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gucciwins · 11 months

Text

something new

wembley brings love and celebration

Word count: 5190

A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read. please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing 💜 asks

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Wembley Stadium.

It’s a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because it’s the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.

When you first met Harry, you didn’t know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldn’t hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasn’t an online user.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly behind him.

He jumps and moves away from the counter. “Sorry, was I in your way?”

You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. “No, uh, actually. I’m sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.” You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. “It’s about your shoes. Are the Hoka’s worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and I’ve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like they’ve seen a few miles,” you point out.

Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, “so they do.” He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. “I’m on my fourth pair,” he confesses sheepishly.

You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. “Are you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?”

His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. “No, uh…I like having more options to match my outfits.”

You laugh, “that makes sense.” You pause. “Does that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.”

“I debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing it’s his, meaning it’s time for you to go. “Sorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Harry. It was no bother.”

You doubt that.

“Bye, Harry.” You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.

To no surprise, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. It’s pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didn’t dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.

“Nice conversation yesterday?” She ponders.

“Mhm…nice fellow.”

“Was surprised you bothered him?”

You look at her, confused. “Was it rude of me?”

“Some would say so.”

“I’m confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?”

Lily stares at you, trying to see if you’re joking. “Y/N, be serious.”

“I am.”

She looks around, leaning closer. “You spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.” Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.

“Well, shit!”

“Yeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.”

You roll your eyes, “geeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like it’s awful to talk with me.”

“Not what I meant,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine. The beard threw me off.”

“He’s a regular here. Comes every other day.” Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldn’t be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.

You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didn’t even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.

“You look really focused. Are you working?” Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.

The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing you’ve been caught. “Won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m looking at shoes.” You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.

Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.

“Those are cute.” You had been looking at a lilac pair.

“Right! But look at these.”

Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. “Now, that’s a tough choice.”

“Ugh…I know. I’ve been alternating back and forth.”

“Okay, close your eyes,” he orders.

You look at him skeptically but do as he says.

“It’s a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,” you laugh, and he continues. “You’re out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?”

“Purple,” you answer without thinking.

“Well, there you go.”

“That was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?”

“In another life, I would be.”

“Well, what do you do now?” You ask, genuinely interested.

Harry looks at you, confused as if you’re really asking the question. “I sing for a living. Uh…” he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. “I go on stage and perform.”

You frown, looking at him closer. “From my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.”

Harry looks amused. “Rugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.”

“It is,” you quickly agree. “Sorry, I’m used to seeing videos of him—well, you clean-shaven.”

“I’m on a break. It’s a nice way to let go.”

Right.

You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?

“Maybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?” Harry suggested.

Your eyes lit up, “really?”

“Mhmm…I like running around the park.”

“Oh, I love finding new trails,” you gushed. “I bet you have found the best-hidden roads.”

Harry shrugs, “we’ll have to see.”

“Uh… I’m sorry for not recognizing you. I don’t know if that was weird or not.” You decide to apologize.

“You’re fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,” he teased. “It was nice being just Harry.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “you’re still Harry to me. Feel like you’ll turn into Harry Styles when you’re clean-shaven on stage.”

“Not for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,” he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.

“Oh, fun,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Mhmm…” Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.

From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry you’re the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. It’s a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns you’re allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That you’re the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.

Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That he’s too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.

Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t recognize me anymore,” he teases.

“I could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,” you promise him.

Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldn’t stop teasing him that you were made up.

“Harry!”

You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.”

Brad shot you a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“It’s nice to put a face to a name. He can’t shut up about you,” Brad confesses.

“Oi! Stop that.” Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesn’t mind.

You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.

“Come on, petal. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Harry offered.

You peeked one eye open, “and a scone?”

“I’ll get you all the goods you want,” Brad chimes in. “You were a trooper out there.”

“Fuck, I never want to work out with you again,” you huff.

“Don’t think we will if he has a say,” Brad points to Harry. “Never seen him so angry.”

“She’s my friend. Didn’t want to explain her death to her parents.”

After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didn’t see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.

“Y/N?”

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, concerned.

“I like you.”

You sigh in relief, “gosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Heard you loud and clear.”

He sighs, frustrated. “These last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. “Harry,” you breathed out. “I-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Me either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.”

You laugh, “tell him I’m a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.”

“I know it’s too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we haven’t been on a date, but—”

You interrupt him. “Why can’t we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.”

“Do you end a first date with a kiss?” He asks sheepishly.

“Only if it’s you,” you promise him.

When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.

“Petal, baby. I’m here,” he spoke against your lips.

You giggled out of breath. “Sorry, I think I like you a little too much.”

Harry leaned his forehead against you. “I feel the same.”

“Good, let’s kiss some more and then have a sleepover.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, petal?” Harry asked.

You frowned, “you slept here two nights ago.”

Harry sighed, “you’re right.”

It wasn’t until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasn’t the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldn’t arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.

While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didn’t have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.

____

Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harry’s entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. You’ve known Harry for months but loved him like he’s always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldn’t take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.

“No one is going to believe I didn’t recognize you when we first met,” you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.

“Course they will.”

You give him a deadpan look, “you’re basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.” You sit up and clear your throat. “Oh, how’d we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.” You rolled your eyes, “sounds fake to me.”

“Good thing it’s the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.”

“Stop. You’re only saying that.”

“Nope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered. “Only people I’ve met now. I’m meeting everyone.”

“You met Mum and Gem,” Harry reminds you. “Spent time with them for three nights.”

You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesn’t understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but they’ve got a lifetime of Harry, and you’ve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesn’t know that. They don’t know you.

“Y/N, petal will you look at me,” he begs softly.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. “Petal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment we’re together and when I’m away. I don’t doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, they’ll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but she’s excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. You’re in safe hands.”

“I love you. Thank you. I know it’s your day, and I’m making it all about me.”

Harry shushes you, “hey, hey. We’re a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.”

You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.

___

The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with “Sign of the Times,” the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.

You didn’t even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that he’s never been happier.

Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, who’s sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and there’s nothing you’d change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.

You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didn’t bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I know it might not mean much, but I am.”

Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. “It means the world. Don’t ever think it doesn’t. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.”

He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Harry. So much.”

“Good. Let’s go mingle.” You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. “Forgot one last thing.”

He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.

“Harry—this isn’t necessary.”

Harry shrugs, “it was your idea.”

You don’t fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. “Now we can go.”

Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.

You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during “Treat People,” and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know it’s okay to go in.

The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.

“Love, go celebrate. It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you tell him in a low voice.

Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.

You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.

“Babyyy,” he called out. “Missed you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. “I love you, bub.”

Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows you’re a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how they’ve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldn’t shock you much. It’s just the type of person he is.

Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when he’s away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; it’s comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.

Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You can’t help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing he’s happy to celebrate with you in his arms.

“Harry! Sue!” Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.

“Bubby, love. They’re calling for you.”

He hums against your neck. “I’m perfect here.”

You sigh because the yelling continues, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed because he’s not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring you’re not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.

“Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise him.

Harry tightens his hold on you, “baby, you sure?”

“Yes, no go. I’ll even bring you a drink.”

“Te–”

“Tequila neat,” you tease. “I know you.”

Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.

You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.

Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, it’s Gemma, his older sister.

“Hi,” you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, she’s wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.

“You okay?” She asks, straight to the point.

“A bit loud,” you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.

She nods, “I get that.” Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks again.

You sigh, “I—i-i.”

“A bit much for a family gathering.”

“A bit,” you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I don’t even remember my boyfriend’s first family gathering.”

“Are you saying I won’t remember this in a few years?”

“Oh, you’re never forgetting tonight.” She smirks, “unless you keep drinking.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Better not.”

The two of you stand in silence, and you know it’s because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“I just—I love Harry. I do. I hope you don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how to celebrate when you’ve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.”

Gemma deflates, “oh, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Gemma cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. “It’s difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.” Gemma’s words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.

“Harry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? She’s swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/N’s CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,” Gemma rambles off. “We all know so much because he’s proud and wants to share it with those close to him.”

“I-I didn’t know.” You let all of this process, but it’s a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.

“Everyone in that room,” Gemma points over her shoulder, “knows who you are and what you mean to him.”

“Everyone?” You whisper. It doesn’t feel real. You’d never been so loved, and it might be why you’re feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. It’s not a show; it’s simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.

“Celebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. It’s clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest I’ve seen him, and it’s because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.”

“Thank you, Gemma.” She hugs you tight, and it’s so familiar yet different from Harry’s. His is light and full of love, while Gemma’s is tight and warm. “He wrote you a beautiful song.” You’re referring to “Sweet Creature,” which he dedicated to her tonight.

“It’s a special one. Don’t worry. I hear you’ll be getting yours soon enough,” she teases. “I’ll see you inside.”

A few seconds later, someone else joins you. It’s as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.

“Baby, where did you go?” Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when he’s had more than one to drink. It’s your favorite during these times.

“I’m here,” you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. “I’m proud of you, love.” You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Like really proud. You’re so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.”

Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. “I love you.”

You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesn’t let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.

“Let’s keep celebrating, my love,” you whisper against his lips.

“Still nervous?” He checks.

“Only a smidge.”

Harry smiles, “that’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Never,” he promises.

As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harry’s heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “As much as you like.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles fluff #harry styles love on tour #love on tour Wembley #love on tour blurbs #harry styles girlfriend #fluff

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discordantwritings · 4 months

Text

Safehouse (Koby x Reader)

Warnings: afab gn!reader, oral sex, PiV sex, reader thinks their feelings are unrequited but plot twist, lil bit of angst/ hurt/comfort, lots of mush

WC: 5.6k

Summary: You have a stupid crush on your Captain Koby, and things are fine until you are assigned on a mission with just the two of you. Now you have to fight your feelings as you share a bed with the man.

Notes: only one bed/ forced proximity is one of my tropes of all time thank you for requesting that I write it

Every night in your bunk you thinking about quitting the Marines. Your muscles have gone past the point of sore and aching, past pain, right to shut down. Every night you are confident you’re not going to get up in the morning, that you’ll get dumped off at the next port and figure out your life from there. And then you remember what your life was like before.

It made your stomach turn remembering the man you were set to be married to. Everything about him made alarm bells set off in your head- how much older he was, how disrespectful he was to you- but what was the worst was how you had no choice. So you made a choice. You ran to the first marine base you knew of and joined up, making the recruiter promise to transfer you a whole sea away. You were free- free to push your body to its limits every day.

But there was one other (embarrassing) reason you stayed. Your Captain. You had a giant stupid crush on your superior officer, Koby. I mean it was hard not to. He was kind, selfless, gentle, and not to mention handsome. Even when you were failing miserably he was soft and encouraging which made you want to do well and keep going. You had even developed a friendship with him, as close of a friendship as you could have with your captain but you cherished it. Chats in the hallways, asking you for feedback on training, and sometimes sneaked late night snacks became cherished moments for you.

You weren’t under any delusions though. There was no way you could be in a relationship with your superior officer on the off chance that he liked you back. Which you couldn’t imagine he would. He joined the Marines to be a hero, to help people in need. You joined for a selfish reason and you can only imagine what Koby would think of you if he knew what your story was. So it was just a crush.

A crush that kept you getting up before the sun every morning to run drills, to try and eke out every bit of praise you could get from your Captain. And as hard as it was, you were doing pretty well. Far from the top of your group, sure, but not the bottom and you were happy with that.

You were at the end of one of your grueling training sessions, laying on the deck of the ship with your fellow cadets as you all caught your breath so you could go about your daily chores.

“Cadets! One more thing.” Koby’s voice cuts through the chatter and you and every other cadet sit upright immediately. You see him standing there with a bucket under his arm and a wide smile on his face.

“I’ve got a small mission I have to leave on for a few days so you will be left in the capable hands of Helmeppo.” You groan internally at the thought of him being your commanding officer. He was mean and snotty, you’re not quite sure why him and Koby got along in the first place. “But one of you cadets will be joining me as a learning experience. Now I don’t want anyone to think I have favorites so I will be drawing a name out of this bucket, alright?”

Your stomach swirled with anticipation at the thought of spending that much alone time with Koby. But when you looked around and remembered how many of your fellow cadets there where you curbed your expectations. Only one name was getting picked and it certainly wasn’t-

You are yanked out of your thoughts by your name being called loud and clearly by your captain. Suddenly everyone is looking at you and that confirms that, yes, it was your name.

“I’ll see you at my desk after dinner to give you the mission details.” Koby says after you make eye contact. All you can do is nod and just like that he walks off and you have to go about the rest of your day.

A mission. With just you and Koby. You don’t know if this is amazing or awful. Yes you get a chance to get closer to him and to prove yourself as a Marine. But this also gives you a huge chance to embarrass yourself.

The rest of the day goes by quick while you’re stuck in your own thoughts and churning emotions until suddenly you’re standing outside the door to Koby’s office. Taking a deep breath you knock and wait for your Captain’s cheery “come in” before entering his office.

“Nice to see you! Are you excited for the mission?” Koby stands as you enter and gestures for you to take a seat. As you sit down he sits back down as well.

“Excited, nervous, same thing right?” Your tone is joking but it is how you actually feel.

“I know how that is.” He pulls out some folders from his desk and opens one. “So the mission isn’t anything complicated. We just have to check up on a Marine safe house to make sure everything is in working order and restock it. It’ll be a days trip there and then we will stay one night and head back. There shouldn’t be any trouble, just a routine thing that fell on us since our ship is passing close by.”

Oh. That sounds like a mission you can actually handle. A good amount of weight feels lifted off your shoulders. “Sounds easy enough.”

“It should be. We will leave tomorrow bright and early so be sure to get some rest, alright?” His kind smile and caring words have butterflies flittering around in your stomach.

“Yes Captain.” You say with a smile and a nod and stand up to go back to your bunk for the night. Right as you get to the door the voice of you Captain stops you.

“And just so you know I’m glad you’re the one coming with me.”

You don’t turn around to face him, knowing your face would give away the effect his words had on you. “Thank you Captain. I’m glad too.”

You rush out the door after that, speed walking back to your bunk so you can fling yourself into bed and scream into your pillow. Getting all your emotions out now was good you thought, so maybe for the next few days you had a chance of not showing your stupid crush.

Packed and standing ready on deck you fold your arms behind you and rock in an attempt not to pace while you waited for Koby. He wasn’t late- he never was- but you were painfully early after a restless night. You didn’t have to wait too long before you saw his pink hair turn a corner, his bags in tow. He beams when he sees you and you can’t help but beam back, his energy was infectious even this early in the morning.

“Looks like you’re all ready to go. Hope you’ve brushed up on your sailing.” He nods to the small boat the two of you will be taking, a small but sturdy sailboat about to be lowered into the water.

“Yes sir.” Sailing was one of the first things you learned when you joined up, and you secretly hope you remember what you learned.

“Then let’s go!” He hops in the boat and extends his hand out to help you up and your heart lifts as he clasps your hand and pulls you up. When you land on the boat you stumble forward a bit, colliding into Koby’s chest. You suck in a deep breath as you quickly hop away, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks.

Once the boat was in the water most pleasantries were dropped as the two of you got into a working rhythm. It wasn’t a bad thing- in fact working on this small ship made you feel more like a Marine than running drills ever had. The two of you worked well together (at least you thought so) and were on course to your destination.

Pausing for lunch you got to have a nice conversation with Koby. Normally any talks you had were cut short by duties and such but out here you were actually able to get into the rhythm of conversation. You shared embarrassing first moments as cadets, talked about the awful meals they always served you, and generally how crazy it was to be a Marine during the age of pirates.

Eventually you had to get back to sailing as the sun dipped lower and you got closer to your destination. The destination, you learned, was a small uninhabited island not important enough to make it onto most maps. A perfect place for an emergency safe house for the Marines.

As you sail up to the rocky shore the sun is dipping into the horizon and you as you glance over to see your Captain you can’t help but admire how he looks in the light of the setting sun. His soft pink hair gets warmer in the orange and red rays and the concentration on his face is highlighted. You catch yourself staring and quickly shake yourself out of it, finishing up your knots and stowing away everything on deck. He helps you off the boat, ever the gentleman, and the two of you make your way inland to the safe house.

The safe house is barely a house. A well constructed shack would be a more apt description. But you figured in a situation that needed a safe house beggars couldn’t be choosers. Koby entered first, just in case there was an ambush waiting, but of course there wasn’t an after a few seconds he called you in. Again, house was a very nice and not applicable word. It was one room and a bathroom furnished with a few lockers for storage, a single folding chair, and one bed.

Wait a second.

“It’s a bit dusty but I think we can handle it for a night, yeah?” Koby turns and smiles at you and you don’t have the power within you to smile back, gears turning in your head over the bed situation. Koby follows your line of sight and catches on.

“Oh. Yeah I didn’t think that would be an issue I assumed there would be a couch or something.” Koby rubs the back of his neck. “But it’s no bother I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

“No- I should be the one on the floor.” Your brain finally starts back up. “You’re my Captain I’m just a cadet.”

“Yeah but-“ He sighs. “I’d feel bad if you slept on the ground.”

That damn flutter in your chest happens again. “And I’d feel bad if you slept on the ground.”

“Well it’s my duty as your Captain to take the less favorable option so-“

The words come out before you can think to stop them, cutting Koby off. “Why don’t we just share.”

Koby looks back at you, a bit stunned.

“I mean, we’re both adults and if we just sleep back to back it’ll be fine, right?” You explain, hoping you don’t sound like an absolute creep.

“I mean, as long as you’re not uncomfortable that might be to best solution.” You can’t tell if it’s the light of the setting sun or if Koby’s face is just as flushed as yours feels.

“Right then.” You stand there awkwardly for a few beats. “So do we stock now or-“

“Oh yes!” Koby snaps back into action and the two of you go about replenishing the stock in the small house as the sun finally dips below the horizon.

It only took the two of you 30 minutes, maybe, and then you were faced with the bed once again. You excused yourself to the bathroom for your nightly routine, taking way longer than needed out of sheer anxiety. After brushing your teeth for the third time (a desperate attempt to combat morning breath) you decide it’s finally time to get back out there. Koby goes into the bathroom as you stare at the bed.

It’s an average sized bed and you can guess that if you put yourself right up to the edge and Koby does the same there will be an inch or two between you- not really a lot of space but just enough where maybe you won’t be touching. You slide under the covers and line your front with the outer edge of the bed and take deep breaths, doing your best to calm down before Koby joins.

It’s not too long before you see the bathroom door open and Koby slip out, wearing the same Marine uniform pajamas you are wearing as well. He turns the lights off and lays down on his side of the bed, back to you like you talked about earlier.

“Goodnight.” His voice is muffled slightly by your positions.

“Goodnight.” You return, hoping that Koby can’t sense your heart pounding in your chest.

Even though you aren’t touching you can feel the warmth radiating off of him and you want nothing more than to just press your back to his- any kind of physical contact would be fine since you’ve gone so long without any of it. But you don’t. You shove those feelings down and screw your eyes shut and hope sleep comes mercifully fast.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is how warm it is. Where you sleep is normally so cold so waking up to a comforting warmth relaxes the muscles in your body as you soak it up.

The second thing you notice is where the warmth is coming from. Somehow during the night Koby turned around and put his arms around you and now his front is pressed to your back. Your body immediately tenses up again as you’re jolted awake.

One of his arms is around your midsection, his hand over your stomach. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, even and deep so clearly he is still asleep. Your hand had drifted over Koby’s and you quickly retract it. None of your reactions are out of disgust no- all of them are because you are painfully aware of how much you want this.

An easy morning waking up in Koby’s arms is something you’ve fantasized about and you can’t help but soak it up despite knowing that it isn’t quite the same. It’s just something that happened involuntarily in the night, not something your Captain would have wanted. He saw you as a cadet- maybe as a friend- not this. Guilt for enjoying the moment stirs in your gut but all that is shot out of your mind when Koby shifts in his sleep and pulls you ever so closer to where you can feel more of his body pressed against you and-

Oh.

Right against your lower back you feel something hard press against you and you immediately know what it is. You bite the inside of your cheek and fight to keep your breathing level as the situation sinks in.

Of course, logically, you know it’s not about you. This is just a thing that happens sometimes and it’s just biological and not you. And you know if you were to move and wake him up Koby- perfect gentleman Koby- would be mortified and apologetic. He would never willingly put you in this position. But some part of you- a large part of you- like this. Likes feeling his body pressed against yours, his length trapped between your bodies. A cruel part of you wants to grind back into him but then you know you’d be taking advantage of him and you could never do that.

So you lay there. Impatiently waiting for him to wake as you keep your breaths low and even as if you were sleeping, tamping down your heart rate until this whole thing is over.

You don’t have to wait long, both of you exist on the same strict Marine schedule and you feel him wake up as he suddenly goes stiff, probably having the same realizations you did minutes ago. His hand slowly retreats back and then he practically flings himself backwards out of the bed. Your eyes are shut so you don’t see him move but you hear the opening and closing of the bathroom door and after a few moments you too shoot upright. The distinctive noise of the shower turning on signals you have at least a few minutes to yourself and you flop backwards into the bed with a groan.

Thank god it’s only one night and-

The sound of Koby’s transponder snail makes you sit back up again. Since Koby just got into the shower you know you should answer it- it was probably base wanting an update. You pick up the receiver and hear Helmeppo’s voice and after a short conversation you were filled in on a situation.

A nasty storm front had rolled in making it ill advised for you and Koby to sail back today, but it should be cleared up by tomorrow so just hang tight for one more day. You thank him for the update and fight the urge to fling the receiver into the wall.

One more night.

In that tiny goddamn bed.

It was a swirl of emotions because it was agony being so close to him but at the same time it was everything you wanted. It was selfish and pathetic but you kept ghosting your hand over where he held you and trying to recapture that feeling. You shoved that all down as you heard the water turn off and you quickly made the bed.

“Did I hear my snail out here?” Koby’s voice is behind you from the doorway of the bathroom and you turn to see him. And there he is. Shirtless.

Logically you know how strong Koby is, you’ve seen him fight and run drills without breaking a sweat but it’s one thing to know with your brain that Koby has muscles. It’s another thing to see it in front of you, the sheen of water glistening off of every single abdominal muscle he has. And he has a lot. It takes you almost too long to register that all he has is a towel around his lower half, seated just a bit lower than it should and you have to scream at yourself not to stare at the V shape his muscles carve in his pelvis.

Realizing you’ve probably taken painfully too long to answer you finally respond. “It was Helmeppo, apparently a storm rolled in and we are not clear to return today. He said to call him back with any questions.”

Some emotion came over Koby’s face just for a second before he was smiling again. “Well, I guess it’s good we brought all those rations.”

He ducked back into the bathroom and closed the door and you sighed. You could get through another 24 hours. Probably.

The rest of the morning is quiet as you trade places with Koby and get dressed and then breaking open some rations for breakfast. Koby suggests a patrol of the island- a glorified walk- and you agree.

Silence fell to comfortable conversation out on the rocky shore and eventually the two of you were skipping stones and laughing together. Sharing stories and blunders, you learned about Koby’s training under Vice Admiral Garp and why he was so close to Helmeppo.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why you joined the Marines.” Koby’s question forms a pit in your stomach.

You turn over the smooth rock in your hand, debating how to answer. When your fellow cadets ask you it’s easy to lie. But when it’s Koby? He picks up on your hesitation.

“I mean you don’t have to answer if it’s personal- I was just curious.”

“No it’s just-“ You sigh and stare downwards. “I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“I would never.” He voice is so honest you crumble.

You tell him everything. Everything you’ve kept pent up for over a year comes spilling out onto the shore in emotional waves. King listens patiently through it all and by the time you’re done you feel his hand on your shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” He speaks low and you feel tears prick in your eyes.

“But I mean there’s people like you, who do this just to help others. You’re a hero and I’m just a coward.” You bring your sleeve up to dot away the tears threatening to fall over your face.

“Hey, look at me.” Koby moves so he’s in front of you and you look up into his eyes. “You’re not a coward. You’re so incredibly brave, alright? At least I think you are.”

His words hit some deep part of you you weren’t sure existed and you crumble. Tears stream down your face and Koby pulls you in for a hug. You sob into his shoulder for what feels like hours, releasing all of your emotions. When you’re finally drained you take a deep breath and lightly step out of Koby’s hold.

“Thank you.” You whisper, trying not to cringe at the damp spot your tears made in his uniform.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you told me, seems like you really needed to.” He offers you a small smile and you can’t help but return it.

“Yeah I guess I did.” You wipe away the last of your tears. “We should head back…”

“Oh, I guess it is time for dinner.” Koby slings his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walk back to the safe house and you fight the urge to completely snuggle up into his side.

The two of you eat rations and have more fun conversation as the night wears on, and you finally feel comfortable being open. You laugh harder than you have in a long time with him. Before you know it the sun has already set and it’s time, once again, to deal with that damn bed.

After changing you get back into the same position as you did last night and Koby does the same. You lay there, consumed by thoughts of your day and how happy you feel. You feel the heat radiating off of Koby and you wish secretly you could wake up in the same position as this morning, to have just a few more moments of contact with him.

After who knows how long Koby shifts behind you and you hear a whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” You respond and roll over and see Koby laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I- um.” His hands play with the edge of the thin blanket. “After I say this I want you to know you can kick me out of this safe house. I’ll sleep outside, and there will be no punishment whatsoever for whatever you say after I ask you this.”

Confusion and nervousness come over you and you prop yourself up a bit to get a better look at him. “Okay?”

“I really like you.” He’s looking everywhere but you as he confesses this and you feel your stomach turn over. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so I thought I would let you know and I’ll just sleep on the floor or outside-“

“Koby.” Your voice cuts him off and you have to take a deep breath before you continue. “I like you as well.”

Silence hangs in the air as Koby finally looks at you and the two of you just stare at each other in the darkness. Terrified if you move you’ll wake up from this dream you wait patiently for him to make the next move.

“Good. Well.” It’s clear Koby didn’t think he would get this far and the flush on his cheeks makes your heart warm. “Then I guess it would be ok to sleep here again.”

“It would be.”

“Then. I guess tomorrow we can talk about what this means.”

“We can.”

“Okay.”

You nod but don’t lay back down completely. Your body screams at you to hold him close but you don’t- seeing where he wanted to take this. He watches you not move, eyes scanning over your body before going back to locking eyes with you.

“Would you- I mean-“ His hand takes through his hair. “Would it be alright if I hold you?”

A grin splits your face as you nod, laying down and sliding up to his side. His arm goes behind your shoulder and pulls you closer as you wrap one of your arms around his chest. As your head settles in his shoulders you hear how loud his heart is beating- a comfort since yours is also hammering in your chest.

But as you lay there you can’t help but think of the morning. How he felt against your back and a heat pools deep in your stomach as you wonder what happened after he left bed this morning. Your fingers trace circles on his chest as you work up the courage to talk.

“Hey, Koby.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“This morning I um… I have to admit something. I was awake before you were.” You feel his muscles stiffen under you.

“I’m so sorry.” He sounds mortified.

“No, no it’s-“ You keep tracing the circles. “I wasn’t- it wasn’t bad is what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh.”

You and Koby sit in silence for a bit as this information sinks in for him. You don’t press any further, waiting for his proper response.

“Can I admit something as well.” Koby’s voice is strained.

“Of course.” You move so you can look at his face, bright red and embarrassed.

“I might- this morning after I got up I had to-“ He groans, the words not coming out right. You decide to help.

You sit up and swing one of your legs over him so you’re straddling his lap. Koby seems surprised and his hands hang in the air for a bit before settling on your knees. “Did you think of me this morning Captain?”

“Yes.” It’s said barely above a whisper, but just that sends a wave of arousal down your spine.

“What did you think about?” You ask, hands slowly unbuttoning your top.

“How you felt against me.” Koby’s hands travel up to the tops of your thighs.

“And?” Fully unbuttoned you shrug off your top, smiling at the way Koby’s eyes become glued to your chest.

“How it would feel if we both had less clothing on.”

“I thought about that too.” You place your hands over Koby’s and bring them up to your hips. “You can touch me. I want you to touch me.”

His grip on your hips tightens slightly as he looks you over and you can see the gears turning in his head. Suddenly he sits up, using his grip to keep you steady on his lap as he pulls you in for a kiss.

His lips are soft as he kisses you deeply. One of your hands steadies yourself on his shoulder while the other goes to the back of his head and lightly grips some of his soft pink hair. The two of you kids until you’re breathless, pulling away panting as you rest your forehead against his. As you dive back in for more you shift your hips back and down and can feel his length against you through fabric and Koby groans loudly into your mouth.

His hands at your hips grip hard as you repeat the motion and he breaks away from the kiss to moan and pant. His mouth moves to your neck as he takes charge and thrusts his hips up to yours.

“Koby-“ Your plea breaks off into a moan. “More.”

The second the word leaves you mouth Koby’s hands are at the waistband of your pants and you lift your hips up so he can pull them down. You have to awkwardly leave his lap, rolling over on your back to fully shimmy off your bottom layers but Koby takes the opportunity to fully switch your positions- him hovering over you.

He presses kisses to your clavicle and slowly works down your sternum to your stomach and then your hips. You’re a whiny mess by the time his head is between your legs, hands holding your thighs open for him.

“You’re so wet.” He says it with a reverence that makes you blush hard, squirming a bit under his gaze. His fingers spread out your folds as he just looks, causing you to hook one of your legs around his back in an attempt to signal you want him closer.

He seems to get the message as two fingers press between your folds and slowly enter you. You sense how hesitant he is so as he pumps his fingers in and out you encourage him.

“Fuck- Koby feels good. Just need a bit more.” Your hand gently tangles in his hair and he takes the direction immediately, adding a third finger in. You arch your back as you get stretched out, moaning loud.

“Can I-“ He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and when you see the embarrassment on his face you know what he’s asking.

“Please Koby.” You whisper.

He kisses further in until you feel his breath on your folds. His fingers part the way for his mouth as he slowly licks up your entrance and you shudder at the contact. As your fingernails graze his scalp he dives further in, tongue entering you and gathering up your slick. He’s slow and methodical, picking up on every noise and movement you make and adjusting to what you like the most.

Three fingers pump in and out of you as he sucks lightly on your clit. Your heels dig into his back as he takes you apart bit by bit and you tug on his hair lightly.

“I’m close.” You breathe and he doubles his efforts, fingers curling inside you as he flattens his tongue against that bundle of nerves and you see stars as you gush over his face.

Panting, you barely notice his fingers exit you as he crawls up beside you, lovingly pressing kisses all along his path. As you finally settle back into your body you pull his face to yours, kissing him deep and tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hand dips down and finds Koby’s hard length and you squeeze through the fabric, earning you a deep groan into your mouth. You slowly work your hand up and down until Koby stops kissing you and whines, pressing his forehead to yours. Knowing he’s hesitating again, you push.

“I want you inside me.” You press a kiss to his cheek and gently push at the waistband of his pants. You watch his brain short circuit a moment before he catches up, hurriedly pushing his pants down and flinging them somewhere across the room, along with his shirt.

He gets onto his knees and you get a good look at him, cock red and leaking, almost painfully hard as it curves up towards his stomach. Adjusting your positions his knee holds one of your thighs open as the other rests on his thigh. He guides his tip to your entrance and you see him shudder as he first feels your heat. It’s not long before he’s pressing fully into you, made easy by all his previous ministrations.

Moans fill the room and he bottoms out inside you and he doubles over, forehead pressing to your shoulder as both of you adjust to his length inside you. You don’t need long before your hand soothes over his back and you tell him to move. And of course he listens.

He sets a steady pace, one hand gripping your hip as the other keeps him above you. He presses kisses to your neck and shoulder and whispers praises to you. How good you feel, how perfect you are around him, how he dreamed of this. You would love to tell him the same but you can’t quite form words so you settle for digging your nails into his back and scalp every time he thrusts.

It’s not long before both of you are teetering on the edge- Koby’s thrusts get sloppy and you need more.

“Faster- just a bit- almost-“ You choke out as one of your hands go between your two bodies and you circle your clit as he goes faster, chasing his own end. With one finally deep thrust you feel him coat the inside of your walls and it’s not long before you’re cumming as well, screaming his name.

Koby gently collapses on top of you and the weight is not unwelcome. You press kisses to the top of his head as you both gather your senses and you feel his arm latch around your side.

“Hey, I know things might be… hard for us… but I want you to know that I really do care about you.” Koby’s words hit deep in your heart and you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“No matter what I really care about you to.”

And you both know deep down that the two of you just said I love you.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #koby x reader #coby x reader #captain koby x reader #discordant requests

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pastafossa · 6 months

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Hi, let's talk gatekeeping fanfic. First, if you bully teenage girls out of the fandom for writing like teenagers who're still learning, you are a terrible person. Because you were that teenager. I get some of us fic writers like to pretend we came out of the womb clutching a bloody, sticky 250k word in-depth character study fic that would rank in the top ten most kudos'd fics in the fandom ever if only our eyeballs and coordination were developed enough to transfer it to a screen, but that's a massive pile of horseshit, and you know it. You wrote with mashed paragraphs and mispellings and clunky dialogue. You used the same tropes you like to mock young writers for. So maybe have a flashback and then chill.

And just in case you don't care about that, you're also literally shooting yourself in the face, because a TON of writers (which often includes you) generally follow this trend:

Get excited about a character or fandom when you're younger and/or not a Leveled Up Writer yet

Decide to try writing fanfic for the first time

Bang something out and excitedly post it

Either get good or helpful/encouraging reactions that make you want to keep keep writing, or you get a bunch of sneering comments about teenagers by grownass gatekeepers who, for some reason, feel smug about mocking excited novices who're trying to write a fun story, thus chasing you away from writing.

And there's where you fuck yourself over if you pick the shit-covered Door #2. Because a writer can't improve unless they write. Oh, you might not see the effect immediately, but after a few years, the fanfic scene will die down as writers move on to less toxic spaces (or give up entirely). And you will have no one to fill the void. YOU are the reason you'll get less fic. Imagine mocking and making fun of a new piano player whose first song on piano is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. "Ugh, I hate this basic teenage crap, are you just banging on keys? Come back when you can play Moonlight Sonata."

I literally do not give one single shit if you 'approve' of some teenager's (or adult's!) fic. If they're happy creating the equivalent of a cake with a stick figure design, that's awesome cause they made themselves a cake they enjoy. Alternatively, they're practicing making cake and no cake is perfect the first time, unless you learn something, in which case it's served its purpose and is a great cake due to fulfilling that purpose.

Tell you what - you want to gatekeep? Here's who you can gatekeep in fanfic:

Plagiarists.

There. Go nuts.

And if you're a novice writer, be it teenager or adult, deciding to try writing fic for the first time, please, please don't let them tear you down. Please don't stop writing. Don't stop learning. Don't stop creating. Don't stop being so filled with love for a story and its characters that you have to create just so you can breathe a little easier without your words and story filling up all that space around your lungs. I promise you, I promise, that every single writer you love has been at where you're at now, and the only reason they write like they do now is that they kept going, kept trying, kept writing. People will talk about talent but it plays a far smaller role than you think - this is 90% practice. And that means you can learn this.

You can do this.

So do it.

#fanfic #fic #i have seen waaaay too many gatekeepers lately bitching about teens writing fic #and then usually segueing into mocking adult novice writers too #stop being a shithead you were a novice writer too #you know how you got better? by practicing #not by being shit all over by writers who want to pretend their first work was Shakespeare level #please keep writing

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wandasmistress · 1 year

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Trapped

Requests (2)- A bottom!Natasha x Reader where Natasha and the reader are heading to a mission spot and while they’re in the quinjet R is eating out and fingering Natasha + Bottom!Natasha x reader where they have sex on a mission

Synopsis- Steve shouldn’t have tricked you into going on missions causing Natasha to miss you dearly, but once you’re back for good there is always time to make up for what was lost.

Pairings- Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content, and Steve?

Word Count- 4k

A/N- I’ve been really inactive for the past few months but I feel that I have got my motivation back to write so hopefully I can start to put out more stories :)

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Your body was exhausted to stay the least, it was a mistake for you to sign up for quick missions, a big mistake. The need to always be in non-stop action to rid yourself of growing daily boredom was prominent within you. You didn’t mind all that much because doing missions was something to keep you in check and present in reality, besides one other thing.

Because of that other thing which is a special someone that you dreaded leaving for missions. Each time boarding a quinjet or black decked-out SUV there would be a sorrowful presence looming at the door of the compound’s exit, Natasha.

When you weren’t on missions she was your constant light throughout your day because with her around you never got bored and always had a fire to keep you lit inside. When she left for a lengthy recon mission months prior you had to do something to keep you entertained for the time being. That happened to be quick missions Steve had encouraged you to sign up for when he saw your lack of life as you stared out the compound’s grand living room window that held a magnificent view of the surrounding wilderness that kept you entranced for the time being while your lover was away.

What Steve “forgot” to mention to you is that if you signed up for quick missions it would be official for eight months, let's just say you almost got into a fight with America’s most beloved. Once you signed with your signature you couldn’t take it back. At first, it was fine for the months when Natasha was gone, you had something to occupy and eat up your time, but when she came back it was a different story.

You still had four months left on your contract and time seemed to slow down significantly, so to Natasha, it felt like an eternity. Every time she saw you off a piece of her inner happiness chipped away while uncertainty replaced its spot. She was filled with tremendous dread and loneliness during all the nights she spent without you. She longed for your touch every second of the day and especially at night, she yearned for your company so bad it was absurd.

She had been pestering Steve about taking you off the quick missions but he ignored her advances and excused himself immediately so he wouldn’t receive her raft. Constantly following him around the compound to disrupt his day, in her eyes if she couldn’t get any sort of peace, why should he? During all the time she had been pestering Steve, it was the end of the eight months; she couldn’t have been more delighted. She was like a kid at a candy store, only a few feet taller, tapping her foot repeatedly against the pavement as she waited to hear the familiar buzz of the incoming quinjet.

Her deep red tresses swayed from the sudden gush of air, a dark shadow cast upon her from the monumental aircraft. The shadow was a stark contrast to the fierce light that was present in her from the thought of finally being able to have you fully.

Stepping off the mechanical quinjet for the first time in hours made you relieved to breathe in the fresh air, smelling blended natural fragrances and a familiar perfume that you knew all too well. It was in a flash and then the next moment you were bombarded with Natasha’s presence. It was hard for you to hug her back with your duffle bags still in your hands but you wasted no time in dropping them and enveloping her in your arms.

She clung onto you as a sloth does to a cecropia tree, her head buried deep in your chest as she took time to fully embrace your presence. You understood her actions because the last time you spent a full day together was two months ago, who knew how many small missions there were out there to be completed.

Natasha brought her head out of your chest and peered up at you. Taking in your wondrous features that she admired staring at during the brink of the night when the moonlight shined just perfectly on your dormant face. She would study you for hours until she fell asleep in your comforting hold with only the thought of you there with her lulling her to sleep.

“Take a picture Nat, it last longer.” You say softly to Natasha as your hands naturally travel towards her hips to hold onto them.

“Oh, shut up.” She lightly chuckled as she gave a gentle slap to your shoulder, “I would take a picture of you but it could never truly capture your beauty.” Her words made your cheeks heat up along with the way she was intensely staring at your face.

“I can tell you missed me because that was cheesy as fuck, but don't worry I forgive you for that cause I missed you too.” She rolled her eyes while letting out a breathy laugh at your response as her hands trailed up your abdomen and around your neck.

She came close to your face causing your breaths to merge, you could practically smell the minty freshness on the cusp of her breath, “But ‘Take a picture it last longer’ isn’t it?” Your mind was too hazed with the thought of her lips on yours to fully understand what she was saying. Leaning forward to catch her lips only for her to back away at the last second making a frown come to your face.

“Such a big baby, don’t worry you're gonna make it up to me with more than just kisses for your absence.” She teases you as she pecks the corners of your mouth then continues to give small kisses all around your face but never your lips which slightly agitates you.

Although, not more than Steve coming to interrupt your moment with Natasha. She instantly got annoyed as he rounded the corner. A glint of sweat can be spotted on his face meaning he ran twenty miles non-stop.

With a roll of her eyes, Natasha instantly stares down Steve as he walks up to you both, her arms now crossed over her rigid stomach.

Steve awkwardly greets the both of you with a skittish wave as he avoids Natasha’s fierce gaze.

You greet him back satisfactorily, putting your hand on the lower part of Nat’s back to wordlessly communicate with her to acknowledge Steve.

“Steve.” Natasha bluntly replies, showing no ounce of welcome in her tone.

“I hate to say this, but you both need to meet me in the debriefing room. Be there in the next ten minutes.” He says with a militant tone, fleeing towards the door of the compound straight after his assertion.

Natasha made a move to follow him but was stopped by the firm grip on her waist that held her back. When she turned around with lifted eyebrows she was met with your unimpressed face as you rolled your eyes at her abrasive antics.

“I’m off of those little pesky missions now, there's no need to hold any grudges. Help me put away my stuff, yeah?” You softly ask her, reducing your hold on her waist because you trusted her enough to not go after Steve to give him a mouthful.

She shook her head and gave you a small smirk, “Since when did you turn into a peacemaker?” She scoffs slightly in a mischievous manner as she starts striding off.

You give a light chuckle at her words but wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion at her retreating form, “You're not gonna help with my bags?”

She turns around while still strolling with a charming pout on her face and shouts, “My hands are kind of tired from all the stroking they have been doing since someone wasn’t here to do it for me!”

Your face runs cold as her coy pout turns into a naughty grin. You're stuck in a trance at her distant figure and you swear you can see her hips swaying more than they were a few seconds ago. You wasted no time in picking up your duffle bags and catching up with her, she always had a way with words that left you awestruck.

You and Natasha had just walked into the debriefing room Steve mentioned and the first thing your wondering eyes spotted was the brown box of your favorite, Dough Doughnuts. Treading straight towards the box of donuts as if your life depended on it; grabbing a plate from the table where the donuts were held to stack some of the pastries.

Helping yourself to multiple thick and doughy donuts put a bright smile on your face, “Help yourself, I got them for you, out of guilt.” Steve murmurs next to you rendering you to jump from the sudden surprise, managing to save your plateful of donuts as you turn towards him with a warm smile on your face.

You thank him genuinely, “although this won’t be enough for me to fully forgive you.” Your words cause him to take in a deep breath as you send him a shallow smile as you move around him and make your way to Natasha sitting at the immense oak oval table.

As you come closer to Nat she makes eye contact with you, her eyes broadening at your approaching figure. When you made it over she raised her right eyebrow as she eyed your plate stacked with donuts. By that time you had already started eating them on the walk over so when you spoke your mouth was full of mushed donuts.

“What? The last time I ate was hours ago.” You reasoned.

Natasha’s resting smirk only grew as she replied, “moya malen'kaya rybka fugu ”

You playfully narrowed your eyes as you took a seat behind her, quickly flashing your mouth full of mixed donuts only for her to swiftly pinch your stomach with a twisted grimace. Quietly chuckling to yourself as you got seated; Steve cleared his throat for both of your attention.

Just as he got attention to start speaking Natasha kicked up her feet on the deep oak conference table with a loud thud followed by a displeased sigh. You had to look away for a moment to contain your laughter, you had yet to ever see her be this petty towards Steve.

“I just wanted to start this meeting to say I never meant to have you sign up for the missions but no one else wanted to, and god knows the shield agents aren’t prepared enough for constant tasks like that. Leading to the point of this gathering, which is a final mission for you both.”

Natasha’s face turned into a passive expression that only Steve could see from his angle; a slight hesitation in his speech from the direct eye contact Natasha had with him.

“Don’t flip your lid Nat, this is a recon mission that should take less than a week. More of a getaway if you ask me, it’s in Madrid, I searched on that engine Googlet and their beaches are said to be nice during this time. The mission file is on the table, have fun ladies.” He declared before he left the room with a clasp of his hands.

There was a few seconds of brief silence until Natasha turned around in the twisty chair with her signature smirk ingrained on her face. She slowly arose from her position in her seat to saunter a few steps and rest herself on your awaiting lap.

In between the mid-bite of a donut, you stared deep into her eyes, slowly moving the pastry away from your face to deliver a soft peck to her nose. Her face scrunching up in mock disgust as she pinched you on the cheek complaining about the sticky filling that now occupied her nose.

You couldn’t help but not take her words into account as you zoned her words out to only focus on the accentuating features that reeled you into her as a fisherman does to fish. The only thought on your mind was her ethereal beauty, not only did her outer beauty look so magnificent, her inner beauty was millions of times better. Cherishing the moments when her relaxed personality came out because of your presence; the way her face seemed to light up when you were near, and the way you found solace in her viridescent irises.

You were standing in the cockpit, leveling the controls of the quinjet to kickstart the autopilot mode so you could catch up on some sleep that you dearly missed. As you were focused on turning on the alarm to notice another aircraft in the air, turning on the radar, and checking safety controls caused you to fail to notice the slim figure approaching from behind.

Nat takes this moment why you are in mental solitude to absorb your features; your concentrated face making a knot deep within her start to ache. The way your hands are flexed across the controls, moving in practiced synchronization as if you could do it perfectly with your eyes closed. Also, the small barely noticeable scars littered across your arms and hands that she knows all the stories to you, courtesy of you telling them to her in the deepest of the night as her head lay on your bare chest when sleepiness was absent.

She came up behind you while you were slightly leaning on the controls, encircling her hands around your stomach, laying her cheek across the side of your back as she watched the view of the endless clouds. This is where she loved to be, anywhere with you, no matter the place.

When you felt her hands on your abdomen a sense of warmness spread throughout your body at just her touch; what she could make you feel in just a matter of seconds was a feeling you always loved.

There was a few moments of sereness that passed by before her face shifted away from the clear window to face your back.

“I really missed this.”

You let out a small chuckle, pivoting your head scarcely to the left so you could see her out of the corner of your eye. “I never knew you were so needy, babe.”

She slaps your back with her right arm at your tease which causes you to tremble away from her grip but eventually turn towards her, leaning back on the controls now so you were face to face.

“Well you have been away to satisfy my needs, and I can only do so much.” She expressed softly with a playful angry expression on her face as she stands on her toes to connect both your lips once and for all.

The laughter within your stomach automatically ceases as her plump lips come in contact with yours, being substituted with a desire. Your hands were quick to move up to her hips and gradually down to her plump bottom, giving a gentle squeezing.

A soft moan discharged from her closed throat at the pressure that was so close to where she needed you to be. Her lips miraculously worked with yours in an erotic dance as the force of the kisses made each of your heads move back and forth. Her hands unhurriedly came up to your firm stomach for balance, her hands skimming over your clothed breast which made a groan escape between your parted lips as you came out of the kiss for air.

No words were uttered as you wordlessly looked into her eyes for the next few seconds, her dilated pupils and the salacious look that resounded within her darkening orbs made you dive in for more of what you so badly dreamed for.

Your hands left the position on her lower half to quickly cup her face and bring her closer while her soft tongue pressed against the entrance of your lips for admission to your tongue. Bestowing her access by parting your lips, your tongues clashed together in simultaneous congruence. A deprived moan came from the pit of her throat from the way your mouth deliciously sucked on her tongue. That eruption from deep within her vocal cords was the moment something clicked on inside of you to grant her real satisfaction.

You swiftly picked her up by the rear and carelessly sat her down on top of the controls, damn the quinjet because if you go down this would be a gratifying last moment of your life. While still retaining a steady pace of indulging in Natasha’s succulent lips, your hurried hands tugged at the hem of her leggings. She snickered as she caught onto your intentions and lifted her bottom so you could quickly pull her lower garments off.

Greedy fingers instantly met Natasha’s clothed cunt moments after her leggings had been moved and forgotten by her ankles. You took your middle and pointer fingers together and rubbed them against her clothed protruding clit. Provoking a loud moan from her; your breaths integrating from the brisk withdrawal by both of your damp lips. Her right hand presently snaked up the back of your neck while her left hand rested on your shoulder; making eye contact with her as you devoted more pressure on her clothed clit, her pupil now a tiny black speck in the sea of inveigle basil green.

Her eyes squeezed shut as they rolled back while her mouth hung open and twitched from the constant motion happening right where she needed you to be, her head inclining forward as you pressed harder. Your sweaty foreheads came together for only a moment until you shifted your head to start sending temperate but firm kisses along her face and later neck.

You had enough of taunting her, wanting to feel her needy opening sucking up your digits. Impatiently pushing aside her lacey panties as you were met with a beyond moist sticky cunt; quick to find her clit and begin irritating it for more pressure.

Natasha’s celestial moans and faltering sighs filled the quinjet's advanced space, luckily it was just you two, or else things would have been inconvenient. Although your fingers did not just stop at rubbing her clit, too eager you wait not one more second and plunged them straight into her opening. A coarse protracted whine came from her hushed mouth, as her face rested on your shoulder she took the opportunity to bite down to help with the influx of pleasure she acquired in such little time.

This didn’t deter you as you only started to pump your digits quicker, the only sound echoing throughout the aircraft was your low grunts now and then, Natasha’s moans that began to sound more like yearning cries, and her pussy making various squelching noises that rang like music to your ears as you continued to hammer into her.

It didn’t take long before that tight knot within her stomach that had been itching badly inside of her, in demand to be undone, finally erupted. When that knot flared deep in the pit of Natasha’s stomach that’s when a real guttural whine escaped from her lips. You knew she was quite the verbal person in intimate situations like this, but the moan that was unleashed from her sounded extra-terrestrial, an almost jarring roar that was brought out from a hidden place inside her.

You weren’t close to being done yet, the second you remove your fingers from her center a tired objection came from her heavy breathing mouth. Her muddled head leaned back until her heavy eyes looked upon your face, her creased eyebrows hinted to her examining your sudden action to stop. Before she could let out a weak protest you stuck your soaked fingers that had just been buried inside her past her plump lips and flat onto her unexpectant tongue.

She sucked her juices from your fingers slowly in a seductive manner as she kept eye contact with you; your knot within starting to beg for release just from the way her pristine lips grasped around your digits and slowly slid down the expanse of your fingers. When she popped the fingers out of her mouth you immediately brought them up to your lips to get a taste, unknowingly to you Nat’s eyes hazily watching the movement of your hands and the way you searched for any leftover taste of her on your fingers only for it all to be gone.

In a matter of seconds, your lips instantly met Natasha’s again, causing a groan to leave her from the force of roughness. In your little plan, you had found what you were looking for, but there was still some leftover taste of Nat scattered on her tongue. A deep moan set free from her drowsy self at the feeling of you sucking her tongue harshly. She brought her head away from yours slowly, a string of mixed saliva drooping between your faces as both your lustful eyes stared deep into one another's souls.

“There’s more where that came from.” She uttered in a husky voice.

After dispatching another quick peck to her lips, you sank to the ground in an instant. Your knees collided against the hard steel just as Natasha had spread her legs open, wide enough for you to have full sight of her exalted pussy that could never be replicated. Natasha took her bottom lip in between her teeth and smirked from the way you were taking time to adore her bare cunt as if she hadn’t told you to continue the vulgar actions that you were performing moments earlier.

It didn’t take you any longer to get back into the swing of things as your face merged into her sodden cunt, her thighs encompassing your head as her radiant smell plagued your sense as you took a deep breath in. Sticking your deprived tongue out from behind your lips that were submerged in her center, licking an elongated vertical line up her center. Her shivering that knocked you off your course made you resort to wrapping your hands around her outer thighs to keep her in place, talking into her pussy which sent a thundered hum attack her clit which stimulated her so much that she bucked and whined like a lost wolf that has strayed from its pack.

Her body shuddered from your attempted talking inducing numerous buttons on the control deck to be pressed while some switches flicked on and off. Your grip on her thighs constricted to ensure she changed no controls that would cause the quinjet to plummet to the ground instantaneously. Even with a slight chance of crashing, you stretched your hungry tongue past her entrance, and as deep as your face would let you without suffocating, making this another satisfying moment to go out.

Your tongue wriggled back and forth inside of Natasha, numerous times pressing on the bundle of nerves that made her go crazy each time you hit it just right. Natasha needed something to hold onto as the knot in her came undone even more each second, her pale fingers sliding in between your locks and barring onto the roots. You hissed slightly from the tugging she would do every few seconds from hitting her g-spot now and then. That didn’t hold you back from going deeper as her taste was so addicting, her juices being like holy ale sent down from above just for you only, sacred nectar that could never be found anywhere on the earth no matter how hard you searched.

Ultimately getting lost in the tempo and taste of Natasha brought her to another orgasm that struck her harder than last time tenfold, you were always so proficient with your tongue that she could never get enough. This time no sound was emitted from her opened mouth, only a sound of strangulation as she failed to take in air. Her tense chest heaved in and out as she got a hold of her breath but was still moments into seeing the stars. That was all muffled for you because she had you interlocked tightly within her pale plush thighs, her juices drenching your face as her cum oozed out from within her. You were entrapped, and truthfully, you don’t think you want to leave just yet.

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greenerteacups · 4 months

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Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

#greenteacup asks #lionheart #lionheart spoilers #dramione

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swansworth · 1 year

Text

The Handsome Stranger

Rhysand x Priestess!Reader

Summary: You had fallen for the High Lord, it was inevitable. However, he was clearly in love with another, and now he had come to ask you the one question you had dreaded to hear.

Warnings: brief mention of abuse, mild angst with a happy ending, a big misunderstanding, believed-to-be unrequited feelings, friends-to-lovers

Word Count: 3079

Author Notes: This was inspired by one of my favorite television series, The Vicar of Dibley. The show is much more comedic than this story is, but it still helped me formulate this. The story title is borrowed from the episode that inspired this. Some of the dialogue towards the end is as well, and some of it has been re-worded to fit ACOTAR more seamlessly. Special thanks to @azsazz for encouraging me to write this.

Not many ventured to the temple, too afraid of what peace they would disturb. It was a benefit in your mind; it meant that you could read and take care of your daily duties without anyone bothering you. Usually your days were spent in a comfortable quiet, though it appeared today would not be such a day.

“Hello?” A voice like velvet asked, causing you to sigh. You had just sat down to start the next chapter in the book you’d been reading and had really hoped to avoid dealing with anyone. You closed your book and moved to the sanctuary, doing your best to smile and give off an air of warmth and kindness. The smile on your face faltered when you noticed a beautiful fae standing before the altar, his blue-black hair tousled and his eyes closed in what appeared to be prayer.

Part of you wondered whether you should leave him to his privacy but then he asked, “Are you one of the priestesses here?” He’d noticed you. You opened your mouth to respond then abruptly shut it when his eyes opened and orbs that were almost violet in color met yours. “Well?”

His tone implied that he was annoyed and you wondered whether it was really worth your time to get involved with him. Unfortunately, it was your duty as a priestess to aid any who came to the temple asking for assistance. “Yes I am,” you answered at last, “Was there something I could help you with?”

“We’ll see.” Oh, you did not like the arrogance that rolled off of this male. The two of you stared at one another in an unspoken challenge to see who would speak next. “Shall I get to the point?”

“If you’d like me to assist you, I think that would be wise.” A look of amusement flickered across his handsome face and you did your best to keep your own expression neutral as he continued to stare at you.

“You’re very direct.” His statement left you unsure; was it meant to be an insult or a compliment? Regardless, you still held his gaze, waiting for him to state his reason for being at the temple in the first place. The silence stretched on, but you refused to be the first to break it.

Stubborn too, I see. I could use that.

The stranger’s voice crawled its way through your mind and your eyes widened. How had he done that? All at once you felt a stab of fear. He was a daemati; he could tear your mind apart with ease if you weren’t careful.

Clever girl.

It was almost taunting you, the voice, but you held firm, kept your gaze fixed on the handsome stranger. There was only one being in the Night Court who this could possibly be, and though you knew decorum instructed you to at least bow your head, you did no such thing. “Lord Rhysand,” you said, “What did you need assistance with?”

“So it’s lord now is it?” He sounded almost amused and your shoulders sagged in relief as his expression softened. “I have a friend in need of sanctuary. They were badly hurt by their former lover and have nowhere to go. I would offer them a room with me, but they were adamant that they did not want my assistance.”

There were rooms in the temple for requests such as these; cozy, private chambers that offered a sense of safety and peace while the people residing in them healed. The smallest room was unoccupied and had a fresh change of linens on the bed. “We have a room they could stay in for a time, if you feel they would be open to that.”

Rhysand’s answering smiling was blinding and left you feeling almost breathless. He truly was incredibly handsome. No wonder all the other priestesses swooned whenever his name was mentioned. “I’ll bring them here at once. Thank you, priestess.”

You gave your name and watched as that smile grew impossibly brighter. He repeated it back to you and your heart pounded in your chest at the way your name fell from his lips. It was almost a purr, soft and sensual. ‘Mother preserve me.’ It was a thought that you had often, a silent mental prayer in an effort to keep yourself calm. Rhysand’s smile turned into an amused grin as he turned to take his leave and you knew that he had heard it. Blasted daemati.

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

You had believed that once Rhysand’s friend had settled, the High Lord would go back to his daily duties, whatever those were. Oh, how mistaken you were.

Rhys’s presence was a constant, nearly daily, thing.

At first, it had been to ensure that his friend truly was comfortable and safe. You couldn’t help but admire that unwavering loyalty. There were many stories and rumors about Rhysand, but the gentle smile he wore when he spoke to his comrade made you wonder how much truth lay within them.

It turned, quicker than you could have anticipated, into social visits. He came less and less for his friend and more and more for you. In the course of a few months, the two of you had formed a budding friendship and you could admit that the smile that tugged at your lips whenever he entered the temple was genuine and warm, full of the growing affection you held for him.

You hoped that the affectionate look you saw in his eyes was just as sincere.

Part of you also hoped that what you interpreted as flirtation truly was. You couldn’t speak for Rhysand, but you knew that your feelings for him had shifted to romantic rather than platonic. It was foolish, you knew, to hope that the High Lord of the Night Court would fall for a priestess such as yourself. And yet your heart raced wildly each time he stepped into the sanctuary, looked at you with those intense violet eyes, and asked with a grin, “Miss me, darling?”

“Always,” you replied easily.

As his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close so he could converse with you about everything and anything, you sighed in content. In those moments, everything was perfect and right with the world.

That perfection ended when you saw Rhysand walking arm-in-arm with a beautiful, blonde, high fae.

You didn’t leave the temple often, but you had learned that it was Rhys’s birthday in a few weeks and you were out looking for materials to make him something. As a High Lord, you suspected that there wasn’t much you could buy him that he would need or want, and truthfully, you didn’t have much money to buy gifts with. So, you had settled on making him a token; something small he could keep with him for luck and protection. That was when you saw them.

The blonde with him was as beautiful as the goddess that you served. Grace rolled off of her in waves and you felt your knees tremble at the sight of her. She had eyes that reminded you of honey, a deep rich amber that was warm, but still intense. Everything about her was perfection; she was exactly the sort of fae someone of Rhys’s standing would be expected to be with. Your heart sank. You had always known it was foolish to hope and dream, but secluded in your temple, it was easy to imagine. Facing reality, seeing how you paled in comparison, hurt more than you would have ever thought possible.

“You’re a moron, Rhys. It’s a good thing I like you so much,” the blonde teased.

“Thanks Mor, I love you too.” Rhys laughed as he spoke and you watched as the blonde playfully jabbed him in the side with her elbow. You slipped away then, not able to see or hear anymore.

He was a High Lord. You were a priestess. It had been nothing more than a dream, and the dawn had finally come.

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

“Hello?” An all too familiar voice called out from the sanctuary. You cussed under your breath at the sound of it. Seeing Rhysand again was inevitable but you had hoped that you’d have more time to process and heal before having to engage with him. Though you had tried to fight it, you had fallen helplessly in love with him. Each smile, each gentle touch and warm utterance of your name had bewitched you. Seeing Rhysand meant facing your heartbreak head-on, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

You heard him call your name and swallowed. There was no way you would be able to avoid him forever and perhaps dealing with the issue now would be wiser. Yes, putting it off wouldn’t solve anything. You took a deep breath, lifted your head and headed out into the sanctuary.

“Lord Rhysand, how are you?” How you had managed to form words when he was standing there looking as handsome as he had the day you met, you had no idea.

“So it’s lord now, is it?” You didn’t meet his gaze even though you could feel the weight of his on your face, trying to make out your expression. There was a faint poking at your mind, but you kept your walls in place. If he saw the swirling emotions warring within you he would certainly reject you entirely. Rejection would be worse than ignorance.

“I suppose I may as well come straight out with it?” He formed it as a question, encouraging you to answer him. You turned your head to look at him and gave him a nod, a silent urgence to continue. His brow creased in what almost looked like worry. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, talked about it a lot. And I came here to ask you a rather important question.”

“Well, go on then,” you said.

“Perhaps, we could find somewhere a bit more secluded? I hadn’t intended on asking you in the middle of the sanctuary.”

“I don’t see why here isn’t as good a place as any.” You could have sworn that you saw his eye twitch as he stared at you. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides and you could tell that he was trying to stay calm. He let out a breath and refocused his gaze on your face.

“Will you marry me?” Damn. You had suspected that he and the mysterious blonde — Morrigan you learned her name was — were close, intimate even, but you hadn’t realized how close. It was your duty, as a priestess, to assist in mating and marriage ceremonies, you had officiated nearly a hundred. This, however, was one ceremony you were uncertain of.

You stared up at Rhysand, looked deep into his violet eyes and saw the almost pleading expression hidden in their depths. He looked hopeful and eager and you knew that no matter how much it would hurt you to do as he asked, you would. You would because you loved him and his happiness was ultimately what you wished for him, more than anything. With a sigh you replied, “Well, yes of course. I’d be delighted to.”

The smile that broke out across Rhysand’s face was so radiant that you felt as if you were staring directly at the sun. ‘If only I could make him so happy.’ The thought flickered through your mind and you did your best to squash it down. “That’s wonderful news!” He took a step toward you as if to hug you and you stepped back. No, you couldn’t. You would melt against him as you always did and it would be harder to maintain the professionalism the situation required.

“Have you thought of any dates?” You asked as casually as you could, though a hint of annoyance found its way into your tone.

“Don’t you think we should discuss that?”

“Very well. I would suggest a time near Starfall. That’s always a romantic time of year.” If you were to ever marry, that would be the time of year you’d want your ceremony to fall on. It was cooler, the nights longer, but the stars shone clearer and on some nights looked as if they were close enough to reach. “Though, I would have to check the temple diary to be sure we can hold the ceremony at that time.”

You moved to the adjoining room, where a few small tables and bookshelves remained for the priestesses to use. The temple diary was an easy enough book to find. Once you had retrieved it, you flicked through the pages to the calendar. Sure enough there was an opening two days before Starfall. You relayed the information to Rhysand who nodded and said, “That’s perfect.”

“Excellent! I’ll jot it down then. Listen, while you’re here, we should probably start getting some of the other forms done. Save some time.” You wrote the date down before standing to find a large pile of documents on the corner of one of the tables. The temple really needed a better organization system, but that was a problem for another day. The first part of the form needed Rhysand’s name, which you wrote . The next…

“All right, what is the name of the lucky lady in question?”

At that, Rhysand looked visibly confused. “Rhysand, you shouldn’t marry someone if you don’t know their name. I feel that goes without saying.”

Rhysand’s voice sounded mildly worried as he replied with your name. You paused in your writing and looked up at him. “Pardon?”

“It’s you. I’m asking you to marry me.”

The silence was deafening. You stared, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you out of your senses?”

Rhysand’s visible confusion deepened. “I feel Amren would say I am. She thinks it’s too soon; though I find in affairs of the heart, she’s not always the best being to turn to.”

“I might agree with her! What about that other female you’ve been spending so much time with? Morrigan, the gorgeous blonde one! What about her?”

Frustration rose within you. Was this some kind of joke to him? He charmed his way into your life and then started spending all his time with Morrigan, and now he was asking for your hand in marriage? You opened your mouth to add your own two-cents regarding his judgment, but were rendered speechless by Rhysand’s reply. “You mean my cousin?”

All at once you felt all the confusion and anger of the last few weeks coming bubbling up to the surface and you shouted, “What?!”

“She’s one of my closest friends; I consult her about nearly everything.” He still looked confused, but you found you didn’t really care. In that moment, you needed clarity.

“What?”

“We’ve been walking Valeris together trying to decide if it was too rash or too soon or, perhaps, too stupid. But, I finally decided I must follow my heart. And my heart is saying that you are the being I wish to spend eternity with, the being that I am destined to be with until death comes and claims me.”

There was a look of burning passion, strong and intense adoration, in his eyes and your heart began to beat wildly in your chest at the sight of it. Oh. He loved you. Gods, you felt so foolish, but how could you have known. His words from before, his proposal, flashed in your mind again and when you opened your mouth to speak, to say that you felt the same, all that came out was a garbled noise.

Both you and Rhysand looked surprised by the sound and you tried, once again in vain, to say what was on your mind. The noise was worse the second time. "Will you excuse me?" It was asked with some effort, but you managed. You didn't wait for him to answer and instead hurried off to the secluded meditation room around the corner. Once there you took a series of steadying breaths, trying desperately to calm your racing heart and wrap your head around the truth Rhysand had just shared with you.

It all seemed almost too good to be true. Rhysand, the High Lord, wanted to marry you? You had hoped he loved you to that extent, and would gladly say yes if he meant it. The whole situation felt like a fantasy, like a scene from those books you used to read as a child where the handsome prince would save the princess and they'd live happily ever after. Could such a thing happen in real life? You inhaled and exhaled twice more and then moved back to the sanctuary where Rhysand waited, a nervous look on his handsome face.

"Let me be sure I've got this absolutely right," you said as you approached, "You are asking me to marry you."

“Yes.”

That ungodly sound worked its way out of your mouth once more and Rhys’s lips quirked into an amused smile. His arms, so strong and warm, wrapped around your middle and pulled you to him. One of his hands slid up your spine to the back of your head before entwining in your hair.

“I have loved you from the very moment I laid eyes on you. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are meant to be together.” His breath was warm against your face as he tilted his head down and leaned forward. “Marry me, darling?”

You didn’t hesitate, your answer required no consideration. You leaned up, closing the little distance between the two of you, and your lips dragged against his as you replied, “Yes.”

There was a heat to the kiss. It was as if the dams you’d both built to preserve your emotions had crumbled and the flood of your love and adoration for one another had rushed forward. There was so much to think about and plan for. It wouldn’t be easy figuring out your place within his court and what his expectations would be; and you’d have to address your own for him. All of that would come, all of that could wait. In that moment, all that mattered was the feeling of Rhysand’s warm body pressed against you as he held you close, sipped kisses from your lips, and vowed to love you, and only you, until the end of time.

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #acotar series #t: fanfiction #my writing #lit: acotar series #c: rhysand #ship: rhysand x reader #reader insert #acotar reader insert

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months

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More Reading Thoughts: The Shadow of the Past

"The blame was mostly laid on Gandalf." Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a Disturber of the Peace...

Something about "but the growth of hobbit-sense was not very noticeable" cracks me up

I love the fact that Frodo kept throwing birthday parties for Bilbo after he left. It's so sweet.

I would much rather go to Frodo’s Hundred-weight Feast than Bilbo’s Party of Special Magnificence, actually; twenty guests and several meals “at which it snowed food and rained drink” sounds much more my speed X-D

“Bilbo isn’t dead.” “Where is he then?” “🤷‍♂️”

F in the chat for Folco Boffin, who was mentioned like once in this chapter and never comes into the story again

"Merry and Pippin suspected that [Frodo] visited the Elves at times, as Bilbo had done." TEA???

Frodo's wandering in the autumn has such an evocative and melancholy feeling to it. So much so that I wrote a poem about it last year...

Part Two of me wishing the movies could have shown the Dwarves passing through the Shire on their way to the Blue Mountains

Sam be like "Dragons and Ents are real, I tell you!" and Ted Sandyman like "press X to doubt"

Our first glimpse of Sam's unassailable trust in Frodo and his wisdom 💚

And now! Exposition dumping, with Gandalf.

I hate the fact that I can't see or hear the word Eregion without getting war flashbacks to Amazon's Rings of Poopy

Ooh, remind me to write an essay about the invisibility power of the Ring(s)...

"[Bilbo] would certainly never have passed on to you anything that he thought would be a danger." Oh boy, would you look at the time, it's Crying About Adoptive Relationships O'clock

"'There wasn't any permanent harm done, was there?' asked Frodo anxiously. 'He would get all right in time, wouldn't he? Be able to rest in peace, I mean.'" OH BOY, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Literally Gandalf: "Hobbits are my special interest"

"It is quite cool." It sure is, Gandalf. Wicked. Radical, even.

Low-hanging fruit, I know, but I had to 🤣

Speaking of low-hanging fruit, here's a joke I made two years ago about the "until Spring had passed into Winter" line:

He threw a luau barbecue one breezy summer night/Invited all his turtle pals to come and have a wiki bite/The turtles started walkin' there as Lance began to swing/The one that lived across the street arrived there in the spring...!

"I wish it need not have happened in my time." "So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Still a line that goes so, so hard, right in the middle of this exposition dump.

I like how in Gandalf's story, he makes Deagol talk normally, but Smeagol still has all those verbal idiosyncrasies that are iconic to Gollum.

I'm still trying to remember who it was that pointed out that the last syllable of Smeagol is the first syllable of Gollum. Blew my mind when I saw that, I tell ya.

"I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought." "It is not." 🤣🤣🤣

The thought of Gollum creeping through a window to snatch a baby from a cradle and eat it is at least seventeen different kinds of Not Fun. Thanks, Tolkien.

I have very little to say about Gandalf's retelling of the Ring's story—and Frodo's frightened and naive questions—except that it's almost as hard to tear your eyes away from the book as it is for Frodo to throw the Ring into the fire.

"I do really wish to destroy it! Or, well, to have it destroyed. I am not made for perilous quests." Oh, Frodo, bby...

I love how Sam's spying is so artfully foreshadowed here X-D You just go whistling away down that path, buddy! Nobody suspects a thing!

All Frodo has to say is "I suppose I'll have to go running into danger alone to keep everything and everyone I love safe, even if it means never coming home again; it's a pity, but I'll do it" and Gandalf is like "Frodo have I mentioned lately how much I love you and hobbits in general". Which. Mood! Big mood!

SUDDENLY, SAMWISE GAMGEE!

Good gracious did I need Sam and his comic relief after this heavy chapter X-D Bless you, Sam, you loveable dummy

I wonder what hobbit idiom Tolkien "translated" into "Lor bless you, sir". I'm not sure the hobbits have a concept of Eru Illuvatar as a benevolent God who hands out blessings; and if they do, I somehow doubt they'd have quaint little figures of speech like this. But I'm just nitpicking at this point because it's fun.

"There ain't no eaves at Bag End, and that's a fact." SAM 🤣🤣

"Mr. Frodo, sir! Don't let him hurt me, sir! Don't let him turn me into anything unnatural! My old dad would take on so." Have I mentioned that I love the heck out of Sam?

Frodo is "hardly able to keep from laughing", which, MOOD!

Sam heard that Mr. Frodo was going away and audibly choked. GAH I love him so much

Frodo sure knows how to threaten Sam LOL

"If you even breathe a word of what you've heard here, then I hope Gandalf will turn you into a spotted toad and fill the garden full of grass-snakes." 🤣🤣

"'Me, sir!' cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. 'Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!' he shouted, and then burst into tears." Oh, Sam. I love you.

#chapter review #frodo baggins #gandalf #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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andreafmn · 1 year

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 5

Word Count: 6.3K

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader, mentioned Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Story Description: Every month female Omatikayans go through their heat whilst men go through their rut. It’s a time for mates to engage in the most animalistic desires. But when one of the two is gone, it can be a rather painstaking endeavor. With Neteyam gone on a hunting trip, (Y/N) has to go through her heat alone for the first time. Or does she?

Warnings: SMUT (+18, minors DNI), infidelity, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), very vanilla sex

A/N: read at the end of the story 😬😬 also, sorry it took me so long to update. This week a friend that I haven't seen in almost two years came over and I was exhausted afterward from all the socializing. But it's the longest one yet. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Dedicated to @irisskies! For always commenting and showing love to this story💖

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If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 5

It felt strange waking up to an empty bed – cold and foreign. (Y/N) stretched her limbs as far as she could, shaking away the soreness that had built up in her body. Though strange now, she was comfortable. Sprawled on the mattress, relishing after a night of intense pleasure and a very long sleep.

By the time her eyes fluttered open, she could tell it was already well past midday, already nearing the dark evening. Chatter was lively all around the village, loud enough she could hear the mumbles from her nest. The sun still warmed the air and the wind whistled softly, making the leaves on the branches rustle in its way.

For a moment everything felt normal. For just a moment, the weight of her actions had not fallen upon her shoulders. She felt like could breathe, content with all the decisions she had taken in her husband’s absence. Maybe, just maybe she had finally come to terms with what her body wanted.

But it was only for a moment.

As slumber left her body and her mind became awake, everything dawned on her suddenly. Those past four days, the next three days, Neteyam, Neytiri, the Sully family, and Jake… Goddess, Jake. The man that in so little time had taught her so much. About herself, her body, her needs, and desires, about what she had and what she was lacking.

(Y/N) knew just how messed up the whole situation was. How sleeping with Jake had set off a domino effect and they yet had a way to know the full consequences of their actions. What they had done, and consciously kept doing, would not only break apart two families, but it would also destroy a whole tribe.

She kept telling herself it wasn’t love though, it was merely sex. An entanglement of carnal desire brought on by the absence of her mate. She has gone momentarily insane, crazed by the needs of her body rather than listening to the rational thought firing in her brain. Her arousal had clouded her head, she told herself. She was still in heat and that natural response was what was guiding her actions.

The girl was sure that’s how Jake saw this as well. An exchange of bodies playing the most instinctual game in the animal kingdom. Sex and pleasure, animalistic instincts, and pure arousal were their gasoline. The never-ending fuel of the fire that had ignited inside them.

What she had missed was the glimmer in his eyes as he stared into hers; the way his ears flickered at the sound of her laugh; the warmth that painted his cheeks at the mention of her name; the quick breaths that overtook his lungs whenever she was near. She had missed every single second Jake had spent trying to forget that she belonged to another man and that he belonged to another woman.

Her head was too clustered with a conflicting dilemma. If what she was doing was so wrong, how could it make her feel that good? How was it that Jake could know everything (Y/N) needed, every part of her body that craved touch? How could he do in a couple of days what her own husband had yet to learn?

Every thought flooded her at once. Every decision, every touch, every taste, every single moment that had transpired. It made her heart race and her heart tighten. She felt herself torn between what her body wanted, what her heart wanted, and what her brain wanted. It was confusing and overwhelming, but she still couldn’t help but see it all through.

(Y/N) wasn’t alone with her thoughts for too long. Outside her tent, a little voice peeped and called out her name.

“Are you awake now, (Y/N)?” Tuk called for her. “I’m here to finish your hair!”

“Sure thing, Tuk Tuk,” the girl responded, scrambling to hide the stained sheets she lay on. “Give me just a sec.”

She dressed quickly and clothed the mattress to make sure nothing seemed out of place. If there was anything she truly did not want, it was to arise the suspicion of his family. Once she noted everything was normal, she let Tuk and Kiri through.

“Morning, guys,” she breathed with a smile. “Thought I would meet you guys at your nest.”

“Well, you almost slept through the day!”

“Dad told us you’d probably sleep in today, so we decided to meet you here. We came earlier but you were still asleep and we let you be,” Kiri explained, placing a hand over her sister’s mouth in an effort to quiet her before she gave (Y/N) an apologetic smile. “This week has probably been exhausting for you.”

“You have no idea,” she chuckled. “But I’m glad you guys are here.”

She settled on the ground as Tuk took a seat on her bed behind her. A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the child sat on the very spot she had been with her father. It made her body fill with warmth and had her squirming, something she hoped the girls could not see.

But soon enough she got lost in the feeling of the girls doing her hair. They undid the braids that held her hair together, running their fingers through the strands to loosen them up. The dark locks fell down her shoulders in soft curls, flowing down past her shoulder blades. She was engrossed in the way they brushed her hair and took their time trying different hairstyles until they settled on the perfect one.

“Oh, (Y/N), did your necklace break yesterday?” Kiri’s voice seeped through her calm trance and broke her focus. “What happened to it?”

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open to see her friend handing her three beads of the necklace her father had snapped the night before. Flashes of what had happened in that very room crowded her head, building a fire in her body as it remembered Jake taking her on the mattress. Her body tensed as she looked at the colorful spheres on her hand. She had completely forgotten that Jake had ripped it off her body and the pieces had flown everywhere.

“Oh, I was really tired last night and accidentally pulled it as I undressed,” she scrambled for an answer. “Completely forgot about it.”

“Want me to make you a new one?”

“That’d be great, Kiri. You know I love every piece you make.”

“Alright,” she beamed. “I think I’ll be done by the time Neteyam comes home. Maybe even by tomorrow.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Now you can surprise him with a new hairstyle and a new necklace,” Tuk squealed. “I am done!”

“Oh, it looks beautiful, (Y/N),” Kiri boasted. “I am sure Neteyam will love it.”

She stared at her hair in the mirror she had been gifted by Norm. Tuk had done the top half of her hair with two thick braids that met at the back, the feathers pinned where the locks met. She’d left some curls framing her face and ears, the rest cascading down her back. It looked effortless and hard work all at once. The red and yellow feathers popped against the darkness of her hair, the perfect accessory to the beautiful hairstyle.

“Thank you, Tuk,” the girl smiled. “You’ve always been the best hairdresser. I love it.”

“Maybe that should be my job at the village,” Tuk giggled. “I’ll do everyone’s hair!”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Now all you have to do is keep your hair intact until Neteyam comes back,” Kiri chuckled. “Think you can manage that?”

“I sure will try.”

“I don’t mind redoing your hair, (Y/N)!”

“Thanks, Tuk.”

After the girls left, (Y/N) couldn’t do more than sit in front of the mirror and stare at her reflection. The Sully girls had done up her hair in anticipation of her husband’s arrival, and the first man that would be able to see her would be their father.

“Oh, Eywa,” she sighed to her own reflection. “What am I doing?”

Her stomach churned as her mind flustered with the juxtaposition that had become her life. She wanted to be loyal to Neteyam, but she couldn’t help the fire that burned deep inside her for Jake. She wanted to be the perfect wife everyone thought her to be, the perfect cure tsahik everyone expected her to be, simply perfect. She wanted to remain the same (Y/N) that had been shaped to lead alongside her husband.

But she was flawed. And the wanton corporal need that crept from the pit of her stomach had become unavoidable at that point. Her body craved Jake’s touch whilst her heart called to Neteyam. The older man had left an indelible mark on her skin, and her husband had left one in her heart.

She needed guidance. She needed the whispers of the earth to give her the answers she was shouting into the void. She needed a sign.

Before she could process what she was doing, (Y/N)’s legs were moving. She left her nest and started her journey. Her pace was slow as she passed people in the village, smiling and waving in acknowledgment. She did not want to create any concern in her fellow tribe members that would cause them to follow her. She wanted — needed to be alone.

As soon as she left camp and was out of anyone’s sight, her feet took off running. It was aimless at first. Needing any possible distance between her and everything that happened back home. She needed an escape, a moment of solace with her thoughts, a moment to breathe.

Still, she knew the path she was taking like the back of her hand. Every step she took only brought her closer to the only place she could get what she was yearning for. The only place where she could whisper into the air and she would get an answer.

It wasn’t long before she was basking in the bright lights of the tree of souls. Just the sight of it had a wave of calm wash over her. She ran her hands through the lit-up tendrils of the tree, staring in awe at how they shone brighter at her touch. It was an unexplainable feeling to stand under the tree that housed all of her ancestors. The same tree that had seen her birth, her passage to adulthood, her union to Neteyam.

Under that very tree, that stood tall and firm, her whole life had passed before her. Every monumental step in her life had been witnessed by those that came before her. And it was the only place she could look for answers without feeling the judgment of the living.

She found a spot, deep inside the tree, and sat on the ground. She took hold of a bioluminescent strand and ran it through her hand as she used another hand to grab hold of her queue, ready to make tsaheylu with the willow.

A breath hitched in her throat as she finally allowed the bond to take place. Her pupils dilated and her ears were inundated with the whispers of souls. They welcomed her into their embrace, speaking words of encouragement and peace.

“Mother Goddess,” (Y/N) sobbed. She had no idea when she had started crying, but she felt the warm rush of her tears sliding down her cheeks. “I am here in need of your guidance. I know the vows I made in front of you and my ancestors, and I tried my hardest to uphold them. To this day, I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know what is still coming over me.

As much as I want to remain faithful, to wait for my husband to come home and live as mates, but I have this thing burning inside of me and it calls to Jake Sully, Great Mother.

I know the tragedy that will fall upon us if this is ever found out. Jake will no longer be Olo’eyktan, they’ll exile us, and both Neytiri and Neteyam will be cursed to go on without their mates. It will be devastation like no other. And we would have to live with the shame of what has been done.”

Air got caught in her throat as she cried. It was one thing to think all of this in her head, but hearing herself speak out loud shook her. It was real, all of it was real. The infidelity, the lies, the temptations, the wants, the needs. Everything was far too real.

She let out a loud shriek, clutching at her heart. The pain was too overwhelming to hold inside. The last thing she wanted was to hurt the people she loved. Yet, her actions had been selfish and fueled by split-second decisions.

“Ma Eywa, rutxe,” she wailed. “Tell me what I should do. Give me a sign of how I can go on, Great Mother. I know what I’ve done is unforgivable, and whatever punishment I receive would never compare to what I already feel. But I do not want to break that family. Sullys stick together, and that’s the way it should remain. I am only a Sully by marriage, they are blood. At the end of the day, blood weighs more than water.

So, I am on my knees begging. Tell me what to do. Just give me a sign, Great Mother.”

***

Jake had found it hard to stay away that day. He had found it hard to leave her the night before. But he had to care for his family, and Tuk needed him.

He tried to make his escape once his daughter seemed to settle. But every time he would move to make a run for it, the child would stir and he’d fall back in place.

That night he dreamt of her. He dreamt of her skin, her lips, her warmth, her scent. Every single one of his senses had been overtaken by (Y/N). Everything but his touch. Because as much as he yearned to be by her side, she was simply not his.

The moment he woke up, the first thing he wanted to do was run to her. But his duties had taken hold of him before he could fulfill his wishes. He did everything he had to do to the best of his abilities, the image of (Y/N) sewn into his brain.

Jake would find himself getting lost in thought from time to time, being brought back many times by the people around him. He was distracted and restless, hoping that the more he stared at the sky, the faster the day would move.

He saw his daughters saunter over to (Y/N)’s tent as the sun started to set on the horizon, taking everything in him not to join them. Even if he had to sit in a corner and be ignored, he simply wanted to be in her presence. He wanted to be close enough to hear her laugh, to feel her warmth, just close enough to be able to touch her. It wouldn’t have been much, but just enough.

Still, his responsibilities had to be prioritized. As much as he wanted to throw all caution to the wind and act as overzealous as he had been in his 20s, he was the Olo’eyktan of the clan. His job was too important to ignore and it was his obligation to watch over the tribe. (Y/N) would just have to wait.

Soon enough, he’d be done, and all the time he had left would be his.

“Kiri, sweetheart, wait up,” he called to his oldest daughter. The day was close to reaching its end, one of his last opportunities to be with (Y/N) slipping away. “By any chance, do you know where (Y/N) is? She’s not in her nest.”

“Well, I’m not sure,” she responded. “Last time I saw her was inside her nest, but maybe Lo’ak saw her after. I know she was walking around.”

“Alright, thanks, sweetie. Go ahead and set up for dinner without me. I still have some loose ends to tie up.”

“Sure, dad.”

Jake set up running looking for his youngest son which proved to be harder than he could have imagined. His son had a proclivity to be in places he shouldn’t have been, in moments he shouldn’t have been. And right there and then, he needed Lo’ak to magically appear.

He moved from corner to corner in the village, asking whoever he could if they had seen his son. Being met with the same answer was frustrating and irritating. His hours were counted and time kept trickling down without any regard for what he wanted.

“Lo’ak!” Jake finally found his son, dismounting his ikran. Normally, he would have scolded the boy, settling into one of his overdone lectures. But there was no time for that. “Kiri told me you may have seen (Y/N). Do you know where she is?”

“Uh, last I saw her she was on her way to the Tree of Souls,” Lo’ak answered. He was surprised at his father’s words. He expected the usual reprimand for flying his ikran right before daybreak. Yet, it never came. “Haven’t seen her since.”

“Alright, thanks, son,” he said. “We’ll talk about this when I get back.”

“Shit,” the boy mumbled as his father’s figure disappeared into the trees.

As soon as he knew no one could see him, Jake took off running. His steps lit up the trail behind him as he sped toward the grand willow tree. All he wanted to do was as much time with her as possible, and the day was almost over.

What he had not expected was the scene he ran into. (Y/N) was on her knees, her queue connected to a tendril of the tree as she sobbed. But what truly broke his heart was what she said.

So, I am on my knees begging. Tell me what to do. Just give me a sign, Great Mother.”

He felt as though someone had gotten their grip around his heart and were trying to rip it out of his chest. She looked so frail and defeated. Her whole body was shaking as tears fell from her eyes, staining her cheeks. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and take her pain away.

Jake took tentative steps toward her, careful to not startle the girl. He stepped over roots and walked through vines to reach her. The only thing on his mind was how he could comfort her, and let her know she was not alone.

But his presence was instantly noticed. (Y/N)’s head snapped toward the sound of his steps, her teary eyes falling onto his. Her whole body slumped as he neared her, the weight of her emotions taking a toll on her body.

“Come here, little one,” he whispered once he was close enough to her. Jake knelt beside her, wrapping his arms tightly around her form. She pressed her head against his chest, allowing herself to come undone in his embrace. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

“I… I… I can’t.”

“I think I can guess. I heard what you said.” His voice broke as he spoke, her sadness spilling over to him. “I thought we weren’t going to burden ourselves with this until tomorrow, (Y/N). What happened?”

“I just… I just don’t know how I could ever move forward, Jake. How will I look into Neteyam’s eyes knowing what I’ve done? Knowing how I’ve felt?”

“Why do you keep talking as if you’re the only one that’s done something wrong?”

“Because I did,” she sobbed. (Y/N) lifted her head from his chest, her glazed yellow eyes boring into him. “I was unfaithful and disloyal to Neteyam and I came between you and your family. I did that, Jake. What runs through your veins will always unite you – as it should be. My space in the family is the only one that’s replaceable.”

Jake’s heart sank as she spoke. Her pain and hurt were overwhelming, a choking wave of powerful emotions. The worst part was that she was the one feeling them. He wanted to be able to carry all that guilt and all that turmoil that she held inside her, to unburden her of the weight of their choices and carry it on his shoulders by himself.

“I hope you know just how wrong you are,” he comforted. His hand raised to her cheeks, trying to wipe away the streams that stained her beautiful cheeks, before falling to take her hands in his. “You are as much a Sully as my children. You are a quintessential part of this family, and none of us would be the same without you. We didn’t know what our family was missing until you came along. I didn’t know there was something missing from my life until you came along.

If you are looking for a sign, baby girl, this is it. What happened this week was meant to happen, because our Great Mother would have not allowed it had it not been fate.

It is no secret that this will end in two days, but it doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the rest of our time together. Whether we can do it again after, I cannot say. But the future is everchanging. All we can do is focus on the now. Can you do that, little one? Focus on this moment without worrying about what the future holds?”

(Y/N) felt the air thicken around her, her lungs struggling to take a breath. Could she do that? Could she disregard any future consequences for a fleeting moment of pleasure? Could she go on the rest of her life harboring such a damaging secret?

All it took was a look into his eyes, the touch of his hands, and the warmth of his body pressed to hers, for her to answer, “Yes.”

His hands rose once more, gently cupping her face as he moved her face to meet his. He placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, a feeling of deja vu taking over him. He was letting his emotions guide his actions just like he had done over 18 years before. Under the same purple-blue light from a similar tree, he had made a choice before Eywa to mate for life with one woman. And under the same eye of the ancestors who had bore witness to monumental events in his life, he was throwing caution to the wind.

That night would be different from the two before. Instead of giving in to his animalistic urges, Jake wanted to show her another side of him that she had yet to see. He wanted to show her the gentle and nurturing version of what they were doing. He didn’t just want to fuck her, he wanted to make love to her.

His movements were tender and calculated. He didn’t want to rush the moment. He wanted her to feel cared for and satisfied. He wanted her to walk away from that night knowing she was loved and important, that she was a valuable person to him and to his family, and that no matter what they would always have those shared moments.

“You matter, sweetheart,” he smiled at her. “You matter to me; you matter to this family; you matter to our clan. There is no us without you. You, my darling, have always been inevitable.”

A smile spread across both their faces before their lips met in another gentle kiss. This one, though, was filled with passion and want. It spoke what neither had been able to voice to the other, holding in its grasp every emotion and sentiment they shared.

Although, it didn’t take long for it to turn steamy as they grew hungrier for each other. His hands landed on her hips, pulling her body closer to his as she straddled his lap. He wanted to feel as close to her as possible. He wanted her to know just how much he wanted to be close to her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands clutching at the hair on his nape. She pulled softly as she normally did, earning a groan from Jake and a quick rutt of his hips. But he broke the kiss quickly after.

“Is something wrong?”

“I want tonight to be different,” he breathed, placing his forehead against hers. “I want to take it slow. I want to worship you and your body in the way you deserve. I want to give you a moment that you will never forget.”

Sharing a gaze, he undid her necklace, exposing her breasts completely. Afterward, he untied her loincloth, carefully placing it with her top cover. Under the lights of the Tree of Souls, her bare body looked ethereal, unlike anything he’d seen before. Unlike anyone he’d seen before.

As he kissed her again, he placed a hand on the back of her neck, guiding her body to lay flat on the ground. He towered over her, his lips roaming her face, mapping every line and dot on her skin. He kissed her temple, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her lips… every single part of her face was met with his pink lips.

His head dipped, traveling from her face down to her jaw and settling on her neck. Jake kissed and nipped at her skin, knowing which spots would have her back arching and her throat moaning. He paid close attention to her reactions. The way she would suck in a breath when he softly sunk his canines into her skin, the trembling groan she released when he ran his tongue flat on the same spot, the whines that left her mouth when he came up for air.

Jake moved further, his path marked with wet kisses, until he landed on her breasts. Her skin erupted in shivers at his touch, as if it had been the first time she’d felt the warmth of his mouth on her. His lips wrapped around the stiffened peak, his tongue stimulating her to no avail. Soon after, his hand joined him in paying attention to her other mound, wanting nothing more than to have two mouths to give both breasts the care they deserved. But splitting his focus would have to do.

Her body squirmed at the feeling. Something about being completely out in the open as he gingerly kissed her body grew her arousal to unsurmountable amounts. She felt as sensitive as the first time she had ever had intercourse. (Y/N) never thought she would ever feel that way once more. So giddy with excitement and anticipation as the door to a whole new experience opened.

“I need you, Jake,” she breathlessly purred out. “My body needs you.”

With a hearty chuckle, he released her breasts, trailing over her stomach and down between her legs. He kissed her thighs, moving slowly upward until he settled centimeters away from her arousal. She glistened under the bright light, a testament to just how excited she was.

“Goddess, you’re simply breathtaking,” he said right before giving her what she wanted.

He attached his mouth to her core like a man starving. His tongue lapped at her bundle of nerves, attacking her with the utmost calculating force. That night would be all about her. About showing her everything she deserved to feel and how she deserved to be treated.

He used his tongue expertly, circling and flicking the little mound that would trigger her climax. At the same time, he hollowed his cheeks, sucking incessantly to edge her on. He was moved by the sounds that rolled out of her mouth. It was the most beautiful song he’d bore witness to.

“Oh, my Eywa,” she mewled. “I’m close. I’m so fucking close!”

“Then do it, sevin. Cum for me.”

(Y/N) wrapped her fingers into Jake’s hair, pushing his head deeper into her. The sensitivity of her body was astronomical and she could feel her peak gripping at her insides faster than ever before. But when Jake suddenly added two digits into her entrance, she couldn’t help the instinctual clenching of her walls.

He pumped into her as fast as his tongue moved over the aching bud, the tips curling slightly to stimulate her from the inside. He wanted her to burst. He wanted to build that bubble inside her until it finally popped. He wanted her to scream his name, to writhe under his touch, to remember that no one would ever make her feel like he could.

It didn’t take long for the ecstasy to flood her body. As she felt herself explode in pleasure, her back arched off the ground, Jake’s tongue and fingers still working her as she felt the sensations of her climax ransack through her body.

Once her body calmed, the man made the journey back up her body, leaving more wet kisses on the expanse of her skin. He found her mouth once more, savoring her and the moment. Still, everything felt like it was fleeting quickly. That time was slipping away from them and in a split second they would lose everything they had.

“I need you, Jake,” she whispered into his flickering ear. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command, sevin,” he smiled, sitting up. “Come here.”

He pulled her body up, moving her onto his lap. He wanted to see her, stare into her eyes as they engaged in one of their last moments together. He ran his fingers across her face, tracing and mapping every inch of skin. He trailed over her features before his hand landed on her jaw, his thumb caressing the plump blue skin of her lips.

“You truly are the most beautiful creature I’ve laid eyes on,” he sighed, too enthralled in the moment to realize the weight of his words. “I just wish…”

“Don’t,” she stopped him, placing a single finger on his lips. “Don’t wish. We don’t get to wish, just live in the moment.”

“I can’t help myself, (Y/N). I can’t help what I need, what I’m feeling.” His gaze bore into hers, searching for any sort of reciprocity on her part. “I can’t help but wish we had more time, wish we’d been born in different times, wish it was just you and me.”

“Jake…”

“I know… I know. I just needed to say it at least once. Because if I had to go the rest of my life without saying it, I was going to burst.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, the words seemingly stuck in her throat. Instead, she responded with a soft and passionate kiss, hoping it was sufficient enough to calm his fears. It wasn’t hard to tell that the emotions they shared were heightened in the man, that he felt a connection that was more than just physical. She was confused and reeling, and nothing he said was helping her. Yet, she couldn’t find the strength to end things.

Rather, she unfastened his loincloth, baring him as much as she was. She grabbed his length, lining the tip with her entrance. She connected their lips right as she sank down, the sudden stretch taking all the breath from her lungs. (Y/N) steadied herself by wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing her body to grow used to the feeling of having him inside her.

It took them a second to start moving. They were overstimulated and overwhelmed. By the moment, by the feeling, by their emotions. It was everything and nothing all crashing down on them. This was it, the point of no return. Jake had said what had been weighing in his heart out loud and he was not planning to take it back, not even if she didn’t feel the same.

Suddenly, she started to move. Their position not giving them leeway for much more. And for the first time in three nights, she felt different. Her heart felt warm and calm. Could this be the sign she had been pleading for? Had Eywa heard her cries and was telling her everything would be alright?

(Y/N) bounced slowly on his lap, her hips gyrating softly. Although they were restricted by the position and the area, he was reaching deeper than he’d ever done before. She felt full and stretched, and she knew that she would not last very long. Not that night, not after everything they had done.

With his limited mobility, Jake tried his best to meet her jumps, his thrusts meeting her pace perfectly. Much like her, he was already on the edge. Spending all the with (Y/N) on his mind had built up enough desire and arousal to have him spilling with a simple kiss. Whether it was the novelty of their meeting or whatever it was he was feeling, he felt like an overeager boy. His experience and resistance went out of the window.

They were both holding on, trying their best to stretch the moment as far as they could. To live in the feeling as much as their bodies allowed them to. But it would prove they were weaker than their desires.

“(Y/N), I see y…”

She was quick to cut him off with a kiss. “Not those words,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t say those words. Not here.”

“Then, I yearn for you,” he proposed. “If I cannot say those words, then I’ll give us our own. I yearn for you, (Y/N).”

“I yearn for you too, Jake,” she whispered. “I yearn for you.”

A couple of skillful thrusts and they were both bursting, their essences mixing inside of her. Her walls clenched around him, emptying him of every drop of seed from inside him. (Y/N)’s head fell to the crook of his neck, her chest heaving and her body trembling in pleasure and exhaustion. She clenched her arms tighter around his neck, the only thing keeping her grounded being his scent.

There was a haziness in her brain as she came down from her culmination. The satisfaction that Jake had been able to provide her in such little time was intoxicating and addicting. (Y/N) had no recollection of how her body reacted before she had been with him and was scared of how she would feel after. Her body still called for him even if her heart did not.

Yet, it was earth-shattering and earth-binding all enveloped into one for Jake. A feeling that overtook all of his senses – mind, body, and soul. Under the tree that had seen his soul transfer, that had seen all of his children born, that had been witness to every moment that made him a Na’vi, he’d shown that maybe there was someone else that could complete him. What he felt was always missing from his life – from his heart – was her.

“Come here, sevin,” he told her as he led her between his legs. Her back was flush against his chest as his arms snaked to her front in a comforting embrace. “Do you think you have another one in you?”

“I could,” she grinned, though her eyes were already closing in tiredness. “But just one more.”

“Wouldn’t ask for anything more,” he chuckled. “Now, hold on.”

He freed one of his hands and slithered it down to her wetness. Gathering some of their mixed releases, he caressed her swollen clit. He wanted to push her just over the edge, give her body just a bit more than it could handle.

He circled and pinched the bud, varying his speeds as he paid attention to her breathing. He gawked at the way her chest would rise and fall in tandem with the movement of his fingers, her moans spilling every couple of breaths.

There was no chance for her to hold out for too long. Her body still reeling from their moment together, she was sensitive and frail. She could already feel the next ripple threatening to run through her body. And once Jake added his lips to her neck, (Y/N) knew she could not hold back anymore.

“I know you’re trying to hold it, baby girl,” he whispered against her ear. “Cum for me, sevin. Let go.”

And she did. She allowed her orgasm to plunder her body, letting the weight of her body rest completely against his. He snaked a hand under her chin and turned her head until he could give her a tender kiss, his other hand brushing away the hairs that had stuck to her face.

Under the light of the willow tree, the shine of their ancestors, he had given proof of what he felt. One of the last times he would ever be able to do so. Two days were all that was left until the fantasy would shatter. Two more days and he would have to repress the way his heart had changed rhythm.

But as he stared at her sleeping face, her eyelids fluttering as slumber overtook her, he allowed himself to live in the delusion. Whatever happened after the next night, would be out of his hands. For now, she was in his arms. For that split second, she was his.

Next ->

A/N: well, surprise! there's another part coming. As I did a part breakdown, I noticed I could not fit the story into five parts. But I would love to know y'all's theories on how this will all end🫣 Also, look at Jake falling for reader even though she's only in it for the physical satisfaction... 😈

Taglist: @uwunuggetchan @ellabellabus07 @sweetllamaparadise @crazy4books1 @jake-sullys-whore @saltedcoffeescotch

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marcynomercy · 1 month

Text

Fate written in blood

Thank you @littol-rascal for beta-reading and for giving me so many tips and suggestions to improve writing thanks to that the next chapters got better too.

Summary: The blood has always been her way until the day that fate changed, After being kidnapped by mind flayers and the fall of the Nautiloid Calamity had a new opportunity for freedom and strangely her fate crossed with that of Astarion when the elf put that dagger around her neck.

Their fate until now was written by others, but now they would write with their own hands in blood.

Warnings: Violence, blood, game events, mentions of trauma, distress/comfort, mention of abuse. (That’s it for now)

Ship: Astarion and Calamity (Tav), Shadowheart and Carniex (Tav), mentions of other characters.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4.

Chapter 3 - Blood and a song

That night, Calamity told Astarion her story–vaguely, because it was a bit too foreboding in the middle of the night, and perhaps the details would leave them both with nightmares, she said.

In turn, Astarion heard everything she was willing to say, making his own mental notes: First, that her masters were two motherfuckers who deserved death just as well as Cazador, and second, that she was clearly broken—she just didn’t know how much.

She’d admitted that she was just "acting" the lead role, and Astarion found himself impressed since she’d done so quite it masterfully... so he just realized that she just assumed what she needed at the time, like a good doll and puppet.

He felt disgusted by it.

For some reason, he began to hate it, the lack of personality, ambition and greed... the lack of life in her. By the gods, he was an undead and had more to live for than she who had a beating heart in her chest!

So he started little by little, and when she seemed to want something, he encouraged her to take it, no matter how useless it seemed.

"Darling, if you want something, take it! No one willcare, and it’s better to have than to not, don’t you think?"

Hearing these words, Calamity just kept quiet, but she agreed.

Calamity went on to pick up a few things, starting with one or two books that she became curious about, and then jewelry–they found a bag with some, and Astarion picked up almost all of it, with the exception of one piece–a silver necklace. After all, he had to stay away from silver, but Calamity kept staring at the necklace with great interest.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"A-Ah... the stone." She pointed to the small stone in the setting, probably a ruby, judging by its crimson hues. "It’s beautiful… I like that color," she said softly.

"Do you like red?"

"Yes! It’s a strong and welcoming color..." She looked into his eyes. "Like your eyes."

Astarion found himself at a loss for words.

"R-Right, if you like the necklace, then take it! I can’t touch it," he chuckled

That’s how she took the necklace she would wear around her neck often now.

It was the sixth day after the fall of the Nautiloid and the formation of this strange group, and now, they had two more members: A tiefling who fled the blood war called Karlach, and the hero of the coast, Wyll.

So far, they’d just had to deal with some goblins, gnolls, some false paladins of Thyr, and at the present time–a hag.

"That bitch pissed me off." She told the group as justification for chasing the hag to the bottom of her lair.

Was it perhaps another idiotic reason? Maybe, but this witch had angered everyone in the group one way or another, so no one protested. At least it was a decision she made based on the trial itself, and that was progress and... well, they found a Gur. For some reason, he’d been there on the trail near the hag’s house, and they bumped into each other after the fight against the hag, saving Myrina and giving her a zombie husband. The Gur said he was looking for a vampire spawn,and immediately Calamity and Astarion’s gazes met.

"And what will you do with him? Kill him?" Calamity asked.

"I have orders to capture him and take him back to Baldur’s Gate," the Gur replied, "my people are waiting for me there."

As easy as it would be to pull a dagger and kill him– something she’d done before– didn’t seem justifiable, since she was the only one to know Astarion’s secret... therefore, she discreetly poked the vampire, hoping he would stop looking at the hunter as a beast ready to kill, saying goodbye quickly before snatching the elf, taking him down the road with her until they were out of the Gur’s earshot.

"Why the hell did you spare him?!" Astarion’s tone was frustrated at best, downright furious at worst. "I should have killed him!"

"Shh!!" Calamity put her hand over his mouth as she walked him away from the group a little so they could speak. "I did it to keep your secret hidden for longer! Think about it, Astarion… if I killed him without a GOOD explanation what others would think?" She argued, stepping away from him a little. " You once told me to think first before acting impulsively."

"Well, that was because you tried to draw the sword to a devil! He was just a Gur, and we killed a Hag because she annoyed you, remember?"

"I think the Hag’s death was enough of an impulsive action for today."

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Yes! But if he shows up at camp..." Astarion’s tone was pointed, clearly expecting a response.

"Well," she replied, meeting his gaze with as serious of an expression as she could, “then I will have the pleasure of killing him, and draining his blood to be your dinner." She finished with a flourish of her hand, smiling at the vampire.

Astarion just laughed in response, imagining her hanging the cadaver upside down to drain the blood–imagining such a small and adorable person doing it was frankly hilarious.

"Hey, you’re mocking my height in your mind again, aren’t you?!" She crossed her arms, a half-pout on her face.

"Me? No," Astarion said, feigning both seriousness and innocence, "I was just thinking lovely things about how cute and small you are."

Judgind from Calamity’s expression, she was ready to hit him.

"Hey, when did the two of you start being so close?" Shadowheart asked suspiciously. " Now you’re even talking and whispering."

"Awww, let them talk! They’re so cute, like a couple." Karlach, chuckled, seemingly enjoying seeing them like this.

Both of them looked up, denial and surprise evident on their faces.

"It’s either that, or you’re trying to make up for her brother's absence, which is kind of a... pathetic thing anyway." Much to their dismay, the cleric seemed as sharp as ever.

"Astarion and I just got a little closer as friends... what’s up? Is Shadowheart jealous?" Calamity teased.

"Only in your dreams." Shadowheart replied, rolling her eyes.

"You hurt me, Shadowheart, I thought you liked me." Calamity fake-pouted, though the beginnings of a smile were evident at the corners of her mouth.

"Don’t be dramatic, you silly." The cleric said amicably.

After all, Calamity and Shadowheart seemed to have had a good rapport from the beginning, and if she wanted advice or to clear her mind so she could plan more clearly, the other party members could be sure they would find the leader of the group talking to Shadowheart.

As they walked, Shadowheart pulled Calamity away from Astarion.

"What are you two hiding?" she asked.

"Nothing that is problematic in, I think..." She thought a little better. "I think it’s not problematic... at least not for me. Anyway! It’s a personal thing for him, and I promised that I would keep it a secret, and you better than anyone understands secrecy, isn’t that Shart?" The cleric sighed, mainly due to the fact that she'd used the nickname.

"Are you really going to insist on the nickname?"

"If you don't like this, I’m accepting suggestions! You know... you’re my first friend, and I know that nicknames are something affectionate..." Calamity’s cheeks flushed slightly."So... you can call me "Caly" if you want to."

"Oh, that’s a cute nickname. Your brother calls you that, I suppose."

"Yeah, you know, whenever he calls me by my name,I’m usually going to get scolded, or it’s something serious."

They talked for a while as they made their way back to the camp.

Maybe it was because of the awkward encounter with the Gur or just his mind dragging him back into misery to remind him not to relax, but Astarion had a nightmare.

The vampire from his trance after dreaming of Cazador meeting him in the forest. He was terrified of his desperate mind, and hunger tended to strike him as terribly and strongly as his fear did. He needed more strength, more power... he needed blood, not those animals he was taking, but someone. Astarion left his tent and began to think about who he should pay a visit to, but luckily for him, there was someone sleeping outside the tent tonight... It was Calamity.

She said she’d help him, so she probably wouldn’t be mad at him for that, right?

However, Calamity woke up before he could bite her, and stared at him, sighing in exasperation as she sat up on her sleeping bag.

"You know…” she trailed off. “I expected you to at least ask." Calamity paused, watching Astarion for a moment. " What happened? You didn’t get anything in the forest today?"

"I..." He was silent for a moment, thinking about what he would say. " I had a nightmare with my Master, he found me and I went back to the shadows... I need to get stronger, and the hunger… it’s consuming me."

She saw the despair in his eyes, in his expression… it was a despair she knew very well.

"I understand you, and you know I promised to help you and trust you,” she said, trying to reassure him.

"Can you trust me but a little more?"

" If it’s a bite you’re asking for, I don’t have a problem with that, but just…” Calamity paused. ”Don’t overdo it. Can you promise me that?"

"Of course,” Astarion replied, feeling the hunger gnaw at his stomach, “now, how about we get comfortable?"

"I think we’d better go to your tent." she suggested. "Better to prevent any accidents, I’d hate for someone to try to stake you."

"You’re right, of course,” Astarion chuckled. “Can we?" he reached out to Calamity,who gladly accepted his hand.

So silly. She trusted him so very easily…was it really so easy to conquer someone like her, just like that?

As soon as they entered his tent, Calamity just watched everything quietly, as it was messy; the empty blood jars and the wooden tablet on the floor... He didn’t seem very comfortable.

"Wait a moment." Astarion took some pillows and a sleeping bag,quickly preparing a bed for her. "Much better."

"Why don’t you do it for yourself when you get some rest?" An innocent question from Calamity, but it hurt, somehow.

Astarion ignored the question, making her sit in the sleeping bag accommodating her.

"How do you want to do this?" Calamity asked almost automatically, her eyes wide.

"Well…” Astarion paused. “Are you afraid?"

"Of being bitten by a vampire? Honestly, I’m not afraid. I can’t explain it, but it seems natural to me..." Calamity said softly, her expression thoughtful.

"Have... you ever been bitten?" Astarion was intrigued by her perspective.

"If I was, I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything before I was 10 years old, and there are things I just know."

"No memories, but her subconscious remembers information it needs, so to speak..." he muttered, more as an observation to himself. "Well, whatever’s most comforting to you."

Calamity just grabbed her hair that was loose, moving to lie on a pillow leaving her neck easily accessible to him. Astarion then positioned himself on top of her calmly, watching her features. She stared serenely waiting for him... so soft, so inviting.

He slowly approached, placing his hand behind the back of her neck, then he finally set his fangs and bit down, feeling the blood flow into his mouth.

The taste was... something he himself could not explain, it was coppery, savory, and sweet as vanilla, but had something more full-bodied, dense, strong... powerful. It was intense and addictive, and the more he drank, the more his desire increased. Meanwhile, Calamity felt pain, but also something completely new, unique; she could feel her blood flow from her body to his... but even after that, there was still something more.

Something asleep inside her that began to stir, deeply. Calamity grabbed the fabric of his shirt, trying to something, but Astarion couldn’t make out the words. He lifted her body, embracing her waist as her grip on his shirt tightened, her voice rising again.

"A-Astarion... please... stop." She pleaded with him, her vision blurred, her tone exhausted, weak even.

Astarione realized he may have gone overboard, detaching himself from her neck immediately, but he kept holding her in his arms...saw what he did to her.

"Calamity?! Hey, don’t sleep!" he demanded, hiding his nervousness.

"Calm down, I won’t close my eyes." Calamity’s voice was weak and her eyes looked heavy, yet she still tried to reassure him...

To Astarion, her skin looked paler than before, and the blood was still flowing from the bite on her neck. Astarion then licked the blood that was dripping from the punctures,laying her down carefully.

"That - that was amazing. My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy." Astarion said as he stroked her face. "This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it."

Exhausted and drained, Calamity chose to just accept the affection willingly.

"I’m happy to help... is it a bad thing if I fall asleep? I feel so... tired."

Her breathing was heavier, and Astarion feared that if she slept, her heart would stop beating. An irrational fear, perhaps, but a fear nonetheless.

"You know, darling, maybe it’s a little dangerous if you sleep." He sat next to her.

"Are you afraid I’ll die?"

"Well, if you die after letting me drink your blood, I don’t think others will see it in the right light…it would at least be a stake in my chest."

"Do you think someone like me would die so easily?" Calamity questioned, slightly turning her face to look at him.

"Would you be offended if I said that at this moment you seem very fragile?"

"No…” she trailed off drowsily. “Am I delusional, or do you look worried?"

"It’s kind of hard not to be a little worried right now." Astarion admitted, concern laced into his voice.

Calamity smiled when she heard those words.

"You know, I’m gonna need to sleep sometime."

"Then, please drink a healing potion before closing your eyes." Shuffling about, Astarion quickly took a jar from somewhere–she couldn’t tell where.

Calamity raised her head high enough to be able to drink the potion without problems. Astarion helped her, of course, and then laid her down again.

"Will you rest too?" she asked.

"Not yet, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more… filling."

Astarion left her in his tent and ran into the forest, the truth is that he was hungry in a different sort of way.

"Gods... any more and I would have devoured her." He muttered, feeling heat begin to simmer beneath his skin, feeling the tension pooling in his groin.

When he returned to his tent, Calamity was still there, seemingly in a deep sleep. He laid down beside her, but much to his surprise, she was awake, turning towards him and open her eyes.

"Are you tired?" She asked.

"I’m still far too awake to go into a trance now." He sighed.

"I can sing, to help you relax." she suggested.

"What? Will you put me to sleep with a lullaby?" He joked, looking mischievously at her.

"Well, it’s a unique offer." Calamity hummed.

"In that case…” Astarion paused. “How could I say no."

Calamity began to sing; a soft and beautiful melody, but the music hit Astarion in a way he would never have imagined.

"Light is not a salvation, the shadows are,

Your place isn’t in the light but you still miss it;

Blood calls you, so don’t hold on,

I will accompany you; wherever you go, I will be by your side.

This moment is our eternity,

Don’t think about tomorrow or the next century;

Just stay in this brief moment by my side,

I’ll be yours until I die.

You don’t belong to the light,

The darkness in you that even the brightest light can’t illuminate;

For some reason I am drawn to this darkness, I can’t help it,

It ‘s the darkest part of my soul taking a breath from this welcoming darkness."

It seemed to Astarion that this song was made for him, as the lyrics made every part of his being tremble, even down to his soul.

"Darling... where did you hear that song?" he asked perplexed.

"I don’t know, I don’t remember. But this song is recorded in my heart, I sang it whenever I felt lonely and helpless. It was my hope and my comfort, so I hope she will give you some of that comfort and hope Astarion." She smiled and stretched out her hand shyly to him.

Astarion was still atonite, he didn’t know what to think or what he was feeling... but this is nice, why not? He held her hand and she continued to sing to him.

"So I took her in,

I took you in,

If it’s my blood you want, I’ll give it to you;

If it’s my life you want, I’ll give it to you;

I’ll give you everything, down to my soul,

This moment is our peace,

This moment is our redemption;

Let me stay with you in this darkness,

This is our eternity, my love."

He listened to the end, his mind slipping gently into a trance. Upon seeing him relaxed, Calamity finally gave in to sleep too, whispering to him before slumber took her...

"Sweet dreams, Astarion."

Well that’s it! Thank you for reading the third chapter.

@spacebarbarianweird @spacesquidlings @thechaoticdruid @vixstarria

Who wants to be tagged in the next chapters please tell me in the comments.

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mllemaenad · 4 months

Text

Right, well, I wanted to write, so I'm going to do that, even if my wrists hurt. Things I will pay for later, but make me feel better now.

Have now listened to episodes 1 and 2 of The Magnus Protocol.

My first impression is that this is much worse than what was going on in The Magnus Archives.

The Magnus Institute was a private institution with no obvious access to other people's information (Magnus's occasional psychic spying notwithstanding). Most information it received seems to have at least been given willingly. There are a handful of instances of John forcing people to talk, yes, but not so many that I am constantly concerned for the privacy of London's citizens. Gertrude is said to have disliked compelling people to talk (Family Business), so while her tally very likely exceeds John's purely due to the length of time she was in the job, it's still probably not very high. It's impossible to account for the behaviour of previous archivists of course but, well, the whole place is set up to entice people in to tell their tales. I would hazard that most of the materiel in the archives was volunteered.

Even in cases where someone was forced – at least they knew about it, because they were there. The lady in Scrutiny who was so deeply disturbed by John's behaviour was also able to make that behaviour stop just by rolling up to The Magnus Institute and reporting it – which is a reasonably straightforward outcome, given the general weirdness of their world.

I don't mean to say that The Magnus Institute didn't do harm – it very obviously did. But even in terms of its final apocalypse, we're looking at a horror that lasted mere months (assuming a passage of time that broadly corresponds to the broadcasting schedule) before a group of disgruntled employees (and Georgie) burned the nightmare tower down, stabbed Magnus and reset reality. There were limitations to The Magnus Institute's reach, and Jonah Magnus's personal ambitions concluded with an utter, embarrassing flop by any reasonable estimation.

Here, though, you're looking at a government department with truly concerning access to people's data. The forum-based statement in First Shift is perhaps not too awful (forum threads can often be read by anyone, even if actually posting requires an account), but the earlier piece regarding the bereaved woman was a private email thread, and the story in Making Adjustments is drawn from a recording of a woman's session with her therapist. Sam calls out the massive invasion of privacy this sort of thing entails, but is shut down on the grounds that it's fine because they "work for the government".

Alice Ok, so looks like it's an email. Sam And I just… read it? Is that even legal? Alice Probably. We do work for the government. Sort of. Sam What about GDPR? Alice Look, Sam, I don't know what to tell you. This is the job. I've been doing it for years and there's never been any problems. Maybe ask Lena? She’d probably know. – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift

While it is too early to definitively establish the worldbuilding rules here:

In The Magnus Archives, giving a statement was functionally feeding an eldritch power

Gertrude Robinson took statements, but kept the archives themselves in a state of disarray, to impede Magnus's plans (Dwelling)

Much of The Magnus Archives played on the difference between knowing a thing and understanding it

The characters in The Magnus Protocol are not just collecting, but blindly categorising statements – they are organising them by keyword, but not encouraged to analyse what they see or hear – Alice notes that they are paid not to care (Making Adjustments)

At least in The Magnus Archives, making a statement tended to come with consequences: typically horrifying recurring nightmares

So you have to wonder – what consequences will there be for these people, who have had their stories stolen from them?

In terms of workplace horror, this is very much coming at it from the opposite direction. The Magnus Archives was about the horrible job you couldn't quit. Most people find themselves stuck in these for economic reasons rather than supernatural ones, although in fairness both Martin (Children of the Night) and Melanie (Dig) are explicitly called out as very much needing the work, but the characters are nevertheless stuck and constantly call back to the fact that they would absolutely quit – if only they could.

It ran on punishing hours and constant exhaustion, the expectation that you would take on tasks you were in no way qualified or trained for (this started with "archiving" and escalated quickly to "apocalypses"), the boss who expected you to "just know" things you couldn't possibly know at all, and a soul destroying amount of responsibility with little hope of advancement. The same person ran the institute since its founding, literally consuming his employees along the way, and if you wanted, say, to be Head Archivist, you were very much stuck waiting for the current occupant of the role to die.

It is significant that, with the noted exception of Eric Delano, all of Gertrude's assistants died on the job (some of them by her hand), and tallying John's assistants is a bit like listing off the wives of Henry VIII: dead, dead, dead, divorced, survived, status unknown. While the story leans on deaths for drama, it gets a lot of mileage out of using historical data, so characters stick around. It's weird for them to be actually gone.

The Magnus Protocol opens with Teddy quitting the OIAR to take a job in insurance. The very first thing you learn about this place is that people leave, and this idea is reinforced a number of times even in the first two episodes: Gwen is pressured to resign by Lena because she is "difficult", and Lena notes outright that, for most people, this job is strictly short term:

Lena Hmmm. I’ve always known you thought you were slumming it down here, but I never actually considered you might think of this as the first step of a career. Most people simply move on within 12 months or so. Gwen I’m not most people. – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift

Moreover, Making Adjustments concludes first with a fraught conversation about possible redundancies and then with Alice accusing Sam (however playfully) of looking to "jump ship" when he's seen researching The Magnus Institute.

This is the horrible job you might lose tomorrow. While the threat in The Magnus Archives was that you were probably going to die in this job, here it leans more toward – if you didn't show up tomorrow, who would question it? People leave.

It is a night shift, for no clear reason – they're doing data entry on what definitely looks like non-essential information so why the hell can't they do that in the day? Employees are not encouraged to think about their work, and Gwen is criticised for favouring accuracy over speed. It is grimly impersonal, and what little solidarity there is appears to be hard won; it's noted, for instance, that Colin is really only social with Alice, and Alice seems committed to team camaraderie.

But above that is the sense that the employees are considered too insignificant to participate in what is really happening here. I mean, among other things, Colin seems to be having a wildly different workplace experience to everyone else.

Alice postulates that they are a fossilised department – one that only really exists because it's been forgotten – although even she notes that the theory only works if you don't poke at it too hard:

Sam I've no real idea what the OIAR even is. Alice You and everyone else. I’ve checked and there's not really much info on it. My current working theory is that maybe it got set up in the 70s, back when everyone was off their tits on LSD and giving ghost-hunters massive grants to wave crystals in graveyards. I reckon at some point they must have put together a small government department to, like, oversee the spending and monitor this stuff and no-one's noticed it's still going. Sam Makes sense. Alice As long as you don’t pay too much attention. – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift

Even if that is a bit extreme, the general consensus is that their work goes nowhere and does nothing. Which fits broadly with the general lack of action and urgency in the department ... unless you happen to be Colin.

Alice Colin! There’s my guy! How's it hanging? Is it an app yet? Do we have a minimalist logo? I assume you’ve finished all the social features? Colin Don't you start. I swear I'm going to shove a cable down that prick's throat, pull it out his ministerial anus and floss him to death. ... Teddy Colin, mate, you know you’re never getting out of here. Colin Christ, don’t say that. Teddy Even if his nibs lets you off the hook, which he won’t, you couldn’t bring yourself to just leave. Not 'til you’ve figured out all these fun little errors. Colin Or they finally kill me. ... Colin I already have to explain to some chinless inbred politician that we’re running on something as old as the goddamn Atari Falcon, now I’ve got some green little smartarse giving me lip for it too? Well you can take your funny little lines and shove them up – – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift

Colin, specifically, is suffering from ministerial oversight. A lot of it, apparently. Departments that only continue to exist because they've been forgotten don't typically have the responsible minister leaning on the IT manager. Not even on the boss – the IT guy. It's interesting because his specific level of stress and frustration seems more consistent with what was going on in The Magnus Archives than here.

And then, of course, there are the stories themselves. It's impossible not to note that the text-to-speech programs sound an awful lot like the protagonists of the previous series. Presumably this is plot relevant, or else it's a really distracting choice. It's impossible to state at this stage whether that means it actually is them or not, but assuming for the moment that it is (because it is not interesting to discuss other possibilities until they become interesting) then what they have to say seems noteworthy.

They are presumably reacting to Sam specifically (welcome to the cursed protagonist club, new guy!), possibly to the box he ticked during onboarding, and likely to whatever past trauma led him to this job in the first place. And both seem to be issuing a warning.

Norris/Martin tells a story that Gwen classifies as "reanimation", but I admit I'm not sure I agree. The thing sounds like an iteration of the Anglerfish monster.

Norris/Harriet Winstead “Arthur? Is that you?” And that voice I have loved for twenty years answered: “Some of him.” – The Magnus Protocol: First Shift

Archivist Are you the same Sarah Baldwin that disappeared in Edinburgh in August 2006? Sarah Some of her. Skin. A few memories. Not on the inside. – The Magnus Archives: Return to Sender

That feels at least in part like an Easter egg – no newcomer is going to recognise the Anglerfish – but it is the crossing of the boundary: this is the first true story they heard, and proof that there is something very wrong with the world. And presumably the themes of grief and loss that pervade the story would relate pretty strongly to Martin's whole ... situation. I'm assuming nobody here chose to be a text-to-speech program.

Chester/John, meanwhile, issues a fairly stern warning about The Magnus Institute. The canary in the coal mine is a bit on-the-nose as a metaphor, sure, but if I were trying to explain to someone what was wrong with that place, I would likely also be blunt. The rough thing, though, is that quite explicitly no one heeds the warning: while the "removed" image is not described it pretty clearly illustrated RedCanary's fate. It's not just that the canary died down the mine. It's that it died in vain, because no one understood what killed it. And of course, it does pique Sam's interest to the point that he starts digging in to what happened. I'm disinclined to believe that curiosity is bad in these stories – if anything, John's issue was that he could never find out the things he needed to know fast enough to make a good decision. But there is a point there ... if you start looking into things, you have to be prepared to deal with them.

The third one, in Making Adjustments seems to be playing somewhat on The Picture of Dorian Gray: Sam and Gwen start the episode by doing practice runs on classification using classic horror, and the story, when it begins, draws on that confusion between art and subject. You can line Dorian up beside Dracula and Frankenstein any day. But the bigger point seems to be that the catalyst for this happened on camera:

Daria Before I could reply they hit a button on their set-up and suddenly we were live streaming with lights in my eyes and their arm tight around my shoulders. I don’t remember much of what they said to their viewers, but they kept telling everyone how lucky I was whilst they dragged me into the chair. – The Magnus Protocol: Making Adjustments

There are nested violations in this story: Daria expected a photo shoot, but at no point agreed to be tattooed on camera. Beyond that, the story she told in private to her therapist is now being recorded and catalogued by the OIAR. And whatever happened to Daria, this "Ink5oul" person seems to have profited by it, and by things like it.

I must admit, I'm not much of a "what entity is this" person, because as far as I could tell the general consensus on that in general fell between "that's arbitrary" and "all of them, probably, if only by their conspicuous absence". That sort of thing is very useful when talking about the people and their particular obsessions – if Simon Fairchild turned up, for example, you knew exactly what sort of aggravating bullshit you were in for – but worrying too much about the exact nature of a supernatural manifestation rarely leads anywhere useful.

I am more interested in the broader implications of how the story is told. In The Magnus Archives, the characters read the stories aloud – and usually adopted the persona, and sometimes even the accent – of the original statement giver. That had supernatural implications, of course, but also played into the broader themes of the story: John is very much invested in the individuals. The tragedy of Jane Prentiss, the mystery of Gertrude Robinson – these are his obsessions. Pretty much the only point he scores in his conversation with Leitner (The Librarian) is being able to instantly spot a passing reference to Gerard Keay: John is crap at the cosmology, but he's been paying attention to the people. Many of the recurring characters are very dead by the time the story starts, but they are kept alive in the narrative because the living characters step into their shoes, and care about what they did and what became of them.

Here, though, there is built in distance between the active protagonists and the individual horror stories. They largely don't even read them – Alice says she "skim(s) the case for keywords" (Making Adjustments) and otherwise tries to ignore what is happening. When a story is read aloud it is done by the text-to-speech programs, and they, as John and Martin did, adopt the personas of the authors in a way that sounds much more fluid than software from the 90s should be capable of. When the story comes straight from the source, it is not told to Sam or Alice or Gwen, but to someone else entirely. There is a reason for the audience to connect with the stories – from that external perspective you're getting pretty much the same thing you did in The Magnus Archives – but the actual characters have no reason to connect, or even to truly listen or empathise with what they're hearing, and doing so is regarded as a mistake.

Which makes you wonder – what might you miss when you're not paying attention to the people?

#the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #the magnus archives

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tetsunabouquet · 1 year

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Hello! Would you like to write something where the kuroko no basket boys (aomine, midorima and Wakamatsu and Imayoshi) are caught on a date with they’re girlfriend and they see there friend act so sweet and gentel with her.I hope that you would like something like this.

You can chose the characters ofc if you dont like then or feel like someone else! Have a good day 🧍🏻‍♀️

Date Night Interupted

A/N: Hereby, a drabble dedicated to each of the 4 boys requested. I hope you all like it! I haven't covered Imayoshi and Wakamatsu in a headcanon or story yet, so its my first attempt at writing their characters.

Midorima

Midorima watched you as you tried hard not to laugh too loudly after he had whispered in your ear; "It's surprising how alluring you can be covered in ketchp." You couldn't with this guy. Who knew the person screaming about being a Cancer, is indeed a cancer and not a tsundere? Once you cracked his crabby shell, he was all mushy and adorable towards you when the two of you spent time together. He was far from a tsundere-like boyfriend, and could be incredibly cheesy from time to time. He kept this side of himself a secret, except to you and his family. Sometimes, you just melted at how cute he could be, or that fuzzy feeling he gave you. You smiled broadly at his sweet smile, eating at the park nearby the Maji Burger; the two of you had taken your order with you to have a picnic in the park. As you fed him a fry, you couldn't help but notice a shadow suddenly looming over you. The two of you looked up, you couldn't help but have your stomach sink. Takao. Takao was crashing your date. You hadn't met him yet as you didn't wanted Midorima to end up getting teased for his romantic side but you had watched their matches plenty of times and could recognize him clearly. "Eeeeh, you're on a date, Shin-Chan?" Takao asked, looking at you as your boyfriend's face flushed. "You're L/n F/n, right?" He asked you kindly, and you were surprised at how gentle the demeanor of the usual upbeat, energetic looking guy was. "Yeah," you replied, a bit embarrassed. "I hope Shin-Chan told you how nice you look. I'll leave you two lovebirds for today, okay?" He said, backing away slowly. You were even more surprised at how respectful he was currently acting. 'Perhaps going public with Shintaro isn't going to be as embarrassing as I thought it would go for us.' You smiled back a bit nervously, and was met with an encouraging smile of your boyfriend's BFF. Yeah, not that embarrassing. "See you on monday, Shin-Chan, F/n-san!" Your smile widened, and your boyfriend let out a small sigh of relief at Takao's retreating form. "Thank god he is gone already, nanodayo." You giggled and leaned against him, and Midorima pulled you close. Not minding if your ketchup stain was now ruining his shirt too. "Well that went well, didn't it?" "At least it wasn't Kise." Midorima mubled before kissing you on the forehead and you giggled once more, completely warm with the fuzzy feeling Midorima gave you.

Imayoshi

"Sometimes, it almost gets annoying how you read others so well." You sighed. Often, words weren't needed when you were dating Imayoshi. It felt great to have such a connection, but it irked you from time to time that you couldn't talk about something simple without Imayoshi immediately knowing. "I know, but the fire twinkling in those eyes is too beautiful to apologize for." He teased, kissing you softly. This was also typically Imayoshi, the guy who knows exactly what to say and do, to make your frustration melt like the sun. Because he doesn't simply reads people and does what annoys them, he can also use it to do exactly what you need. It's why he was such a great captain. "I'm sorry for interrupting something interesting." You nearly fell backwards, if it wasn't for Imayoshi's hold on your waist. You looked up to see Yoshinori Susa, Imayoshi's closest friend on the team, "oh sorry, I hadn't meant to scare you, l/n-san." "It's okay." You replied kindly. "I do hope you have a meaning for this." Imayoshi stated, looking composed but you knew he was slightly irritated at the interruption. "I really am sorry. It's just I got my college applecation letter back, and I just wanted to tell you I got accepted." Imayoshi's mood melted and he smiled at his friend's good news, whilst you beamed at Susa. "That's great! I'm happy for you." He smiled softly and thanked you. "That's indeed good news. Are you planning to join the basketballteam?" "Yeah, Kotegawa already mentioned my name to the coach." He said, and you vaguely remembered him as a senpai who had been a part of the To-Oh basketballteam the year before. "I cannot wait to play against you." Imayoshi stated, and Susa's smile widened. "I can't either, but I'll see you at school. I think there's a lady who deserves your attention more then I do." Susa left with a kind smile, and you politely waved after his figure. Imayoshi tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "I'm glad we both got accepted in the same college." "Me too," you breathed. You, as well, certainly couldn't wait for college.

Aomine

Your boyfriend had his arm slung around your shoulders whilst the two of you were walking down the street. The well-lit shops all colourful and bright, tempting customers to take a look inside. Music and the buzz of people making it even livelier. The two of you were going shopping and dinner later. Aomine decided it the moment you talked about needing to buy a new dress for your aunt's 50th birthday party, to apologize for your previous getting getting cancelled; he had been injured at a basketball game and had needed to rest. You liked how Aomine never forgot about you, but to him, you were just as important as basketball. As you stepped into your favourite store, it didn't take long to see a familiar pink haired girl, hanging onto the arm of another blue haired male. Momoi and Kuroko, on a date just like the two of you. You giggled as she spotted you, pulling Kuroko alongside her. "Hey, Dai-Chan, f/n-chan!" She chirped, as Kuroko besides her gave off a warm, serene vibe. "Yo Satsuki, Tetsu," came Aomine's greeting. "Hello Satsuki-san. It's nice to officially meet you, Kuroko." "Likewise," came his reply, giving you a small smile. "You here on a date too?" Momoi asked. You nodded and Aomine smiled at you. "Sheesh, I cannot believe you didn't told me." Momoi sighed. "I didn't knew I was obligated to share every bit of my love life with you." That made Momoi pout. "Satsuki, I think Aomine wants to have some privacy during his date." Kuroko kindly supplied, and your boyfriend shot him a grateful look. "Alright, but f/n-chan, do spill everything later." Momoi suggested with a wink and you chuckled. "Sure." You supplied, to which it was your boyfriend's turn to sigh. You giggled as you burried your face into his chest, and slowly, Kuroko pulled Momoi away, trying to talk to her about a shirt he saw that would look very cute on her. "He's a nice one, huh? Good for her." You said, smiling at the couple. "Yeah, Tetsu's apparantly quite the keeper." Aomine stated, before guiding you to the section of formal wear and evening attire. "You are too, you know that right?" You asked him sweetly, and Aomine grinned. "Obviously, I do babe."

Wakamatsu (He doesn't has any canon friends, so I decided to do this instead).

You and Wakamatsu had just taken your assigned seats at the cinema. It featured your favourite actor, so Wakamatsu decided to buy you two tickets and surprise you with them after his game the other day. You had been overjoyed, and you were giddy with excitement as you sat next to your tall boyfriend. After already impatiently stealing a hand of popcorn from the large bucket the two of you had bought for yourselves, your boyfriend next to you froze. As you peered over his tall stature, you could see Aomine sitting down next to him. "Eh?!" Wakamatsu grumbled. "Relax captain, I'm just sitting at my assigned seat. Don't mind me, enjoy your date." He said, surprisingly politer then usual. "I didn't saw you as the type to enjoy these movies." Wakamatsu stated, the dislike still filling his voice. "Mai's in it." Aomine declared. Wakamatsu huffed, but didn't say anything. Thank god the trailers started. As the movie began, you and Aomine were quick to start acting like fans, and Wakamatsu just looked at your enthusiastic face with a smile. The movie went on, and you grew more engrossed in the story, not noticing how your boyfriend's eyes hadn't left you for a single second. And, as the character portrayed by your favorite actor was shot and died at the climax, he wrapped his arm around you as you cried. His hand comfortably rubbed your upper arm, soothing you. You leaned against him as the movie finished, taking in the scent of popcorn and his cologne. Aomine stood up, waving towards the two of you, not having directed a word against the two of you before the trailers started. "I hope your date ends well, good luck." He said, in an encouraging, friendly manner before walking away. Wakamatsu stared at him dumbfounded and you giggled at the expression. "He's still a pervert though. Stay away from him." Wakamatsu muttered, to which you replied with throwing a handful of popcorn at him. "I'll do whatever I want to do. Be civil, my love." You asked as you gave him your big puppy eyes. Wakamatsu groaned. "Fine, but for you baby." "That's more like it!" You said, before you pecked him on the lips. "You're so lucky that you're so cute." Wakamatsu teased as he fed you a piece of popcorn. You winked in return, before the two of you went to his father's car that he was allowed to borrow, taking the remains of the popcorn with you to consumne during the trip. The date ended well indeed.

#knb #knb x reader #wakamatsu kosuke #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi shouichi #wakamatsu x reader #midorima #midorima shintaro x reader #aomine #aomine x reader #momoi #kuroko #kuroko's basketball #takao #susa yoshinori #date #date crashing #friends

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aaronsrpgs · 7 months

Text

I've been working on the encyclopedia for SpeedRune, my rules-lite ancient world fantasy game. Here's the intro and some of the entries.

On Grazing & Shepherding

Being a failed guide to raising sheep across the wide world

& also a failed guide for accurate information regarding said world

An Apology to the Reader: When we sent our missionary, laden with food and gifts, on a momentous journey to discover new ways of raising sheep, we hoped that we would compile their findings into a document both helpful & hopeful for any being across the vast flatness of our world who, like us, takes joy in the labor involved in the raising of sheep, preparation of wool, and cooking of mutton.

What we got instead was a plagiarized & bowdlerized document, mostly taken from the poet Erlo, who himself was a collector of tales from thieves, outcasts, bards, and other untrustworthy types.

It is with great shame that we release these notes to the sheep-raising public, only because we made an oath. One hopes that enterprising shepherds might find, with devoted digging, some useful sheep-raising facts herein. However, it is our firm belief that everything presented here is a fabrication.

Our missionary has been branded a traitor and heretic, and their name has been removed from all records; they have been sent forth to survive on what fodder they can find.

In our failure,

The High Council of the Church of the Sheep God

A Plea from the Author

Ere, I was wont to think in bursting poems.

Regarding everything I write: it’s true.

Lo, though I may be punished for my tomes,

Often the writing’s harder to subdue.

- , missionary of the Sheep God

The heretical missionary’s name has been stricken from this work by the order of the Sheep God’s Grand Priest.

Angel

A sort of spirit or small god that lives inside us and is also a part of us, like the stomach or like spit. There is much debate about its purpose.

Some believe that the angel helps us discern what is best for ourselves and our people. This is alternately called moral behavior and selfishness. Some angels believe one should do right no matter who is watching, and failing to do so is called sin. Other angels only encourage righteous behavior in the eyes of the other, and the opposite of that is known as dishonor.

Others believe that angels come in many types: good, bad, childish and petulant, old and reserved. Some people are born without an angel or have theirs driven from them by a curse.

What is agreed upon across the world is that our urges and inner voices come from our angel, and when we die, the angel dresses up in whatever is left of us and goes to the underworld or haunts the place we perished.

Gender

For each person in the flat expanse of the world, there are at least two beliefs regarding gender and sex. However, all civilized folk at least pay lip service to the following story:

While most gods were selfishly sporting and fighting after the universe came to be, the Earth God had created art. Her first art was the art of pottery, and she made eight great pots, each painted in eight mineral colors.

Next she created the art of cooking, and in a sacred iron pot, she kept a broth brewing. The other gods’ sporting and fighting left plants growing in footprints and animals springing forth from wounds. Their sporting and fighting also left crushed stalks and broken beasts, and the Earth Goddess collected these. She dropped roots and leaves, skin and bones, into the broth. Every eight days, she poured it into one of her pots. Then a new broth began.

The pots of broth were sealed and submerged in the Earth Goddess’s other art, which we call magic (but which is actually something else). After eight full moons passed, the Earth Goddess cracked each pot, and people poured out.

This is why we come in eight different shapes called genders (which, unlike most shapes, is a shape on the inside of us). The broths roil in us, salty and fibrous, but some are more hazy, while some have the clarity of golden water. (There is a tongue for every broth.) And the waves of magic (which is actually something else) and the changing light of the moon allow us to grow and change and settle like a tide, taking new shapes and lapping up new broth.

There are those who don’t believe this tale. Some demand nine pots and something other than broth in our veins, for the gods could not conceive of a world other than their own. Other nonbelievers are sad little almost-humans who history desires to overlook, only sometimes they gain power and money enough that others begin to believe their sad tales.

Horse

These animals were permitted only for the gods and their chosen servants. They ate the grass of heaven and could move like lightning. A clan of humans grew angry with the gods, though, and plotted to steal some horses for themselves. They creeped up to heaven on a ladder woven of hair (this was before heaven was sealed), and on seeing the perfect horses masticating upon the perfect grass, they whooped and laughed and jumped up on the animals.

The horses went wild, unused to the imperfect rumps that now sat upon them. They whinnied and ran, hooves kicking up the immaculate sod of heaven, and they ran and ran some more, until spit bubbled from their mouths and sweat coated their flanks. Many of them died right then and there.

The humans tamed the few horses that lived and rode them home. They hid the horses in a barn made of sod, so when the gods came by and asked if their horses had come through, the humans could say, “Look at our fields. There are no horses there.” So the gods left and the day passed.

At night, a powerful weeping came from the barn, and a chorus of pleas: “We are here! There is no fresh fodder! We are in a tight, dark place!” The horses could no longer remain silent. And the gods came down like falling stars and pulled the sod roof off the barn. Their horses huddled there, and the humans came out and professed ignorance.

The gods, being fickle and strange, cursed both the humans and the horses. “If you so desire these creatures,” the Wind God said, “let it be that you can never be apart from them.” And the humans and horses were joined into centaurs, which have the top half of a human but with the jaws of a horse, and the bottom half of a horse but with the rumps and feet of a human.

Perhaps once a generation, the centaurs birth a true horse, and this fine beast is usually destined to serve a hero. And there are rumors that other people, far away from here, know how to treat a horse, and they are allowed the privilege of keeping whole herds of them. But I’ve never seen this.

New Rune: Horse

Act between the seconds, interrupting someone’s intentions and moving faster than anything.

Move yourself and your allies across countless miles in hours or minutes.

Add +10 to a roll involving running or acting as a herd.

Sheep

The holy reason for this manuscript. Here is what is known about sheep:

They are superior to most animals because they provide food, milk, wool, and a ride (if they are big enough).

They understand human speech but they do not deign to speak it.

They worship all gods, so through honoring them, we honor all gods too.

Their mouths are mortars, their teeth are pestles, and their stomachs are ovens, so their wool will take on the properties of what they eat. Pine cones make it warmer, juniper lets air flow through, and duckweed makes it water-resistant.

Goats are a kind of sheep with particular devotion to the gods of salt and metal.

Alpacas are a kind of sheep with particular devotion to the gods of sun and sky.

If one can’t have children, it is often said that one should raise sheep.

New Rune: Sheep/Goat

Walk up a wall or cliff.

Chew through two inches of any material.

Add +10 to a roll involving blending in with others of your kind or discerning the location of a predator.

#speedrune #runequest #indie ttrpgs

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