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hawnks · 3 years

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taking care

izuku midoriya x reader

r18 (mdni)

word count: 1,700

sometimes his work takes izuku away for long periods of time. but he’s more than willing (eager, hungry) to make it up to you when he’s home

[pro-hero deku, dom/sub undertones, “good girl”, overstim, smut & fluff, possessive and loving <3]

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Izuku dotes on you. It honestly gets ridiculous sometimes. He’s so willing to do anything to make your life easier, insisting on grabbing whatever you need from the other room so you don’t have to get up, opening doors, jars, coats, making sure everything you want is stocked in his apartment. He learned how to style hair so he could take care of it for you on the mornings after he fucked you silly wore you out. Once when you were out walking together he noticed your shoelace came untied and dropped to his haunches to redo it for you. The paparazzi had a field day with that one.

You’ve been teased to no end for your boyfriend’s absolute devotion. Not to the extent he has, of course (“Fucking whipped” Katsuki sneers. Izuku can only shrug, pay him a blithe smile in answer). Some may accuse you of being willfully co-dependent, but over the course of your relationship you’ve learned that the best way to make up for those days his job keeps him away is to indulge. Frequently, and deeply.

Izuku loves to take care of you. You love to be taken care of. Easy. Simple.

Easy and simple to wriggle closer to him in your shared bed, leg flexing gently between his. Easy and simple to press more and more of your weight into him until he wakes with a soft sigh.

Normally you’d feel bad about taking any sleep from him —- lord knows he needs it. But tomorrow is his day off, a full 24 hours where the two of you can laze around and do absolutely nothing. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem upset, meeting you halfway, pulling you on top of him with a gentle squeeze around your waist.

He noses at your temple. “Can’t sleep?”

The genuine concern in his voice is endearing. You sink further into his hold, smiling as he lets out a soft hum in return.

His fingers tease the hemline of your sleep shirt, his nails dragging gently against your skin. He murmurs, “What’s the matter, honey?”

If the hour was earlier, or if you were any less touch starved, you might have approached this differently. Basked in his concern. But all you can think about is the hands petting you so carefully, the firm thighs splitting your own. You snake a hand down, palm brushing his belly, right where you know that little line of hair leading to his groin begins.

He jolts. You would have slipped off him entirely if his grip hadn’t gone steely. His voice is a little deeper, a little less gentle when he says, “Oh?”

It’s been too long for him too, evidenced by the way he’s already starting to tent his pants. You nuzzle against his collar bone, hand creeping toward his burgeoning cock. You whisper, “Yeah.”

Still, his touch is tender when he raises a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “What do you need, baby?”

You turn your head, kiss the thumb that’s drawing slowly away. “Make me cum, Izuku.”

When you finally start to palm him, he just lays there for a minute, letting you explore. His hands tense on you intermittently, his breath hitching whenever you squeeze. Finally he tilts his body, letting you slide off with a hand on your back guiding you down, at the same time he slinks down your body.

Izuku has an almost cat-like grace to the way he moves, a fluidity earned through years of training. It had taken him a while to grow into his body, to understand the mechanics of it, but he knows exactly what he’s capable. Exactly how to use himself.

You barely register him slipping off your panties, raising a leg to prop on his shoulder. He presses a line of kisses to the crease of your thigh, sighing.

“Missed you,” he says.

You card a hand through his hair, scratch lightly at his scalp. “Missed you more.”

His kisses get bigger, wetter, as they trail toward your core. You buck when he finally gets to your pussy, sucking ever so slightly. You’re impatient, but it doesn’t matter. Izuku is mouthing at your clit, lips nibbling, and even that is enough to pull you into a small orgasm.

He doesn’t stop as you writhe, building up as you ride it out so you don’t even know when his touch got so firm, when his tongue started laving at your opening in smooth, slick glides. You twist, and his grip tightens. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you still. Enough to keep you steady for him to take what he wants.

“More?” he says, but it’s muffled by your skin—-he doesn’t give you a chance to answer.

Your second peak comes quick, just as the first is beginning to taper off and you can feel the full breadth of sensations returning. You’re so wet that it’s dripping onto the sheets, and Izuku isn’t helping as he gets sloppy now, mouth covering as much area as possible, soft and moist and warm. You’re almost frantic with the sensation, hips continually bucking against his hold, but Izuku still takes his time, licking up all he can, moaning anytime you squeeze around his tongue. All eager and hungry, all covetous.

You cum again, a whole body clench that makes you arch over his head, your legs squeezing his temples. The licks grow kittenish and gentle, easing you down. His fingers replace his mouth, a slow glide, hardly any pressure at all as he draws back, wipes his mouth off with his free wrist.

He just looks at you for a moment, gaze heavy on your face, your parted lips, your drawn brow. He looks at your heaving chest, your belly as it continues to tremble slightly. He lets out a soft sigh. He bites his lip. You can’t see him as well in the dark, but you know he must be blushing. You know his pupils are blown wide.

He kisses your navel, the underside of each breast. The hollow of your throat and the apple of each cheek.

“Good girl,” he says. He sounds like he’s just now waking up, deep and gravely. “Give me some more.”

He drops his head to nuzzle against your cheek as he lines up his cock. He nudges at your core a few times, just barely entering you before pulling out. You let out a long whine, but he doesn’t stop. Teasing and teasing you, his fingers still toying with your clit.

“ ‘Zuku,” you slur. You try to raise up to meet him, and he lets you, splitting yourself open an inch or two. But when your strength gives out again you’re back where you started.

You claw him, a little, so impatient and overwhelmed it’s pushing you toward hysteria. He sighs again in response, throwing his head back, eyes closed.

Finally he sinks in, pushing to the hilt in one steady thrust.

He gives you a second to adjust, but doesn’t stay still, hips rolling ever so slightly, the barest hint of a thrust.

Your hands find his hair, shorter now than it’s ever been, just enough to pull on. And you do, a soft pressure, just this side of painful. “Okay, Izuku,” you whisper.

The shift is immediate, the thrusts growing deeper, firmer. You feel them in your belly, a hot rush each time he’s all the way inside you. So full, so right.

Your next climax sneaks up on you. His fingers never stopped stroking your clit, and that combined with the steady weight of his cock is enough to bring you over.

Izuku watches you as you fall apart, face just inches away from yours, taking in every facet of your expression. You can feel his warm breath on the bridge of your nose, can hear the shallow huff of his breath.

His touch gets heavier, possessive. He grabs you by the shoulder, the hip, anywhere he can sink his fingers in, like he might lose you if he lets go. He alternates burying his face against your throat and pulling back to take in your fucked out expression.

You’re almost numb with the pleasure now. It’s hovering somewhere between pain and ecstasy, and you’re a breath away from tapping out when Izuku leans in, nibbles at the shell of your ear.

“One more,” he says. “Please. Baby.”

And you give it to him, as his touch on your clit turns to a pinch and he groans in your ear, his own peak hitting him.

All of your limbs tense, the pleasure-pain falling over you like a wave. So full. So right.

Your boyfriend is heavy on top of you when you come back to yourself. He’s petting your arms, cooing sweet nonsense words, pet names, praises.

He thanked you, after his first time finishing with you, the first ever night you spent in this bed. That was a little bit awkward, but sometimes you get the sense he wants to do it again, the gentle reverence in his voice, the way he touches you, greedy and exultant all at once.

When he rolls off, he brings you with him. Clingy, adjusting you so as much of your bare skin is against him as possible. Settled, he lets the two of you bask for a bit. In a few minutes he’ll insist on getting up to grab something to wipe you off with, maybe a change of sheets to replace the ones that are ruined beneath you. For now he plays with the hair at your nape, he strokes his knee up and down your inner thigh.

“Good?” he murmurs. Already smiling, because he knows the answer.

“Good,” you return.

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #deku x y/n #bnha x reader #this has been on my minds since the last deku drabble i wrote uwu #brainrot

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justmorerpmemes · 4 years

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Silently Serene Starters Nonverbal Edition

Send in one of the following to have my muse (or yours if you add + reverse)

[Comb] - Running their fingers through their hair.

[Lookout] - Watch them sleep for a little while.

[Cover] - Wrap them in a blanket or something else.

[Keeper] - Hold them close.

[Tend] - Take care of them in a weakened state.

[Nonsense] - Find them attempting something ridiculous.

[Take] - Borrow something of theirs, purposely or by accident.

[Laze] - Find them being carelessly relaxing.

[Repose] - Calm down in their presence.

[Lean] - Rest some part of them against the other.

[Embrace] - Give them physical affection.

[Chance] - Get to do something they normally couldn’t.

[Opportunity] - Show them something new.

[Expose] - Share something unknown with them.

[Partner] - Help them with a task.

[Worn] - Find them drained but still going.

[Blithe] - Find them feeling pleasant and carefree.

[Veiled] - Find them hiding, or hiding something.

[Soft] - Be gentle and comforting.

[Elude] - Avoid or diffuse a tense situation.

[Guard] - Be protective of them or in their defense.

[Ramble] - Talking about something not too important.

[Mind]- Find them thinking or lost in thought.

[Refresh] - Bring them food after a long day.

[Free] - Make one of your own!

#rp starters #nonverbal starters #nonverbal rp meme #rp meme starter #rp meme #peaceful starters #non verbal starter #non verbal meme

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ofrahmanis · 2 years

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for: @itsdelilahroche

where: sebastian’s office

sebastian took comfort in the STINT of quiet found between the exchange of clients — that of which volume had increased substantially since the exposé that seb had been so willfully exempt from. nonetheless, he felt a PROFOUND sense of empathy for those whom fell victim to the publicized event. slouched upon the comfortably worn material of his office chair, sebastian craned his neck, head rested upon the headrest. a short sigh gracing his lips, he'd allow himself to laze for a MOMENT longer before straightening his posture once more — digits sent combing through his tawny head of curls as he came forth.

a moment or so passed before the distant MUTTERING — which sebastian could have only made out to be someone being buzzed into the office — becomes audible. an EARSHOT that is closely followed by the blithe voice of the office's newly hired secretary, rebecca. unlike the rest of the staff, sebastian had made the effort to get to know her name, much less REMEMBER it. though a small step in getting her to feel more at home in the relatively sterile environment, it was one he was willing to take.

with a knock offered to the frosted pane of his office door, the secretary halted before opening it. ❝ dr. windt — your 12 o’clock. ❞ neglecting to spare another word, the secretary stepped aside and allowed the patient entry. sebastian was a man CONTENT with his job and thus, he was pleased whenever any of his regulars decided to schedule an appointment with him. but he knew that could only mean ONE of two things: either the wrongness in their lives had reared it’s head once more, or they could use the company. he chose to rely on the former in most cases. the man cannot help but to harbor his usually 'HAPPY TO SEE YOU, BUT WHY ARE YOU REALLY HERE’ look — lips tweaked upward at either corner accompanied by subtle eye contact. ❝ it’s been what . . a week or two since our last session ?? tell me, how have you been. ❞ the brunette rehomed himself behind the comfort of his mahogany desk, allowing the other to seat herself across from him.

#𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 —— interactions.#( ft. delilah )#no need to match length!!

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snowbellewells · 4 years

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Captain Swan Movie Marathon: “Carolina Moon”

Here is my second submission to the @captainswanmoviemarathon event!! This one is a modern au of the Nora Roberts tv movie (adapted from one of her novels) Carolina Moon. The main female character in the movie is psychic/clairvoyant (I’ll admit, I’m not too sure on the distinction between the two) and I thought her visions and what she goes through in connection to them made a nice real world parallel to Emma’s magic. (There’s also a scene in here where the male lead says something that I could so perfectly see Killian saying to Emma… I just cannot wait to get to that point!)

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this romantic thriller with some murder mystery elements. There are some instances of abuse and violence in here though - which I feel like I should mention, since that’s a little darker than my typical style. Most of them are in flashbacks of Emma’s past, or in visions she has of victims, more than in the actual present day plot, still I wanted to make people aware before we got too far.

Please enjoy! (I’d love to hear what you think.)

Chapter One

July 1993

The water at their hideaway always feels so good. She could sink into it until her head slips below the surface and never, ever want to come up for air. It’s cooler, more luxurious than even the rich, satiny sheets on the trundle bed those rare nights she gets to sleep over at Rose’s. Emma Swan’s gangly, 13-year-old limbs slice through the murky water as if the constant humidity and sultry air of Storybrooke, South Carolina can’t penetrate here in their little haven. She knows, of course, logically, that the real world isn’t all that far away. The shaded pond she and Rose discovered two summers ago is just a short trek into the woods at the furthest edge of Rose’s family’s boundless acres. Still, it feels removed enough to bring Emma a sense of peace and contentment she gains nowhere else.

Looking over her shoulder to the large, smooth boulder jutting up out of the pond at the bank where they left their flip flops and cutoff denim shorts, she can see her best friend stretched out with her new book where they had spread their towels on the rock’s surface, just in the wash of warming sunlight that streams through the tree branches overhead. Her friend’s flawlessly creamy pale skin is prone to burning, but at the moment Rose seems willing to take the risk for the benefit of lazing cozily to read as she dries in the sun after taking a quick dip. Shaking her head, Emma plunges back under, happy to stay in the chilly water a bit longer herself. She knew as soon as they’d met outside Rose’s house that afternoon and Rose had held the newest entry in her favorite mystery series in her hand that she wouldn’t be able to resist burrowing into those pages for long.

It’s funny, Emma supposes, but that’s exactly what bonded she and Rose in the first place. They might seem different on the surface, but in the end, neither of them quite fit with everyone else, and so they gravitate to each other, and have ever since Emma first arrived in Storybrooke as an eight-year-old orphan. They’re willing to give each other at least one other person who takes them as they are and with whom they won’t have to pretend. Emma doesn’t care if Rose wants to read quietly and tell her about the stories she’s already finished instead of picking out dresses for the next cotillion class or preening in front of the mirror to practice batting her eyelashes to charm boys or bragging to Emma about which ones she intends to kiss. Her sister Ruby, who shares the same thickly shining, burnished mahogany hair and pretty pink lips but little of her fraternal twin’s calming, gentle personality, does enough of that for the both of them. Their mother, a former debutante and southern belle, delights in the one daughter’s traditional coquettishness, and despairs of the other’s shyness, a true throwback to another time who wants nothing more than to see both daughters marry well and retain their places atop the social ladder. In turn, Rose doesn’t mock Emma for her thick, dark-framed glasses or secondhand clothes, nor does she cringe away from the “fits” that sometimes take hold of her friend, making strange, disturbing scenes Emma can’t understand flash across her mind with such intensity they sometimes knock her off her feet. Emma knows Rose’s mother and sister find her an unsuitable and embarrassing companion for Rose, but she is eternally grateful her friend seems able to see the best in anyone - even a lost girl nobody else wants - and so blithely acts as though she has no idea of the rest of her family’s opinions.

Cringing even while still submerged in the pond’s depths and practically invisible, Emma tries not to think of her unwanted visions. Her strict, hypocritical, and more than a bit deranged foster father claims she’s possessed - and more than once has taken her episodes out on her hide. The man swears he’s beating the devil out of her and putting the fear of God in Satan’s place when he takes the thick leather strap to her shoulders, back and legs until she bleeds, but Emma has already lived long enough in a cruel and unfair world to know that his violence and “discipline” have less to do with parenting and concern for her soul, and more to show for his own twisted mind and overindulgence in the bottle. She wants to hide her spells from him, but when they come on her so abruptly and with such power, they are impossible to miss. She can’t fathom how a person like him was deemed fit to take in and care for a child, but it seems to be her lot, and so she simply grits her teeth and survives.

It’s different when the spells happen around Rose; the slight brunette merely rests a cool, steadying hand on Emma’s forehead or her arm until it passes, helps Emma stand until she feels in control again, listens as she attempts to make sense of whatever she’s seen, and most importantly… believes her. If only she could stay in the huge house Rose’s family calls home. She’d cook, clean, do chores, and stay in the servant’s quarters, Emma isn’t picky. It would still be a far sight safer than the situation she had in the rundown shack with the monster who’d been deemed her caretaker. Barring that, she would honestly rather live wild in these woods and survive off the land. She knew which plants and berries were safe to eat, Graham, her friend and a fellow orphan now happily adopted, had taught her how to fish; it wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get by, and at least no one would lay a hand on her again.

This afternoon, those eerie images she sometimes had seem far away as she splashes up out of the water, trying to arc playfully like a mermaid as she breaks the surface. Drawing in a big gulp of air after staying underwater so long, Emma startles at the sound of teasing laughter, and whirls to see three figures on the bank where she and Rose left their shoes and shorts.

“Well, look here,” calls out a taunting voice that never fails to set Emma’s nerves on edge. “It’s the baby beached librarian and her drowned rat friend!” none other than Emma’s nemesis Killian Jones crows from his vantage point on dry land.

Rose sits up ramrod straight, book still in hand and annoyed scowl on her face at the quiet of their sanctuary being interrupted. She isn’t genuinely angry, though; for all that she and her sister shared little in common, she and her two years older brother are affectionately close. “Shut up, Killy!” she shoots back, throwing in the childhood nickname they all know he hates. “Who asked you to come looking anyway?”

The boy standing next to Killian speaks up next, making Emma scowl just as playfully as Rose had moments before. Graham Hunter might as well be her big brother; he’s the closest thing she’d had to family since her parents were lost in a car crash and she was thrown into the foster care system. Be that as it may, he and Killian Jones are thick as thieves, and he’ll give her a hard time for all he’s worth in while in the presence of his buddy. “We just wanted to swim,” he calls across the water to the two girls, smirking at Emma, now standing in the water with one hip jutting out and hands planted on her waist. “How were we supposed to know you two were infesting it?”

“Ha!” Emma jeers back, the affront plain in her voice; despite the fact that the entire routine is like a practiced girls-versus-boys exchange they’ve all engaged in countless times. There isn’t much else to do for entertainment in their sleepy little one-horse town. “You idiots know this is Rose and I’s hideaway, fair and square!”

“Well, Rose’s anyway,” a third voice cuts in snidely.

The cruel jab reminds Emma once more that she is just a charity case, quite possibly only included in anything at all because of her friend’s kind heart, and causes her gaze to cut sharply to the third member of the boys’ little crew, hanging back slightly in the shadows behind Killian and Graham as he always does. Her green eyes narrow to slits in genuine dislike and suspicion. Where before her animosity was largely for show, when they land on Walsh Ozman it is all too real.

She has never understood why the other two boys - jokers and annoyances though they may be, but good guys when it comes right down to it - hang out with Walsh at all. Where Graham and Killian are much more cut from the same cloth - athletic, outgoing, well-liked and pleasant - Walsh is a splindy, sniveling character, complaining and whining whatever their little trio gets up to. He lives not far from Emma’s foster father’s cabin with his single mother - a bushy-haired redhead who seems strangely overprotective and attached to her only child. Most people give the property a wide berth, except when high schoolers teepee it the whole month of October, and the general town consensus is that Zelena Ozman might be a witch and to steer clear. Still, beyond all of that, Emma might have been able to look past the boy’s circumstances and see him for himself - she of all people knew the gift it was not to be judged by where a person came from - if Walsh hadn’t simply given her “the willies”. Even standing too close to him made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end - and not in the way that nearness to Killian sometimes did; an altogether much more pleasant tingle, even if she was just as unable to explain one as the other.

“We could just take their things,” Walsh suggests, holding up the threadbare, faded jeans Emma had left on the bank. “Make them walk back in their skivvies.” The wicked smile on his face makes Emma’s stomach turn over sickly.

Something sharp flashes in Jones’ eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly and his head giving a subtle shake of dissent that Emma can see even at the distance she stands away from him. Protectiveness, chivalry, or maybe the honor of a southern gentleman passed down to him through generations of his impressive family line, whatever it is, it sparks to life in his eyes at that moment as he quashes Walsh’s mean-spirited suggestion in no uncertain terms. “That’s my little sister you’re talking about Oz,” he growls, smacking the worn material from the smaller’s boy’s hands, even if the article of clothing isn’t Rose’s at all.

Emma feels her breath rush back into her lungs, though she continues to watch the guys warily for whatever they might do or say next. Before long, they grow bored of standing around and move on, hollering out age old taunts of “Bye, losers” and “Hey, smell ya later” to Emma’s derisive snort and Rose completely ignoring them to flip open her book again.

However, even with the intruders gone, it seems as if the perfect comfort of their retreat has been shattered by the unsettling interruption. Soon, Emma wades to the shore and Rose clambers down from her perch, to dress once more and return to the world outside. For a moment, as she refastens her jeans around her skinny waist, Emma feels a strange prickling along the fine hairs on her arms… like they’re being watched. She jerks around, searching the surrounding trees and brush, but can’t see or hear a thing.

Rose’s small hand takes hers, snapping Emma out of the moment. “What is it?” she whispers, only true caring in her voice. “Did you sense something?”

Emma nods, but can’t give her suspicions voice. Usually her vision are clearer than that - this had just been heavy breathing and like looking at herself and Rose through another person’s eyes, outside her own body.

Rose stooped to grab the little canvas bag she’d bought along with water bottles, towels, and a second book in it. “Hey, don’t worry, okay?” she offers, hopeful and kind as always. “You’ll figure it out. Wanna meet back out here tonight? Secret Sister bonfire?” she winks mischeivously. “I have to get to dinner now. You know how Mama hates it if I’m not washed up and properly attired for the evening meal - or a second late. But we can talk some more then, maybe you’ll remember more and it will be clearer.”

Emma nods gamely. “The stars’ll be beautiful by midnight,” she suggests. “And we’ll definitely have the place all to ourselves.”

“Since we were so rudely interrupted,” Rose chimes in with a giggle and roll of her eyes.

“Shake on it, pinkie swear,” they say together in practiced unison, executing a complex handshake that ends with their pinkies hooked together and wide, matching grins on both their faces.

“Thanks Rose,” Emma whispers sincerely, trying to speak around the lump in her throat as if it’s no big deal. “I’ll be out here as soon as I can sneak away.”

Rose, for her part, wraps her taller, golden-haired friend into a tight, momentary hug. “Hey, we’re Secret Sisters! You can count on me. I’ll see you then!”

They part ways at the edge of the forest, Emma heading to the rundown cabin that serves as her nightmarish version of a home and Rose to the pristine, Jones mansion standing tall over all the surrounding land. Rose looks back over her shoulder with a smile and wave that bolsters Emma, and the memory fades back into the haze of the past…

Eighteen years later….

September 2011

The blaring of the horn as a sports car whizzed by, barely missing the nose of Emma’s beat-up yellow VW where it had begun to edge out into the country intersection jarred her back to the present with a gasp and painful jolt to her chest. Panting for a moment as she gripped the steering wheel, Emma tried to clear her head and calm the pounding of her heart at the near-miss.

‘Get it together,’ she berated herself. It might have seemed like only yesterday as she remembered that sunny afternoon at the swimming hole, but that day had been nearly two decades ago. She was a grown woman, had made a way for herself, fighting tooth and nail for every step forward, and she answered to no one. She had learned to stand up for herself, to control her visions and use them for good, and was a special consultant for the NYPD. But, more than all of that, she had come back to this place to find peace, to lay to rest the ghosts that followed her everywhere else she’d gone in the years between, once and for all. If she expected other to leave the past in the past, she’d first have to manage it herself.

She’d had no way to know as she and Rose parted that afternoon with promises and plans for later that it would be the last time she would ever see her friend. Emma had harbored the pain and the guilt and the unanswered questions ever since. Finally, it was time to meet the gazes of all of those who’d stared at her in suspicion before she’d been packed up and moved away once more, and it was time she found answers. She wasn’t the scared, whipped, mistreated adolescent she had been at 13. What she had lived through then wasn’t her fault, nor was what had happened to Rose that muggy July midnight.

And if she had to return to Storybrooke, South Carolina to lay that burden down… well, it was long past time she did.

Tagging: @captainswanmoviemarathon @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @lassluna @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @therooksshiningknight @thejollyroger-writer @artistic-writer @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @tiganasummertree @xsajax @spartanguard @laschatzi

#captain swan movie marathon #cs ff #cs au #carolina moon #chapter one #cs mc

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aliceslantern · 3 years

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Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 14

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Ienzo and Riku continue to pass the time together. Ienzo realizes something about their relationship.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

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The next few days settled into a mostly peaceful rhythm. Riku showed him more of the island sights; they spent most of a full day with Kairi shopping in the bazaar. Ienzo met a few more of Riku’s other friends as well, and like his parents, they were somewhat mystified by his “alien” presence. Already Even had messaged him asking him when he would be done “lazing about” and when he could be expected back, but Ienzo hadn’t responded. He didn’t want to think about Radiant Garden right now.

He knew at some point he’d have to tell Riku the whole ugly truth of his past, and while he knew Riku was unlikely to vilify him for it, he nonetheless wasn’t looking forward to it. He was content in their soft, sweet bubble, in this reality that they were just a normal couple.

They made out often and tried touching each other several more times, and each time Ienzo would draw so awfully close to just coming already. Riku tried doing it a few different ways, but it really did seem to be his mind stopping it all from… functioning. Ienzo wondered if at some point he’d just get so pent up his body would win the fight. He hoped it would happen soon; all of these hours spent getting hot and bothered and going nowhere was practically making him ache.

Riku said that day was “cooler”, so they would go to this mysterious falls at last. “It’s a hike, but an easy one,” he told Ienzo. They took the bus (which itself was a fascinating and strangely nostalgic experience; he couldn’t be sure if he had vague memories of taking a streetcar with Even) to the trailhead, and when Ienzo looked up at the incline he almost balked. At least this all seemed to be shaded by trees. This might be easy for Riku, who was physically fit and had probably gone through far harder on his journeys.

But Ienzo was a sedentary researcher.

Noticing his trepidation, Riku squeezed his hand. “I promise the first part’s the hardest, and then it all gets really gradual. It’s worth it, I swear.”

“It better be. You may be carrying me out on a stretcher.”

True to form, the first incline was utterly nightmarish. Between the humid air and his general softness, Ienzo was struggling to breathe, and he felt like a quitter every time he had to ask for a break. There was not a part of him that wasn’t sweaty, and he found himself glad he’d actually bought a pair of decent climbing shoes like Riku had advised. He actually felt dizzy. At the top, he had to sit and rest against a rock. Riku didn’t even look out of breath. “You okay?” he asked, cautiously.

“I’m alive,” Ienzo said, still gasping. “Barely.” Once he had caught some semblance of breath, and drank down some water, they kept going. It was easier, but not as easy as he’d hoped, and he found it hard to appreciate the wildlife. Ienzo tried to push through the pain. At first he thought the noise he heard came from his heart throbbing in his ears, but it turned out to be the falls. At last, at long last, they reached the peak.

And Ienzo understood. “Oh,” he said, softly.

“It’s thought that the islands formed out of the magma from volcanic explosions,” Riku said, in a low voice. “That volcano is right there. But over time… and I’m sure you understand the science of it better than I do, the volcano became a spring.”

“Oh,” Ienzo said, utterly losing eloquence. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he was hot and sweaty and nauseous and his legs would be aching for days.

He’d seen a lot in his days as Zexion. But again, he’d never been there to be a tourist, to appreciate the worlds he was trying to strike down.

There were crystal and mineral patterns in the falls caldron all the way down, in at least a dozen colors, glimmering faintly in the diffuse sunlight. The freshwater flowed from the top, almost deafeningly loud, to a large pool at the bottom, the water a slight bluish color from the minerals. Ienzo could see a manmade path weaving all the way down, a wooden safety rail lining it. The water washed up onto a shore of black sand.

Riku took out his phone. “Want a picture of you with it?”

“I’m sure I look awful.”

“You look like you’ve conquered something.”

Ienzo rolled his eyes. “Only if you’ll join me.”

It took a bit of fineagaling to get an image that was halfway decent. This settled, they started making their way down. “Weird, normally this place is packed,” Riku said. Only a few people were down swimming in the caldron. “Oh well. I won’t question it.”

“It’s the semifinals,” Ienzo said. “Your father was talking about it.”

He laughed. “Design by accident.”

The walk down was fairly easy, but Ienzo dreaded the climb up, then down again. He’d worn his bathing suit, at least. They had a quick, simple lunch. At least here by the water it was mercifully cool, and Ienzo nearly moaned aloud when they finally eased in. Considering it was springwater, it was cold, but a welcome cold. The water had a slightly metallic tang against his lips.

“Worth it after all?” Riku asked, smirking.

“God, yes.”

They floated here a while, just enjoying the water and each other’s company. Eventually Ienzo felt brave enough to explore by the falls, where the water got deeper. The mist threw up so much light that the bands of rock glimmered.

At some point they had to leave, though, and by that point with the hike up and the swimming Ienzo was exhausted. Considering aside from the climb out of the caldron it was all basically downhill, Ienzo hoped this would be easier.

It wasn’t. This side of the trail was less shaded, for example, and the heat felt all the more brutal now that he was reasonably cool. His calves were starting to cramp, his nausea had returned, and now on top of it he was starting to feel weirdly faint, trying to figure out why.

“Ienzo?” Riku prompted, but his voice sounded like it was underwater.

The next thing he was aware of, his head was in Riku’s lap and there was a cold cloth over his face. Riku was on the phone, his voice shaky. “Yeah, dad, the trailhead. No, I don’t think I need any help. Thanks a bunch.”

He blinked and tried to sit up, feeling weaker still.

“Easy. Easy. I thought the stretcher thing was a joke.”

“It was,” Ienzo said. “I’m sorry. I’m fine now.”

“No, you’re not,” Riku said, sternly. “You’ve got heat exhaustion. If you keep pushing it it’ll get worse. Drink this.” He handed him a bottle of water. “You’re probably dehydrated too.” He dabbed the sweat off of Ienzo’s face.

Ienzo did, realizing how thirsty he was. “I tried to be careful.”

“No, it’s my fault. The island heat really is brutal, and you’re not used to exercise like that.” He sighed. “Even if you were careful your body still got overwhelmed.”

“And not in the way I’d like,” he muttered.

“Gather your strength for a few minutes. I used Cure on you, but you should still take it easy. My dad’ll drive us back. I wonder if we should take you to a doctor--”

Ienzo felt mortified. “I don’t think that’s necessary. The bus is fine.”

“I don’t want us to wait out in the heat more than we have to.”

Ienzo exhaled. Somehow this felt like another thing he had failed at.

“Really, Ienzo, this even happens to islanders,” Riku tried to reassure him. “I should’ve known better.”

“At least we got a pretty picture out of it.”

When he was finally strong enough to carry on, it felt late. They weren’t all that far from the road at this point. Riku had wanted to carry him, but Ienzo drew the line there. He was more grateful than he wanted to let on that Matsuda was waiting for them.

“Hey, you’re a true islander now,” his father said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s happened to all of us at some point or another.”

“I told you,” Riku said.

Ienzo wished he could enjoy riding in a car more. It was smaller, lower to the ground, than the bus, and much cooler inside. “Thanks for this. I’m sorry to interrupt your workday.”

“Ah, I had to run an errand anyway,” he said blithely. “You don’t think we need to go to the--”

“No, no, please, I’ll be alright,” Ienzo said quickly.

Ienzo was still feeling a bit dizzy. He had to cling to the banister to get up the stairs. Riku insisted he lie down. His skin felt hot, strangely enough. Riku tugged the curtains shut. He heard Riku leave the room and then come back a few moments later with something pink in a mason jar. “Here. This’ll help. Mom’s recipe. It happens all the time to the neighborhood kids.”

Ienzo sipped. He tasted more coconut, some other fruit, and below it all the oily slickness of potion. “I’m so sorry. I ruined the day.”

“No, this is on me. I should’ve known you’d push yourself and not say anything, cause I would’ve done the same thing.” He sighed. “Drink it all. I’ll get you more.”

The juice helped, though he didn’t feel good by any stretch. He wanted to get changed, to get cleaned up, but he just felt weak and exhausted. “If you’re tired, rest,” Riku told him.

“If you’d rather go do something while I’m just lying here--”

“No,” he said, firmly.

After two jars of the juice, Ienzo fell asleep, and wondered if it was something in the medicine. When he woke at last, he realized it had been hours, and the early morning sun was peeking out between the curtains. Dazedly, he looked around for Riku, found him nowhere.

Groggy, he took a shower and went to take the mason jar back to the main house. True to form, it hurt to walk, and he winced.

“Oh, Ienzo, how are you feeling?” Mariko asked, startling him.

“Much better,” he said. “Thank you for this.”

“I always keep a pitcher of it in the fridge in summer. Sometimes I swear the weather is only getting hotter.” She sighed.

“Where’s Riku?”

“Well, he came down a little while ago asking if I thought you needed anything else. I said maybe something nice for breakfast.” She smiled a little. “He should be back soon. Can I get you anything? Anything at all? You know what, I’ll go make some coffee.” She flounced off into the kitchen, her loose shawl fluttering behind her.

Ienzo found himself again looking at the photos on the mantle. Riku’s parents’ wedding day, photos of a younger Riku in school. Matsuda holding up a large fish, his son grinning toothily, the front two missing.

“...Here you are, dear,” Mariko said.

“Thank you so much,” he said.

“Why don’t we go sit on the patio while we wait? You can see the ocean.”

He followed her. The temperature, for some reason, felt much more bearable, despite the hot coffee. They sat on a pair of wicker chairs facing the small yard.

“Alright?” she asked him.

“I was just thinking it’s no longer so warm.”

She chortled. “That’s not true. You’re just forming a callus.”

“To the heat, you mean?”

“Yes. I thought this might happen. Riku was in a panic, Matsuda wanted to take you to the clinic. I’ve seen this before and I said you’ll be right as rain. And you lived, right?”

Ienzo sipped. “Thank god for that,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Well. It has been nearly two weeks.”

“Already? The time is flying.” He almost said that if he were too much of a burden he would be happy to go stay elsewhere, but then he remembered that Mariko would find this rude. “Is there anything I can do to thank you for the welcome you’ve given me?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I insist.”

She thought about it. “How about you make us one of your dinners, from your world? You explained, but I’m dying to know.”

Ienzo smiled. “That I can do.”

They both looked out at the ocean for a few minutes. Finally, Mariko said, “You’ve had a hard life, haven’t you?”

Ienzo looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

“You… and Riku. There’s a certain… darkness, in your eyes. Something a little haunted. At first, with him, I thought it was teenage angst. But I think he’s gone through a lot more than he lets on. You too.”

Ienzo blinked. “I suppose that is true,” he said. “This… beautiful life, the three of you live here. That all feels so abnormal to me.”

She nodded sadly.

“I’m… an orphan,” he admitted. “My adoptive family, well meaning as they initially were, did not raise me to live an average, happy life. It’s making me realize what I’ve missed.”

“I see,” she said. “Well. You’re always welcome in our family.”

Ienzo felt a sudden wave of teariness. “That’s very kind of you.”

After another moment, “you love him, don’t you?”

Ienzo took a quick breath. “I think so.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand once. “You’re good for each other.”

The back door opened. Riku was carrying a paper bag and a drinks carrier with what looked like smoothies. “Oh… Ienzo. You’re up. How do you feel?”

He looked at him. In the early morning sunlight, his silver hair carelessly braided over one shoulder, Ienzo knew. “Better. Much better.”

#give/take #ienzoku #ienzo/riku #ienzo is trans

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snowkingdomchennai-blog · 4 years

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Best places to visit in Mumbai

Mumbai, the city of dreams! Surrounded by jam-packed railway platforms to the famous multi-millionaire,suburban slums,dazzling Bollywood and famous items like vada pav, bhel puri, and sev puri.If you are planning a trip to Mumbai,We have listed down some of the amazing places visit in Mumbai, which will make you fall in love again and again.

Snow kingdom:

Snow park in Mumbai provides the ideal respite from the heat, temperature and noise of the region. This fabulous attraction is your escape to the snowy landscapes of Switzerland minus the actual traveling.

Snow World Mumbai offers customized packages and unparalleled experience to suit the unique purpose and convenience of every visitor. Will it be for a fun research trip or a leisurely company visit or special opportunities., experience a world filled with the one element that Mumbai lacks.

The Snow Kingdom is a must-visit attraction that promises a single mark, offering exciting snow rides and the space to experience the winter in a real way. For the family as a whole! So what do you expect? Just beat the heat. Beat the heat. Take a look now!

ELEPHANT CAVES:

Elephanta Caves are a collection of rock-cut art and architecture dated from the medieval era of India, a UNESCO World Heritage site. The caves are situated on the island of Elefanta or Gharapuri, 11 km far from the town of Mumbai. The Elephanta Caves, native to Gharapurichi Leni, today are remnants of works of art once rendered in detail. It also offers a wonderful view of the skyline of Mumbai. The Elephanta Caves can be accessed by ferry from the Indian Gateway. This collection of temples in the cave dates from the 5th to the 7th centuries, most of which are Lord Shiva's.

Girgaum Chowpatty:

The beach is located in the South of Mumbai along the West Railway Road and is popularly known as Chowpatty. A popular place to hang out is this tiny sandy beach and it is a must for all visitors who first explore marine trails.

The beach seems like a fun show in the summer. Kids of all ages have a hurry to ride the Ferris wheel and joysticks, while adults have a fun street snack in the area. Visitors also visit local parks and markets to make the most of the day. It's never empty or deserted this beach. One of the other people will always be here lazing on the beach; or kids lost in their environment constructing the sandcastles blithely along the coast. All in all, the Girgaum Chowpatty offers a lot of entertainment, freshness, and fun, and spends a couple of hours here to free oneself from the normally claustrophobic city

Bandra Worli Sea Link

This eight-lane cable-patient bridge in Mumbai is the first initiative to be initiated by the Government of Maharashtra to implement the West Island freeway system. Officially known as Rajiv Gandhi Sea Bridge. One of the few bridges to carry the Bandra Worli Sea Bridge, a cable of cement-stressed viaducts. This sea bridge, extending across the coastal arch of Mumbai, represents a civil technology achievement that illustrates Mumbai City's modern infrastructure. The bridge can carry over 37,500 vehicles a day while rising by a large margin the time span between Bandra and Worli. In its engineering genius, the Quality of the Bandra Worli Sea Connection compliments the sea that is built over

Mahalaxmi Temple:

The Temple of Mahalaxmi is one of Mumbai's oldest temples. It's dedicated to Goddess Mahalaxmi or the Goddess of wealth on the Bhulabai Desai Avenue, in Mahalaxmi West. The temple was built around the XVIth-XVIIth centuries, and Goddess Laxmi is the principal presiding goddess, while Goddess Kali and Saraswati worship two other gods here. The Mahalaxmi, Mahakali and Mahasaraswati are commonly known to three idols The Temple is the place to visit should you visit Mumbai to be thronged with many devotees and visitors throughout the year.

#snow park in mumbai #best snow park in mumbai

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au-mashup-party · 5 months

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Merry Xmas!!!

Micro by me

Himeros by @nova2cosmos

Blithe by me and nova

CPAU originally by @loverofpiggies

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w1737087 · 3 years

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[Gallery piece 9- Patron of Anarchy]

Patron of anarchy is a photograph I took of my first assigned desk 2019 October. It hints at my loosened morals and development into a next chapter of what I become. It’s come to mainly represent the days I fell into the search for a taste of real life.

See I was still a beginner in my lane of freedom that nobody understood how unseriously fundamental it was for me to go through a prolonged state of fuckery (lawlessness). For the days I had attended I would find myself with plenty of ideas to work from but harnessed all inside my head. I couldn’t find the means to start or know where to begin. You could imagine the difficulty of this nature. So I let days go by as I tended to nothing but the mental aches and troubles of being inside my head and dealing with whoever the hell I was that period of my life. I wasn’t much for an over thinker ever really but I was still suckered into remnants of melancholy that lasted that whole year over what I couldn’t exactly specify and I guess i had to do nothing but wait it out and think on myself a lot and how often I was doing nothing at my desk with all my empty books and inked pens.

The persistent feeling of being in and out place and not belonging followed me around more than I could bother to put up with. That’s a type of discomfort you couldn’t tend to in the right ways. I couldn’t settle down. I felt jumpy and tranquil all at once. Even so when round the clock I was bombarded by disorganised excerpts and loose words hanging for dear life on the tip of my toiled mind. Which was itself filled with the growing fear of aging and voids within me that widened by the mere fact of still accomplishing nothing with this life of mine, daunting me; haggling me to begin already. My seratonin levels hung down low due to this personal rush I entangled myself in and later predominately evaluated, the job I was working straining me of all blithe. A month prior those categorised as friends had surprisingly cut the thread holding us together which I was both mad and heavily relieved about too but altogether at this point of the year I was the one in this prolonged mess; heaved far away from me, very damaged and sulking in a clustered vessel of self ushered issues and frequently low emotions. I felt like clammy hands, stuck in mud and out of place. Like that Katy perry lyric in firework. Just discomfort in all parts of life, THERE. This place provided some endearing comfort like I dreamed it would. I found gradual solace whenever I’d come. Soon the freedom away from home gave me the chance to be someone only I would come to know existed since making friends was and wasn’t on the agenda it didn’t occur much. No one in existence was keeping up with me and The age of living was about to begin.

Semester attitude (out and ins of uni life):

I was alone much of the time lacking in productivity. I simply could do because I couldn’t enforce the energy to focus. I found myself in the contrary of any agenda I set any morning I’d wake and I was dreading the truth before me of accomplishing fuck all by squandering all this potential I had as time did a runner. I carried on however as our imperial universe that guides us all one by one toward our inevitable end decided to assign the free-flow-fuckery phase to me. When results of chance and spontaneity led me to inaugurate foolish behaviour of roaming under no rules or limitations to keep myself at bay I did things to only feed the mind and soul. (Level upgrade). Soon I was unknowingly falling into a new and improved version of myself I guess I couldn’t wait to meet. Flawed as hell but new. I reacquainted with a friend in me when I sat to drink spirits alone and inhaled mixed herbs among a companion or two in the grounds of my new fortress. Joy enamoured me a little more than when I was sober like the so called toxin was a remedy but poison. I was getting better. Things were happening for good reasons and I was rid of people unhealthy for me which induced my realisation in the fact that people failed to suffice in positions of companionship unlike my own wonders with myself. People seemed to take me away from me and i had the time to reflect and realise not to keep falling into people all the time. I was elated most alone since I couldn’t merge with the rest of humanity as well as I’d hoped. I felt people complicated everything. When you were alone you understood the simplicities of life and how you could just survive. To breathe was easier. Hence I concluded I could do all the learning from a distance and avoid people by any means necessary. I found I could do anything from sitting at this desk, even if it was nothing at all and get where I needed to be with my studies.

I went on to spend much of that year lacking in attendance. If I was to finally leave my house it was either to come here or go to work. So I would take the opportunity of bringing my homebody out to drink in the days I preceded to be in uni. It became a viable routine if I wished to attend. It was easy and convenient to just do it. I’d buy a bottle and down a jack intaking enough to meet my alter ego every step of the way till I got to see who else I could be. People often thought I had problems for the way I drank but I don’t think I could have explained to them without receiving pesky opinions my reasons of getting hammered. You didn’t need a day of the week to determine your occurrence of fun. Nor did you need alcohol. Spirits were just a method I refused to not be immersed by in those days. I just wanted in on the lucidity... to feel elevated more than grounded. To feel undefeated and childish. To see myself surprise myself through a new perspective of a much weaker me. You could join or not join, it was my world and everyone was merely living in it. It was new to me and I wouldn’t be done for while. Even if you hadn’t thought it I was in good control of myself. My favourite ally. Nothing could come between a true alliance.

I conclude it was sort of a solution I fell into, a mere highway robbery with the understanding and joyful experience in knowing myself through odd forms indulging in what life had to offer besides my imposed religious/cultured life sprinkled down from mother and father (the imposed life). I was a patron of this high, this getaway and freedom from them and any means of pretentious normality I’d known. It was interesting to know what I was getting up to and how exactly affordable provisions of this world can take me. The behaviours and dimensions i let myself enter through the feel of intoxication in my body and mind were anarchic; out of order. I felt a stimulation of numbness, mild insanity and abundant freedom to do without a second thought some things that didn’t matter even to just let loose and mess around. I wondered and adventured, lazed around and didn’t laze around. I laughed and spoke alone, I worked very little and indulged in the places of my mind keeping a trace on every part of me and my safety. Everything was total misdemeanour and I was glad to have not been a mean or somewhat terrible drunk. I was the good loving clumsy type. Sorry for the trouble for who encountered me but also not at all apologetic for anything. There was no rule of law on my back.

The woman who ran (2020) dir. Hong Sang Soo

Now that period is over and this creation inscribes the blast before the doom. The pandemic shortly arrived and all my la di da adventures were over. Being a homebody most of my life restricted me from much outdoor interaction and so I lacked the energy to ever leave my home which holds my predominant sanctuary but just for a month and over before the doom I attended my desk very frequently mentally preparing and gathering findings for my actual work and wanted to live in some more of this fun I created for myself. Though it was the universe who intervened again to halt that flow of lack of care I had going on of being an unserious first year..

Given my disruptive inattentive behaviour with myself and anyone in my way I couldn’t focus on studies. Even at home when all my days were spent sober. I couldn’t make myself do anything that wasn’t compulsory. So i decided with the understanding that art was a mere definition of anything and everything, my work was going to be about my troubles and inadequacies all through out. I found the way to win without looking. Just to save my own back really. Nevertheless it was all rendered through sincerity and passion.

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ellebeebee · 7 years

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For the Romance Asks, 3, 7 & 25 for Xan and her boys, 5, 17 & 22 for Sabine and Zarad! :3

Asra/Xan/Julian

3. When they are having a fight, what is it about and how do they deal with it?

If it’s between Julian and Xan, it’s probably Xan getting impatient with his neediness and Julian subsequently sulking about it. If it’s Julian and Asra, it would be Julian holding the past over Asra and being passive aggressive about it. If it’s Asra and Xan, it’s the two of them not actually communicating about a problem and letting it fester.

When it comes to fights, there’s a rule that the third person can’t get in the middle of it or “fix” it. The fight-ees can talk it out/vent to the third, but ultimately have to work it out between themselves. Most likely to confront the issue are Xan and Asra, with Julian being bad for the sulking. After every make-up, Xan insists on a make-up meal with a feast of everyone’s faves and she makes a nuisance of herself in the kitchen watching all the prep.

7. Favorite date activity?

Dinner dates at home are always a hit. Asra takes charge of cooking, Julian is overly helpful sous chef, and Xan is the peanut gallery that throws nuts and grapes at vulnerable buttcheeks and is in charge of the wine. Wine consumption. (BTW SHE HAS A LOT OF DIFFICULTY HITTING THAT ITTY BITTY JULES TUSH WITH MACADAMIAS.) They like to eat on the roof and watch the sunset and the stars.

Xan likes to go to the races, and at night Jules wants to head to the pubs, and Asra likes to either laze around doing nothing or go on day trips near the city. Also they collectively makes nuisances of themselves at the palace.

25. Share any headcanons about their relationship.

Asra has a tendency to leave little notes on their desks, among their papers and books and things.

Julian is bad to procrastinate about his work, and will do all the chores for the others.

Julian gives great piggy-back rides!!! Very useful for those pub runs.

Xan is so good at being a distraction. She’ll sneak up and attack with the deadly back hug.

Asra spitefully sticks his icy feet on them under the covers.

Xan has pestered Julian into drawing terrible portraits of them, and has them framed on the wall.

Zarad/Sabine

5. How do they comfort each other when they are sad?

When she sees that little edge to Zarad’s blitheness and his smile, Sabine will do her best to help him with whatever task or machinations he’s working on. If possible, she’ll insist on clearing out the servants and courtiers, and will make him spend the day with her, reading and cuddling. He’s weak for the way she’s so good at brushing his hair. 83c Or they’ll sneak out of the palace to go play in seedy little gambling dens or such.

If it’s Sabine that’s feeling sad or homesick, he’ll probably skip whatever plans he had for the day to spend time with her. He’d plan some grand romantic gesture, and be especially sappy. Or he’d take her to one of her favorite plays, or have a troupe brought to the palace just for her.

7. Favorite date activity?

I’m sure they both will always have a soft spot for star-gazing. Garden walks, days spent going out into the city (ofc this is frowned upon for palace women, but when has Zarad ever followed convention?), and I’ve written about it a couple times, but I hc a little hidey-hole that Zarad has on the coast that they try to escape to every now and then with like two servants tops.

22. From the outside looking in, what is their dynamic like?

Lol, I like this one. Zarad is Zarad: the conceited flirt without a single serious thought in his head. Sabine is the silly, vain, and morally dubious widow who is not quite a “proper lady.” Outwardly, I think they play a game as a couple entirely based on sex. They’ll be constantly on the edge of propriety in public, and it will seem very much like they aren’t paying a bit of attention to what goes on around them.

Basically, people who underestimate them will think they’re idiots making spectacles of themselves. And that’s how they’ll like it. 8>>>

Thank you~~~

#the arcana #7kpp #ask meme #fan apprentice #revaire!mc #sabine #xanthioppe #my writing #u kno i realize that now i really only ever think of sabine and zarad in their future states after getting married #in corval #i guess cause it's still a mystery how the game will fully develop the relationship while at the summit #but i can definitely see how they'll be later on #8x

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underimagines · 7 years

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So how would UT and US bros react to their crush hugging them one day and saying "You're the best thing that's happened to me..."

UT Sans : :

You’ve caught him off guard: emotionally, mentally, physically - he’s not sure how to react. He’s so dumbfounded that he’ll just stand there a few moments staring at you, repeating those words in his head. Had he heard right? Him? The best thing that’s happened to you? He was so lazy; heck he probably spent more time sleeping than actively doing stuff with you. Those pinpricks of light illuminate ever so slightly, and if you could see it - his soul shines a little brighter. The sentiment is worth far more than you’ll ever know, albeit he takes up a blithe disposition and doesn’t agree with you (he doesn’t find himself all that great), he does appreciate you see something wonderful in him. So, he offers a nervous laugh and blows the comment off with some silly pun, before wrapping an arm around you perhaps a tad too long and hugging you tight. He’s going to dwell on this for a while.

UT Papyrus : :

He’s a blushing mess, but you’ve definitely made his day. Him? The best? Coming from his crush?! I mean… of course! The Great Papyrus expected no less! He’s trying to play this off confidently, but you can see all his fidgeting and uncertainty. That doesn’t stop him from excitedly picking you up, and in all his cheering he’s going to spin you around and around. This made his day, likely even his whole week! Next time you see him, he’s prepared his best spaghetti for you and even has some nice flowers or chocolates, or whatever you like, picked out for you! Might be a little overboard for a little sentence, but he wants you to know he appreciates you as much as you appreciate him.

US Sans : :

You’ve probably never seen his eyes go so big, or his face turn to blue. Much like UT Papyrus, he claims this is expected and is an absolute mess from it. As the little ball of energy he is, he ends up bouncing on his heels and gently taking your hand. There’s a wonderful energy radiating off his, one that’s a little contagious. He’s a little greedy, and after you’ve finished hugging him he only feels it necessary to slam right back into your chest to claim another hug of his own. Course, he can’t just let you go and say something so nice to them. He barrages you with all sorts of wonderful comments, letting you know how wonderful and beautiful you are, that he’d do anything to make you happy. He’s practically vibrating with enthusiasm, and after all this demands you to come join him in recalibrating his puzzles.

US Papyrus : :

You’ve also caught him off guard. There’s a tinge of orange to his cheekbones, and he starts unraveling a few poorly-placed puns to try and get a grip on himself. It works… kinda. He’s not so quick to return the hug, but he does. It’s a quick one, just due to the fact he doesn’t want you feeling like he’s trying to invade your personal space or anything; believe me, he’d love to hold you for much longer than that. Afterward, he’ll ask if you’d like to head to Muffet’s to grab a bite to eat. Hanging out with you for as long as you’ll tolerate him that day. He’s in too good a mood to not hang out, even though it may very well just turn into you two lazing on the couch. He’s got those words on his mind all day, and a fuzziness in his soul that helps him through the week.

#undertale #Anonymous #underswap #sans #papyrus #mod acyd #scenario #x reader #romantic #ask

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bellafics · 7 years

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Quiet In The Library

James had asked them all to watch Snape, he was sure the Slytherin was up to dodgy stuff and wanted to protect “his girl”. So when Sirius, who was only in the Library to pester Remus really, spied said boy slinking into the Restricted Section, he decided investigating that would be a much more fun activity.

“Come on, it’s for James, we’re his best friends, it’s our dutyyyy” he moaned, pulling at Remus’ sleeve. Remus sighed and shut his book knowing he was going to get no peace if he didn’t follow, though he knew full well Sirius’ eagerness was less for duty and more for hexing. He let himself be pulled over to the far bookshelves round which Sirius promptly peered, Remus just pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable -

“What are you looking at Black?!”

“Just checking what books I need to save from being covered in grease, Snivellus!”

“I didn’t think you even knew what books are, Black!”

“Yeah, well I -”

It was at this point that Remus dragged Sirius away dragged him away from this overplayed scene. “Very subtle spy work there” he mocked.

Sirius huffed. “Well at least I leapt into action” he replied leaping into a superhero pose. Remus knew it had been a bad idea to let him read his comics. “But you’re right, subtlety is key, what this calls for is... the Invisible Man!” he exclaimed, striking a heroic hands on hips pose. “I’ll go get the cloak whilst you stand guard” he added quietly, winking before dashing off to the Gryffindor Tower.

Remus couldn’t help but laugh at his impulsive, dramatic boyfriend but immediately settled back down at the table to resume reading his book. When Sirius returned in what felt like only five minutes he didn’t even look up from his page but smiled down into it awaiting the moaning that was sure to come.

“Moonyyyy”

“You should have been the guard dog” he deapanned.

“Cute” Sirius quipped pulling Remus up and into a hidden alcove of shelves and whipping James’ Invisibilty Cloak out. He threw it up in a flamboyant fashion and pulled Remus in close as it draped over them both. “You know, I think we’re getting a little big for this cloak now” Sirius whispered, leering up at the taller boy, “We’ll have to stick real close” he added flirtatiously grabbing Remus’s arse.

Remus smirked down well accustomed to this routine, “Honestly you’re like a dog in heat.”

“What can I say Moons, you’re hot” Sirius smirked back watching the usual blush form across the boy’s scarred face. Sirius could never get enough of seeing the usually composed calm Marauder flushed and stumbling because of him and could never resist upping the ante. He moved his hands up to the boy’s hips and planted a kiss on his lips whispering “so hot” teasingly into them, feeling Remus shudder he deepened the kiss until the boy put his arms around his neck and relaxed into it. Mouths parted, eyes closed and tongues danced over each other. Suddently Remus grabbed Sirius’ shoulder length hair, tilting his head further up, in return Sirius zestfully grabbed Remus’ arse again shoving ther growing erections together. He moaned again, this time with pleasure and fumbled to release them both from their pants. Remus hungrily pushed Sirius back against the bookshelf, almost tripping over the trousers now around his ankles as he did, and sending several books falling down onto their heads. Remus’ hand instinctively shot to stroke Sirius’ head whilst Sirius steadied him and they both chuckled into each others mouths, warm breath tickling their lips and eyes glinting.

“What is going on over there!?” they heard Madam Pince call from the other side of the Library.

Eyes still locked onto Remus’ amber eyes, Sirius bit the boy’s lower lip and grabbed the boy’s bulge causing him to buckle and slam his hands onto the bookshelf in front of him sending more books flying.

“Peeves! If that’s you again...”, the sound of Madam Pince’s heels were rapidly approaching now. She rounded the corner, her eyes furiously scanning the aisle up, down and beyond like a vulture searching for carrion. Remus swiftly clamped his hand over his impertinent boyfriend’s mouth, Sirius did likewise but continued to play with Remus with his other hand watching with great glee as the prefect struggled to stay still and silent. Seeing nothing thanks to the Invisibility Cloak, Pince huffed and began levitating the books back up to their correct positions cursing Peeves under her breath. Remus gestured with his eyes for them to sneak out, Sirius nodded and in unison they carefully squatted down to do their trousers back up before crab-walking out of the aisle, narrowly avoiding the soaring books. As they rounded the corner Sirius couldn’t help but cast a sneaky jinx sending all the books cascading back down upon Pince.

“PEEVES!” she bellowed, fists clenched, white with rage.

Remus grabbed hold of Sirius’ shirt and marched them both hastily out of the Library. Once on the otherside of the doors and free of Pince’s potential scoldings, Sirius whipped off the cloak and doubled over laughing. When he looked up Remus had adopted a stern countenance. “Aww but Moony, I -”. Remus dropped his act and grinned as he launched himself at Sirius who barked out another laugh as he bounded away. They chased each other all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower and up the stairs to their dormitory before collapsing in a tangled breathless mess on top of Sirius’ bed, casting the cloak towards James’ bed next to them oblivious to the owner lazed across it, parchment in hand.

“Oi” James yelled, gaining their attention.

“Oh sorry mate, didn’t spot you there, and I nicked it to go Snape snooping” Sirius explained blithely.

“Oh, so what d'ya find out? He’s neck deep in the Dark Arts right, right?” quizzed James, sitting up swiftly.

“Erm…” the two boys shuffled uncomfortably, glancing at each other.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, you got ‘distracted’ again didn’t you?” James sighed.

“Well at least you always know what we’re up to” Sirius grinned before turning round to pin Remus to the bed and finish what he started.

FIN

#wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar smut #silly puppies #gay puppies #sirius x remus #sirius black #remus lupin #madam pince #hogwarts library #marauders era

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