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shegatsby · 1 month

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Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Hi babies! I hope you're doing amazing! I love writing this story i feel alive after months of depression lol. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)

Warnings; None.. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.291K

Chapter 4

Chapter Three – ''Caught in the Web''

The throne room was spinning under her feet, she felt the sudden rush of hot air on her body. No one dared to speak, one could hear the birds outside singing in harmony. Y/N’s alerted eyes found Pyramus, he seemed in shock and quietly left the throne room. Y/N looked at her parents pleadingly, Leto’s brown eyes were fixed on the Emperor, Jessica had a victorious smile and it dawned on her.

This was planned.

‘’Rise young warrior.’’ Shaddam’s voice was heard. ‘’Do parents of Lady Y/N object to this offer?’’

Entire room held its breath. ‘’No, Emperor.’’ Leto answered on the behalf of his house, it broke Y/N’s heart into million pieces. ‘’Not here.’’ she whispered to herself, she couldn’t burst into tears in front of important people and show weakness.

‘’So it is done. Paul Atreides shall take my daughter as wife and you, young warrior Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen shall take Lady Y/N Atreides as your wife.’’ And the crowd went into hypnotic frenzy.

The following hours went blurry, Y/N was taken to chamber to another…

At last, she was in her family’s quarters, she waited for servants to leave them alone. The door closed and a thick silence fell like a dark cloud, hovering over the House Atreides.

‘’How could you?!’’ she yelled, stood up to her feet, her skirts swirling, her face showed nothing but anger, she was a lioness. ‘’How could I refuse the Emperor?!’’ Leto yelled back, he felt powerless like the exact time when Emperor Shaddam demanded his beloved baby daughter to accompany Princes Irulan. Again, someone else was going to take her from him. ‘’Wake up father! This isn’t the Emperor. This is Bene Gesserit’s doing. It has been all along.’’

Leto turned to face Jessica who averted her gaze, she looked guilty of a crime she didn’t commit yet she had her fingers in it. ‘’You?!’’ He didn’t want to believe but she was right. Jessica’s blue eyes couldn’t face her beloved. Paul knew that his parents needed to talk in private so he gently held his older sister’s arm. ‘’let’s go to the gardens.’’ He knew that would calm her.

Y/N stormed odd to the halls of the palace and with Paul they walked to the lush gardens. Gardens of House Corriono were always well maintained and aesthetically pleasing with colors and scent. She had to take deep breaths and pray in silence;

‘’I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.’’

Paul was standing there hands in his pockets, counting his blessings.

‘’Y/N’’ he called softly, ‘’What?!’’ she was about to take her anger out on him, ‘’Do not give me that look Paul. You and Irulan and that.. that Bal headed beast are the ones who profit from this arrangement but me!’’ she tried to keep her voice low, servants and spies could be anywhere. ‘’You can manipulate him, Y/N, remember our training.’’ Paul was making sense but Y/N was too furious to hear .

‘’Y/N…’’ a soft voice called out, they turned to face the owner, ‘’Pyramus..’’ she breathed out, a brief silence fell, his dark brown eyes found hers, ‘’I shall take my leave.’’ Paul announced and left them be.

Two lovers embraced, she started to cry in agony, ‘’What are we going to do now?!’’ her voice desperate, rebelling against her fate. ‘’I have an idea.’’ He said holding her face, ‘’Tonight, after Irulan and Paul’s wedding we run away together.’’ She was shocked to hear him being bold. ‘’We can hijack an ornithopter and hide till we find a ship to fly to my home, you can use the Voice on people.’’ It would be the most outrageous scandal that the Imperium had ever seen, but it was now or never.

All day she got ready for Irulan’s wedding, she wore a long black dress an black lace gloves that were see-through, her long hair let loose. A big obsidian stoned necklace on her delicate throat, the stone shined every time lights hit from the glowglobes. After tonight she was suppose to be shipped to the hellhole called Giedi Prime. House Harkonnen.

The feast was bountiful, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, no one cared about Y/N and her situation. Among the crowd she found her family’s place and started to move past dancing couples to go to them but a firm trap caught her delicate wrist, it was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

‘’Where to, little dove?’’ he was in his regular black clothing, a silver ring on his little finger, a cunning look on his ocean eyes, ‘’To my family.’’ Y/N replied coldly, ‘’I am your family now.’’ He was so direct it caught her off guard. He didn’t wait for an answer and guided her to the dance floor, his tone was stern, was he hurt that Y/N didn’t go to him first? She deduced with her Bene Gesserit powers. ‘’I highly doubt that.’’ She clapped back in annoyance. He was trying really hard not to lose his temper. He couldn’t show his true self among other houses, he couldn’t humiliate his family so he simply had to wait and be patient and when the time comes… he could insert his ways on her. As if he wasn’t doing it now….

‘’You have a silver tongue. I like that but-‘’ he made her twirl, ‘’be careful.’’ Y/N looked up to meet his orbits, under the yellow lights, among dancing couples one could assume that Feyd and Y/N were a loving couple. It was so easy to lose oneself in his aura that she had to look away. Their bodies pressed to each other, she could smell his cologne, manly and just.. there

‘’You know what, I’m going to be nice to you tonight.’’ She said which caused him to rise his nonexistent eyebrow in questioning. ‘’How come?’’

‘’You might not find me again, so, it’s on the house.’’ And the music ended and she immediately let herself part from him and go to her family.

Rest of the night she avoided most of the people and observed. Paul and Irulan were shipped to Caladan and tomorrow morning all of the lord and ladies were to go back to their home planets. Perfect timing.

Y/N wore her black leather pants and top, she couldn’t afford running in her beautiful gowns if any trouble arrived. She prepared a small bag of essentials, and had been waiting for Pyramus to whistle from outside, her windows were all wide open.

When she heard him she activated her shoes which were made to float in the air and she softly landed on the fresh cut grass, they kissed passionately. She could feel her heart in her throat, this was the first time she was actively rebelling against her family and the rules. Pyramus had his outfit from the night’s entertainment. ‘’Why didn’t you change?’’

‘’Didn’t have time. Follow me.’’ If she was more observant she could have seen the cut on his eyebrow and small bruises on his face clearly.

Ornithopters were on the airfield, since it was really late most of the guards were sleeping on their duty.

Pyramus held her hand, his palm sweaty, ‘’Let’s go.’’ He made her move fast ‘’Wait-‘’ she whispered,

‘’Let’s not wake them up-‘’ he seemed like he didn’t care, they got to an ornithopter. He opened its door, it was for two people. Before she climbed inside she turned to face him for a second, he seemed terrified, ‘’Wait-‘’ her hands went to his face, ‘’What happened to your face?’’ Y/N asked in horror and saw his expression change into guilt.

‘’Pyramus?’’ she whispered, ‘’I’m sorry Y/N..’’

And all of the lights on the field were turned on like lightning on a rainy day, alarms were going off, soldiers wide awake… were they awake the whole time? They were surrounded by Harkonnen soldiers, a sound of applause echoed on the open field, soldiers moved to make way for him.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen approached, he stopped clapping when he saw them, he had his black and dark grey uniform. Y/N could see he was geared up.. just in case.

‘’Did you really think that you could escape me?’’ Feyd asked sarcastically, his voice amused, he looked like a theater actor who finished his bit and proud of himself. ‘’I’m sorry..’’ Pyramus whispered again and let her go, he, without a beat climbed into the ornithopter and flew away.

Y/N could feel the tears of betrayal coming in, Feyd-Rautha with a sudden move grabbed her wrist, she felt like an animal who just stepped into a metal trap, his fingers bruising her wrist, he started to drag her back to the palace. ‘’Let go of me!’’ because of the panic she couldn’t use the Voice on him.

‘’Enough games, little dove. You will be locked to your chambers until we leave for Giedi Prime.’’

She kept trying to fight and get away from him and he stopped in his tracks, an annoyed huff coming out of him he turned to her and with a swift move he lifted her to his shoulder like a cave man.

‘’I order you to let go of me!’’ this time she used the Voice but he wasn’t affected. Why? Y/N noticed the earplugs he was wearing. ‘’I out rank you Lady Y/N.’’ he chuckled and she could feel the panic rise in her. He slapped her butt and she whined in pain, his hand was heavy and big.

Feyd-Rautha marched the empty corridors and found her bedroom, he kicked open the door and threw her onto her bed which was covered with fluffy pillows and he was startled to see so many colors at once. She froze, supporting her body with her hand, he stood there like a statue, immobile. ‘’Thankfully other houses don’t know this foolish attempt of yours.’’ He said coldly ad slowly leaned to be on the same level as her. ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ She felt the threat of his words settle into the room, she felt as if his presence made her vision go dark and the only thing she could see was him.. Feyd-Rautha was so many things but a liar.

He left and she heard the lock on the door.

Y/N was in shock, she had to take deep breaths to calm her racing mind. Soon a maid came to lock the windows and leave her there, without a word.. even her own maids turned their backs on her, Harkonnens were feared. She belonged to them now, her body and soul was his.

She moved to the window to see the full moon, on her knees she prayed till morning came with its fog. Jessica entered with the maids and servants, Y/N was on her knees praying like a mad Bene Gesserit witch. ‘’Prepare the bath for my daughter.’’ Jessica ordered and went to sit next to her.

‘’You will understand me one day.’’ She knew what happened last night and was surprised, Jessica had never thought Y/N would rebel like this.. ‘’When I was in your whomb…’’ she began, ‘’why didn’t you change my sex?’’

Jessica had to tell the truth, ‘’I was ordered to have a daughter as first born. They didn’t tell me why. If I had known.. things would be different.’’ Her blue eyes searching hers, hoping to see something but Y/N was trained well, not a single emotion on her face, a blank slate. ‘’If you don’t manipulate him he’ll be the end of you, you’re my daughter, you have to survive.’’ Jessica kissed her daughters soft hair and stood up to give more orders to carry Y/N’s belongings to the Harkonnen ship.

Y/N watched other houses leave from her window, she tried to read while her servants worked in silence. The sun was setting when she wore her ceremonial gown. It was emerald green, the color fo her house and a hawk was on her chest, symbol of House Atreides. Her long hair was braided elegantly. Her father came to take her outside before the Emperor, it was the custom. Leto tried to talk to her but she didn’t budge, they walked in death silence.

There was a breeze outside, she saw everyone standing in their rightful places. Feyd-Rautha was standing in front of the Emperor who was seated on a moveable throne. Feyd’s hands clasped behind his back, he watched Duke Leto bring Y/N to stand next to her, he noticed that she was avoiding eye contact like an expert.

Leto, when he made her stand next to her husband- to-be he took a step to Feyd, held his arm and whispered into his ear, ‘’Hurt my daughter and I will end your entire blood line.’’ He gave a pat on Feyd’s shoulder and left them.

The field was silent, she could hear the birds, it calmed her. Were there any birds in Giedi Prime?

Padishah Emperor Shaddam basically announced that this young couple had his blessing and the wedding would take place in House Harkonnen’s planet. He made them kiss his ring and ended the ceremony. Y/N walked to her family to say goodbye, Feyd watching her intently, Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, Jessica hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear.

‘’Remember your training.’’

Feyd made her take his arm, his ceremonial clothing was black, he was covered in it, together they walked to the ship. ‘’I must say you look pleasant in green.’’ He spoke quietly, Y/N turned to see the small smile on his plump lips, ‘’Thank you.’’ And they walked to the ship, Y/N looked at her family before the metal door closed.

Tag list; @superchatnoir07

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Thank you for reading. :)

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bachissidehoe · 8 months

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it's only just begun - isagi y.

chapter 1 of 7 of the blue lock band series. chapter 2. chapter 3. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 6. chapter 7.

synopsis: y/n was the number one fan of the underground alternative rock band known as "Blue Lock", who after earning a well-deserved following through a viral single, left her wondering if they'd even remember her if they saw her- if he'd remember her. and why would he? y/n's no longer the only Blue Lock fan to have an unrequited crush on their lead singer.

warnings: smut; fingering; penetration; overstimulation; degradation; unprotected sex; dominant isagi; fem reader; minors DNI

disclaimer: all songs referenced are credited to THE DEEP END

note: my first fic on tumblr! pls show some love and i'll be posting more content here from now on :)

w.c. 4.3k

And just like that, Blue Lock was no longer her secret little band that she felt like she had all to herself. It was fun while it lasted, but when their single “It’s Only Just Begun” took off almost a year ago, y/n slowly fizzled out of Isagi Yoichi’s life into the category of just another fan of his.

She can’t help but feel a little upset at times, she really enjoyed talking to Blue Lock’s front man nearly every day. It felt like she was part of it. She remembers when they were writing their hit song and Isagi would run some lyrics by her- after all- it only makes sense that Isagi would take his #1 fan’s professional opinion into consideration.

As for the other band members- it’s likely they knew of her. They followed her on Twitter and occasionally replied to some of her comments. But it was nothing like her closeness with the lead singer.

Regardless, she still follows every single one of them on all social media and keeps up with their new releases. She even follows their manager and their stage director. And she’s proud of them, too. They’re a good band, they deserve this. They’ve always deserved to become as famous as they are now. So when their tour dates were released, y/n was the first in the queue, purchasing a single ticket.

And now she stands among the large crowd, the large crowd they deserve, listening to the beautiful sound of Isagi Yoichi’s voice followed by cheers and screams from his thousands of adoring fans. She can’t even bring herself to sing along, not even with the harmonies of the other band members, she doesn’t want to drown out any of his hypnotic, captivating voice. The way his mouth moves against the microphone, his vocal fry when he hits a high note, how he tosses his hair to the side to shake the sweat away, his smiles to the crowd- she wonders if he remembers her.

Alright, fine. Maybe y/n had a crush on Isagi Yoichi: the lead singer of Blue Lock, the man of many talents who not only sings like an angel, but plays guitar, keys, and even the saxophone. Maybe y/n still does have a crush on Isagi Yoichi.

She probably wouldn’t be waiting with a crowd of much younger teenage girls by the backstage exit in hopes she’d get to catch a glimpse of him on the way out of the venue if she didn’t have just a slight crush. She probably wouldn’t be telling herself “I’ll wait all night if I have to” if she didn’t have just a little crush on-

“Excuse me?”

Y/n turns around, catching the eyes of a woman about her age, dressed in the venue’s work uniform. She points to herself, mouthing “me?” to the woman.

The woman nods.

“Yes, what’s up?” She asks, stepping away from the crowd so she can hear her.

“I just have a quick question, do you mind stepping off to the side?” The woman asks politely, professionally. She works here, obviously, so maybe it’s important. Maybe they found something of hers she dropped somewhere.

Y/n shrugs, looking back at the crowd for a moment. She’ll surely lose her spot, maybe even lose her chance to catch the eyes of Isagi Yoichi on his way back to his hotel. But it’s probably dumb anyway. She seems to think seeing him will make him want to talk to her again, maybe even fall in love with her, maybe even-

“Sure.” She says, ditching her childish chances to date the band member of her dreams.

“I’m sorry to pull you away.” The woman says. “I just didn’t want to say anything too loud over there.”

“What do you mean?” Y/n tilts her head to the side.

“Are you l/n y/n?”

“Yes.”

“Great! I was told to look for the girl dressed in the blue skater skirt and fishnets, but there’s quite a few of those around.” She chuckles.

“What is this about?” Y/n asks again.

“Oh, my bad. One of the band members said he knows you. So he was hoping you’d wanna come back and say hi.”

Y/n’s heart flip flops in her stomach, and she instinctively squeezes her legs together to prevent the inevitable moment where said heart drops out of her body entirely. He remembers her- or at least one of them does. Enough to notice her in the crowd and ask to see her. She could scream. She wants to run back over to those teenage girls and tell them they lost.

“Are you fucking with me?” Y/n asks, a look of shock plastered across her face.

The woman laughs. “No, no. I’m serious.”

“I- I-” She stutters, trying to collect herself. It shouldn’t be like this. They’re just old friends, she doesn’t need to act like a deer caught in the headlights. She takes a breath. “I’d love to say hi.”

Suddenly she’s being snuck around to the back of the venue, through a door, and down a long hallway. She considers the possibility of this being a joke and her being robbed and murdered, but she’d honestly rather that than miss the chance to see Isagi Yoichi.

“You found her!” An ever familiar voice, a gorgeous one. It reaches her ears and penetrates the deepest reserves of her brain that she’s set aside for content relating specifically to him.

And he’s there, sitting on a plush beanbag clutching his guitar, his hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead.

“Isagi.” Y/n breathes out, smiling, her heart racing. It feels like it’s going a mile a minute. It didn’t actually fall out of her chest before, but it very well might now.

And Isagi, he’s beaming. He’s cheerful as ever, likely hyped from the amazing show they just put on.

“Y/n!” His expression changes to a light, playful smirk. “Thought I told you to call me Yoichi.”

“I- um-” She stutters, wishing she’d just be able to play it cool. “You’re right. I guess it’s been a while.” She scratches behind her head, becoming increasingly aware of the many eyes on her standing at the door of their backstage common area.

“I missed you!” He stands up, leaving his guitar strewn on his beanbag chair as he walks over to her, wrapping his comforting arms around her shaky body.

He missed her.

“I- missed you- too.” She manages. “You’re amazing.”

“Oh stop.” He shrugs off her compliment with a kind smile. “Guys, remember y/n? She was one of our OG’s.” He turns toward his band mates, one of his arms lazily strung over y/n’s shoulders. It might actually send her into a psychotic spiral.

“How could I forget the one who helped us decide on “always be the anchor in the back of my mind” for that verse?” The gorgeous lead guitarist flashes her a flirty smile.

And y/n’s attention is suddenly directed toward someone besides the lead singer- the other six people in the room besides a few workers- the members of Blue Lock, the up and coming alternative rock band.

Isagi Yoichi: Lead singer, keys & guitar Chigiri Hyoma: Lead guitar, vocals Nagi Seishiro: Backup guitar, vocals Itoshi Rin: Bass guitar, vocals Itoshi Sae: Drums Mikage Reo: Band manager Bachira Meguru: Stage director

“Chigiri, yeah. I did help out with that one, huh.” She giggles. “Great to see you again, and um, great to meet you.” She directs her attention to the manager and stage director, who were relatively recently brought into the scene. By the time Mikage and Bachira were hired, the band had already gotten fairly famous, and y/n had already basically lost touch with the original five members.

“It’s an absolute pleasure.” Bachira smiles.

“Great to meet you, Blue Lock’s number one OG fan.” Mikage greets her.

Of course, in obsessively keeping up with Blue Lock’s endeavors even after Isagi stopped talking to her personally, she’s well aware of the story behind Bachira and Mikage’s addition. Bachira is Isagi’s high school best friend, and Mikage is Nagi’s high school best friend. When she found out the two of them were brought on, she honestly was a little jealous. But they’re just as gorgeous as the band members, and meeting them in person is sending her body into overdrive. Plus, with Isagi’s arm still over her shoulders, she may as well be dripping down her leg.

“C’mere, we have so much to catch up on.” Isagi leads y/n over to the couch, sitting her next to Nagi as he sits back in the beanbag chair across from her.

“Are you catching up on the bus ride? Because we’re leaving for the hotel.” The unbothered drummer speaks up. “Or you can stay here and fuck her on the couch for all I care.”

Y/n can almost feel her skin melting off at Itoshi Sae’s comment.

“Hah! Well we’re not playing here again, so who cares?” Chigiri chimes in with a laugh, slapping the older Itoshi’s back.

“May as well go back to her place.” Nagi shifts his body slightly, bringing his left thigh flush against y/n’s on the couch. It looks like he’s hardly noticed, but y/n definitely has. It makes her want to press harder into him, maybe even lay on top of him- the irresistible snowy-haired fan favorite. “I’ll come too.”

“No you won’t.” Isagi playfully rolls his eyes. “And nobody’s going back to anyone’s place! I just wanted to say hi and talk to her!”

“Unfortunately, Isagi, Sae’s right and we do have to be heading out.” The manager chimes in, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to who y/n can only assume is the tour bus driver.

“Gonna have to talk to your lukewarm girlfriend another time.” The younger Itoshi slings his bass over his shoulders.

Itoshi Rin was definitely insulting y/n just now, but she still feels an electric pulse rocket through her body when his emerald eyes meet hers. He could insult her any time. Plus, he called her Isagi’s girlfriend.

“That’s all good, um, I’m glad I got to say hi-”

“No! Sae’s right, just come back to the hotel and hang for a bit.” Isagi suggests. “I feel bad, I haven’t talked to you in forever, I missed ya.”

Y/n feels like she could combust, knowing that everyone else in the room is considering Isagi’s potential ulterior motives. She only wishes that were the case. She could only dream of him wanting her in that way. Even in all their time talking, he never made a move on her. They only met in person a single time and he was nothing besides friendly, so it never made sense for her to be forward with him about her little crush.

“On- on your bus? To- the hotel?” She gulps.

“Unless you have something to do. Don’t worry, none of the fans or paps will see you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Reo will handle all that.”

Right. They probably do this all the time with girls. Obviously they’d have a protocol when bringing a girl back to their hotel. Even so, that’s not what she’s worried about at all.

“I don’t have anything to do! I’ll come with you!”

“Y/n, do you have a car here?” Mikage asks, already thinking ahead with making arrangements.

“No, um, I took the train-”

“Great!” He turns around, typing feverishly into his phone.

“When you’re done with her, send her over to me.” Chigiri winks. He was always the shamelessly flirtatious type, frequently jumping into frame when Isagi was facetiming her just to make a quick flirty comment.

“No way dude.” Isagi jokes.

And with that, she finds herself shuffled away and snuck onto the tour bus, snuck off the tour bus, and snuck into Isagi Yoichi’s hotel room.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry, you know, for like stopping talking to you.” Isagi walks around the room, a singular white towel around his shoulders, his hair still wet from the shower he must have taken while waiting for y/n to be gracefully snuck inside.

“Oh, um, I-” Y/n struggles to focus, given that Isagi Yoichi is standing shirtless in a pair of gray sweatpants in her direct line of vision. And his body is fucking incredible. “It’s fine, um, I dunno, you got popular, uh-”

“Yeah I got popular, but it all went right to my head. I cut out so many people and I’m just glad you’re not upset with me. I know I’m touring now and stuff but I felt like seeing you at the concert was a good opportunity to apologize-” He trails off, noticing y/n’s dazed expression as she looks at him.

“T’s all good.” She says, sounding like she’s from another world.

“Uh, you okay?” He chuckles nervously. “You tired? Sorry for bringing you here I know it’s late-”

“No! No I’m not! I want to see you, don’t apologize I understand I just, um, I miss being close with you and all, but you’re famous now! And you deserve it so-”

“I know, it feels pretty good. But you didn’t deserve to just be unadded and unfollowed one day. It wasn’t fair, you were always so good to me and the boys.”

“I- I was sad for a bit but I get it!”

“You were sad? Fuck, man.” Isagi sighs. “I know I hurt you, we were friends and I just threw it away because the fame got to my head.”

“No, no, I was barely sad- uh-” She panics, trying not to make him think he treated her anything besides perfectly. The last thing she wants is for him to remember her as that one salty fan he ditched. She’d rather him remember her positively, like someone who’s sweet, kind, an old friend. “I just missed you, it’s so good to see you! I never stopped listening to your music and supporting you, and when I saw you were coming here on tour I just had to go! I really am surprised you remembered me at all.” She chuckles nervously, her palms clammy and her eyes shaky.

He’s really just standing here, trying to apologize to her, with his shirt off. How can she possibly focus on a serious conversation?

“You’re surprised I remembered you?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Uh- well- I just felt like since you didn’t like me like I liked you I just thought you probably had other girls you were talking to or you know getting famous you’d want to like have girls and not really want me talking to you all the time-” It’s like her words are spilling from her lips before she can stop them, her eyes darting everywhere in the room besides Isagi. It’s like the things she’s been wanting to say to him can’t be stopped.

“Hold on.” He stops her. “You didn’t think I liked you?”

“Um, um at least not like that uh, you know-” She panics, her heart beating out of her chest and a layer of tears forming over her eyes.

“Y/n, I wanted to apologize to you because I did like you, and I didn’t want to tell you that because if I was going on tour, I wouldn’t be able to see you. And I just cut you out instead.” He sighs.

The words don’t even fully sink in at first. “Oh, okay.”

“I liked you, like, the whole time. So I just wanted to apologize.”

It finally starts to make sense. “It’s- it’s okay. It’s okay. I- you-”

Isagi chuckles. “Maybe I can’t date you, but-” He leans down, placing a finger under her chin, forcing her nervous gaze into his deep blue eyes. “I could make it up to you, if you like.”

His gaze is hypnotic, just like his voice. “I wanna, um, I- you- your-” She takes a breath. “Sorry.” She squeaks.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is softer, slower, closer than before. She hasn’t heard this version of his voice before. It’s beautiful.

“I want, I want-” She takes another breath, a deeper one, one that lets her fully realize what she’s about to do. “I want you, Yoichi.”

“Hm.” He breathes out. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He closes the gap, bringing their lips together, his finger still under her chin as he leans over her.

Her hands grip the sheets, her legs shaking as she sits upright on the bed. Suddenly she feels like this is her first kiss ever, like she has no idea what she’s doing.

His kiss starts out soft, but quickly devolves into something dangerous, something ravenous. His hand traces from her chin to her shoulder, his fingers pressing into her skin to push her backward.

And she lets him. How could she not? His fingers feel like they’re leaving permanent marks on her skin, like she’ll never forget where he touched her chin, her neck, her shoulders. She finds herself looking up at him, reaching for the towel around his neck to bring his lips back into hers.

In no time he’s on top of her, hungrily making out with her like he wants to devour her, his strong arms holding his body above hers as if he’d crush her if he were to let his weight crash down. She wouldn’t mind though, she’d be totally okay with him crushing her.

“Always wanted this.” He breathes out, leaving a slight space between their lips only briefly before reconnecting them. His tongue slides effortlessly against hers, his saliva dripping from his tongue to hers. It’s so wet, and it tastes so damn good.

She can only whine in response, reveling in his taste. She doesn’t have the space to talk anyway, not with his lips drinking up every single one of her noises.

“Love those pretty sounds, fuck I’ve been missin’ out.” He shifts his weight to one side, tracing his other hand down her body to the hem of her shirt. “Want this off, baby.”

Y/n licks her lips, completely dazed. “Off, baby?” She repeats, as if she’s shocked he would even say it.

“Want it off, so fucking bad.” His voice is so lustful, filled with such a different tone than his normal, upbeat, kind attitude. He’s horny.

“Mhm, please-” She lets him grab her collar, forcefully pulling her up so he can swiftly lift her shirt over her head.

“Ahhhh-” He groans. “And I’ve been missin’ out on that?” His movements are rough, his hands forceful, needy. Within seconds her bra is discarded on the opposite side of the room, his tongue cascading over her nipples like he’s painting them with his saliva.

She can’t stop herself from whining, moaning, it’s the only thing her brain can do while he sucks her tits like he’s trying to drink from them. He’s so different right now, he’s so dominant with her. She wants to sign her body over to him, she feels like her body should belong to him.

His other hand slides to her untouched breast, his fingers moving to pinch her other nipple, kneading it as if he’s trying to bruise her. His hand trails further, traveling smoothly under her skirt to rest on her plush thigh.

“G’na need these off too~” He slips his finger under the waistband of her panties, popping his mouth off her nipple to get through his sentence.

“Mhm~” Y/n nods, her hands resting her hands behind her head as she lets his expert movements own her body.

She’s dripping, she knows she is. The thin fabric of her panties wasn’t doing a great job of protecting her from her own arousal, but he slides them down her legs anyway, the soaked fabric leaving a trail of wetness down her thighs.

“Hm~” Isagi chuckles, his lips wrapping back around her nipple like it belongs there, dipping his middle finger into her soaked cunt. “Look at you, such a wet little pussy for me.” He says, adding a second finger.

Her body is a mess, her voice is fried, her brain is mush. She can’t do anything besides submit to his fingers etching themselves into the memory of her walls like they’re shaping her body for him and him only. His mouth makes a mess of her breasts while his fingers make a mess of her inner thighs, pumping easily into her slick hole.

“You’re already so ready f’me, but I need y’to cum first.” He gives his mouth a break, a final bead of saliva dripping from his tongue and landing on her already well-coated nipple. Without his mouth occupied, he goes harder with his fingers, curling them into her g-spot like he was the one who put it there in the first place.

“Fuck- fuck fuck- ahh~” The breathless gasps leave her lips, her eyes snapped shut as she feels the aggressive knot grow in her stomach.

“Y’need more? Hm? Bet you do, such a slut for my fingers.” He slurs, his thumb moving to rub quick circles on her throbbing clit.

“I- gonna- Yoichi~” She whines, the knot exploding ferociously as she cums around his fingers, leaking out of her hole as if it was too full to stay inside..

“Ah there ya go, dirty girl.” He spits, sliding his coated fingers out of her aching pussy, directing them immediately into her mouth. “Clean me up, will you?” He forces them between her lips, her tongue circling over his fingers, soaking up every bit of her own cum. It’s demeaning, it’s degrading. But it’s so damn hot.

“Taste good sweetheart?” He smirks, using his free hand to step out of his sweatpants he probably shouldn’t have put on after his shower in the first place.

“Hm, f-fu-” She tries, her mouth too full to let any coherent words form.

His cock springs out of its confinement, finally freed from the shackles of his boxers that struggled to keep him contained at all. And seeing the size of him- y/n wonders how any boxers would be able to survive without being shred to pieces by his gorgeous, thick cock. She wonders how she’ll be able to survive without being shred to pieces.

“Scared baby?” Isagi smirks, forcing her gaze from his cock to his dark, lustful eyes. “Don’t worry, you can take it.” He leans down to kiss her, a menacingly soft, degrading kiss. “Either way, you fucking have to.” He places one last threatening kiss against her lips.

Before she can process it, his arms are wrapped around the backs of her thighs, sliding her ass slightly off the edge of the bed as he lines his cock up with her desperate cunt. The oversensitivity of her orgasm makes his tip against her hole even more intense. She can’t help but writhe against his grip almost animalistically, like she wouldn’t be able to stop if she tried.

She’s wet enough for him to slide in easily, filling her up as if he’s carving out her hole himself. She wraps around him perfectly, squeezing around him in a way that causes his breath to catch in the back of his throat as he sucks in through his teeth. His nails dig deeper into her thighs, likely leaving a set of gorgeous nail marks she’ll surely cherish later.

“Fuck~” His saliva pools in his mouth as he speaks, threatening to drip onto her exposed skin. “It’s like you’re sucking me in babygirl.” He breathes, holding her thighs tight as he begins fucking into her.

Her fingers grip the sheets so hard she feels like she might rip them, she couldn’t have imagined being fucked like this, no matter how many times she got off to the thought of him back then. No matter how many times she’d play their songs in the background while she pleasured herself. She couldn’t have forced her brain to come up with a scenario where he holds her over the edge of the bed and fucks into her like she’s a doll.

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become relentless, her cunt squelching with each forceful plunge of his thick cock.

“Fuck, flip over.” He demands, though doesn’t give her any time to move her body on her own, flipping her body himself using only his tight grip on her thighs. “Knees.” He commands, and she does exactly as he says, propping her ass up and leaning forward on her elbows.

“Damn, what a fucking nice ass.” He slaps her once, gripping the plushy skin as he sheathes himself inside her once again. “G’na fuck you hard ‘till I cum, kay?” He uses his other hand to grip her hair, shoving her face into the mattress. “Be a good toy f’me.”

“Mhm~” She whines, though he wasn’t waiting for her confirmation anyway.

His thrusts are somehow harder from behind, wrecking her pussy with every forceful push of his cock between her slick walls. He pounds into her, leaving her nothing but a whiny mess as her pleas are muffled under the weight of his hand pressing her into the bed. The pain is overwhelmingly masked by the pleasure of being fucked by him, Isagi Yoichi, the lead singer of Blue Lock, but even she knows she’ll struggle to walk- or even stand- after this.

“G’na cum, g’na fill you~” He grunts, sloppily thrusting a few more shaky times before painting her insides white, his cum overflowing her cramped pussy. He pulls out, finally letting up on his tight grip on her hair and ass, his cum spilling out along with him.

“Yoichi-” She finally manages, shakily rolling over onto her back. “That was-”

“Hm? You think we’re done?” He stands over her threateningly, immediately sliding one of his fingers between her used, overstimulated folds.

“Babygirl, it’s only just begun.”

#blue lock #fanfic #anime #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #band au #bllk band au #bllk fanfic #blue lock fanfiction #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #isagi yoichi x you #anime fanfic #anime smut #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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seagoober · 1 year

Text

A Different Kind of Human ( Step 1)

TFP Optimus Prime x Female Human Reader

Optimus had seen countless beings across the galaxy. But she… she was different.

For a desert climate Nevada became confusingly cool when the Sun left the sky to rest behind the mountain tops. The lack of sun rays left only moonbeams to touch the surface of the young planet. The softness of the slight chill in the air was accompanied by the sultry darkness that encompassed the deserts of Nevada.

The night was still and calm. Tiny bugs were serenading the sweet silence of the night. Their soft songs harmonized with the low buzz of the lone Cybertronian wheels gliding on the asphalt of the deserted highways.

Optimus cherished nights like this. Nights where everything is tranquil. His precious Autobots at the base recharging peacefully in their berth-rooms. The Decepticons hiding away in their ship, leaving the beauty of the earth alone for a single night. All around was serene and still.

Except the Prime’s own thoughts. His processor was running in overdrive: disturbing the hushed nature of the evening.

The electrowaves inside his processor refused to be still. Waves upon waves of thoughts coursed in Optimus’s helm as his alt-form went to the unknown. The chattering of his mind didn’t cease even as his tires slowly stopped and his physical form came to a rest.

Optimus simply sat there in his alt-form as another wave of intrusive thoughts filled his processor. Time was non-existent, the Autobots were nonexistent, the Decepticons were nonexistent, he himself was nonexistent. The only thing real was the hushed voice he filed far away in his deepest files every day cycle.

‘How much longer with this war go on’

‘Am I doing what’s right?’

‘Can Megatron truly be stopped?’

‘How much longer can we last without substantial Everton reserves’

‘Am I worthy of the title prime?’

‘Am I even enough-‘

Optimus’s inner voice was halted in its wake of self destruction by an ambrosial melody. The honeyed voice singing this sweet serenade was only accompanied by the gentle tune of what Optimus assumed was a string instrument. He didn’t know what it was, but he did know that it was lovely.

His optics inside his alt-form lightly closed as he basked in the heavenly symphony only he was present to witness.

Her ethereal voice easily rounded around the notes of the melody. Each staff of the music was delicately executed to create a lyrical wonder that had Optimus craving more of her harmonious singing.

The words of her song were sad but not entirely so. They were reminiscent of a sort of melancholy with a bud of happiness at the center. The lyrics were bittersweet but still had a comforting warmth that enveloped his whole spark.

As gently as it started, the sweet notes of the music died out as she finished her song with a delicate vibrato. His optics opened to bare witness to this human who calmed his never ending worry.

She was quite a bit away. Perched on the roof of (what he assumed was )her vehicle, her legs swaying back forth rhythmically as she began to strum her wooded strung instrument again. Her fingers skillfully switched positions as the notes changed and she began to hum.

‘How long has she been residing here?’ Optimus wondered. It was unusual for a young woman to be playing music to herself in an abandoned parking lot. Optimus only grew curiouser and curiouser.

Her gentle strumming stopped as she turned her head to the rising the sun. Optimus’s optics were basking in the beauty of her form as the sun-rays surrounded her. Humans were a wonderful species, one that Optimus swore to protect with his entire spark.

But she… she was a different kind of human. One that he couldn’t even begin describe with his vast vocabulary. Her hair flowed as she turned to face his alt-form.

Optimus was one who understood what the human standard of beauty was, but she was most stunning individual he had laid his optics upon. No bot on Cybertron could compare to her radiance. Her eyes glanced over his alt-form, nothing else present but serenity in them.

Oh Primus her eyes. They were like two stars plucked from the sky. Optimus had seen countless optics and some human eyes, but hers. They were otherworldly in their radiance.

Only then did Optimus realize that it was sunrise. It had just been the early whispers of the night, how did he lose track of time so easily? How long was his processor buzzing with worry and distress?

Ratchet would be rising from his short recharge soon. Optimus had to leave the human and her vehicle alone as to not raise suspicion or anxiety back at base. He was about to start his engine when the girl moved.

She gently climbed down from the top of her car with her instrument at her side and started walking towards him. Her footsteps were muffled, barely even making a noise.

She stopped a right by his driver side door and she climbed up upon him. Her actions startled Optimus to his spark. Did she know what he was? Did she see him staring?

His processor started to buzz with distress again when she placed a small sticky piece of paper on his windshield. She took out a decorated pencil and wrote something on the note silently. Putting her pencil away, she then placed a few bills under his windshield wiper, making sure to hide the money from any prying eyes.

“There you go. You must’ve been here for quiet awhile. Safe travels Mr. Trucker”

Her voice was like nothing he’s heard before. It was just as harmonious as her singing but more delicate. She carefully climbed down and went back to her car.

Her engine started and slowly her car left the parking lot. Optimus was unmoving. Stunned from the sheer kindness this human had given him.

Optimus checked his inner clock and cursed. He had to get back to base now or Ratchet will lose it and send everyone looking for him. He’s a prime and he has greater responsibilities than loitering in a parking lot.

He started his engine and pulled out of the parking lot. As he began the trip back to base, Optimus could only think of that human and the note she left him. That ethereal human that could be ascribed to myths of Cybertron.

She truly was a different kind of human.

Hi! This is my first fanfic on tumblr so I hope you liked it! Big daddy prime makes me very happy lol. I have a narrative in mind where I want this to go. Lemme know if y’all want more! I’m also open to doing other bots too. I love all the TFP bots!!!

Btw the reader was playing a lute and her car is a Chevy Spark LT. and yes the name is an Aurora reference. Her music is top teir. I was inauthentic reader singing black water lilies or this could be a dream but is up to interpretation.

See you next time fireflies!!

#tfp #transformers #transformers prime #tfp x reader #optimus prime x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime #oneshot #tfp ratchet #seagoober writes #a different kind of human series

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

Note

wait wait wait omg where was 1dbandmate!yn in the carpool karaoke??

Carpool Karaoke

SINCE 2010 MASTERLIST

Here are some of the highlights! :

"Hey man, eh do you think you can help me get to work? Ugh, thanks man you're the best." James hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief.

It's not long before Niall slides into the passenger side only for Louis to open the back door. YN follows in and scoots her way in with Harry on her trail. And finally Liam comes in and closes the door by his side.

"Hey James." YN smiles as she adjusts herself in her squished seat.

After some initial greetings, James is slowly 'driving' their way out of the parking lot. It was like a mum picking up her kids from school.

"Seat belts on everyone. Anyone need to wee?"

Harry raises his hand, "I need to wee."

"Hold it." James says dismissively.

"Can we get some food on the way?" YN asks, leaning over the best she can in between the center console, one hand on the driver's head rest and the other on Harry's knee.

"Of course we can, golden child." James says causally, 'focusing' on the road ahead on him. YN sits back in her seat with a satisfied smile as if she's silently boasting about how she's the favorite one out of the bunch.

...

When Best Song Ever comes on, YN falls right back into her usual harmony. Her and Harry look to each other, moving their fists in up and down as they sing, "We danced, we danced, it goes something like this!"

When James when he hits Zayn's high note, the band stops with wide eyes and surprised smiles as they look to the tv host.

...

James and Niall hands everyone a jean jacket. It was pretty difficult for the band in the back seat to put one since everyone was so tightly squished together.

"Louis! Yeh nearly clocked me eye out!" YN moves her head out of the way just in time to miss Louis's fist.

"Move yeh head then!"

Harry beckons his fingers so she can lean more over to his side behind him as he leans forwards.

Then James goes on to teach the band choreography for No Control.

"I'm a loaded gun," James makes a motion for everyone to point down to their crotches, making the band let out a chuckle. "YN if you don't wanna do that p--"

"No, no. I'll point to me own **** too. That's cool." Her cuss word is beeped out from the video and it makes James let out one of his high pitched laughs.

And when they're performing, everyone acts very suave as if they were actually doing a music video.

"Taste," YN sings to front view camera, lifting her shoulder to her cheek in a sultry way.

"Where is it Niall?" James asks, turning to the blonde lad as he sticks out his toungue.

"On my tongue." She slides the backs of her hands under her chin and jawline while fluttering her eyelashes. "I don't want to wash away the night before. Before!" She riffs her last word.

...

While James has Niall playing Sleep With, Marry, Cruise, it can be seen in the background that YN is mindlessly playing with the threads coming off of the rips in Harry's jeans at his knees. Although their conversation isn't picked up on camera, fans can clearly see them talking quietly amongst themselves.

Harry leans his head a little bit over to her ear, not so much given how squished together they are from their seating arrangements (which he's certainly not complaining about), "Dunno why we always gotta be playing games like this."

"Oh? So you're tellin' me you've got better things to do?" YN teases with a soft smile.

He's sitting right next to his crush for the past 5 and a half years, their sides and faces so incredibly close to one another than he can breathe in the minty gum she's chewing, her fingers grazing his bare knee as she braids the tiny threads peaking out from rips there--he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"Clearly." He playfully widens his eyes and is gifted when she huffs out a laugh through her nose.

"Who would you choose?"

You.

He gives his shoulder a shrug, "Eh, dunno. Like I said I don't fancy these games. You?"

"Can't tell you tha'." YN discreetly turns up heat setting on Liam's seat warmer on the middle console in front of her while he's looking out the window. "You'll hold it against me one day."

"Whot? Is it me for all three of them?" Harry teases. He only said that just to see her give him one of her infamous eye rolls, maybe even a playful shove. But his heart begins to race when she sees her eyes still focused on where her hands mess with the threads, her lips tucking inward to keep her smile from growing.

"S'bit narcissistic of you, innit?"

Harry's thoughts begin to go a mile a minute. She explicitly didn't agree to that being her answer, but she also technically didn't deny it either. Before he can think to say another word, James suggests for everyone to sing along to their next track.

...

And the part where James does a rap for bridge of Drag Me Down and everyone chips in with their own flare, YN sings the consist melody of the pre-chorus.

Together, Harry and YN harmonize their first high note riffs together.

"Nobody can drag me down!"

The volume of their singing can be annoying to the boys next to them but they could honestly care less. It's when they get to their second set of high notes that the two end up bursting out in laughter at the fact that both of their voices crack at the same time.

YN puts a hand over her smile and the other to Harry's knee as she leans forward in laughter.

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish

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springbreezes-and-peonies · 3 months

Text

Peony

Peony can’t recall her own birthday, as the concept of dates and years is difficult to grasp when every day you live in solitude. In perfect, peaceful, sunny bliss. Like the summers of a childhood long past, free, vivid, warm…Everyday a flowering spring morning after rain, quiet and happy and perfectly, perfectly safe. She cannot read, or write. And indeed she would fumble through any attempts to keep a schedule or track of time even if she were trying with all her willpower. But, she can garden. She has a natural tendency to plants, a bond with them as innate as breathing, as pumping blood to your heart, and it is a blessing for her too, because her plants love her, and she loves them. She can hear them, as if they have little voices of their own, speaking to her, in her mind and in her heart. Peony cannot read, but she can sense the struggles of a bed of mums from many yards away. She cannot write, but she can hear the rare and beautiful, (and maybe slightly discordant) songs of wildflowers and weeds. Dandelions, clover blossoms, and speedwell sing in a harmony, or perhaps disharmony, all their own and it is something most people will never hear. She does not know her birthday (though the plants tell her she is 26? 27? 30?) but she can heal a dying rose bush with her touch, her kiss could mend even a wilting belladonna, and she dances with all of the grace and abandon of petals caught by a gentle spring breeze, of a girl raised by flowers and ferns and trees, of a lady who knows not what shame or humiliation are, and who is perfectly, entirely: herself.

She lives a very warm and happy life, even in solitude as her plants love her and guide her. Indeed she was named by the flowers, for when she came drifting to the lonely sky island on the outskirts of the Floralian kingdom’s archipelago, dropped by the wind with care at the feet of weeping willows, atop soft moss, they thought she may have BEEN a Peony and not a darling little moth-caterpillar. She was so covered in flower petals gathered in the breeze, they could be forgiven for such a mistake. The plants could not have known how such a name would come to suit her as she grew and matured, once her metamorphosis passed, and she became a lovely, grown moth-kind, she certainly resembled a Peony more and more. Her skin petal-pink, a cotton-candy crown of her curls atop her pretty pink head, curling playfully around her fuzzy gold moth antennae. Her sunset eyes light up her face and up close (or when especially excited) they sparkle and gleam as if they’ve been splashed by morning dewdrops, and beneath them, glittering, gold freckles dot her soft cheeks. She is a woman in love with dresses, flowing, playful, petal-y dresses with tiers and layers and ribbons.

Yes, Peony is very happy, for this solitude does not feel quite like solitude when the shy violets tell you their secrets, or the playful daisies gossip to you of what they’ve heard on the breeze of life in the castle.

“Did you hear?? The beloved Queen has transformed her appearance so completely! Folks say she doesn’t go out as much anymore and spends time alone in her room, managing her appearance…”

“Oh???” Peony asks, tilting her head inquisitively.

“Well, that’s what the hollyhocks in the castle gardens say. They say they see Lord Taranza more and more each day too. Alone. She must be spending less time with him as well…They say he seems very sad.”

“How terrible…” She frowns, and truly does feel quite sorrowful. “From all accounts he loves her dearly…I cannot imagine how that must feel…”

And this is more than true. For this is the one sadness in Peony’s life of bliss and summery wonder: she cannot imagine how this heartache must feel, for she has never had any sort of bond with another. She has heard gossips of friendship and love from her plants. Acts of kindness and care, of platonic bonding, of romantic courtships…She has known little of either. The flowers and trees and ferns are all good and sweet and loving in their way, but as she grows and matures she begins to feel they are a poor substitute for interaction with one of her kind, another Floralian, someone like her. But no one ever visits her little sky island, and a life of solitude makes her wary of fluttering off with her wings and venturing out to the more populace sections of the kingdom. So, she stays. She gardens. She watches the sunsets and stargazes as the dandelions whisper and sing to her, she kisses their seedlings off into the sweet breeze, hoping that at least they may sprout their roots somewhere that will give them all they need, all they pine for, and she does her best to be content with this life she’s been given…

And, for the most part, Peony is content. But hopes, and day dreams, and desires have a way of persisting no matter the distractions, and this desire has been pressed to within the tender soils of her heart by her own gentle hands, and like the seed it is, it takes root, and grows until she can think of nothing else but knowing the love of another, to go without threatens to split her delicate heart in two.

“I want a friend…” She whispers sorrowfully.

“We’ll be your friends!” A chorus of sunny daffodils replies in cheerful affection.

“I know.” Peony responds, and smiles sadly to herself.

“I want a beloved…I want to feel loved.” She sighs, laying in the empty, colorful fields on a cloudy day.

“We’ll love you Peony! You care for us everyday! You tend to us so carefully, even when we prick you with our thorns, you sing to us and talk to us and help us grow! You are beautiful inside and out!” The roses exalt her passionately, and honestly. But Peony sighs in response and simply nods her head.

“I know…” She whispers again, that same sad smile set on her pretty pink lips, as if it’s been carved there, immutably.

Then one day, everything changes. It is bright, sunny morning like many on her cozy island, and Peony is in her yard, in her garden, tending to her plants. She hums softly to herself and whispers gentle affirmations to her little plants, tending them with love and care, her melancholy pushed to the back of her mind as she sets her mind and heart to her task.

“My, my…What’s a gorgeous little creature like yourself doing all alone on this island…?” A voice. A non-plant voice, warm and smooth like a summer evening drifts to her ears, her antennae twitch and tickle…as she hears it…She moves her eyes from her work and looks around, and at the gate of her garden she can see him standing there, leaning on the fence…A moth-kind like herself…His skin gold…hair long and dark like a starless sky, his eyes black shadows on his golden face that seem to bear into her heart…A span of gold and black wings at his back, six dark, gloved hands rest on her wooden fence as he watches her from outside her garden, as if he’s studying a work of art…His voice, his presence, his appearance are so strange and so regal to Peony. She takes a breath. She tries to speak but the words simply won’t come. She can’t find them. They’re lost to her under his gaze.

“I don’t mean to frighten you, precious girl. I was simply struck by your beauty as I was flying by…” He explains, his words sweet as honey, his tone soft but confident. He does not approach closer than the fence.

“O-oh…Golly…” Peony blushes deeply, her pink face growing ever pinker. She is struck by his words…Something strange, something new is blooming in her heart, making her chest feel tight and her breath fall short. She is nervous…anxious…a little fearful of this stranger, but oh so excited. This is so new. The mundane is shattered. This is something different in days and days that pass in a sunny, flowery blur, this is unique…

The stranger chuckles softly as Peony merely stares at him, in awe of him. He shakes his head playfully at her.

“Are you always this way when you meet a stranger my dear?” He asks, his voice a reverie ringing in her ears.

“I-I…I don’t meet people often sir…” Peony replies, raising two of her yellow-gloved hands to her burning cheeks. She continues, a little breathlessly. “I-in fact you’re the first other than my plants…”

“Really?” The stranger tilts his head curiously, his black, pin-like antennae curl inquisitively at this.

“Mhm.” Peony smiles, feeling a little more at ease as they converse. The stranger grins.

“Well then it is quite an honor and a delight to be the first visitor you have little flower.” He chuckles again, enthusing over her.

Peony feels herself become so flushed and so shy with every compliment he gives…his praise of her beauty is overwhelming for her, his very presence is such a shock to her system, but she dare not retreat. She feels innocently and quickly taken with him. And from this day on, her days of pure, childlike, mundanity were over.

The stranger begins to visit every day. He watches Peony garden from just outside her garden gate, leaning against the wooden posts, his dark eyes seemingly unblinking as her gentle hands tend to her flowers, her plants. His voice, his words are almost entrancing to her, as if his speech is a spell cast upon her heart and soul.

“The flowers tell me you are lonely.” He says, his tone sympathetic and kind.

“They do??? You can speak to them too???” She asks, so very stunned by this. They are alike. So alike. Finally, someone like her…

“I can. And they do. Is that true pretty girl?” He asks gently of her.

“It was…” She responds shyly, the blush returning to her face, causing her pink face to nearly glow with its rosy tinge.

“Oh? It was?” He smiles at this, gazing affectionately at her rosy cheeks.

“It was…”

Days begin to come and go quickly for Peony now. Every morning she rushes herself from bed, her pink and gold wings abuzz to get to her garden, to see this man…This man who has captured her heart. Every day they spend longer and longer together, the hours fly by so quickly, too quickly as the instant he is gone she is pining for his company again. He stays at the garden gate, never entering, always watching, listening to her talk about flowers and plants and her abilities with them, smiling to her, showering her with praise, and compliments and adoration.

One day, it is very late, and she is still in the garden, he is still nearby, listening to her sweet babble about her flowers and her gardening skills, and after a long moment he tenderly interrupts.

“Peony…Do you trust me?” He asks of her, as if she wouldn’t at this point, as if there is so much weight to this question.

“Do I trust you?? Of course I trust you!” She answers in kind, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “I trust you with my whole heart! With my soul!” She enthuses, a wide smile cross her face, her pink eyes sparkling with joy, with pure, true, honest love.

He smiles, his eyes like pools of the night sky surrounding them on his golden face.

“Then may I come in and sit beside you awhile?”

Peony blushes faintly at this, fiddling shyly with the pink bow tied round her neck, but after a moment she nods, realizing she’d want nothing more. She’d never wanted anything more.

At once, he opens the wooden gate, and moves smoothly, elegantly to her, as if the grass was made to bend to his graceful passage. He sits beside her, very close, facing her, his eyes gazing unblinking into hers. He is silent for a time, and all Peony can hear is her breath sharp in her throat, and her heart beating against her chest as though it would escape and offer itself to this man of its own volition if it could. She gulps.

“H-hi.” She simply says. She’s never been this close to him before…She’s never been this close to anyone before.

“Hello.” He responds, chuckling softly, and as Peony listens she is only now noticing, there is a faint, whispering echo to his silken voice when he speaks.

She tilts her head, moving her face close to his, her wings buzzing as she examines his face up close with great curiosity. She flutters all around him, looking him over close up as much as she can before landing and sitting across from him once more.

“Beautiful…” She murmurs sweetly, honestly…

He chuckles again, shaking his head gently. “My dear, if you’ll permit me, I’d like to give you a kiss…” He whispers to her, such tenderness to his voice. “Your very first…”

Peony gasps, and hesitates at this. She feels a little unsure, such a gesture is so grand, so new for her. She thinks hard for a moment. She remembers all her days of yearning for someone, a friend, a companion, a beloved. She remembers the strain on her heart, the melancholy and mundanity and how his simple presence shattered that, and she knows she wants to kiss him. She longs to with her entire heart. She nods.

“Oh I’m so delighted my flower. Would you close your eyes? Then I will give you your kiss…” He sighs softly, tilting her chin up delicately.

She gazes upon his beautiful, golden face…and she shuts her eyes…

And for a moment she feels nothing at all. She doesn’t even feel his presence before her. She doesn’t feel his hand tilting her chin. She doesn’t even feel the grass beneath her. She opens her eyes and sees nothing. Only darkness. Then, in an instant, a rush of unbearable, insurmountable feelings begin to course through her mind. Feelings of sorrow, of anger, of hatred, feelings so unfamiliar to the innocent moth. She feels intense pain and agony and as she opens her mouth to scream no sound comes out. He is gone. Everything is gone. Something is horribly, horribly wrong…She passes out with one final thought as consciousness drifts away…’I didn’t even get my kiss…’

After an unknowable amount of time, consciousness returns to her, and she can see again, but she still feels entirely numb. And as she focuses hard, she realizes in horror what her vision is seeing…Her own hands, her own self, destroying her plants, and not just her garden…not just her plants, but everything in sight. Her powers working in opposition to their natural state, everything she touches falling to decay…Even worse, she cannot stop, she is not in control…Some dark force has her possessed, something is piloting her body, destroying her home against her will. A deep sorrow fills her heart, making her sick to the pit of her stomach as the realization dawns on her…

“It’s him. He wasn’t even real. He…He was some darkness pretending in order to get ahold of me…To do this.” She cannot scream. She cannot cry. She can only look on in horror, trapped inside herself like a prisoner in her own mind, as she destroys everything she’s ever loved with her own hands. She hears ferns, flowers, even trees who have sheltered her for her entire life as she has sheltered them call out to her in pain, pleading for an end to this, but there is nothing she can do and no end in sight. There is no reprieve from this destruction, or the very new, very keen sadness it brings.

Time passes for awhile like this. Days. However long Peony cannot say, but the destruction does not end. She feels numb, lost, grey…She wants an end to it, anything for it to stop…Then one bright, cloudless day, she sees something as her face turns towards the sky…a ball of pink floating towards her against the blue…It gets closer…QUICKLY closer! It’s coming for her!

Peony is stunned, this small, pink, round creature is quickly upon her! Its eyes bright blue, within them the very images of the stars. It attacks with tenacity and speed she does not expect. She watches, helpless to stop herself as her possessed form begins to strike back against it, calling forth plants, vines, striking out with everything available to her.

“Oh no! No please don’t hurt the little thing!” She cries in her mind for it to stop, but she continues fighting back…and yet…so does the little pink ball…He bounces effortlessly back no matter how hard she hits him…He fights with such courage, such determination, she realizes he will not give up, and the darkness possessing her won’t allow her to either…At the end of this confrontation, one will be slain. She is filled with fear for the little pink creature, though he is strong, surely he cannot stop her slaughter…?

The battle wages on, no matter how many times the pink creature is hit, he refuses to give up, and after fighting him off for sometime, she can see her movements are becoming slow, sloppy, weak, and yet he is just the same as he was at the start…Finally, after sometime it’s over. Peony is defeated, and she feels her vision fading…as she is once again blacking out.

“It’s over…I’m through…If this is how I leave this life then……then…”

For a time she thinks no more……

And suddenly…her eyes are fluttering open…and she can move herself! She is in control again! And the first thing before her as her sparkling pink eyes open up, is that little pink ball! He has such a concerned look on his plush, pink face, his eyes nearly pressed to her own, swirling stars in their blue pools, gentle, childish sounds coming from him. He taps her head tenderly with one of his rounded arms, making a quizzical, concerned sound.

Peony feels a wave of relief washing over her. She’s alive, she’s okay…But something else washes over her as well, something doubtlessly caused by this creature’s presence, this pure, boundless happiness and warmth and…love. Real love. She can’t contain herself, laughter is bubbling up within her, desperate to escape, and she picks up the tiny pink ball with her six hands and spins around happily with him, laughing with such bliss, such warmth, and she can hear him laughing too. ‘Kirby’…The name passes through her mind as she affectionately bumps her forehead to his, and she blinks in understanding. She kisses his head lightly, hugging him tight, both of them laughing some more.

“Thank you Kirby…” She whispers to him, tears forming in her eyes, tears of freedom and peace…She feels Kirby squeeze her tighter in a hug, cooing affectionately, soothingly to her and something in her feels like everything is going to be alright…

After their embrace, Kirby takes off on his Warpstar, waving goodbye. Peony waves back, sighing heavily, a deep, regretful feeling slowly enveloping her as she looks at the destruction surrounding her. All her plants, her friends, and she can hear the sorrow they feel, the pain, the grief…She thinks hard for a moment, and takes a deep breath…There is one thing at least she can do.

Peony flutters up into the sky, high enough so she can see all of the surface of her island in view. She gathers her wits, and her strength. “I’m sorry. I will undo this pain my friends. I will never take you for granted again…”

She cries out hard, letting out an intense burst of energy that coats the dying grass and trees, glittering with life, with her love, coaxing things to be born anew…to heal…to live…And as her plants are healed by the forces deep within her very soul, she gently sinks against the grass to sleep…very much in need of rest…

Once Peony wakes, the flowers and plants are lively, they are coming back, all thanks to her…But Peony can no longer hear them, her touch no longer coaxes the dying petals of flowers back to their prime, and if they can understand her still she does not know. She sighs, smiling sadly, gazing out at the sky as the sun rises…”It will be okay…It’s just…a new start.” She looks up at the clouds, and blows a gentle kiss up to them, hoping it may reach Kirby, that little pink ball who saved her, who gave her a second chance…

#hoshi no kirby #kirby #kirby fanfic #kirby oc #Kirby oc fanfic #OC fanfic #kirby fandom #kirby fanart #kirby triple deluxe #triple deluxe oc #kirby taranza #triple deluxe OC fanfic #Kirby OC fic

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uldren-sov · 2 months

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Another try

Just a little snapshot of some pre-relationship/sevenmance Camy Rose (Camila Rodriguez-Rose), around 20-21 years old, trying to make something work... again :) When "it's complicated" is only just scratching the surface lolol Camy Rose and Jacqueline are OC's Seven Lawless, Rowan Hart, and the band are all from @infamous-if

✩

Camy is always her best when she’s on stage. The lights, the music, the heat, the crowd, all of it comes together in a perfect way that lets her get out of her own way and forget herself. It’s the perfect relationship: the version of her that she loves most gets on stage and it’s the version that people love. Hell, for a long time no one even saw her and she used to prefer it that way. You can’t be rejected or ignored when there’s no interest in the first place. But that first time on stage was the first time she dared to want that attention, the first time people wanted her, the first time she wanted to be seen. Out of all of the relationships she’s had over the years, friendships and partners alike, her relationship with the stage has been one of her few constants.

Jackie, though? Jackie saw someone more – wanted something more. Another relationship she can add to a comparably far more recent list.

Maybe it was a cliche to want the waitress of a bar they had just played at, but she couldn’t help herself if she tried. Not when Jackie’s full tight curls bounced when she laughed at her jokes, not when Jackie revealed she had a dimple on one side of her mouth as she talked music and art, and definitely not when her dark eyes glittered when she talked about her plans for the future; Camy was inspired as much as she was in awe. It was so rare for her to find someone who she connected with so quickly despite being so different. Their small talk after the set led to talking until the sun rose behind them, and kissing until she was late to class. It was one of the most tame excuses she had for Seven when she got home to explain why she was still in last night’s clothes, but it still had her gushing until her roommate was rolling his eyes and drowning her out by blasting music in his headphones.

That was 62 days ago. And while Jackie saw more than most, Camy Rose has yet to meet someone who wanted to see everything. The bet Rowan has going is that they can alternate who plays the guitar solos if she can keep a partner down for 90 days.

She wished she came close.

Still, nothing can compare to a performance, everything else fades away especially when it’s one as good as tonight’s. It’s their biggest venue to date, the crowd was alive, the band sounded great, and she and Seven could not be more in tune with each other – musically, mentally, truly everything was just perfect. The crowd’s energy was infectious, so when she danced her way to him, he wasn’t surprised. His eyes lit up when she covered his hand with hers to steal his mic for her part, tilting it to her to sing. It was impossible to look away from him and even as the lights bared down on them they were nothing next to how bright his smile was as they locked eyes, how his eyes glinted as he pulls the mic back to sing his part, how he practically glowed with his energy and effort and how it made wisps of his long hair stick to his skin. Back and forth, they shared his mic through the short rally of lyrics, leaning closer and closer until their harmony ends on their high note. She dissolved into soft laughter as she let go of him and returned to her own mic. Fuck, it was fun when they were locked in like this.

The rest of their set was perfect, or at least she thought it was. Because now she’s left chasing, following, feeling like she’s trying to hold onto sand that just keeps slipping through her fingers, as she’s jogging after Jackie as they wind through backstage. She said she’s leaving with or without Camy, while Camy’s left racking her brain for how she fucked up this time.

“Can we at least talk about this?” she fixes the rolled up sleeves of her flannel shirt as she accidentally elbows - and apologizes to - yet another staff member as they rush past.

“What is there left to say?” Jackie throws over her shoulder, and the disappointment hurts far more than any of Jackie’s anger. Pulling off to a side hallway that led to the stairway exit, she’s able to run and stop Jackie with a gentle grab of her hand. Despite her opened shirt and exposed bralet she was still burning up from the performance, having just run off stage, and she’ll admit it: stopping Jackie while knowing she looks like this might make her girlfriend think about what she’ll be losing if she leaves now. She’s come a long way from the mousy girl she was in high school and she knows it, and something tells her she’s going to need everything to get through this. A quick glance down her body from Jackie’s dark eyes makes her think maybe it’s working, but she know’s that’s only the start.

“Tons! So much. Please, whatever it is we can work it out, let’s just get on the same page here.” She stands before her now, searching her face, searching for Jackie’s other hand to hold. She’s beautiful and her makeup is immaculate on top of it, Jackie is immaculate, is perfect, so how could she feel as though this is anything but her own fault here? Yes, things were getting tense between them. Yes, they were seeing each other less due to – a lot of different reasons, but that didn’t mean they had to do anything hasty! Right?

“I don’t think there is a same page for us here anymore, Camila,” she regards her coolly and a muscle twitches in Camy’s jaw. Despite the sweat and heat, an immediate chill soaks through to her bones. Did she regret telling Jacqueline about her name at the time? No. Does she now? Well. “I saw all I needed to.”

“Whoa, what?” She stiffens. Now, she wasn’t expecting this. “Saw what? The performance? You’ve seen us perform that’s how we met, that’s how we started.”

“It’s not that. It’s just – I get that I’m new in your life, I do. I get that I’m an outsider when it comes to a lot of what you go through, of what and how your life is. I get that making time for us is hard with what’s on both of our plates. I understand and I hope, after everything I’ve done - we’ve done, I’ve shown that,” she begins in a measured tone that repeats all the issues they have already worked through. Or at least, Camy thought they had worked through. But she shifts on her feet even as she keeps gentle hold of Jacqueline’s hands. Already her heart starts to pound and her pulse starts keeping a beat in her ears. So much for being seen, for being understood, for being...

But, where’s the but. “But-” Right on cue. “Oh, don’t give me that look.”

“What look? No, I just appreciate you going back to all the things that you already had an issue with when you’re now about to add to it,” she can’t help herself as she already starts to heat up.

“It’s valid criticism, don’t be such a child.”

“And now I’m a child for being upset over you having a list of things you don’t approve of in my life again. If you get it, if you wanted to make the effort to understand, you wouldn’t bring it up like you’re glorifying your sacrifices.” Maybe not a child but she didn’t say anything about petty. “I’m an artist, if I couldn’t handle criticism I wouldn’t have gotten where I am now, so don’t insult me too.” But that wasn’t anything new, what’s new? She grinds her teeth as energy starts to charge under her skin.

“Don’t turn this on me. Because all of that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even talk to you when it comes to trying to make some space for me. Camila, I can’t trust you. I can’t trust you to include me in your life when it matters, I can’t trust you not to keep me out,” Jacqueline takes her hands away. “And I can’t trust you around Seven.” Camy’s stomach drops and she lurches straight, she can’t help but immediately pull up her guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you really expect me to believe I’m not some kind of an experiment?” Jacqueline scoffs. A narrow of her eyes sharpens the chill in her blood and turns something vicious on her tongue; lots of meanings to that, and she wonders if Jacqueline means them all.

“He has nothing to do with any of this!”

“There’s not going to be any space for anyone else with him there!”

“He’s my best friend, and my roommate. Do you want to pay for half my rent instead?” She can’t help but raise her voice at this. It twists her stomach to want to defend this, to be in this position in the first place, and to cheapen her friendship with Seven like this. Crossing her arms she squares herself up for the finale, because now? Now, there was no talking this down, there was only talking through. Last minute barbs, critiques, before the inevitable farewell.

“You’re wearing his shirt,” she says. Simple, straight, to the point, and shot through her heart. The heat that washes down her spine has nothing to do with the heat of the performance as the embarrassment and shame sinks into her. Silence weighed heavily on her now as she chewed on her tongue, losing the game of chicken as she has to look away.

“So we’re just saying fuck it to sides of the closet now,” Seven said, breezing through their bedroom as he chucked on some deodorant.

“If you want to pull from my half go ahead,” she grins as she fixes the sleeves and after a second of consideration in the mirror, undoes another button to really show off. “Don’t complain just because I look better in your clothes than you.”

“Better? Ha, sure. I’d say we should test it out, but I don’t think Jackie would approve,” he replied. They find each others eyes in their reflection and she presents her choker to him.

“Probably not. Guess you’ll just have to live with defeat.” He rolls his eyes as she grins and gathers her long hair up, letting him thread her choker around her neck. Something brief catching as their eyes meet in the mirror when he dusts his fingertips over her neck to clasp it, brief because he’s quick to skitter away after. Whatever.

The shirt feels heavy and itchy and uncomfortable now; indecent almost, like somehow it means something – something that it doesn’t! She sets her jaw as she chews through the shame, staring down at her scuffed, worn high-tops, and just shakes her head free of the blame Jacqueline is trying to assign to her.

“You know what, I also don’t need all this insecurity over my friends.” She says with a weight she hopes feels like a judge’s gavel. Jacqueline’s jaw drops open, scoffing in response but Camy still shrugs sharply in the face of her, well, ex’s outrage. “And at least we don’t have to do the song and dance of the ‘let’s stay friends’ lies, huh? You can go fuck off now, I’m done chasing,” she sniffs casually and settles her hands on her hips instead, glaring down dismissively at those gorgeous fucking eyes for the last time.

"At least I can face the truth when I see it, Camila, and confront it. I thought you were just a coward in denial, but now I see you’re completely fucking delusional." Jackie marches right by her, catching her shoulder on the way out as she stares at where Jackie once stood. The door bangs and reverberates down the hallway as it crashes out and bounces back closed.

Sinking into herself she slowly collapses down further and further, curling until her knees are into her chest and her hands are deep in her hair. No more hot air, no more excuses, Jackie was way too smart to not have her points and…

“Dammit,” she hisses, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was that really so wrong? Is it- are they really just that fucked? At some point, when can she just take responsibility that - that what? She can’t even start to approach whatever the fuck is going on in her fucking life, let alone whatever the fuck is happening with her and Seven now. The shirt she wore felt as charged as Jackie made it and in a rush she rips it off over her head and spikes it onto the floor. Why the fuck would she wear his shirt? Of course that was fucking dumb. She’s with someone why is she doing this? She shoves the heels of her hands against her eyes as she digs her chin into her chest. Fucking shirt, fucking stupid, stupid move.

The AC is cold and clammy on her bare back, it and the misery sinks into her meat and bones, and she’s pretty sure she hears people walking around way behind her. She should really wear the stupid shirt. Can she get arrested for indecent exposure if she’s still wearing a bra? Probably. She drops her hands and stares at the crumpled bit of flannel as the wave of anger ebbs and the resignation flows onto the shore of her emotions.

Jackie was so out of her league, she actually knew what she wanted to do with her life and was gorgeous on top of it. She had a plan, direction, and a goals for one, five, and ten years. What the hell were they even doing together? What the fuck did she see in her: struggling, working, student-slash-singer-songwriter? Her goal is a dream, nothing less and some days nothing more.

She’ll do anything but try and confront what’s right in front of her, won’t she?

She sighs heavily, dragging the shirt over to her, dragging it back over her head, but not yet dragging herself back up, not yet dragging her pieces back together. Not yet. Not while she can feel bad about the relief this bout of heartbreak gives her, not while she can wallow in how she doesn’t even cry over this.

She hugs the shirt around her, folding the top closed. It did feel nice to wear, to settle into the warmth of it, the comfort of it. It makes all those sharp things just a little softer.

“Was gonna ask what my shirt did to you,” Seven’s voice rings out from behind her and she flinches. It’s not only because she’s feeling sensitive about what really is happening in front of her, but mostly because she can’t deny what a relief it is to hear from him right now. “But figured something else went down. You okay?” He knows better, but the undercurrent of what he’s saying is there, and she hears what he didn’t say as clear as what he did. The hand on her back bleeds warmth back into her, the familiarity a flood that gets rid of all the anxiety and chill of her fight. Wordlessly she gets to her feet and threads her arms around his chest tight, taking refuge in the heart she knows so well.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she pulls her face from his shoulder, but doesn’t let go. “I will be.” Her eyes slide close as he rubs her back, putting the pieces of her back together wordlessly as she lets herself sink against him. “Just have to tell Rowan I lost his stupid bet again.”

#Infamous IF #Infamous OC #Seven Lawless #OC: Camy Rose #I'm sure there's a reasonable reason as to why her relationships fail #and maybe she WAS seen hmm? lolol #Anyways I was inspired so here <33 #my writing

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profoundlyfaded · 2 months

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I’m currently toying with fanfic for my main Gale x Tav ‘canon’ playthrough with Ayressa but it’s been years since I’ve written, still, I quite like this wee segment from their first meeting and I wanted to share even if I don’t ever really write much more than this…

‘Look, dead goblins, could have supplies,’ remarked Shadowheart as they reached an actual patch of road.

Ayressa turned to look but a glimmer caught her eye. Purple glinting through foliage, twinkling out like a beacon.

‘Look at that,’ she said to Shadowheart, pointing at the spot. ‘Magic, of some sort.’

‘Do we really want to go toying with random magic on the edge of a Mind Flayer crash site?’ She asked as Ayressa began to move towards it.

‘It magic from the Weave,’ Ayressa replied. ‘Wizard’s magic.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘The resonance,’ Ayressa said as she began to pick her way toward it. ‘All magic casters access the Weave in some form or another to perform their spells and I sense that as a resonance in the air; wizards feel like they’re plucking it, like playing a lyre while sorcerers seem to bounce off it like a thunder wave, other bards sound like they’re singing, its almost siren like.’

‘That sounds... Is that normal?’

Ayressa paused and tilted her head. ‘I’ve never stopped to consider if it is or isn’t,’ she admitted. ‘Even if it is, it’s different for everyone like how some people think in words and others in pictures.’

‘And you’re certain,’ said Shadowheart, ‘that

this is Wizard magic.’

‘Yes,’ Ayressa replied, a swirling portal causing wind to roar in her ears.

‘Looks dangerous.’

‘Yes,’ said Ayressa as she approached it. She raised her hand, trying to feel for the pull of magic and listening for its harmony around the din of its malfunction.

‘A hand, anyone?’

Reality snapped back to her and in the swirling mass was an outstretched hand; male, large and slightly calloused but otherwise pretty well manicured and beyond that a purple robe.

‘Anyone?’ Came the voice again.

She glanced at Shadowheart, who had lifted her mace. Ayressa slapped at the hand, more to assure herself it was real and not some indicator that she was about to transform.

‘Ow,’ exclaimed the person on the other end of hand. ‘Perhaps I should have clarified; a helping hand, anyone?’

Definitely real. And definitely a wizard. ‘Who are you?’ She asked when her wits returned.

‘Just your average traveller stuck between realms. Pull me out and we’ll get properly introduced.’

Ayressa looked at Shadowheart again. The Cleric shrugged but had lowered her mace so Ayressa stretched out her mind again finding the harmony of the spell then began countering it, drawing on the song of sleep she had just used to hush the devourers.

‘Whatever you are doing,’ exclaimed the hand, ‘it’s working wonders. Now a quick pull should do the trick.’

Keeping the song going, she grabbed onto his wrist. Ayressa was hardly the strongest woman alive but the lessening of the torrent of magic might be enough for the wizard to push himself out while she pulled. She hoped so anyway. She braced, then with all her might, tugged using her whole body. It was like pulling at a stubborn wine stopper, and she tugged again while focusing down on the song of sleep and gritting out ‘let him go.’

Then, like a cork becoming free, Ayressa tumbled back as brown haired man came flying out the portal. By the grace of Shadowheart grabbing her, Ayressa did not fall to the ground but the man landed on his hands and knees taking a deep breaths as the portal shut behind him.

‘Well,’ mused Shadowheart as they watched. ‘I’ve heard you can’t get blood from a stone but you can apparently get a wizard.’

‘Very good,’ replied the man as he got to his feet and brushed himself down. ‘Hello, I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies, I’m usually better at this,’ he continued, grabbing Ayressa’s hand to shake.

‘At introductions?’ She asked, slightly dazed by the experience.

‘At magic,’ Gale of Waterdeep said with a slightly sheepish inflection to his voice while his brown eyes tracked over her face, lingering her eyes, jaw and nose. ‘But I know you don’t I, in a manner of speaking, you were on the natualoid, weren’t you?’

His inspection of her face left Ayressa wanting to reach up and touch it, scared for a moment that something had changed. But she registered his gaze was unconcerned, more curious as he tried to place her in his memory of the last few hours. She didn’t recall seeing him and she was sure she would remember.

‘Never mind that,’ she said, ‘how did you get stuck in that stone? You could have died if the portal had closed.’

A pained expression crossed his face, one that Ayressa had seen on many a wizard when their magic was not up to scratch.

‘I don’t know what transpired exactly,’ he admitted, ‘but the ship broke into pieces and suddenly I found myself in free fall.’He spoke with a flourish of his hands skyward and she ended up following his line of sight to quiet blue sky above them. ‘As I plummeting towards certain death, I spied a glimmer of quite near to where I estimated my body to impact with less than savoury propulsion, recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side, as it were.’

He was quite the raconteur; his choice of words had a slightly mesmerising effect on Ayressa but then as a Bard she always enjoyed someone who has a way with words. It helped that he fell into her definition of handsome despite it not being the time for such thoughts.

‘How about you? How did you survive?’

‘Took control of the ship, landed it safely and saved the day,’ she replied without beat and ignoring huff of frustration behind her. ‘She’s just jealous she missed it as well.’

Gale peered over Ayressa’s shoulder, taking in the burning remains and chewed up landscape. ‘The vast, burning wreckage behind you somewhat contradicts your story,’ he replied with a gentle air of playfulness, ‘but here you stand, so who am I to argue.’

Ayressa couldn’t help the tug at her lips at the gentle humour.

‘Swashbuckling heroics aside, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy. Back on the ship you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.’

As he pointed to his eye, her unwelcome insertion squirmed, reminding her it was there, burrowing away, potentially changing her.

‘I couldn’t have put it more repellently myself,’ she remarked against a sense of rising nausea and desire to claw out her eye.

‘No use sugarcoating it, is there? This insertee we speak of, this parasite, are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into Mind Flayers?’

As she nodded, he continued, ‘it’s a process known as ceremorphousis and let me assure you, it is to be avoided.’

‘I think we’ve all established that much,’ Shadowheart drawled, crossing her arms with a clinking of metal clearly bored of the near monologue Gale was subjecting them too.

His attention turned on her for the first time. As he had done some with Ayressa, he looked her over, perhaps looking for signs of ceremorphousis. His eyes lit up a little. ‘You don’t happen to be a Cleric?’

‘You seem to know enough about our condition to realise it’s beyond most Cleric’s skills,’ she said gently.

‘Most, no doubt, but I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don’t happen to be one of them, do you?’

‘No,’ Shadowheart replied firmly.

‘And what about you?’ Returning his attention back to Ayressa. ‘Cleric? Doctor? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?’

‘Alien parasites are a little out of my usual skill set,’ Ayressa replied, ‘but if you scraped your knee when you fell? I’ve got you covered.’

A smile tilted on Gale’s lips with a soft huff of amusement. ‘As we’ve established, few enough can. It’s not exactly a common affliction. How about we lend one another a helping hand again and look for a healer together? A wizard is excellent company to keep when there could be danger around the next corner.’

‘Why not,’ she said, turning to Shadowheart. ‘We need all the help we can get.’

‘Most excellent, a parasite shared is a parasite halved, or something to that effect and before you think you’re embarking on a journey with ill mannered a man; thank you for pulling me out of that stone. It was an act of foresighted kindness, I assure you and I expect ample opportunity will reveal itself for me to return to the favour.’

‘Well good to have you with us, I’m Ayressa and this is Shadowheart. We need to good spot to camp. I don’t think I can go any further today.’

#gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #bard #shadowheart #gale x tav #Ayressa Aedihle #fanfic maybe #fanfic

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eridanidreams · 2 months

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Snippet Sunday

Tagging the usual suspects! Post if you got it, enjoy if you don't!

@bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand, wip chapter

Cait let out a soft sigh. "I try not to look that deeply. It's… intrusive. And even surface feelings can be hard to deal with if there's a lot of people around. Or if they're particularly strong personalities." Abruptly, she shoved herself out of the pilot's chair to stand below one of the massive windows. It really was a fantastic view. "Like pretty much everyone in Constellation."

Humor wreathed around Andreja's reply. "Ah. I begin to see why you spend your time out in the starfield." Cait chuckled wryly as Andreja took two steps to stand beside her. "I know that my beliefs are not yours, but if it is wisdom you seek, I shall offer you what I may."

"I… yes?" Cait said, wondering why Andreja seemed so hesitant about offering—and then she realized what the problem might be. "I don't mind you sharing your beliefs with me. I get touchy around Matteo because he won't stop." She let out a frustrated little breath. "I know he means well, but…"

"His enthusiasm can outweigh his consideration," Andreja agreed. "And I shall remember that." Cait kept her gaze on the vista before her, but she was still entirely aware of Andreja's appraising look. "Among my people, one such as you is cherished. 'Let he who hears the hearts of his people be your guide, for he is close to the heart of the Serpent. But ward him well, for only when heart and mind sing in harmony will he hear the truth of the universe.'" She fell silent for a few moments, letting Cait consider what she had said. "I think," she said, a quiet kindness hidden for only Cait to hear, "perhaps your heart and mind are not in such harmony."

Cait let out a long sigh. Harmony was the last word she would use—her mind she used as a wall against outside emotions; her own feelings had been co-opted to undermine her mind. Throw in the Artifacts and Towers, and some days she felt like the fictional martini: shaken and stirred. "Not so much, no."

"And yet, however marred your past, you are here and whole, a valued member of Constellation." Andreja's voice was cool and calm as ever, but an almost shy appreciation peeked between the words. "I have enjoyed the opportunity to travel with you."

"I—" Cait stammered a little, "—ah, likewise." She took a deep breath and turned her head to meet Andreja's eyes again. "Maybe, one day, you'll tell me a little more? Maybe see if you can teach me a little of that harmony."

The ship rang with the sound of the hatch closing. Andreja's eyes warmed almost imperceptibly, though her smile was more sensed than seen. "It would be my pleasure," she said quietly. "But Sam has returned, which undoubtedly means that Vladimir has provided another potential Temple location to investigate."

Cait gave Andreja a mock-scowl at the name. "Et tu, Brute?" Behind her, Sam's feet rang on the deck, Cora's laughter pealing after him.

"Sorry, darlin'," Sam chuckled as he took the stairs two at a time, "you're destined to lose that one." He gave Andreja a friendly smile. "Vlad sends his best, as usual. And if you'll excuse me," he pulled Cait back against him to press a quick kiss against her cheek. "Miss me?"

"You were all of thirty meters and an open hatch away," Cait said tartly. At his lugubrious look, she shook her head and smiled. "Yes, I missed you. Satisfied?"

"For the moment," he grinned. "You two plotting anything interesting up here?"

Cait wasn't quite sure how to answer that one, but Andreja didn't hesitate. "I believe the phrase you would use is… 'girl stuff'."

"Girl stuff," Sam said, eyeing both of them a little skeptically.

"We are 'girls', yes?" Andreja asked logically. "We are doing 'stuff'. Therefore, 'girl stuff'."

"Which, in your case, involves particle beams and edged weapons. Got it." Sam shook his head with another laugh. "All right. So who wants to know where we're going next?"

Cait slid back into the captain's seat. "Lay it on me," she said. Despite all the problems she was struggling with, his presence never failed to lift her spirits.

"Next stop, Altair."

Cait pulled up the starmap, pressing the button to confirm the course… and her breath was punched out by the sudden, absolute dread that seized her.

#sam coe #caitlyn lynch #starfield #fanfic #starfield fanfiction #eridani writes #coemancer #snippet sunday #the coemancer crew

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 10 months

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Hello!!! I hope you're well. I want to ask you if I'm the only one who thinks that Víctor wasn't his mom's priority... I don't want to upset anyone, but I feel like his mom abandoned him a bit when she went to Paris, and she didn't care much about what will happen with little Vic, as at one point we are even told "Although I don't understand why Mommy had to go so far to work as a teacher, she had been visibly grumpy for a while (...) But luckily, ever since she went to France, I've seen smiles on her face again." I feel like the lady prioritizes herself, and she won't care how much Victor needed her. Sorry for such a long comment LOL. And again, I know many revere the lady, and I don't want to offend anyone, I just want to know if anyone else saw this.

hello! I’ve been doing much better lately, thank you! hope you’re doing well too~ ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ಡ

there’s no need to walk on eggshells, haha. and to be very honest with you, no you’re not the only one. i’ve had similar conversations with other players both on global and CN before (even had one yesterday with @/thedummysdummy after seeing your ask), and have read the CN players’ different analyses on it before too.

if you want my personal take on the matter, it’s one of those moments as the omniscient audience, y'know? and precisely because we’re shown the entire picture, it becomes harder to decide whether you want to be rational about it or be driven by human emotions. but one thing I would say first, regardless of what went down, it’s a wonder that he was so mature beyond his years since childhood and grew up to be the wonderful man he is today, given that when you really think about it just how easily he could’ve grown up with traumas/ or some form of abandonment issues considering his childhood experiences and how deeply sentimental he is. to borrow MC’s words, the grand miracle indeed.

—

✦ regarding Victor’s mom and her moving to Paris permanently:

from Victor’s contents throughout the years, we know that Victor’s mom and dad would talk on the phone for hours on end (3rd birthday story), his dad would still call his mom’s number after she had passed away (4th birthday story, and just like how Victor used to as we found out in the Rooftop Date story), he would send her gifts and stuffs when little Victor went to visit his mom (Sea-circle event story) etc., indicating they had a good relationship. Victor’s mom had her ring on in his 3rd birthday card, which meant they were still together. And despite all this, you can feel that cord of dissonance between them— we never got any mentions of Victor’s dad visiting her, and Victor’s mom moving away from her beloved and child permanently like that really doesn’t sing harmony either. but then again, we can’t make any assumptions given that we don’t know what really went down between them.

another point to note, Victor had spent a good share of his early childhood in Èze, France at his maternal grandparents’ (S1 CH 37 R&S, Passing the Winter ASMR). Later on, his mom permanently moved to France when he was 7 years old (or rather moved back), and even her cemetery is in France. This makes you wonder if she never got over her homesickness/ adapted to this country? What exactly was her illness, especially since there’s no details on that end?

again, his mother loved him, like you expect a mother to love their kids, undoubtedly. But it’s the harsh reality when you have working parents, who also happen to have their own ambitions to chase after.

—

✦ and that brings us to how this affected little Victor:

y'know his maturity beyond his years is both a blessing and a curse. I can vouch for that from my personal experiences too, haha :> anyway,

« it’s a curse, because » when I was going through the sea-circle event you quoted from, all I could think about was just how deep his selflessness is rooted in. he was a 7 year old for god’s sake— but all he wanted was for his parents to be happy, no matter how much it pained him. and you know what happens as a result? people take you for granted. his parents loved him dearly, yes, but they were absent for most of his life.

he mastered the French cuisine when he was only 11-12 years old (S2 30-33 R&S), because his mom was already settled in Paris and his dad could never be home. he never told anyone about his Evol, never told anyone about the orphanage kidnapping incident and losing MC in that horrific situation. and he kept searching for her in however ways a little kid could without ever telling anyone, until he grew up and built his piller himself for more effective and thorough approach e.g., appointing a detective etc.

he learned stock market handlings when he was only 14 years old to earn for himself and bear his responsibilities (e.g., paying for Yan Yan and the kid), so that he could grow up fast. because he did not want to be a burden nor did he want to rely on anyone for what he wanted to do (4th birthday story).

human emotions are very fragile and delicate. once smashed, they are nearly impossible to piece together, just like broken shards. tbh, the gradual negligence and feeling of loneliness can leave scars even deeper than a traumatic event. wonder why he built that armor for himself and the writers emphasize how he’d have succumbed to that life of loneliness and solitude had it not been for MC stepping into his barren desert? and not to mention, his Evol itself is the biggest curse on him, paving the road to perpetual loneliness and solitude.

────

« it’s a blessing, because » again, what comes under the light here is just how mature he’s always been. you can see how despite his obvious disappointment, loneliness, pains — he never once let himself “feel”/ ponder the direction that he was being left behind. even when he felt too worn down to bear, he directed his thoughts to his parents’ happiness. and when you think about how throughout the years, we’ve seen him clinging onto every little shard of his mom he could find — you can see the budding of negative impacts were right there on the other side of the threshold, but he never allowed himself to cross that door. *points wildly at Winter World Victor and S2 CH 46 amnesia Victor*

as he grew up, he split his attention to different plates, kept himself busy and occupied to never allow that seed to be sprouted. he let himself be content and never expected anything more (flashbacks to his 5th birthday date).

and you see this coming into the surface in his relationship with MC— how despite his suffocating schedule with all the responsibilities he has— he still manages to rip out even a little bit of time for only MC, his most precious lover, out of his daily schedule and makes the effort to make every moment count, proves to her how he takes each of her words, however big and small, to heart and puts them into action.

ever wonder why “quality time” is one of his primary love languages? there’s your answer on a silver platter. (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

—

#ask #this became huge but i hope i was able to give you some form of answer? haha 💕#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #李泽言 #mr love queen's choice #mlqc

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dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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One day, after the events of the movie, Neytiri goes to visit her son in the spirit tree. She’s still so overcome with grief and goes as much as she can. Today, as she walks forward to find Neteyam, she hears strange music around her. She passes by the trees and comes to her son sitting across from a woman who looks so much like Spider that it cannot be mistaken who she is. The boy’s mother is a subject that hadn’t really come up in the haze of dealing with who his father was.

Paz Socorro is sitting in front of her son holding a strange stringed instrument (Jake will later tell her it is a guitar) and telling him how to beat some sticks on a rock in front of him, creating a beat for her to play to. They both try to sing different lyrics to a song never heard before. She clearly never learned how to speak Na’vi and Neytiri had kept her own children as far from the English language as possible, but the two understand each other just fine as they fill the forest around them with song and laughter.

Neytiri find herself filled with relief as well as sadness. Night after night she imagined her baby scared and alone as a lost soul. But here she sees that someone, another mother even, has come to care for her child in the ways she cannot anymore. She stands back and listens, as human and Na’vi exist together in harmony for a short time.

you are one cruel, genius, bastard.

imagine the next time she sees paz caring for her eldest son, she makes eye contact with the woman, and for a single second, she feels relief. neteyam will be just fine here, and he will be until she joins him, because a good, strong woman, is taking care of him.

plus, I think it would make it easier for her to come around to spider, knowing the good that resided in his mother, must be in him, so how could she hate him?

#paz socorro #neteyam sully #neytiri #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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mask131 · 2 years

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The evolution of Ophelia Addams (2)

Ophelia truly “started” for the 60s sitcom “The Addams Family”, that basically invented her from scratch. But she wasn’t yet “Ophelia Addams” - rather she was Ophelia Frump, older sister of Morticia (née Frump). And to highlight their sisterhood, their Yin-Yang relationship, Ophelia was played by none other than Carolyn Jones herself!

Ophelia was designed to be the complete opposite of Morticia. She is a “flower girl”, but not just in the hippie sense: she is a literal flower girl. Obsessed with flowers, always with a bouquet in her arms, she even has flowers on her head: a crown of daisies, or blooming flowers slipped in her hair. She is blond, and always dress in bright white. She is a happy and smiling woman that plays the harp gently ; always ready to laugh she is also an excellent cook of “traditional” (aka normal human) food. She doesn’t even like poisonous plants like henbane or nightshades, and scoffs at the sight of thorns: rather she only cares for buttercups, daisies and fresh weeds (she concedes that weeds are the most beautiful flowers in her eyes).

While this latter puts her as the “white sheep” of the Addams clan, originally it rather made her Granny Frump’s favorite daughter, much more preferred over the more “bizarre” and “uninteresting” Morticia. In fact, as we discover in the television series, originally Gomez was destined to marry Ophelia. It was an arranged marriage between Gomez’s mother and Granny Frump, and the old Granny couldn’t see a better bride than Ophelia. But Gomez rather liked the carnivorous plants, beheaded dolls and gothic charm of Morticia, which who he rather fell in love (and anyway he couldn’t stand Ophelia - plus he is allergic to flowers).

Mind you, despite her not fitting the morbid aesthetic of the Addamses, and her mother prefering her flowers over Morticia’s fried eyes of newt, Ophelia stays a Frump (aka almost-Addams), and thus a very bizarre, unusual, “kooky” character. Ophelia is weird and extravagant, but just in a different way than Morticia. Take the flowers on her head for example: they are not just placed there for looking good. They actually grow there! Her hair roots are the flowers’ roots, and when you pull one, she lifts her leg! Ophelia is also noted to be “athletic”, but by athletic understand extremely strong and unusually violent. She breaks dishes trying to wash them, when she wants someone to do something for her she literaly twists their arm, when she plays violin too passionately she ends up SAWING IT IN HALF with the bow... And she is also an expert at karate and judo. So much that she actually judo-flips most of the men she interacts with, either as a form of salutation, or in hope that it could solve whatever problem they have.

She can also sing quite well... but in the most bizarre ways. For example, she can sing a three-part harmony... all on her own. And produce a whole opera chorus with just her throat. Even singing different tones at the same time with the same voice!

Ophelia was named after the Shakespearian character of Ophelia, from “Hamlet”, THE Ophelia. Of course, the character had to be made of nods and references to the original namesake. On top of the flower obsession, while not exactly crazy, Ophelia is not always... “all-there”. She is both an emotive and superficial girl, a ditzy, scatter-brained girl, fickle and air-headed at the same time. She is the kind of girl that offers to play a game of hide-and-seek, but then tells people where she wants them to hide. She often says out-loud her thoughts or the things she expects people to say, and then sincerely believes they said it : she can have entires one-sided conversations. And, another big nod to Shakespeare, Ophelia is also obsessed with water. She cannot resist the attraction and beauty of a body of water, be it a lake, a puddle or a tub: she always has to jump in it. In fact, her mother says that if she likes to cook so much, it is because she wants to clean a lot of dishes: it gives her an opportunity to stay for a long time in presence of a sink filled with water.

The other thing Ophelia is known for is her rocky, unsteady love-life. She is a romantic roller-coaster, and the very opposite of Morticia who has a stable, faithful, passionate relationship with her only soulmate. In the first half of the series, Ophelia is seen as the one being fickle when it comes to love : while getting extremely pushy and excited about her arranged wedding with Gomez, she actually admits he has a lot of flaws she dislikes and the minute he says he is “unworthy” of her she completely agrees and elopes with Cousin Itt, her “knight in shining armor” (though it turns out to be a summer romance). A similar case happens later with her new fiancé, Horatio Bartholomew. He is a perfect man; dignified, beautiful, educated, a true gentleman AND the second richest man in the world. At first she head over heels for him and extremely displeased over the fact her mother dislikes him... but the moment she learns he hates yoga, she immediately ditches him and considers him “unworthy” of her love.

But then, in a latter half of the series, the tide turns and instead of her throwing men away, it is her that gets constantly jilted. She ends up abandoned by lovers and boyfriends as many as seven times a year, and while she still is a manic, over-enthusiastic, hyper-happy girl half of the time, the other half she becomes a crying, desperate wreck wailing about her misery and loneliness - and she can easily switches between the two moods on a whim. Ultimately however, she manages to get out of her tumultuous heart troubles by starting a career as an opera singer, thanks to her most unusual voice.

#the addams family #addams family #ophelia frump #ophelia #sitcom #60s #television series #carolyn jones

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soulntes · 1 year

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CON LA BRISA - PROLOGUE

[CON LA BRISA MASTERLIST]

her life, day by days on pandora have become far more peaceful and eywa's life returned to it's unimaginable bright of nature. there weren't any cold hearted demons around to ruin their home as she reshapes herself of the wounds she is healing.

the planet is truly a wonder in the eye of someone who wasn't born and raised into it's beauty, wanting it to be the first and last thing you see.

a place where your free riding in the wind with the ikran and enjoy what the place offers you in return to live your life to the fullest on the great mother's existence.

it holds the places of many species different from earth that she's particular with, there some similarities but it's far more dangerous and it's beauty so captivating that the forest pulls you to it.

you fall in love with her.

but the most thing dangerous thing about pandora.. is you may grow to love her too much.

the energy she gives to bring life into this world, they have to one day give it back and remember her gratitude of that life.

the day she arrived pandora, selena sully met someone who showed her the wonders of the forest with their lifestyle. soon enough she fell in love with him. the mighty omatikaya warrior.

for this woman, she found love at last. a love so tender and special that made her feel alive, helped her understand the sacred rituals and passages to embrace the mother completely. the day he accepted her and mated with her to become one.. she believes she had it all.

their years together were a true dream she ever thought of when she was on earth with no hope and so lost in a dull moment. they were very much in love, learning more about themselves nobody knew about as they smiled which filled the hearts of the people.

the thought of almost losing her love is imprinted in her at the state he was in, refusing of admitting he's dying. he fought hard for his life so he can live life the fullest with her. eywa gave them a chance.

then..

a family that grew after the war was over, between na'vi and sky people, when she adopted the orphan boy, spider, who was too young to go to earth but she took him in as her own despite who his father was. soon enough, she became pregnant with twins. then her fourth and last child.

her and her mate were beyond of happiness with more children. moments like these are treasured deeply within their hearts singing the song cords, telling each one their story from their birth.

throughout the years on pandora, a forever home, becomes this force you'd want to protect and live in harmony for the rest of your life.

date nights. they're something she introduced to her mate for some time alone without the children and fall in love again.

but happiness always comes to an end.

they began to head back home until a new star appeared.. it wasn't a star, it could only mean one thing.

sky people are returning.

and their destruction.

tragedy struck when the rockets landed, destroying everything it burned and animals scurrying with their lives to safety.

she realized that their home were far from safe so another rivalry comes and a new war rages upon them. a war that brings deaths and loss.

a year later..

alone. mourning. lost.

nothing.

she felt nothing.

all her love and joy left with him. he's with the ancestors now.

selena fought and fought until her time come to an end. staying alive and strong for her children were her only promise she will keep her mate's memory alive. she promised him.

of course every energy is borrowed until you have to give it. the great balance of life is the way of these people. for their memories and spirit of eywa's children to live in within her to visit when they desperately need it.

losing someone is painful but you gain another love when you open your heart to someone else.

as time ticks and the bond grows.. love will tell.

for someone to help heal.

TAGLIST

@vivangothic @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hrlzy @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @grimistangel @zoetrope1997

#tonowari #tonowari avatar #avatar tonowari #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar #navi oc #pandora #eywa #metkayina #omatikaya #blog post #avatar the way of water #atwow tonowari #jake sully #neytiri #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader #friends to lovers

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gaoau · 5 months

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Crush Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 740

next.

It happened during their high-school years. The day, the month, the weather—neither can remember such insignificant details. What matters is that it happened, that it brought them to their shared today. Had the situation been any different, had they been different people, had the universe not aligned for them, they wouldn't be holding each other during such a wonderful experience.

Rumor had it, back in the day, that [Surname] [Name] hated everyone around her. Those furrowed brows of hers, her constantly downturned lips, the poisonous glances she flung at anyone who dared look her way. She didn't like people, therefore people didn't like her. She roamed the school hallways as she skipped class, only to lock herself up in the music room when the bell announced a recess. Students knew not to bother the dubbed Wicked Witch when she sought company in her instruments.

Rumor had it, back in the day, that Miya Osamu had a secret crush. Such a secret it was, he refused with every nerve in his body to even reveal it to his dearest twin brother. He turned down confessions, ignored love letters in his locker, avoided his brother's offers for random double dates, all while doodling hearts and stars under an umbrella. He didn't speak of this one-sided, high-school love to anyone, and never would the slightest of accidental hints slip from his tongue. Students knew not to attempt a futile move on the famous twin.

Neither [Surname] [Name] nor Miya Osamu knew about one another. They brushed shoulders every once in a while during lunch or on their way back to class. Never a glance shared, never a formal greeting, never anything more than a faint touch as they walked by.

Although a secret back in the day, Osamu has no problem reminiscing about the events today, and doesn't leave out details he doesn't remember when explaining how and when it happened. [Name] chuckles and shakes her head, intently listening to her drunk husband retell a story he's told a billion times already.

"She hated me!" he exclaims, throwing his head back in roaring laughter. Everyone at the table already knows what comes next. They wait for his wife to deliver her line.

[Name] playfully slaps his forearm, and Osamu understands this as his cue to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She falls into his chest, giggling, "You skipped a few details, dear."

Wearing a face littered with bandages, Osamu climbed his way up the stairs to the third floor of the school building. His brother didn't fare any better, but admittedly, he had it worse cleaning the toilets all the way down on the first floor. Another day, another Miya fight that broke out, and both twins knew no better than to duke it out in the gym. Repercussions always came afterwards, but nothing they couldn't deal with.

This time around, however, Osamu didn't want to deal with this punishment. Cleaning empty club rooms on the third floor, all by himself, on top of a two-week ban from volleyball practice. It wasn't his fault Atsumu had eaten his last ruby chocolate pudding earlier that morning.

Fortunately, he'd known balance all his life. With every curse, came a blessing. At the end of the day, that blessing was the biggest one in his entire existence, even if back then it seemed merely an insignificant event.

From a seemingly unoccupied classroom, his ears picked up the ethereal sound of music. Notes and chords blending together in perfect harmony. A piece so wonderful, his brain became empty, a simple void meant to absorb the relaxation exuding from the sweetest melodies he'd ever heard. He failed to remember why his brows had been scrunched up, or why his muscles had been stiff, or why the blood boiled in his veins at the thought of his stupid brother.

When the artist behind the music began singing, adding lyrical beauty to a priceless masterpiece, Osamu understood why the universe had made Atsumu steal that goddamn pudding. He had always been meant to hear those otherworldly sounds, flowing into the atmosphere like rain watering fields of rice. A voice so utterly angelical, he fell in love upon hearing the first syllable it spoke. He sat with his back against the sliding doors and stayed to listen with closed eyes until the music faded into silence.

#Wicked Witch #Haikyuu #Miya Osamu #Miya Osamu x Reader #Osamu x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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aurora-daily · 1 year

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Though angelic pop anomaly Aurora hails from Norway, it can feel like she was beamed here from another planet, an alternate universe, or at the very least, another time. A superstar with an otherworldly aesthetic, a special bond with nature and millions of followers on Instagram, Aurora is so enigmatic, decoding her is an almost impossible task. Still, we cannot help but try

Aurora is sitting in her bedroom, drinking a dark liquid from an elaborate chalice. “This is cola, by the way, not wine,” she clarifies, giggling. The Norwegian artist’s signature viking-meets-anime haircut frames her angelic face, which fills my screen. Behind her, beaded vintage purses and a dramatic silver gown cascade from the wall. Also in frame: a cabinet full of teas and spices and a picture of what appears to be Mary and baby Jesus.

Aurora is six minutes late, which she is profoundly apologetic for. She had been on top of a mountain in the rain and had to blow-dry her trademark cut before meeting with me. “It’s such lovely weather today. Really small raindrops from the sky,” she says. It’s fortuitous that she likes the rain; Aurora, born Aurora Aksnes, lives in Bergen, the rainiest place on Earth. It also happens to be the birthplace of the majority of Norway’s musical talent – DJ-producers Kygo and Alan Walker, electronic duo Röyksopp, even groundbreaking composer Edvard Grieg all hail from the city.

But Aurora’s story begins on the west coast of Norway, in a village next to the Lysefjord, also known as the Fjord of Light. “A lot of nature, a lot of forest, and little people,” she says. “So I grew up quite sheltered.” A self-described introvert, Aurora spent more time as a child within her own imagination than she ever did in school. She did, however, find a great companion in nature, spending hours walking in the forests close to her home. “Nature, she belongs to all of us. And she offers so much tranquillity and peace and silence,” she says, noting that these days we tend to get “very affected by so many worthless things”. “Nature offers some peace. It doesn’t matter who you are when you’re in the forest.”

After coming across her older sister Miranda’s piano in the attic at just six years old, Aurora started writing music . As she explains it, it was her calling because she felt that she’d never heard a perfect song. At nine, she started to write lyrics in English, and at sixteen, after a video of her singing went viral online, she quit school, and went on her first tour. At 20, she released her debut album All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend, launching an international career. The record features the song “Runaway”, which, despite being six years old, has enjoyed a recent resurgence via TikTok. Today it has more than 500 million streams on Spotify.

This year, at 26, Aurora released her latest album, The Gods We Can Touch, to critical acclaim. While one would certainly identify Aurora as a pop star, she is hardly mainstream. Her music reflects her ethereal essence, somehow embodying the fjords and the mountains around which she grew up. Characterised by dreamy harmonies, her sound both transcends space and time and is rooted firmly in the modern internet pop landscape. Perhaps it ’s this dichotomy that allows her music to live both in the world of Disney’s Frozen II and in the popular video game Assassin’s Creed.

Though Aurora doesn’t recall much from her childhood, aside from “the things I was dreaming about and thinking about”, she does fondly remember her cat, Septimus. It’s the same name she’s given all of her pets – to her mind they’re all the same creature, reincarnated again and again. “To deal with pets dying, it was good for me. I was a sensitive little bean,” she says.

I reveal that I have a pet dog named Doggy, who is nearly 15 years old. As soon as I mention him, Aurora starts to cry, tapping into my impending heartbreak. These days she doesn’t have a pet herself – the lifestyle of an internationally touring pop star doesn’t suit animal companionship. She has, however, made a connection with a crow in the park next to her home. Aurora brings him shiny things, and he brings her gifts sometimes, too.

In addition to Septimus, Aurora also found companionship in her two older sisters, Viktoria and Miranda. She says they are among the few people who understand her, granting her the space and freedom to be herself. “I was very disconnected from people as a child,” she says. “I learned to love most people in my life when I grew up and understood what the essence of family is, and love, and coexisting. Because I was really overwhelmed by just learning to exist in myself as a human.”

Today, Aurora and her sisters are not only best friends, but close collaborators; Viktoria is a stylist and costume designer and Miranda is a hair and makeup artist. The sibling trio collaborated on our editorial. Later, I ask Viktoria over text message what it’s like to work with her superstar sister. “She knows when to leave it to me, and I know when to shut up and do what she wants even though it kills my pride or ego,” she says, adding that Aurora is a “very relaxed boss”. Even over text message, the sisterly bond is apparent – Viktoria signs off with a plant leaf emoji.

“I hate the fashion industry,” Aurora boldly declares when we start to discuss her eight-year long collaboration with Viktoria. “Fashion is important to me – it’s art, and it’s beautiful – but I hate the sad, hidden part of it. It’s so un-transparent and secretive.” Rather than wear items with a nebulous history, she prefers to ask Viktoria to make her clothes. Sometimes she explains her vision, sometimes they draw up designs together. “It’s very loose and free,” she says.

A conversation with Aurora can spontaneously divert to musings on space and time, philosophy, and the human condition. It strikes me that she could have become anything she wanted, but she says she quickly settled single-mindedly on music. “I understood the importance of music quite early, and I connected it in my mind with nature,” she says. “Music is a way to pool what nature is for our souls into something we can hold in our hands, and kind of shape it into something more comprehensible.” Aurora speaks of nature and music as if they are an extension of herself or a language that she speaks fluently. As the thoughts tumble out, the cogs in my mind shift as I try to keep up.

The music she was exposed to early – Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Enya – is a sanctuary for Aurora. These artists offer both a means to self-understanding and a portal for escape. “My brain has sometimes been a good thing and sometimes been a bad thing. It depends on what situation,” she says. “Since I became an artist, it’s always been my goal to offer the same kind of escape.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Aurora is not one to focus on the superficial or mundane. “It doesn’t matter if you get likes or if you’re one centimetre skinnier in your arms. Or if you have a pimple on your forehead. We know it doesn’t matter, but we still let it affect us so much,” she says (for the record, Aurora gets many likes – she has 2.3 million Instagram followers). Instead, she spends her free time studying big ideas: our perception of time, reincarnation and the meaning of life.

Aurora has a charming habit of pointing out concepts she doesn’t understand, as if she’s an alien observing human behaviour. Take, for instance, the way in which we tend to view our lives in a linear series of events - engagement, marriage, children. She chuckles and says that she doesn’t grasp any of it. “I always think of life as me being here, and then life just happens around me all the time and you’re in the middle of the now, which you always own. The now is always yours,” she says, gesturing her hands around her in a circular motion.

“Life is just all a round us, all the time. And we capture the right things sometimes, the right people and the right moments and opportunities.” She pauses to stare out her window towards the mountains, cloudy skies, and miniature raindrops she loves so much, adding, “Earth is my favourite place I’ve been in my life.”

[VOGUE SCANDINAVIA]

#submission #thank you so much for such a great submission wow #aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews

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