honestly, Clair? You need to be nosier.”

“Oh, well, perhaps you should go out there and ask him out. Maybe he’ll desert the army and go off to live with you.”

Bree and Clair stuck their tongues out at each other before returning to their own business. The rest of the day was fairly calm at the Allium Cafeteria. Clair handed the clones their order, which they really seemed to enjoy, but they couldn’t stay for long after that when they received a comm requesting their presence elsewhere. They’d barely introduced themselves properly to Clair at that point, but duty called.

“If we’re ever around here again, we’ll come by,” Hunter said before walking out the front door after his squad.

“You’re welcome any time,” Clair replied. “Stay safe out there.”

“Always do,” he said confidently, and with that, the four peculiar clones exited the Allium Cafeteria.

Clair went about the evening as she always did, but with a lingering feeling of happiness from having met such great people. Still, she knew pretty much that the odds of her seeing them again were really small. It was a big galaxy at war, and they’d be needed in many places before they’d be needed in her small, peaceful hometown. If they ever had time off, she didn’t think they’d travel all the way across the galaxy to Naboo. It just didn’t make any sense. At the very least she got the chance to meet them. They seemed like really nice friends.

“I’m closing up,” Bree called from in the kitchen as Clair finished storing a few things in the back at the very end of the day when they were the last two in the restaurant.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Would you mind just leaving the back door open for me to leave? I’ll be out shortly.”

“Sure,” Bree said before making her way outside.

Clair calmly arranged the few items left and was just beginning to exit the storage when a loud and sudden noise overwhelmed her followed by the intensely bright gleam of fire. Although her thoughts ran fast, Clair had no time to make out what had just happened as her body felt weaker and her vision blacked out.

“All units nearby, head into the town! Reinforcements have already been called!”

The news had arrived to them quickly. Tech and Wrecker took the pilot seats of the Havoc Marauder with Hunter and Crosshair standing right behind them. They were already on their way out of the planet after Cody had given them the all-clear, but they’d turned around as soon as they’d heard, all of them wordless, with only one face in their minds. They all had the same terrible feeling, and they knew that couldn’t be a good thing.

They landed just outside the town and ran over to the location the comm channel was directing them to, and their four hearts sank upon seeing the location. Their bad feeling had been right. Clair’s cafeteria had been affected by the explosion.

A large group of civilians was huddled before the scene. Out of nowhere, a series of explosions took over that block, taking down the cafeteria along with a couple more buildings. Tech was looking into his holopad to pinpoint any details of the attack while Hunter and Crosshair approached Commander Cody’s squadron who was trying to keep the civilians calm.

“Cody!” Hunter called. “What’s going on here? Is everyone out?”

“Where’s the owner?” Wrecker questioned.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell them!” A voice came out from the crowd of civilians. The people in front of the speaker scattered so that the clones could see her directly, and she looked about as worried as anyone could be. “She always leaves the restaurant at about this hour with her assistant. Neither of them is here!”

Hunter crouched down and grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground looking for Clair, and he confirmed what the civilian feared. Clair was still inside the building.

“Tech, keep investigating. Crosshair, lookout. Target any hostiles. Wrecker, you’re in with me.”

Neither hesitating nor waiting for approval from Cody (he agreed they had to get everyone out of danger, so he wouldn’t protest anyway), Wrecker ran up to the cafeteria’s door and kicked it down swiftly. The building was still on fire and the smoke was beginning to build up. Hunter tracked Clair to the storage at the back and they both went for her.

“Bree?” She weakly called out. “Bree…!”

“Find her,” Hunter told Wrecker, who instantly obeyed as Hunter picked Clair up and began to take her outside.

“I found her!” Wrecker called from the back. “I’m on my way out!”

Hunter exited the burning restaurant followed by Wrecker and they set the two girls on the two paramedic beds that have already been set up. Hunter tracked the inside of the buildings for anyone else that may need their help, but it seemed there was nobody left inside. Nobody alive, at least.

Around the block, dozens of people gathered, most of them in their night wear, who were just about to have a calm night. Hunter’s bones chilled. This wasn’t a military operation at the hands of the Separatists. This was something worse, far mor cold-blooded, and he dared say, far more dangerous.

The sound of coughing caught his attention back to Clair, who was just waking up surrounded by paramedics. Crosshair arrived from his lookout spot and the four clones removed their helmets to inspect her and see if she was fine. Clair was only just recovering consciousness, and the reg medic told them it would be a while before she could talk.

The hours went by; the few clones who were there at the time successfully organized the displaced people. Some would be taken into Theed, others would find lodging with nearby family members. Clone intelligence was already investigating the incident, for which Tech listened in carefully. He approached his three brothers solemnly and spoke in a low voice.

“It appears several attacks like these have been reported in different planets in this area,” Tech told them. “They’ve all been in seemingly random locations, all of them secluded from military areas. Clone occupation in said areas is irrelevant. I’m afraid it’s a wrong place at the wrong time situation.”

“Who’s responsible?” Hunter asked him.

“Unknown,” said Tech. “Clone intelligence is working hard, but with the explosions it’s hard to trace. My guess is whoever it was planted the bombs beforehand. If they targeted calm towns like this one, it would have been very easy to get away with.”

“How’s Clair?” Wrecker asked.

They fanned out to get a look at Clair, who was sitting on the paramedic, now fully conscious after hours of recovery. She was huddled under a blanket and nodding solemnly at something the reg medic was telling her before he walked away. It broke the heart of each of the four clones to see her so beaten down when just that afternoon she’d been so light-hearted and cheerful.

They approached Clair and saw her eyes widen in sadness when she saw them. “I didn’t even know you guys were here…”

Hunter smiled kindly at her. “Don’t worry about that. How are you feeling?”

She sighed. She felt terrible and she looked on the verge of tears. “The cafeteria’s a total loss as well as the building behind it. My apartment was there.”

An awful moment of silence hovered over all of them as that sank in.

“I have nothing left…” Clair finished, more to herself than to anyone else.

Also covered by a blanket, Clair’s assistant Bree rested a hand delicately on her shoulder.

“I’m going with my parents off-world. They’re the only ones I’ve got,” she said sadly. “What will you do?”

Clair sighed and kept her gaze low. “I don’t know.”

“Come with us,” Tech blurted.

Clair, Bree, and his three brothers snapped their gazes onto him at the sudden suggestion. Still, it sank into the clones that it wasn’t that bad of an idea. They could help her in the meantime, maybe take Clair to Coruscant where she’d be able to find a new path.

“I’ll only be interfering with you,” Clair said.

“It really won’t be a problem,” Hunter spoke softly. “We’ll look after you until you can get back on your feet. Do you have family elsewhere?”

“It’s just me,” she said sadly. “But really, I don’t want to cause you any trouble. You’re soldiers… you’ll have missions and stuff to do, and I have nothing that will be of use to you.”

“We don’t really mind that,” Tech persuaded. “We want you to be okay.”

Clair smiled lightly at their kindness and she allowed herself to think of the idea, but there were way too many things in her head to begin with. Her cafeteria, her life’s work, even her house had been burned down and declared a loss. It wasn’t as easy as she may have wanted to get back on her feet, and she was scared. Not only was she scared of being alone and empty-handed, she was scared of whoever planted those bombs in the buildings. She felt unsafe, vulnerable. Seeing it from that point of view, leaving with four kind-hearted clones didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“You need to rest,” Hunter told her. “Once you’ve slept, things will be clearer.”

She looked up at him. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take me.”

The four clones smiled softly at her. It was settled, and the next wave of refugees was just about to set out, Bree being a part of it. Clair said a warm goodbye to Bree; they wished each other luck, and once her close friend was gone, Clair was taken by the four friendly clones back to their ship.

#moonstrider writes #moonlight series #tbb crosshair #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb crosshair fanfiction

25 notes · View notes

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Namjoon Werewolf Au !

Alpha werewolf!

Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.

-------------------------------

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.

Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.

The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.

The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.

Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.

He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.

A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.

It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.

Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .

How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?

It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .

Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.

Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.

And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....

He should have left her behind with them.

" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"

Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.

His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.

Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.

But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.

He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?

Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.

" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.

"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.

Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.

She had fainted .

---------------------------------

" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.

Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.

" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.

Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.

He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her

an apologetic smile.

The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.

As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.

She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.

And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.

He has no interest in either.

-------------------------

The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?

They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.

Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.

" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.

"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.

So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.

He wondered if it was because of his face.

Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?

It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.

But she hadn't.

She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.

So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?

It irked him no end.

As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.

Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.

" She is with child."

Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.

Fuck.

---------------------------------------------

Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

#werewolf namjoon drabbles

158 notes · View notes

galateagalvanized · 3 years

Note

17, 22, or 44 for codywan if any of them vibe with you!

#44. Sitting on the other’s lap

Every elegant line of Obi-Wan is on full display through the light blue gauze—every curve of muscle, every edge of bone—and every piece of him that’s touching Cody feels like a brand. There isn’t even a place where their skin overlaps since Cody is himself completely covered, but. It’s at least three fewer layers than usual, considering the depths of Obi-Wan’s robes, and four if you count the width of Cody’s armor.

Around them, Zygerrians and their similarly anointed slaves are wandering throughout the low-lit room, moving from couch to couch to pile of pillows to chat amidst the resonating sounds of a harp and, beneath that, the soft moans of people already getting started.

A few of them keep glancing towards Cody and Obi-Wan. It feels like it’s just idle curiosity, now, but it feeds coal into the furnace of Cody’s hatred for this place. It makes him want to tumble Obi-Wan out of his lap and onto the couch below, to cover him in exactly the way his flimsy costume doesn’t. Cody doesn’t want anyone else to be able to map the plains of Obi-Wan, to measure the hills and valleys of his body, or to ogle the scars that were all hard-won.

Obi-Wan shifts in Cody’s lap to put his lips by Cody’s ear, and Cody’s about to have a different problem altogether.

“You’re trembling,” Obi-Wan whispers.

So he is. The mission comes first, Cody reminds himself, and he marshals himself as he would anyone under his command, tucking all his sharp edges back behind a placid, easy smile. It won’t fail because of me, he thinks.

He startles when he feels Obi-Wan slide a hand up his neck into the crook of his jaw, and Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkle when he looks down on them.

“Come now, my dear, surely this is the least of what you’ve suffered for the Republic,” Obi-Wan says, teasing.

Cody swallows. “It’s not about me. They’re—they’re all looking at you.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze softens, then, warm and familiar, and Cody’s heart beats a marching tune in his chest. The weight of Obi-Wan’s gaze and the weight of his body in Cody’s lap are building a different kind of fire in Cody’s gut, a shifting, burning thing that starts creeping up his spine.

“Then let’s give them something to look at,” Obi-Wan says, and he leans in for a kiss.

There is nothing, nothing, like kissing Obi-Wan. It’s obliterating, it’s all-consuming, it’s wet heat and the long press of a strong body against him. The whole Zygerrian pleasure palace falls away until all Cody can feel are Obi-Wan’s nail scratching through the short curls at the base of Cody’s neck, the lick of Obi-Wan’s tongue into Cody’s mouth, the drag of Obi-Wan’s teeth on Cody’s lower lip. Cody wants to be kissing Obi-Wan always, to be here beneath him, fitting their limbs and their mouths together like puzzle pieces, like deadlocks on a bank safe, to press into each other and never come apart.

Obi-Wan shifts his long legs to bracket Cody’s hips with his knees, and then Cody has to press up against Obi-Wan’s body to chase his mouth, lost in the warmth and rhythm and his glowing, molten love for Obi-Wan.

So Cody had no idea they’d been approached until Obi-Wan draws away, lips red and bruised and smug. In fact, he’d already started leaning back in by the time someone clears their throat. Cody tightens his grip on Obi-Wan’s waist, instinctually pulling him close, before looking up.

Queen Miraj Scintel raises an eyebrow at him. She’s running her nails up and down her scepter, and Cody can only imagine what she wishes she were doing instead.

“What a talented slave you have,” she says, courteous and elegant in her lilting accent. The guards flanking her are an impenetrable wall of armor and emotionless focus, and Cody couldn’t fight them all, but he’d like to. Still, Obi-Wan got them this far; it’s Cody’s turn.

“Yes, well,” Cody says, splaying his hand wide across Obi-Wan’s bare back as Obi-Wan respectfully lowers his eyes. “He’s always been very good at his job.”

I’m no longer taking these prompts, but I am still working through the ones I’ve already received. Thank you to everyone who submitted one!

#codywan #prompt fills #am writing #cw: slavery #cw: Zygerria #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #Idk who did this but there’s are #a couple artists who’ve drawn Obi-Wan in Zygerrian clothes and like #thank You yes #let’s dress up the 35 year old and not the 15 year old hahaha #ask Chel

280 notes · View notes

volot · 2 years

Text

mini-headcanon: in regards to ingo.

scrolling through volo’s tag, and i feel the need to bring up the elephant of the room which... happens to be ingo. i’ve seen a lot of takes on how volo and ingo’s thing came about, and i figured i may as well throw my $00.2 into the pot.

to start: i’m almost completely positive that if ingo didn’t get dropped off into hisui before volo’s nonsense, then it was absolutely unintentional on volo’s part. i don’t think volo had enough control of the rifts to really have a strong enough hand just to reel someone out of spacetime. and definitely not a train conductor who is of notable battle prowess from not-new york. how would that benefit him? what does he gain from it?

do i think arceus may have thrown ingo in? i think it’s definitely possible, in the vein of preparing the hero and setting things into motion, or triggering an event in the past that is meant to happen. ingo is a necessary staple to the pearl clan as one of its wardens and his connection to lady sneasler, as well as being someone capable of giving modern day pokemon battles to hisui, who can potentially strengthen the eventual chosen hero that will come forth.

but volo? no, it wasn’t his intention. ingo was an accident. collateral in the grand scheme of trying to draw out arceus. as much as i do think volo is methodical and manipulative, this was a situation out of his hands.

did volo not care about ingo? i also don’t think that’s fully true; i think in the same way he was curious about the protagonist at first ( before they kicked his ass in the middle of jubilife and permanently cemented themselves as a thorn in his side ), he was curious about ingo. fascinated by him, head full of questions, needing to know. he came from the rifts after all, spat out from space-time and from a world, a realm beyond this one: naturally, volo would be led to believe that ingo must remember something of what he saw. additionally, his battling prowess would be a point of curiosity and interest as well; a means for volo to strengthen his abilities as the greatest pokemon wielder, if he felt the need to prime his strength and train himself further. ingo has knowledge from a world, a time of battling, beyond volo’s - it’s a good reference point to work from, another divine tool to use, even if i believe he was already doing battling when outside of hisui, as it’s stated that other regions do in fact battle.

but eventually, volo’s attention drifted away from ingo when ingo didn’t have the answers volo so badly wanted. he still keeps tabs on him of course, just in case, like he always does this with things that pique his interest; when he hears the protagonist is off to mount coronet, he knows it’s likely ingo will be there. so he follows them, and uses the conversation present to try and dig around for answers from either party, because he is a salesman who is opportunistic - if the conversation could job either the protagonist’s memory or ingo’s, then he may just get the answer he’s looking for. one of them has to remember, and what better way to rouse two amnesiacs than putting them together? he asks ingo? no dice. he asks protag? no dice.

it’s there he talks about the rifts and sows some seeds framed as his ‘idle curiosity’ and appearing like a mystified party while absolving himself of blame for the rifts, and also putting emphasis on arceus and how he believes its realm is on the other end, putting arceus to potential reason.

there’s a quote here that people talk about a lot in relation to ingo, and i feel it’s worth pointing out.

"Indeed... Well, I do hope your memories return, Warden Ingo. How about you, then, <player>? Do you remember what you saw before you fell out of that rift? Was there anything inside?"

that first line is sneaky. it comes off as good-intentioned ( and sure enough, maybe some part of him does mean it. i think he does, and he certainly doesn’t believe it was his fault; arceus could have put him back if it really wanted to. it’s a pitiable situation, isn’t it? pitiful, to see a man dropped into this world and ripped away from his family and left with no memory. why would arceus do that? ), it’s also double-intentioned. there’s a reason he hopes ingo’s memories return, unknown to us the player at that moment, and to ingo: he hopes they’ll return so volo can know if ingo remembers anything from the rift, if he recalls anything at all. he pities, again, but it’s a little self-serving, too. is it fucked up of him to say with that context? absolutely.

all in all: like all volo’s relationships, it’s complicated. ingo’s definitely a point of interest, even if he’s only keeping an eye on him from afar by this point, as well as a point of pity.

#hc.#study.#ooc.#been meaning to write this one for awhile.. 8') hopefully it makes sense #q.

14 notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

Happenstance | Kamo Noritoshi

CHARACTERS: Kamo Noritoshi X You CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WORD COUNT: 2,287 GENRE: fluff | school au | archer!noritoshi | described reader appearance (i think) TRIGGER WARNING: very mild implied sleeping princess syndrome (somnophilia?) SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

📸 photo credits to @/kawaiimallows22 on Pinterest

Sports fest – an idle time for most but to the athletes of the school.

Kamo Noritoshi was one of them, an archer for the school team and currently representing class two-six. It was a jovial time for most as there weren’t any homeroom activities, but to him, it was yet another one of those boring days in school. It wasn’t new to him nor was it a rare chance for him to get to play unlike the other students as almost every month, he’d join inter-school competitions, most of which were a piece of cake to him. He’d been slinging a bow and arrow since he was five after all. They were the best team there ever was to grace the school grounds and unless they graduate from the institution, there was no way they’d be beaten. It was routine, thus the boredom.

He glanced at his watch. It read exactly half past two. The game he was supposed to be in was already starting, but instead of being in the archery range to shoot some arrows, he was wandering inside the school building, particularly that of the freshmen’s area. It was way quieter there than the other places in the area since all of the students on that floor were excited for the games unlike the upper-class students who found the events of the day tedious. He couldn’t agree more with them. He couldn’t understand why there were such frivolous events apart from the necessary ones. They were of no importance to him and since his class had gotten into the finals, he wasn’t needed anymore.

He treaded his way through the quiet hallways, his footsteps echoing. The surroundings were quite eerie especially that the green glow from the sunlight which was being filtered by the ostentatious greenhouse cast itself across the pristine white walls. He walked the length of the plant conservatory where a few meters of turf had been laid out as a part of the semi-indoor landscape when a strange figure caught his eyes. His stroll halted as he turned on his heels to see what it was, pressing closer to the glass wall with his curiosity overriding him. He squinted, adjusting his vision to the brighter light.

On the grass, he could make out the shape of a person, lying down as if unconsciousness caught them in the middle of a promenade. He arched a brow when he noticed a glistening tuft of long hair on the grass. It was female student – you specifically. Alarmed, he ran back to where the entrance to the greenhouse was and frantically searched for you, thinking you were injured or ailing. He found you on the same spot. Hoping that you were fine, he knelt down beside you. You were lying on your side, your back to him, vulnerable to every single danger that the school grounds could expose you to.

“What are you doing here?” Noritoshi whispered to himself. Ever so carefully, he tried to turn you over so he could at least recognize you. He noticed your hand which held a crimson cravat. A senior, he thought. What was a senior doing at the freshmen’s area? He smirked. Then again, he was a junior and he was there.

Even after you turned over so you were lying on your back, your luxuriant tresses covered your face like a veil. Sucking in air, he reached over, but before he could even touch you, you began stirring. Your hands reached over to your face and brushed your hair absently from your face. A soft sigh escaped your mouth, the creases on your forehead caused by the disturbance slowly smoothing into a peaceful mask as your breathing steadied, your chest rising and falling at an even pace.

Noritoshi scrambled back, frowning when he realized that you hadn’t fainted. You were deliberately there, sleeping. He smiled in amusement, about to leave when a soft breeze managed to make its way through the open vents of the glass dome, rustling the vegetation along with the your dark hair. Suddenly, he found himself taken by the sight of you slumbering before his feet. Your lean, long legs were slightly bent to the right, barely concealed by the short skirt that was your uniform which clung to your hips deliberately, tracing your delicate contours.

His eyes trailed upwards to your face, cheeks lightly flushed and glowing with a healthy tinge of faded roses, lashes thick enough to cast shadows on your cheeks and lips that were the shade of cherries, slightly fuller on the lower part, all framed by sable hair that had lush curls near the tips, scattered on the grassy ground in reckless abandon. You were beautiful…like a garden nymph.

He was enthralled, no other words. He found himself unable to move, wondering where he had seen such a face. He doubted it that you’ve encountered each other since he never really went to the senior department. Aside from that, he never bothered to look at the people in the school long enough in all his two years stay in the institution unless he had something to do with them. He blinked slowly. For the first time, he found himself breathless for someone and he wasn’t expecting that he’d see it in an unconscious girl in the greenhouse.

Thump. Thump.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart racing the more he stared at the nameless goddess in front of him. With his body finding a mind of its own, he found himself leaning over you until your faces were but a measly inch away from each other. Slowly, his eyes began to droop until they closed, making his lips touch with your slightly open ones. He’d never had the urge to kiss someone so badly and now that he had the chance, you weren’t even responding. He relished the feel of your mouth against his, yielding and soft like candy floss to the slightest of pressures.

What are you doing attacking an unconscious person? Isn’t that cowardly, a nagging voice in his head said, making him snap out of it. He inched away from your sleeping figure and swallowed hard, shaking his head, eyes wide when he realized what he just did. It was so uncommon for him to be losing his mind over anyone. I didn’t just do that.

He glanced at the you, trying to clear his head. He sat down on the grass just beside you, looking up. Frustration took over him, chastising himself for the recklessness of his actions. He thought of how it would look like if the you actually woke up and caught him red-handed. He shrugged the thought off, just glad that you didn’t.

Minutes turned to hours and he still stayed there. The urge to protect you was strong and yet he wasn’t really protecting you, was he? What if it was your first kiss? How he dreaded the thought that he stole it and he didn’t even know whether you liked it or not. He felt loathing for himself when he realized that he was as good as an offender, harassing the you while you slept.

His eyes made its way towards the your tranquil form again and to his surprise, your eyes were open, hazel ones that reflected the canopy of leaves above you. You looked rather disoriented, but even as your vision wandered to him, clear and bright under the afternoon sun, enhancing your features, you exhibited no surprise.

His guilt took the best of him and made him inch away from you, watching as you stretched your arms and blinked sleepily. You pushed yourself up and regarded him with a sleepy smile.

Finally, the goddess spoke. “To what do I owe the honor?” you asked.

Puzzled, Noritoshi shook his head slowly. “Excuse me?”

You sighed, but was happy to repeat yourself. “I said –”

Noritoshi was torn between laughter and frowning. “I heard what you said, but…”

You giggled a bit, narrowing your eyes at him before covering your mouth to yawn. “Now I know why girls fawn over you.”

His brows shot up. “Excuse me?” he said, this time with more edge to it.

Your eyes widened a bit and you fidgeted with your cravat, your shoulders tensing. You winced, returning his gaze with your left eye closed and your right eye slightly squinting. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

Noritoshi shook his head. “No… You don’t get it…”

You relaxed. “What don’t I get?” You lightly scratched the back of your head. “Sorry. I just woke up…er…which you already knew.” You shook your head and rubbed at your eyes.

His head tilted to the side. “You know me.”

At that, you burst into bubbles of laughter. “School team archer, Kamo Noritoshi, who outshines the captain? Who wouldn’t?”

His heart fluttered. The fact that you knew him made him feel glad and guilty at the same time. You knew him and with beauty like yours, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he never noticed you before. He shrugged, your words finally sinking in and he momentarily forgot about what he did. “Not really…”

“And yet I hear rumors about you having to hide in the men’s lavatory because a mob is chasing after you. You’ve got to be kidding me.” You straightened up. “Come on. No need to be humble.” You were easy-going and cheerful, that much he’d figured out. And you also liked to talk. You apologized for your comments and asked, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

He flashed you a half smile. “I didn’t want to.” He shrugged then. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for your class?”

You blew a raspberry. “I’d rather sleep.”

“Figures.”

You stood up. “I’m going home. Nice talking to you.” You began to make your way out of the greenhouse, waving with your cravat. “See you around.”

Noritoshi stood up and before he could even realize what he was doing, he seized you by the wrist, stopping your progress. You turned around and eyed his hand on yours which he quickly withdrew. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly.

You smiled. “It’s fine. Do you need anything?”

“Your name…” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

He looked up. “Your name. I…uh…I didn't catch it.”

Your eyes twinkled as you chuckled. “I didn’t mention it.”

Noritoshi’s face heated up and he didn’t need a mirror to tell how badly he was blushing. He looked down.

You bent down slightly. “Are you alright? You’re red,” you said, a confirmation of his thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes. I-it’s hot…that’s all.”

You giggled. “It’s Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“My name is L/N Y/N.”

Y/N. Pretty. He nodded. “L/N Y/N. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s just Y/N,” you half-whined and pouted a bit. “Do you want me to call you *kohai?”

He shook his head, feeling the slightest annoyance when you suggested it. “N-no.”

“Then call me Y/N and I’ll call you…”

“Idiot?” he said absently, shook his head upon realization and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m kidding.”

“Noritoshi?” you offered, the way his name rolled out of your tongue making him want to hear it more.

“Okay.”

“Noritoshi it is. Bye, Noritoshi.”

You started to walk away again, but he realized it was his chance to make it up to you although you didn’t know what has happened. “Y/N.”

You turned on your heels and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Mind if I walk you home?” he blurted out.

You took his hand. “Not at all, but we should get going before your fan girls start chasing after me.”

Noritoshi chuckled and led the way. You both exited the gate and you just directed him to where you were going, your shoulders touching from time to time as you walked. You didn’t live far from the school just a few blocks and soon, the of you were standing in front of a dainty-looking house with two floors surrounded with lawn and fences the color of faded limes.

“This is me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you want to walk me to my door?” you asked, voicing Noritoshi’s thoughts out.

“S-sure.”

You chuckled. “Are you always this articulate?”

He chuckled along with you, suppressing the urge to smile like an idiot until you’ve reached the door.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“You’re welcome and…”

You clasped your hands behind you and tilted sideways, your hair falling over your shoulder like it had a life of its own. “And?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

You frowned slightly. “Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

Noritoshi placed a hand behind his neck. “I’m going.”

“Okay, but before that, I’m sorry, too.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“I’m sorry for this.” Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck, stood on your toes and let your lips meet in a bold kiss.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened, but he’d soon grown accustomed to your lips which he already kissed while you were sleeping. Chills ran up and down his spine, as the urgency in your kiss heightened from just a simple contact to a kind of potent wanting. His arm found its way around your waist, holding you closer, not caring if anyone saw you as long as he was happy where he was at the moment.

He was still dazed by the time you pulled back, but contrary to his expectation for you to move further away, you leaned closer to his ear and said, “Naughty Noritoshi stealing a kiss from sleeping Y/N.”

He froze. You knew.

Finally you stood back from him, gave him one last peck on the cheek and winked at him as you opened the front door. “See you at the greenhouse, kiss thief.”

-END-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*kohai (後輩) junior i.e. a person of lower grade/class/age (in school/at work) to the speaker

@fushigummy You asked, I delivered. XD did I do the man justice?

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

183 notes · View notes