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obey-me-disaster · 1 year

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Memories of falling stars

Synonpsis: Lucifer, as he falls from grace, starts to remember and look back at his life in the Celestial Realm, as the always sunny sky behind him turns into a dark one full of stars.

A/N: This is another piece for another Lucifer collab ^-^. Lowkey the reason I haven't worked on anything else besides exams coming up

As old as the universe and nearly undying, stars are there to watch as everything unfolds. Humans, demons and even angels, have their lives seen by them, especially the Morningstar himself.

???? Years Before The Fall

"Do you see it, Lucifer? The stars, the constellations, everything the night sky has to offer!" The archangel was looking at him, eyes full of excitement.

"It would be hard not to, when you have been dragging me down to the human world to note down constellations for your planetarium." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lucifer was trying to ignore his upcoming headache caused by the angel sitting right next to him.

For the past week, Michael has been dragging him down to the human in hopes of getting an image, as clear as possible, for the planetarium that he wanted to build in the Celestial Realm. The Celestial Realm had no nights or starry skies.

"You know, Luci, I am kind of jealous of your trips to Devildom in a way. That place has a constant sky full of stars that remain unbothered by the lights of the kingdom, unlike the human world." The archangel was gesturing vaguely around the empty hills. They were far from any human civilization. As far as the eye could see, there were only hills and forests.

"What did I say about that nickname?" Lucifer tried to give him an annoyed look but it went unnoticed by the other angel. "Also, if you're so jealous of my trips down to Devildom, maybe you shouldn't have pushed that responsibility on me."

Michael only hummed in response, too focused on looking up at the sky to pay any attention to Lucifer. "Such a shame that Orion, the hunter, is not visible in this period. Or, should I say, in this part of the human world."

He finally decided to turn his attention to Lucifer. "It wouldn't hurt to pay more attention to the sky in the Devildom on your next trip. Who knows, maybe I will also do a Devildom inspired planetarium." Lucifer just shook his head at the other angel's antics. "Maybe we should bring Raphael with us next time with us. We could go to the northern hemisphere to see Orion!" Michael said excitedly.

"I don't know how much will he appreciate getting dragged there to watch stars..." Lucifer pointed out what should be obvious.

"Perhaps, but even he can appreciate the story behind constellations. In particular the story of Canis Minor and Canis Major. They did make good hunting dogs for Orion, after all, and Orion never missed his target." Despite the smile on his face, Michael was surrounded by a dangerous aura, which put Lucifer off.

"Whether he agrees to it or not, we should probably head back to the Celestial Realm." Lucifer said, trying to put an end to whatever the archangel was doing. Whatever that feeling was, it sure was an untold warning for something in the future.

174 Years Before The Fall

Coming down to the human world was not something Lucifer had in mind, but he had to when all of his family kept on running away from their responsibilities.

"Look, I am telling ya, that's clearly Perseus! We have to look in that direction if we wanna see the meteor shower!" Mammon kept pointing out in the direction of the constellation, trying to prove his point.

"Could you be any louder? I know we are far from human civilization, but that's no excuse for yelling." Belphie argued back to his brothers. None of them could tell that Lucifer was just a few meters behind them and he didn't intend on revealing himself just yet.

"Besides, you're wrong. What you’re pointing at is the Andromeda constellation!! At least you got the direction of the Perseids close enough..." Belphie continued to argue.

"Now, now, guys, no need to keep on arguing, we came here to have a good time and watch the Perseids. So let's just sit back and enjoy ourselves" Lilith intervened, trying to calm her brothers down.

"Guys, I am starting to feel bad about leaving Lucifer behind. It doesn't feel right for all of us to be here while he’s still back in the Celestial Realm.." Beel looked in the direction of where they came down to Earth. If only he looked a little bit lower, he would be able to see Lucifer.

"I mean, it can't be helped. We ditched our responsibilities to come down here." Levi mumbled. "Even if he allowed us to put our chores for later, he’s still a seraphim! He’s way too busy to just come down to relax with us-"

"If all of you wanted to see the meteor shower so badly, you could’ve just told me from the start. I would’ve figured out something, so that all of us could’ve spent some time together." Lucifer interrupted Levi, finally deciding to come out of the shadows. It honestly hurt him a bit to hear how his younger brother talked about him. That he was far too busy to spend time with his younger siblings. Of course, he didn't express his feelings to any of them, especially when they were still screaming from being scared by his sudden appearance.

"How long have you been standing there?" They exclaimed, but he didn't really pay any mind to this question. Especially when he saw a Perseid from the corner of his eyes.

"For long enough. But now it's not the time to discuss all of this. The meteor shower is about to start." He sat down next to them on the grass, and pointed towards the Perseids that started to show up across the starry night.

All conversations ceased for the time being. They’ll have enough time to discuss things after the meteor shower had finished.

1 Day Before The Fall

I t was rare for rain to come down in the Celestial Realm, let alone one with lighting and thunder. And even if it did, it only happened in places outside of the grand palace. The storm caught everyone by surprise; angels were running left and right trying not to get their wings wet. They were all feeling rather uneasy with this sudden weather change. Everyone felt that something big was about to happen, but no one knew exactly when would this be or what would it be.

There were whispers and rumors about an angel that broke the rules, and was about to be severely punished, but everyone still felt like there was more to come.

Amidst the sea of angels that were seeking shelter from the rain or running to dry off their wings, it was all too easy to slip away from everyone without being noticed. Such was the case of Belphegor, who decided to sneak into the planetarium.

He would lie if he were to say that he couldn't sleep simply from the rain, but it's not like he could explain his feelings either. Lilith's judgment was about to come, and everyone hoped for the best.

Father surely wouldn’t harm her, right? Michael surely wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on her. Raphael wouldn't point his spear towards her… or maybe he would — he attacked angels for less. Every time he started to worry, he kept thinking about how Lucifer would not let anyone harm their younger sister. As long as their older brother was there to protect them and resolve this incident, nothing bad will happen… right?

He fell asleep at the thought of everything getting resolved, with the image of Lucifer talking some sense into everyone's heads. There was no need to worry, the Morning Star himself surely knows what to do. He couldn't wait until everything was over and everyone could go back to how things used to be.

Despite falling deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, he could still feel the presence of a certain angel, and how his 12 wings would drag on the floor as he put a blanket over him. The last thing he could remember was a hand brushing his hair away from his face. And so, two angels rested in the planetarium.

If both of them were to look at the planetarium’s ceiling right now, they would see Pavo, the peacock constellation. With the way the planetarium was moving, it shouldn't have been there, but from the moment Lucifer stepped into the room, and up until the moment he left, the constellation never left its place, up on the top of the planetarium’s ceiling.

The Fall

His wings were useless, all of them. What good was it to have six sets of wings, when at that moment they couldn't stop his fall. They couldn't carry on in his fight for his family, for his sister.

Since the moment he heard about Lilith's punishment, there was only noise. From the pleading of his younger brothers, to his screaming at his Father and the declaration of war, there was only noise. Weapons clashing, screaming and yelling about betrayals. He didn't even realize how much noise there was until everything went silent but somehow, that was still louder.

The only thing that he could feel was the pain all over his body, but it still didn't match his fury and his fear. Pure and genuine anger towards his Father, and fear for his brothers. He couldn't hear them and he couldn't see them. They were nowhere to be found.

The only thing that he could see was the vast sky changing its color. No longer was the bright blue sky with clouds as white as an angel's father surrounding him, but a dark sky full of shining stars. Stars that he recognized all to easy from his trips to the Devildom. Constellations such as Cruetum Sagitta, the bloody arrow, and Lapsus Bellator, the fallen warrior, were adorning the sky.

Bittersweet memories of helping Michael with his planetarium, star gazing with his brothers and spending time with his brother Belphegor under the starry night were flashing before his eyes. In that moment, he wished he didn’t know anything about the sky. It felt as if even the stars themselves were laughing at his and his family's fate.

He turned his attention back to searching for his siblings, even a glimpse of them was more than good, anything to know that they were at least alive. His wings were broken, and if it were up to him, he would rip them apart mid fall, but his eyes were still good, as along as he was still going he would continue to search for them. No reason to focus on things that were unnecessary at the moment.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He couldn't help but notice the way seven new stars appeared on the night sky. Each star for one of the angels that fell from grace that day. When did he even got so preoccupied with astronomy? He really spent too much time with Michael before the war.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me michael #obey me raphael #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me angel lucifer

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valentinaancunin · 2 months

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So hey I finally finished that story, I hope people enjoy it. Be mindful that I am NOT a writer but I'm proud of this story. THIS CONTENT IS MATURE, CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH, CHILD LOSS, AND GORE

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Background information on the future reading material

Hello! This is going to be some background on why I’m writing this, what inspired me, and how this is going to be portrayed. For starters, this is going to be a sort of fan fiction/character origin story prior to the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, a game inspired by D&D with roleplaying aspects and turn-based fighting. The character I am writing about is Theresa “Onyx'' Blackhand. Onyx hails from the colder northern region, Icewind Dale. She lived in a small rural area called Aneira with her adoptive brother, Tanith, and her mother, Eulalie. The year is 1490, two years before the events of Baulder’s Gate 3, and it is set in the height of winter, a rather awful blizzard is running its course through the town and our adventurer is going to see the apex of nature's wrath. This story is going to be told in the eyes of our main character, of course.

Some background on me, the writer (who isn’t the best at writing). My name is Ava but I go by Valentina online and I am an artist and dungeon master! D&D has inspired a lot of what I do and the media/games I play, and in general, has changed my life for the betterment of my creativity. The Baldur’s Gate community has given me so many amazing artists, writers, and players to be inspired by, not to mention the writers and actors who are in the game itself. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the inspiration of others, friends, and partners who encouraged me to pursue my passions of the fantasy and D&D worlds I’ve created. This is a test and dedication to the many more worlds, characters, and friends I’ll make along the way through shared interests. I thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my rambling and indulge in one of my favorite characters I have come up with, background, gameplay, and story wise.

Winter, 1490; A Warm Welcome

Howling, freezing wind cuts through me like a blade, cutting right through the layers of wool and hide I wear out in this tundra. My face is burning, hair covered in a thick coating of ice, sticking to my scalp and face like tree sap.

“Is this the clearing Tanith was talking about? This is awfully deep in these woods…” I said to myself, wondering how he could navigate through this storm. This winter has been worse than in seventy years, he shouldn’t be outside now anyways. Mother is getting worried sick about him. This is the third time this week I’ve had to dig him out of trouble, little wriggly worm he is. “Tanith? Tanith! Where are you? It’s too late to be outside, the storm gets worse at night!” I yelled out into the clearing, but my words were quickly snuffed out by the wind once again. Just as I was about to give up and find help, torch light shines through the clearing, Tanith standing there with that slimy grin on his face.

“I knew you would find me! Now c’mon, there’s something I want to show you!” he shouts as he darts off into the tundra again. I chase after him despite my skeleton shaking in this cold. Why is winter so brutal this year? Mother and Tanith have been acting strangely as of late. My heart is racing, where is he leading me? We finally stop running as we reach the top of a cliff, surprisingly high above the city below. The lights are mesmerizing, staring down into the flurry of snow and ice almost seems magical beneath the tons of houses and factories brimming with life.

“You know, I’m glad you dragged me out here. This is a wonderful sight to see” saying as I grab him into a side hug, holding him tightly for warmth and security.

“You really need to stop going out at odd hours of the night, Mother is getting worried sick about your habits as of late”

“I know she is but I’m restless! Being inside all day is no fun, and I can’t see friends through all of this snow! I can’t wait for winter to end” Tanith says in an unhappy huff, burying his face into my coat. There’s a certain unease in the air tonight when the wind stops blowing, it slowly wraps my heart in black tendrils and brings sweat to my brow.

“I know, I can’t either. Say, how about we go back home now? There’s still some sweet rolls left over.”

“There are? You didn’t eat them all?”

“Not yet!” I say, darting off in the direction we came, Tanith close behind. He passes me in just a few strides, the speedy bastard. He has always been fast, no matter if he’s carrying heavy wood or our mountain of a dog. We finally reach the back door of our cabin and burst in, letting out a sigh of relief as we feel the warmth of the fire seeping throughout the house. Mother is sitting by the fire, we startled her by bursting into the door unannounced.

“There you two are, I was getting worried sick! You look positively dreadful Theresa, sit by the fire.” Mother says, wrapping a wool shawl over my shoulders and gesturing towards the large wooden chair. Tanith joins me shortly, bringing a tray of sweet rolls with him. His eyes are glistening but something is missing, his usual spark of joy is no longer there. There’s something he isn’t telling me.

A dreadful proposal

We all retired for the night but I can’t sleep, my head is spinning and my heart is racing. Were the sweet rolls bad? Was I out in the cold too long? I can’t be sure, but time is at a standstill and I am tossing like mad. Minutes felt like hours but before I knew it, our front door swung open. Mother and Tanith weren’t awake, so it must have been the wind. I got up in a dizzying state and stumbled out of my room to close the door when I saw this man standing in the door frame, almost filling it out, the light from the fire making his features positively grim. His stature was sunken although he was built to the nines, his face looked like a husk of a man, his arms, big and dead, like a once mighty oak tree taken by rot and decay. Is this man undead?

He stood in pure silence as he took a step into my home, halfway to me already with his long stride, and stopped mere inches from me. I can see the whites of his eyes, or what would be white if they weren’t bloodshot and glassy. Finally seeing his face in the light, he was covered in blood. I tried to gain my composure quickly and grab something, anything, to hit him with, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and knocked me out cold. The next few hours I would fade in and out of consciousness, seeing snow pass underneath me, then cobble, finally back to snow. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m worried about my family. What has he done to them? Are they even alive? My head is pulsing with pain and heat, a roaring heat as if I were in the depths of Avernus. We were going uphill on rocky terrain, the dense wood of a carriage underneath me hits my bones with each bump like stone.

After almost a day had passed, I awoke in a chair, bound at my wrists and my ankles tied to each leg. Why am I receiving this punishment? Did I see something I wasn’t supposed to see looking over that cliff? I let the memory flood my mind and I couldn’t see anything but snow blowing across my vision and the twinkling of the lanterns below. Looking around the room, it’s more like a cell. A singular bed roll laid in a dark corner, a wash basin, and an old door, about to fall off its hinges if it took a single blow. The air is rather humid, thick with the smell of iron and wet stone. I look at my restraints and they seem simple to break out of, too simple, in fact. Just as I try to move towards a wall, someone walks into the cell. It’s the same man as before, but now I can see his face. Dirty brown hair, gray eyes that hold no glint of light in them, and a rather large nose, badly patched up after a break. His face screams a hard, tortured life.

Before I know it, he strides over and unties my restraints, grabs my arm tightly, and makes me stand. I tried to land a blow with my other arm, but he grabbed my fist in an instant.

“Who are you?! What have you done with my family?” I shouted, looking over this shell of a man. His body ached and creaked like an old house, and I can see the outline of his muscle and bone on every part of exposed skin.

“Mustn't talk, the Lord is waiting” he said with a deep voice, almost vibrating the air around him. There was something otherworldly about him. Is this the work of a necromancer? “He needs to see you. Your family is waiting.” he leans in, and whispers ever so softly “I don’t want to have to hurt you again, the Lord is making me hunt others for his game of cat and mouse.” His eyes finally have life to them, wet pearls of sadness and regret. His breath smelled of rot, his hair was as stiff as straw. How many others did he bring to this “Lord” he spoke of? What is going to happen to me?

With my arm still held by this undead husk, we walked a short distance to an audience hall. Decorated lavishly with gold and marble, red carpets, dark wooden chairs and tables, and statues of hardly clothed men and women, all eyeing a chair in the center of the room. I see them, my family, finally after what felt like an eternity. The stranger lets my arm free and I rush over to where they stand, clinging onto both my brother and mother so tight.

“Tanith… Aneira, I never thought I would see you again, where are we?” I glance above Mother’s head and see the snow building up through an unreasonably large window. The day is bright, almost blinding against the snow. I’m in familiar territory, thankfully.

“Theresa I hadn’t a clue where you were! I awoke to such an awful sound when those men came in and grabbed Tanith and I. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest. At least we have you now, my love.” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Just as this sweet moment couldn’t get any better, the double doors at the end of the audience room open, creaking and moaning with every movement.

“Ahh, these are our most esteemed guests then, hm? I was expecting more… hardened looking people for being a family of lumberjacks, afterall. My name is Lord Ransley, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man spoke, confident, dominant, and radiant. He was eyeing me curiously, looking for something within my appearance that I hadn’t a clue what he wanted to see. He carried a tome on his hip, lined in gold and the cover had a yawning mouth with a purple gem shoved into the center. This has to be the necromancer of the house, and apparently the Lord as well. Looking around again, the unseen halves of the statues were all bone and muscle remnants, real muscle and bone. The room stunk of decay and humid bodies. “You are rather extraordinary, you know? A half-elf with such muscle definition, tall stature, and eyes that hold the world within them…” Ransley says again, walking around me like a curious dog, grazing his hand over my biceps and back. I shift away from his touch, feeling a rush of cold go down my spine. He grabs a lock of my hair and shudders, as if he’s enjoying himself, pleasuring himself to my physique.

“What exactly are you looking for in me, your lordship,” I said harshly “and why knock out and kidnap my family, bring them to an unknown house, and gawk at them? Is this for your own sick pleasure?” I spat, locking eyes with this short statured freak.

“Ohh, feisty are we? Fret not, my large friend, I will answer your questions after you answer one of mine. Then you and your family will be able to go back home and live your lives as they were.”

He paces around me, studying my figure until he gets right in front of me and asks “Your father had something of mine that he stole, and gave it to you. That large steel amulet you wear, it belongs to me. I know what power it contains, and I know that you can’t live without it. How does having cold lungs feel, little love? If you give me back that necklace, I may just help you with your affliction, but if not… Well, your family is not going anywhere.” Little Love. The nickname dad gave to me. Hearing the words was like a sharp puncture in my diaphragm.

How does he know about my lungs? I’ve had this affliction ever since I was young, I caught a cold and since then I have had an icy cold breath that can freeze anything it touches. This amulet is the one thing that keeps me able to keep breathing without freezing the world around me. I can’t risk letting this go, even if it is Ransley’s. I have to figure out a way out of this house with my family. Ransley slips a hand to my neck and pulls the necklace out from under my collar, eyeing it lovingly. His breath is hot on my skin as he puts his lips to my ear and whispers “We can accomplish so much together, little love.”

“You want me to give up the thing that makes me able to breathe normally? Do you want your house to be in icy ruin?” I say, my anger rising with each touch and word he says.

“No, my dear, it would be a shame to see my lovely home go down. Are you really not going to give me back my possessions?” he says, taking a stride towards my family “Pity… I thought you would be smarter than this.” He walks up to Tanith, who is as white as snow, and puts a hand under his chin, studying his features.

“If you have a quarrel with me, then keep me here. My family doesn’t need to be a part of this. They never were in the first place.”

Aneira and Tanith are humans, they have lived only a fraction of the life I have lived. They deserve to live their lives to the fullest, I fear that Ransley is planning something drastic.

“Fine, if you will not give me that amulet, I will take it off of your corpse. You will make a fine addition to the many beautiful faces I have in my war room” he says, as he turns away to grab a sword displayed on a plaque behind a large chair. He touches the blade, running his fingers along the edge in ecstacy, as if he’s going to enjoy hurting me. Looking around the room, there are two guards. Easy targets, they aren’t as strong as me and they can barely hold the hammers they’re equipped with I think to myself. How are Aneira and Tanith going to escape? The double doors Ransley had previously pranced through is the only way out. I give each of them a shove. “Aneira, Tanith, run!!” I shout at them, darting for the hammer a guard is equipped with, knocking him on the floor with one shoulder charge. He falls to the floor, the flesh under his armor breaks off in chunks and his bones shatter once they hit the ground. More undead. Turning to face Ransley, he is running towards me, sword pointed towards me. I thrust my hammer and knock his sword off its course, and take a swing at him. I hear bones crack, it hits, by the Gods it hits.

After he gets his footing again, he steadies his gaze towards me, preparing for a swing. I brace and block his first blow, his arm going limp at his side. From his other sleeve, he pulls out a dagger and slices across my shoulder, a deep cut that would take a while to heal. I wince out in pain and his eyes light up like a fire. What a sick, twisted freak. With a one armed swing, I knock the dagger out of his hand and strike another blow quickly with my hammer. Something is welling up in my chest. It’s warm and radiant, I feel strength ebbing out of me.

“Listen to me, Lord, I have no clue why my father stole this amulet from you, but you aren’t getting it back. You threatened my family and my life, you have no right to hurt my family. I will end you swiftly and painfully, for you have no say in my fate!” I say, and as the words roll off my tongue, the hammer I wield is basked in a radiant light. Power. I feel power flowing through me, a divine power. Who granted me this power matters not, at this moment I have my opponent under my grip. Ransley’s arm is limp at his side, he still wields his sword in the other. He lunges at me, swinging his sword from above, I block with the handle of my hammer. Even with one arm, he is still rather strong. Taking a good look at his physique, he himself is partially undead, he has great strength but each blow he takes, he weakens. I fling him off with a side swipe and take a swing at his back, hitting his tailbone and knocking him on the floor. With one hand, I sit him forward and drop my hammer. Taking swings at him, my fists get coated in crimson. His breathing is shallow and slow, I drop him back on the floor with a loud thud and pick up the hammer. My breaths are short and icy, the coldness in my lungs is unbearable. Looking down at Ransley, I broke his nose and jaw pretty good. He won’t be standing up any time soon. His breathing is gargled and mashed, his windpipe must be broken. I need to let him suffer a slow death, choking on his blood and bile until his last breath exits his lips.

After leaving the audience hall and taking a look around, I find Lord Ransley’s room. In my search, I found his personal journal which reads “Barnes stole the Amulet of Curse Binding from me and gave it to his sick, weak daughter. Pathetic. If she is too weak to shake an illness, she is too weak to live. I will find him one way or another, our deal isn’t finished.” Deal? What deal had my father made? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t suspect that Ransley will recover from a crushed windpipe. Flipping through the journal, another entry catches my attention. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand, my bones are brittle and weak. My flesh is starting to fall off of me. Myrkul needs to hear his servant, to provide his blessing unto me.”I shudder at the thought of being an undead, having no control of the decay of your physical form while you remain conscious sounds like the ninth circle of Avernus. As I put the journal in my pack, that blinding light illuminates my vision again. A woman in white robes, with even whiter hair, stands before me.

“Child of light, I am the spirit Evangeline. You show great power in judgment and vengeance. I have imbued you with the divine power I once had. I propose an oath to you, an Oath of Vengeance, avenge those who have fallen to dark powers and dark people, cast out evil from this world in my name and spirit, oh divine vessel. Your hammer is your oath, and your divine being is my spirit. This is my word.”

She disappeared as soon as the last word was uttered from her mouth. Was this my purpose now? To purge the blights of evil from this world? I bolted out of the room and my head started spinning. I was too enthralled in a fight and forgot where my family had gone. Rushing through the seemingly endless halls of this house, I found more guards and the mysterious man who kidnapped us all waiting for me at the exit, my family lying on the floor. They peered up at me with glossy eyes, pleading for me to go and leave them to the guards. The mystery man tilted his head up and gave me a nod and after, he whips a sword out of his coat and stabs the guard on his left until he collapses to the ground. I take a stride and aim at the next guard rushing towards me, striking true to his jaw. It snaps in an awful, bone chilling sound and he kneels, screaming in blood coated words. With one hand, I take Tanith and the man takes Aneira.

We rush through the doors and the wind chill strikes all of us, a familiar and welcome feeling to that of the house of Ransley. Outside was still bone chilling, but it wasn’t the uneasy feeling inside that overly decorated audience hall.

“Onyx, what happened? Why does he want your amulet? What deal was that man talking about?” Tanith said, giving me a scared look. Something about his gaze is telling, like he knows what’s about to happen.

“I don’t know, but you remember why I wear it, right?”

“Yes, it keeps the cold away from you” he said, his face easing into a soft smile, but his eyes lack any reflection. What in the hells had they done to him in the time I wasn’t there to protect him? To protect Aneira?

I take a look at Aneira and she is as white as a sheet, her eyes fixated on me. I can’t see her breath in the air, is she breathing? I let go of Tanith and grabbed her, shaking her. “Aneira? Aneira! Listen to me! Are you alright, can you hear me?”I screamed, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes are still fixated where I was standing, she’s as cold as a corpse. I look at the undead man, and he looks just the same. Snapping back at Tanith, he is starting to freeze. “Tanith! Please, no! What is happening to everyone?!” I scream, looking back at the door to see a blood stained and cripled Ransley, holding a staff covered in arctic shards. Rage is overflowing again, seeing my family frozen to the ground, my second chance at raising a child has flown out the window. I won’t let him get away with killing what I love.

“You see, Onyx, this is what happens when you don’t give me what I’m rightfully owed!” he screams, waving the staff in a circular motion with his one good arm, bringing in more snow and cold. He is surrounded in an undead green light, the work of the God of Death. I should have broken both arms. I dart out of the blast radius before he unleashes a winter like I’ve never seen. One look back where my family stood and they were gone, frozen to the land they stood on. Aneira, Tanith, and this man who helped me without even knowing who I was. Gone. A rage like no other fills my senses as I take a look at the scrawny man in the doorway, ready to cast another spell. Hammer in hand, I run over screaming and jump, hammer overhead and ready to strike down on his head. As the hit lands, divine light shines and I see the whites of his eyes gleam one last time before his skull is split in two, mashed beyond recognition. I keep whaling on him, beating his skull in until it’s a mashed pile of bone, flesh, and blood.

I fall to the ground, crying so hard that I can’t see. My tears cling to my face as they freeze in this awful weather. How did this all happen so fast? How can I go home now, with so many memories of raising Tanith and aiding Aneira through her remaining years? The remaining hope I had for a family is now gone, frozen, and it hurts like no other pain I’ve felt before. I stare at Ransley’s corpse, wondering how he found me in the first place. The staff he wields even in death, it’s cold to the touch but brimming with the Weave. It’s a very powerful item, and I’m taking it as a reminder. A heirloom of a necromancer, the undead prick who stole my life in one day.

I’m coming home

I stayed at the Ransley estate for two days after the incident, seeking and searching for who he was and why he wanted this Amulet. I found out that Evangeline was his wife, who he murdered for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He logged his thoughts after he pleasured himself to her corpse, but he never turned her into one of his thralls. She was only, what seemed to be, in her early twenties from the pictures I found that weren’t torn to shreds. In the basement of this house was where she was kept, and still remains. Her hair as white as snow and she was dressed in white robes, as I saw her in my divine vision. The ground outside is too hard to dig for a grave, so I fashioned a small circle out of wood and carved a prayer into it. Wrapping her in a burlap cloth and laying her on her back, I placed the prayer on her and took a moment of silence. I did this for those outside as well, since I can’t give them a proper burial yet. These last two days have been rather gruesome and depressing, but I need to press on. I need to go home and set out on the quest Evangeline gave me to purge the world of evil.

I take what rations of food I can find, some clothing and furs as well, and set off back to the cabin. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far away from this estate. I didn’t even need to make camp and I made it back by dusk. The door was still swung open from when the undead man opened it last, the common area full of snow. My mind still wanders, what was it that Tanith was hiding? Throughout the whole ordeal, he was a husk of his normal, happy self. I may never know now, now that Ransley and his guards took away that young boy who I almost considered my son. My son? He might as well have been, I was there from the moment he emerged into this world from his late mother, who I never learned of other than when she was in labor with him. Aneira, the lady of this cabin, a seamstress who took care of me when I had no place to go after father died, is a frozen corpse. She took me in and treated me like one of her own, even though her own had already gone and made lives for themselves. Oh gods, if I ever run into them, how can I tell them of her fate?

I shut the door, its hinges almost froze over in my absence. Heading to the upper portion of the cabin, I feel that grip in my chest that I felt before. This isn’t some bad dream where I’ll wake up and they will be downstairs, making a fire and telling stories. I peer into my old room, everything is just as I left it. The furs along my bed still shifted off, the small shelf filled with books and trinkets I collected out in the dense forest. I grab a few sentimental belongings, books, and more furs and stuff them into my pack. Was this the only reason I had come here? I walked my way over to Tanith’s room, his room is in pristine condition. He had always been very neat, so it’s no surprise to me. His clothes are in a neat pile on a dresser, so small. He was barely twelve years old. I searched his room, trying to keep things as they were when he left them. I found a note stashed away in a book on dreams and premonitions. When had he gotten this? He usually only read memoirs on nature and animals, he wasn’t spiritual. Well, at least I thought so. I unfold the note and it’s addressed to me. Me? How? I begin reading his sloppy handwriting, and I get my answer. He knew how he was going to end, Aneira, too. He knew I would have been given the gifts of a Paladin from Evangeline. He wrote an excerpt on how this amulet protects me from cold spells, curses of the winter, and the inability to slip on icy surfaces. “I don’t understand how, but the amulet that you wear is filled with magic from a lady with white hair who keeps me safe at night. She isn’t a goddess or a human, something in between? I think so. Well, Barnes had stolen the amulet from someone named Ransley when he found the lady with white hair stowed away in the basement. The amulet has some of her power stored in it and whoever wears it will have their sickness or weaknesses taken away. There was someone who took care of her, a tall man named Marcus. She doesn’t talk about him much, but he has gray eyes. If you’re worried about me, I’ll be with Evangeline, so I’ll still be around! I love you, Mom”

Mom. He called me mom. Fighting tears isn’t possible anymore, they stream down my face as I clutch the note in my hand. This amulet has been imbued with the power of a demigod, Evangeline. She was a demigod? Ransley had kidnapped her and made her his wife. The undead man finally has a name, Marcus. I wish I had known this sooner, or else I would have carved that into his prayer. Tanith had been visited by Evangeline many nights before we had been taken away, he told her about the events that unfolded two days ago, and that he wasn’t going to make it. No wonder he hadn’t been himself, he knew his time had come. Marcus had been a caretaker to Evangeline, and that’s why she was locked away until she perished. He had also stood up to Ransley and failed, he got turned into his own personal thrall. Ransley’s staff has the power to dominate minds in a simple flick of the wrist. I wish I had known sooner, I wish I had known what Tanith was told. I could have turned the tides in our favor, maybe even saved everyone and just killed Ransley. He was never deserving of the title of Lord anyhow, he had servants through mind control and a very strong essence of undead power through Myrkul.

I fold the letter closed and clutch it to my chest, trying to stifle back more tears. Things could have been different if I had been awake earlier, if I had heard Aneira and Tanith walk downstairs to investigate the noises of Marcus breaking in. All of his life, I told him I was his sister. I never wanted to form an attachment like I did to my child, although she never lived long enough to see the light of day. It seems that him and I both grew that attachment towards each other, but reading “mom” at the end of that letter let's me know that I did my best for him. What’s done is done now, I can no longer regret the past. I set down the book, and turn away from his room. Walking outside again after grabbing materials and rations, I take one last look at the cabin door, pressing my hand onto the jagged wood. As my fingertips leave the wood, I turn and make my way to Baldur’s Gate city. Neverwinter is closer, but there’s more promise for me in the great gate. This is it, this is my destiny. This is the thing I had been longing for my whole life. A purpose with true direction, no longer am I just riding the waves of fate.

Five months later

I’ve made it to Rivington, a small area just outside of the Lower City. I finally made it out of the cold and harsh winter I used to live in. The warmth of this area is unfamiliar, the many layers I wear are beginning to be too warm. I have to figure out a place to stay.

After venturing a bit outside of Rivington, I found an abandoned shed. I set my pack down and make preparations for the night, which rolls in quickly. There’s a ladder propped up on the side of the shed and I climb up it. The stars shine bright tonight. Taking a look around, I spot the area of the cursed Shadow Lands, which fell to be that way over one hundred years ago. It gives me chills to even think of what lies in the depths of those lands. Turning away, I lay down on the roof of the shed and drift off to sleep. The city is just ahead, all I have to do is make my way there before I have no strength to do so. I can start anew, a new life and a new purpose. May my dreams take me to where I belong.

Dawn is slow to come, the sunrise coats the land in a lush light. The green of the grass, the smell of fresh bread and fried fish is in the air already. I make my way to the pass into the Lower City and get a pass through the Flaming Fist guards, giant mechanical beings called Steel Watchers patrol the gate and surrounding streets. Everywhere is very heavily guarded, something I’m really not used to seeing. The loudness of people talking, merchants shouting, and businesses bustling with music and conversation alike was almost too overwhelming. Shifting through crowds and guards, I make my way into Wyrm’s Crossing’s tower. A man named Lord Enver Gortash resides in the upper levels apparently. The word “Lord” still doesn’t sit right with me.

After many hours of talking and bartering with guards, I gained a pass into the Lower City where I am appointed as a body to the courthouse judges during trials. Court hearings vary in length, but by night I try to catch criminals and assassins who stalk the streets, waiting for someone unarmed to strike at. I interrogated one of the assassins I captured and found out he was an assassin of Bhaal before I sent him into a coma and threw him into the sewer. There’s a Bhaal cult around here? If so, I will do my best to inform the Flaming Fists and the city watch alike. Over the next few months, I was a personal bodyguard to the courthouse during the day, gaining my own personal set of armor and a hammer with the symbol I chose for Evangeline, whose presence I can still feel around me like a warm hug. I am adorned with silver and black plate armor, paired with chainmail underneath. During my time in the Lower City, my heartache to be in nature grew. I missed the vast lushness of trees, seeing a pair of white foxes chase each other in the snow and pounce at one another. Finding a remote spot in the forest in spring time and taking a short swim in a lake nearby the cabin, the warm breeze flowing through my hair. The city lacked any sort of bucolic surroundings, maybe a bush here and there. It felt like a cage, but with open air and no bars. After some time, I was able to afford my own place. A small apartment near the courthouse, where I raised plants and kept small creatures who would wander into my home. I may just like this life I have, even if I don’t have what I once cherished. Something inside of me is saying that this is only the beginning of a long journey ahead.

A year from now

Things were as good as ever, a decent week at court thankfully and I found a new cat to take care of, who I named Apricot since she was the same color as one. I was cooking her a fish when I heard citizens screaming, and the thunderous roar of something in the sky. I rushed out of my balcony door to see a giant ship with tentacles and a shell hovering over the city. What in the gods name is this? I thought to myself. I put Apricot in a safe space under my bed and threw on my armor. I gave her some pets goodbye and ran out of my apartment. I was directing citizens to a safe house when another one of those living ships appeared right above the street I was standing on. The tentacles rained down and anyone who had been touched by them evaporated into them. I had to get more out of here, I had to save more citizens from an untimely death.

Just as the thought flew into my mind, I felt the slimy touch of the tentacle across my mouth. I blinked and I was on the ship. I had to be. So were so many Baldur’s Gate citizens. A strange looking woman with green skin was trying to break out of her binds when a large tentacled freak held up its hand and put her to sleep. Mind flayers. By the Gods, a mind flayer ship? I had only heard of them in books and tall tales, I had no idea they were actually real. The mind flayer levitated towards me and held out his hand, I had gone unconscious. In my dreams, I saw my old fireplace, crackling and filling the living room with warmth. Tanith and Aneira, sitting in their chairs, beckoning me to sit by the fire. I couldn’t move, I had no control over my body. As the sweet moment filled my senses, it quickly faded away. The room imploded and snow and ice shards swirled around the two people I adored. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my aching lungs, only more ice and snow. I snapped my head upward to see Ransley’s face looming over me, his smug smile decaying like the rest of his features. His eyes pierced right through me, as if he was trying to intimidate my soul.

As soon as I was put to sleep, I was awake. Days had passed. No, weeks? I couldn’t tell. My stomach ached, I needed to eat, I was in a cold sweat. I looked around with what little room I had, the strange woman was still asleep in her pod across from me. The same mind flayer from before was looming over a large, fleshy basin full of an acidic smelling liquid. He pulled a worm-like thing from the basin and levitated over to the strange woman, holding his hand out so she would stare directly at the worm. It latched onto her face and snuck right into her eyeball. Oh Gods, is he going to put one in me next? Just as the thought occurs, he is back to fishing out another worm. Or maybe they were tadpoles? He picks out another one and locks eyes with me, its eyes orange and radiating malice. As he is floating towards me, I try to turn my head away, only to have it snap into place with the flick of its wrist. The tadpole screeched with a psionic power that hurt the innermost parts of my mind, and secured itself into my orbital socket. I slip into unconsciousness again. My new life, taken from me once again. Who was going to take care of Apricot? Who is going to keep the streets safe at night? I need to figure out how to get off this ship and go back to Baldur’s Gate.

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squarebracket-trickster · 2 months

Note

Happy Storyteller Saturday, Kate!

Inspiration can come from anywhere; what's one of the more expected places you've gotten ideas from?

Hi Saran!

Thanks for the STS<333

I am assuming you meant unexpected but perhaps I shall answer both just for fun:)

An unexpected place:

Minutes before the final exam is handed out for my intro to political science course (this was a while ago, pre-pandemic actually), we're all sitting the lecture hall chatting quietly. The girl beside me asks, "how's your day going?"

I remembered having read an article earlier that day about a bunch of nuns in Bhutan? Nepal? I can't remember now, but they study Kung Fu. I tell her this.

She looks up at the front where the exams are sitting in piles waiting to be distributed and my eyes follow. Then we look back at each other at the same moment and she says, "let's go."

We did not, in fact, run away to Nepal together. But I did get the idea for WIPIX right then. It's going to be a duology (the books named Good Ol' Fashioned Pirates and Ye Olde Skull and Cross Bones) about a group of bored college kids that run away to become pirates. The indicting incident, of course, happens as an exam is being passed out and the characters make a different choice than I did.

An expected place:

Last summer the northern lights were supposed to visible over my city around midnight so my dad and I went out on the rocks near our house (overlooking the beach) where we figured there would be the least light pollution (without having to drive for an hour out of the suburbs). We never saw the northern lights that night (still too much light pollution damn you Vancouver) but we did see the milky way. That was the most clearly I have ever seen it.

Some time that night, as I was staring up at the stars, I started thinking about relativity, light speed, and time travel. I came up with this cool idea for a Da Vinci-style contraption (laced with a lil' magic), somewhere between a telescope and projector inside a room full of mirrors, where you could bounce light off an object far in the distance (like a distant planet or moon) and send that light into the future. If you projected an image of yourself you would be sent to the stars and back to earth, and effectively time-travel.

I still need to iron out a whole host of kinks to make this make even a lick of sense, but I liked the aesthetic of it - an "analog" way to time travel - and it became part of the inspiration for WIPXIV, which involves a 15th century secret society of time-travelling plague doctors fighting off the zombie apocalypse with machine guns.

#sts #wipix #wipxiv

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samstree · 3 years

Text

Hug a Witcher Day (4/4)

In which Geralt makes plans, but everything goes wrong.

(geraskier, 4.7k, hurt/comfort, sick jaskier, love confessions, first kiss, second kiss, cuddling, geralt talks about his feelings!)

This story ends here. Remember to give your local witchers a hug!

AO3, previous: [1] [2] [3]

Loving someone is unbearable, Geralt has recently realized.

In the big medical camp, when they can only sleep with hundreds of healers and patients in one big room, their single beds are arranged next to each other in parallel. The night renders the place pitch dark and Geralt is the only one still capable of seeing anything.

Geralt watches Jaskier drift off the moment his head hits the pillow, his breathing calm and his heart slowing.

The bard is tired, but he’s safe.

Geralt watches for a few more moments longer and, gradually, a warm pool of fuzziness begins to gather in his stomach again. He revels in it, in the feeling of loving Jaskier.

He reaches out a hand towards the bard and stops at the edge of the bed, a mere foot away from Jaskier’s sleeping form. The steady rhythm of Jaskier’s human heart lulls Geralt into oblivion but his hand remains there, so close and yet so far away.

That’s how Jaskier wakes Geralt in the morning, with a brush of knuckles, a gentle squeeze on his wrist and a soft, bleary smile. His brown hair is sleep-rumpled and there’s a long pillow crease on his cheek, and Geralt almost blurts it out on the spot.

Loving someone is unbearable.

Loving someone while not telling them is even worse.

But Geralt will tell Jaskier one day. A witcher can’t afford to be a coward. He didn’t get through the worst trials only to be intimidated by a simple human bard. No, the reason he can’t voice those three words is only…bad timing. Jaskier has been through too much in the span of just a few seasons, and yet his smiles are still flowing with patience; he persists with the gentleness that is so distinctly Jaskier .

Geralt won’t weigh Jaskier down, not until they can pack their bags and leave this city.

And they do.

The end of summer brings the first chill in the air, and Geralt finally leads Roach out of the gates of Vizima. Jaskier follows not far behind with the lute on his back and a spring in his steps.

It all feels like a dream when Geralt remembers being cooped up in one place and isolated from the world, but he walks out of the city as a new man. The love flowing through his veins is the tangible proof of his change of heart.

“Roach must be dying to stretch her legs, don’t you think?” the bard offers when Geralt mounts the mare, her gait anxious.

“Catch up to me?” Geralt asks.

“Always.”

The corners of Jaskier’s eyes crinkle and the sun spills down his hair and threads it with gold. With a gentle nudge, the mare takes off eagerly. The bard’s silhouette grows more distant and Geralt gives up on hiding the lovestruck grin on his face.

For a long time, Geralt anticipates he will tell Jaskier in the most dramatic, world-ending way.

After all, the bard does everything so dramatically and world-endingly that anything related to him should deserve the same treatment. Geralt reckons even if he tries to keep it down, Jaskier will find a way to make it the grandest scene there is.

Geralt thinks about doing it in Dol Blathanna, a poetic symmetry to their first meeting that the bard will certainly wax poetic about. The idea churns for two days and suddenly he realizes how terrible it is. The fall will soon render the valley of flowers barren and they’ll just be standing on rocky ground.

So Geralt turns his eyes to the north, where Kaer Morhen must be hiding behind the mountains. Within the walls of the ancient keep, there’s a tower just next to their training yard that he has spent so many sleepless nights in. Standing on top of that tower and watching the stars and northern lights might be the rare moments when he’s truly at peace. It’s when he’s at home.

He silently decides on taking Jaskier home for the winter.

“Why are you taking us this far north, Geralt? Urgh, and why do you have to push me like this? You truly have no pity for me.”

The bard sits on his bedroll and rubs at his eyes at dawn, his face scrunched up with displeasure.

“Hmm.”

In his mind’s eye, Geralt can almost see Jaskier’s face when he steps into Kaer Morhen for the first time, the bard raving about all the songs the ancient keep could inspire and exploring the place with wonderment. He can see the way Jaskier’s eyes would light up under the night sky at the sight of those colorful lights, awestruck and gleaming.

If Geralt was any other man, he would be giddy with anticipation.

And perhaps, that’s why he doesn’t see it when sickness creeps up on Jaskier in the most unexpected way.

Surviving a terrible plague and falling ill right after sounds way too anticlimactic. Jaskier would be disappointed in a twist like this if it’s in a story. It never even crosses Geralt’s mind that Jaskier’s increased complaining is a result of discomfort, of months’ exhaustion silently building up. It never occurs to him that Jaskier, now with his waist and shoulders thinner, might need to take more breaks on the road and wear more layers on harsher days.

An autumn storm catches them off guard and that’s all it takes.

“You got lucky. There’s only one room left.” The man behind the desk throws a pitying look at the bard, dripping on the creaky floor and swaying on his feet. “The rest are all booked for the festival.”

Geralt pays no mind to his remarks. His world narrows down to getting Jaskier into a warm room and stripping him of these wet clothes. He has no choice but to replace them with one of Geralt’s dark shirts—the bard has never been good at keeping his pack dry.

Now Jaskier is shivering under the covers and groaning like a dying animal. His hair is damp from the residual rain and cold sweat, his frame drowning in the too-large tunic.

“Can you light the fire, Geralt?” Jaskier asks through chattering teeth. The blanket is slipping from his shoulders, the open collar exposing a patch of skin and sending a chill down his body. Geralt wraps the blanket tighter around him and looks puzzled at the roaring flame in the hearth.

“It is on. Can’t you see it?” Geralt frowns, confused.

Jaskier’s eyes focus on somewhere far away. The dazed expression lingers for way too long before his head turns to the fireplace. “Oh.”

The worry in Geralt’s stomach grows heavier. He feels for Jaskier’s forehead and lets out a curse when his palm meets burning skin.

“You are feverish.” Geralt continues to wipe away the sweat gathering at the bard’s hairline. “Damn it, Jaskier. Why didn’t you say something?”

The bard leans into Geralt’s cooler touch instinctively. “Well, if you learned one thing about bards, Geralt, you should know that we can’t predict the weather.”

“No.” Frustration seeps into Geralt’s voice. He lets out a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? You must have been feeling terrible for days if you have a fever like this. Jaskier…”

Geralt breathes out his name and finds anger rising, but not towards the bard. He’s angry with himself, for neglecting Jaskier’s comfort in favor of furthering his stupid plan, for not seeing what’s right in front of him. Jaskier staggering on his feet in the pouring rain stirred up some old fear in Geralt, the fear that hasn’t left him since the day he stepped into Oxenfurt in the spring.

“I guess it didn’t even cross my mind,” Jaskier explains, his voice small and unsure. “We just survived something unimaginable, my dear. I was so excited to go out again. It’s you and—”

Jaskier is rudely interrupted by a coughing fit. The violent wheezing wracks his lungs, causing him to fall forward in a struggle. Geralt catches his limp body in a frenzy and Jaskier ends up with his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder to ride it out, his too-warm breaths fanning over the skin of Geralt’s skin.

“It’s you and me against the world,” Jaskier finally croaks as Geralt helps him sit against the pillows. “All the adventures we missed, think about them. I was just…excited.”

Geralt finds himself kneeling on the bed and a hand’s breadth away from Jaskier’s face, his cheeks worryingly flushed. He looks down to adjust the blanket again to make sure the bard is completely bundled up.

“Excited? And you couldn’t even tell you were sick?”

At least the bard is looking contrite.

“I thought I was just out of shape, with all the pain in my joints and my back. Ugh.” Jaskier squirms in the sea of pillows, adjusting to find better support. “I suppose you don’t have anything for it? A whole bag of witcher potions and none for humans—”

“I—” Geralt splutters. “I’ll, um, get you some willow bark. And a sleeping draught.”

He gets off the bed in one swift motion and works under Jaskier’s curious gaze. The bard is entranced by Geralt’s movement as he boils the water and prepares the tea that he’s been carrying around and replenishing for years.

Blue eyes remain inscrutable as Geralt strains out the shredded bark and scoops a spoonful of honey in the steaming water. He brings the cup to Jaskier’s bed as well as a tincture of sleeping potion.

The bard lets go of the blanket in favor of the cup. He takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh. The honey should be soothing his throat, and it counters the bitterness of the willow bark as well. Geralt leaves him to finish the tea and goes to retrieve his cloak. The thick garment is now completely dry and toasty thanks to the fire, so he gathers it and puts it over Jaskier’s lap.

The bard hands Geralt the empty cup, uncorks the tincture, and downs the greenish liquid.

“ Urgh. Why do all sleeping draughts taste so dreadful?” He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “Should’ve saved some of the honey.”

“You need more?”

Geralt is ready to fish out the jar again but a hand resting on his elbow stops him.

“Don’t waste it, Geralt. I know how much honey costs.”

“It’s not a waste,” Geralt insists.

Geralt sinks back down into the mattress and suddenly Jaskier’s palm on his arm is burning a hole into his bones, and it’s not because of the fever.

“Because you bought it for me?” Jaskier’s gaze grows intense, the question phrased like a statement, like the bard has never been more sure of anything else. “You keep a jar of honey in your pack and only put it in our water after I sing for a whole night. You carry fresh willow bark for my headache—gods know it’s too weak for your metabolism. You have sleeping potions for humans.”

All statements should feel accusatory, but something is brewing like a storm under Jaskier’s unwavering eyes.

Geralt’s ears heat up in the too-warm room. He wants to get as far away from Jaskier as possible to avoid feeling so exposed. It’s almost like Jaskier has stripped him bare and left his heart in the open.

“It’s nothing.”

And that’s the wrong thing to say.

“What? No.” Distress overtakes those blue eyes. “Geralt, you take care of me. You have been taking care of me for years. How can it be nothing? Even just in Vizima, you stayed for me and you were there for me—”

“I wouldn’t just leave you there, Jask.” Geralt says defensively. The bard truly is burning with a mad fever if he thinks Geralt could ever leave him.

A sad smile spreads across Jaskier’s face.

“I know. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he answers, half to himself, which makes Geralt all the more confused. He covers Jaskier’s hand resting on his arm and squeezes gently for the bard to continue.

“It’s been three years, Geralt. It’s been three years since that night. Do you still remember? It was the night before we had to part for the winter, and it was so cold. I couldn’t even get my teeth to stop chattering and you insulted my choice of wear, as you do.” The bard rolls his eyes. “I fell asleep in shivers and woke up warm with all my toes still intact. Miraculously.”

Jaskier slips his hand out of Geralt’s before threading their fingers together, his other hand running up and down the cloak on his lap. “You had given me your cloak during the night so I wouldn’t freeze. And when I turned around, you were just…there. Lying on your bedrolls, cloakless, sleeping, and so far away.”

Geralt stares at Jaskier’s dazed expression and the melancholy at the corners of his mouth and senses his languid heartbeat pick up. He remembers that night, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Why Jaskier thinks it was anything of significance is baffling.

“That was the moment for me. That morning, right before we parted for a whole season, was when it hit me. I—Geralt, I wanted to tell you then, but I was too much of a coward, so I sent you away without knowing.”

Tell me what?

The question dies in Geralt’s throat. Instead, habit compels him to deflect. “But you were cold.”

Jaskier’s eyes are gleaming in the warm candlelight, wide and earnest.

“It’s what you do, Geralt. You save me from monsters and rude patrons. You tolerate my faults and you compel me to do better. You traveled across the continent to see me safe, and you stayed. You stayed .” Jaskier is on the verge of tears, and Geralt wishes more than anything in the world to erase that dejected look on his face. “My white wolf. My protector. I—I had nothing to thank you for, except for my songs. So I wrote the song, thinking I could show you that way.”

The fire crackles and Geralt asks dumbly.

“What song?”

Jaskier holds his gaze and hums the too-familiar tune of Hug a Witcher, his voice breaking from time to time, growing hoarse by the end. Geralt is pinned to the spot, unable to form words.

“I got the whole continent to do it for me, didn’t I?” Jaskier chuckles tightly but his usual smugness is nowhere to be seen. “But, you see, the whole continent gets to hug you for a day. They’ll get to show you their appreciation. But not me. What a wonderful plan! I guess that’s the price for being selfish, for wanting an excuse to—just to…”

Jaskier trails off, his fingers limp in Geralt’s hand. The silence hangs too heavily as Geralt lets the thunderstruck realization sink in.

As if Geralt has ever cared about what everyone else thinks of him. As if he ever wanted everyone else’s arms around him. Jaskier can never be selfish when it comes to Geralt, never when it counts. He’s being such a fool for assuming and Geralt lets out a frustrated growl.

The bard flinches, and retreats, pulling his legs towards his chest to appear as small as possible. His curled-up form is so small that it looks wrong. Jaskier should take up all the space in the world.

“No,” Geralt corrects him desperately. “No. You are not selfish, Jaskier. You’ve done nothing wrong by me in this—”

“I’ve brought nothing but trouble to your side. The song, the plague…I’ve worried you, and now I’ve burdened you. I—” Jaskier’s gaze darts all over the place, heedless of Geralt’s protest. The delirium is muddling his mind. Geralt panics and wraps Jaskier’s chin in his palm, desperately trying to anchor his bard.

“Jaskier—”

“Will you leave?” There’s old fear in the question. “Am I going to be cold and alone again?”

It must be the fever. Added with the ordeal of the past year, it’s bringing back memories of childhood, of painful days confined to a bed and struggling for survival. He needs to reassure Jaskier, to erase the lost expression on Jaskier’s face.

In a frenzy, he ends up doing it by pressing his lips to Jaskier’s.

The kiss is a hot and urgent thing and it’s over in a second. The bitter taste of the sleeping potion lingers. Geralt breathes into the space between them, his palm still caressing Jaskier’s cheek. A tear rolls down and Geralt catches it with the pad of his thumb.

Blue eyes refocus, piercing Geralt’s soul.

“Geralt?” he breathes.

The name comes out so reverent that Geralt is sure that his heart will burst. Gods, he loves Jaskier.

“I love you.”

A soft gasp escapes Jaskier’s lips.

“Can you hear me now?” Geralt’s thumb continues to trace small circles on Jaskier’s skin. “Can you hear when I say that, Jaskier, you are not a burden? You are not trouble that I have to deal with. You are not selfish for staying and you will never be alone again, not if I ever have a say in it.”

Jaskier’s limbs unfurl, his arms gradually stretching out from the tight hold over his knees.

"I never wanted to tell you like this. I shouldn’t. Not like this.” Geralt sinks into the presence of his bard and presses their foreheads together. Jaskier stays painstakingly silent and a pang of fear hits Geralt. “Shit, Jask. You don’t need to say anything. I shouldn’t have done it when you are still sick. You know what, forget about—”

“You love me?” Jaskier whispers, his voice so small that anyone but a witcher would have missed it.

“I love you.” Geralt pulls away to stare into the stormy blue of Jaskier’s eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. For longer than I know, Jask. I made so many plans for this moment. I wanted it to be perfect for you. But now, I…I just need you to know.”

He just needs to make it better, make Jaskier better. All the plans are nothing but useless, his fear of rejection too. The sight of Jaskier in pain is enough to chuck every worry out the window. Even if his love is not returned, even if a witcher can never have it returned.

But with a heartbeat and the next, Jaskier has thrown himself into Geralt’s embrace, nearly knocking the breath out of him. And, as if in a fantasy, Jaskier’s lips are everywhere, peppering small, wet kisses all over his face.

“You are perfect for me, you oaf.” A smile finally blossoms on Jaskier’s face and their lips meet again.

The second time Geralt ever kisses Jaskier, it feels like coming home. It’s a drawn-out and lazy dance that lulls him into dreamland, only the dream has come true in the solid form of Jaskier’s supple lips against his and nimble fingers carding through his hair. The bard lets out a string of adorable giggles as he climbs onto Geralt’s bent knees and straddles him, the cloak and blanket shoved out of their way.

Geralt is falling.

And soaring.

“Hey, steady.” he keeps both hands on the small of Jaskier’s back to keep him in place.

The weight of Jaskier is heavenly, and the unlaced collar of Geralt’s shirt provides the best opening for him to slowly suck at the junction between Jaskier’s shoulder and neck. The bard ends up a whimpering, limp mess, draped all over Geralt’s shoulder with a shudder running down his spine.

“Do you even know how easy it is for you to ruin me?” Jaskier murmurs breathily in Geralt’s ear. All he can muster for response is another growl.

When Geralt gently lowers Jaskier down onto the pillows again, the bard looks a fine picture of debauchery, with a beet-red flush painted across his cheeks and patches of reddened skin at his neck that will surely bloom into dark bruises. His hair is sticking in all directions and the shirt slips down from one shoulder, his chest heaving from the exertion.

Tears well up in cornflower blue eyes again but this time it’s not from pain. All Geralt can smell is the heady pleasure that is equally affecting him.

“I’m afraid your sleeping potion has kicked in,” Jaskier yawns just in time. “It’s the good stuff, my dear. You spoil me.”

The bard blinks his eyes open stubbornly as Geralt fishes the blanket up from the floor and then the cloak.

“I’ll spoil you more when you get better.”

“Big witcher with bigger promises.” Jaskier is slurring his words but the smile on his face can match the bright afternoon sun.

Geralt curls around Jaskier’s body and drapes the blanket over both of them, the cloak tucked where chill might creep in during the night. When he pulls Jaskier closer, the bard tucks his head under Geralt’s chin and nuzzles ever so slightly.

The urge to kiss is overwhelming, and Geralt realizes that he can.

“Goodnight, Jask.”

His lips touch Jaskier’s eyelid and the bard is out in the next second. There’s still a faint smile on his lips.

Geralt wakes up like this, with Jaskier sprawled on top of him and snoring softly. He brushes back the hair at the bard’s forehead and feels for his temperature. The fever is still running low but it will be gone in a day or so. Sighing with relief, Geralt revels in the sensation of the rhythmic thrumming of Jaskier’s heart against his ribcage.

His attention drifts to what woke him in the first place. A group of men seems to be yelling on the street right under their window. Geralt only catches a few words in the distinct conversation, but from the looks of it they are arguing about…building a stage somewhere.

And then, the word Saovine stands out.

If they are already building the stage for the performance, and the tavern has been booked up by travelers… Geralt does the math in his head and almost feels giddy when it dawns on him—

It’s today.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day.

The thought doesn’t leave him with the agonizing emptiness that is Jaskier’s absence anymore. Instead, Geralt feels like he’s floating mid-air among the clouds and he may never come down again. He might as well not, since Jaskier won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

He hides a goofy grin in tousled brown hair.

One of the men hammers down on something and Jaskier stirs, inhaling deep and then groaning loud. He arches away from Geralt’s chest with a low growling whine—the fever must still be hurting his back and joints. Geralt untangles their limbs and rests his palm flush against the bard’s lower back where it seems to bother him. He kneads gently, massaging the soreness away. Jaskier lets out an exaggerated moan, his face buried in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

When Jaskier speaks, his voice vibrates deep and nasally from sleep, and it makes something warm gather in Geralt’s stomach. He pushes up the hem of the shirt on Jaskier and places a kiss on the side of his waist before lying down again, face to face with the bard.

“It wasn’t.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier mirrors one of Geralt’s many hums and looks up blearily through drooping lashes, his smile content and his blush healthier. The bard boops his nose. “What are you grinning at?”

“It’s my day.”

“What day?” The furrow between Jaskier’s brows is too adorable and Geralt is too smitten with it. Eventually, the bard catches on. “ Oh .”

He then scoots closer to tuck a strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear. Excitement sparks in his eyes.

“Can I?” Jaskier asks as if they didn’t just spend a whole night snuggled against each other, as if Geralt hasn’t been ready to say yes since three Hug a Witcher Days ago.

“Yes.”

With that permission, Geralt finds himself on his back with an armful of bard. Jaskier is hugging him so tightly that even a witcher can barely breathe.

“For luck, right?” the bard says into his neck and flings a leg over Geralt’s hip, putting his entire weight into the embrace. “Only the gods know I’ll be needing some for next year.”

“No more scaring me like this.” Geralt mutters half to himself as he runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and pulls him even closer. It’s a near-impossible endeavor since he’s already crushed between the mattress and the too eager bard.

“No more,” Jaskier agrees and rubs his nose into the silver hair pooling on the pillow, humming with buzzing pleasure. “And who would have thought? Destiny can be cruel just as she is kind. It’s today, of all days...”

“Hmm. Who would have thought…”

Geralt inhales the scent of Jaskier, now the sour stench of misery only faint. In its place is the happiness that reminds him of the afternoon sun baked into fresh linens.

“And to think I forgot to tell you yesterday. The most renowned poet on this continent forgot to profess his love. How embarrassing!”

Geralt snorts, but in truth, he doesn’t even care anymore. Jaskier being here, in the safety of his arms and recovering from the ordeal of the past year is more than enough. He can live with the knowledge that Jaskier knows that he is loved. He is loved so deeply by someone who was told his whole life to be incapable of it. Now that Geralt is on the other side, the idea of ever not loving Jaskier becomes an unthinkable thing. It’s like not loving the sun or the earth or—

“You’re thinking sappy things.” The bard looks up and the mirth in his eyes disappears. “And probably bad things about yourself. After all these years, after so many songs and so many scrapes and bruises, you still doubt it. Oh, Geralt. Can’t you see? I wrote Hug a Witcher because I didn’t know how to tell you that I love you. To be fair, I wrote every song for the same reason, but this one…I needed you to feel loved, darling, even if it’s not by me.”

So he got the whole continent to do it for him and dragged every other witcher down with it. Geralt should be appalled by the length of theatrics the bard is willing to go if he doesn’t somehow find it the most endearing thing in the world.

“A love letter. Delivered by everyone but you,” Geralt adds.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” Jaskier purses his lips sheepishly. A sheepish Jaskier is such a rare occurrence that Geralt can’t look away. “My white wolf. My protector.”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s wrist and guides it to his chest, placing his palm right over the slow rhythm of his heart. “That’s one thing we have in common, isn’t it? You protect me too. You guard my heart and my name. You use your strength but not for violence but love. If destiny has ever given me one blessing, Jaskier, it would be you. And you are asking if I’m satisfied...”

Geralt puts the answer in the kiss he presses on Jaskier’s forehead with all the gentleness he can muster. It must be the one-millionth time he’s kissed Jaskier because he can no longer remember not being allowed to kiss Jaskier feels like.

“So, Hug a Witcher Day, eh?” Jaskier springs up with renewed vigor, so fast Geralt amazes that he isn’t getting dizzy. “How should we celebrate?”

Geralt looks at his bard, surrounded by his clothing and his love, basked in the shimmering morning light.

“I believe it’s in the name.” he challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, honey. You know I won’t let you go for the rest of the day, right?” the bard smirks with mischief. “But first, if I remember it correctly, didn’t you say that you had some…plans for your grand love confession?”

Geralt blinks. “Are you always this incorrigible?”

“Duh!” Jaskier shrugs, offended. “Oh, come on! I promise I won’t make fun of you! And I’m sure I can make at least one ballad out of your plotting, my darling witcher. With how much of a sap you are, a whole romance book if I put my mind to it!”

“I won’t give you the chance to make fun of me for the rest of time, bard.”

“But I’m sick.” Jaskier bats his lashes. “It will make me feel better. Won’t you indulge me?”

Geralt cannot believe the bard is already playing this card. What’s worse is that he knows his resolve will break very soon.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day after all, and Geralt finally, finally gets to have the one person he wants the most in his arms. If a little bit of embarrassment is the price for it, he can’t say that he minds that much.

---

Geralt gets lots of hugs. Jaskier gets to tease him endlessly. And I can start new wips!

I was torn between two different ways to end this story and finally settled on this more conventional one. I’ll be putting up the alternative ending soon ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #cuddling #snuggling #hugs and kisses!#sick jaskier #jaskier gets sick but it's unrelated to the plague #jaskier whump #protective geralt #love confessions #first kiss #second kiss #geralt of rivia is a sap #this should be a tag #the other ending is very silly #so very silly

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mintaka14 · 3 years

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This is chapter 2 of my Dash & Lily inspired ML AU.

For the Lady’s Favour

A Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter Two – Complicated Plans

“Delivery order,” Luka’s boss said laconically, and pushed a takeaway cup and a slip of paper across the counter towards Luka.

Delivery orders weren’t uncommon, but the address on the slip was, and Luka’s eyebrow climbed as he read it. His boss just shrugged.

“The customer paid extra for this one, so you’d better get going.”

At least it was a nice day to be making a delivery to the Trocadéro, and Luka headed out into the streets towards the gardens.

There were plenty of people clustered around the first bench from the northern entrance of the park, and the second, but there was only one at the third bench. He could see pigtails, and a girl bent over the sketchbook in her lap. As he got closer, he caught a glimpse of an assortment of clothing, notes and scribbles and odd sketches around the edges.

“Delivery for the lady at the third bench?” he called out, and his attention was caught by the figure she seemed to be working on. Was that… Jagged Stone? This girl had good taste in music, clearly, and the coat she’d sketched on him looked amazing.

“Hey, that’s really –“ The girl looked up, and Luka completely lost his train of thought as he found himself staring into endlessly blue eyes. Holy shit.

“Is that my coffee?” she asked with a tentative smile, and Luka jerked back to attention. He looked down at the chocolate and fluff with extra everything and all the froufrou his boss had been able to jam into one cup.

“Not exactly.”

The girl’s eyes fell on the cup in his hands, and she let out a soft breath.

“I guess he has a sweet tooth,” she said, and he handed her the cup, trying not to react to the brush of her fingers.

“You didn’t see who placed the order?” she asked a little wistfully. “It- it wasn’t you, was it?”

“Me?” Luka was still reeling under the impact of those blue, blue eyes. “Right now, I wish it had been.”

He nodded at the cup of chocolate and marshmallow fluff in her hands. “Although I’m more of a coffee guy.”

She lit up in a smile, and any semblance of rational thought that Luka had left was gone. Damn, she was just too gorgeous.

“Me too, to be honest. I wouldn’t get half the things I need to do done without a regular caffeine hit. Are you a night owl too?”

“Too often, yeah. It kind of comes with the territory.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, and he found himself talking more.

“I play in a couple of bands, and I’d keep falling asleep over my guitar in the middle of a gig without coffee to keep me going.”

“You’re a musician?”

He grinned and ducked his head in acknowledgement. “What about you? What keeps you up at night?”

It was only after he’d said it that he realised how that could have sounded, but the girl didn’t seem to notice.

“Design and sewing.” She let out a faint huff. “The middle of the night always seems to be about the only time I can focus on my projects without something interrupting me, so… coffee.” She pulled a face at the mountain of fluffy chocolate in her hand, and then seemed to realise that they were still standing in the middle of the park. She backed up a reluctant step. “I should – I should stop holding you up. You probably need to get back to work, and here I’m – Sorry. Thanks for bringing me the hot chocolate.”

“You can hold me up any time,” he sighed, but only when she was out of hearing. He turned and headed back towards the coffee shop, but he came to an abrupt stop at the sound of running footsteps and the touch of a hand on his arm.

“Sorry, sorry!” the girl gasped. She held out a raspberry red macaron wrapped in cellophane and ribbon. It was a work of art. “I nearly forgot. Could you give this to the person who ordered the hot chocolate for me?”

“It looks like a ladybug,” he said stupidly, and she blushed again. “No, it’s cute. Lucky.”

“I could use a bit of luck,” she muttered, then she met his eyes and her smile grew brighter. “It was really nice to meet you, Luka. Thanks for my sugar rush.”

Luka’s malfunctioning brain caught on that. “You know my name?”

And the girl’s face flamed into embarrassment. “I don’t… you… the thing…” She gave up and nodded at his chest, and the name tag that was still there.

Ah. Of course.

“I’m Ma-ma-marinette,” she offered, tripping over her own name.

“Pretty name. It suits you.” Judging from the way her cheeks burned even brighter, his tone had been a little more heartfelt than he’d intended, and, reluctantly, he backed up a step. “Guess I’d better get back before my boss notices I’m missing and decides to fire me.”

The smile she gave him almost knocked him on his ass, and he turned away before he could make even more of an idiot of himself. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, though.

Luka stopped and turned back.

“Marinette,” he said. “Wait, do you know Juleka Couffaine?”

“We were in the same class for a few years,” Marinette admitted. “We hang out sometimes.”

“You’re Marinette! I heard all about you from Jules after that thing with the school photo.” He could have kissed her for what she’d done for his baby sister’s self-confidence, and if half the things he’d heard from Juleka were true, this girl was every bit as incredible as he’d just been imagining. He realised he was beaming at her like a fool, and tried to dial it back a bit.

“Nothing too bad, I hope,” she said, sounding a little alarmed, and he felt his smile soften.

“Nothing bad at all.”

When he finally got back to the coffee shop, Luka had barely had time to slide behind the counter and sling an apron around his waist again before the door swung open with an enthusiastic peal of the bell. He looked up to find Adrien Agreste heading towards the counter with an expression of barely concealed nervous anticipation on his famous features.

Luka gave him an easy smile, but before he could ask what the model wanted, Adrien had blurted out, “Did she like it? Did… were you the one who delivered the hot chocolate for me? Was she there?”

So Marinette’s mystery hot chocolate was Paris’ beloved poster boy.

Luka silently handed him the macaron that Marinette had asked him to deliver, and watched the model’s face light up like Christmas had come early.

~~~~~

Marinette was not surprised when Alya burst into her bedroom without so much as a greeting.

“So?” Alya said impatiently. “How did it go?”

“He sent me hot chocolate. I think I’m still in sugar shock, Alya, but the boy who delivered it was so funny and sweet about it –“

“Never mind the delivery guy,” Alya cut her off. “Your mystery guy came through! You had your first date with him… feel free to tell me I’m a genius any time now. This is a good start. The whole idea is for you to get to know each other before you meet, so you need to write to him and get him to do something to show he’s serious here.”

“Like what?”

Alya shrugged. “You’re the one with the plans. You just have to come up with something you can get him to do that doesn’t involve you meeting face to face, something he can do to win your favour.”

“Yes, but it’s not like I can ask him to fight a duel for my honour or something…” Marinette trailed off. “Fight,” she repeated thoughtfully.

“I know that look,” Alya nudged her shoulder. “That’s a plan happening, isn’t it?”

Marinette grabbed a sheet of notepaper from her desk, and her favourite pen.

“Ultimate Mecha Strike,” she announced.

“What?”

“An online challenge. It’s perfect. We don’t have to meet in person, but we can play each other online and find out a bit more about each other.”

Alya was looking as if she wasn’t sure if it was a bad idea or brilliant.

“What if he doesn’t play UMS?”

“Then I can teach him.”

“And what if he doesn’t like getting whomped?” Alya asked sceptically. She was very familiar with Marinette’s playing style, and Marinette made a face, still concentrating on the note she was writing.

“Then it’s better to find out now that he’s a sore loser, before I get too attached.”

Marinette read over the note, and folded it, presenting it to Alya with a flourish. Alya grinned, and tucked it into her bag.

“Right,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let’s see if he’ll fight for your hand. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Once Alya had clattered down the steps again, Marinette buried her face in her pillow and screamed quietly. This was a bad, bad idea.

~~~~~

Luka was wiping down the counter when the bell chimed over the door, and he paused as Alya came in. It wasn’t unusual to see her in the café, but it was unusual to see her there without Nino or their friends. He watched curiously as she sidled almost furtively towards the noticeboard and tacked something up between the band posters and lost and found notices.

“What are you up to?” Luka asked, and Alya leaped, her hand going to her chest as she spun around.

“Jeez! You startled me.”

Luka tipped his head at the envelope she’d just pinned up. “I saw you the other day, when you put that letter on the board, and now this one. What’s that all about?”

“Aren’t we allowed to use the public noticeboard?” Alya asked, her hands going to her hips and a defensive note in her voice.

“And that hot chocolate delivery the other day?”

Alya huffed in response, but Luka just kept watching her with a look of mild interest, until she said, “It’s just like this game. Sort of. Like a blind date, without actually knowing who you’re dating.”

Luka’s eyebrow climbed.

“Look, we have these friends who’d be perfect for each other, but she can’t talk to him, and he’s completely clueless, so we’re trying to set them up.”

“Right,” Luka said slowly. “Does Marinette know about this?”

“Well, she doesn’t know who it is,” Alya muttered. “But she’s had this huge crush on Adrien for ages. We’re just getting them to set each other challenges, doing stuff like that coffee delivery, or… I don’t know, looking for a painting at the Louvre, something like that. Like dates, where they don’t actually meet.” Alya gave a sudden grin. “It’s going to be so hilarious when they finally work out who they’re writing to.”

“Is this some kind of practical joke?” he asked flatly, his heart sinking a little for Marinette’s sake, but Alya’s angry reaction was somewhat reassuring.

“Like I’d do that to my girl!” she said indignantly. “This is just… a creative way to help her get past some stuff. You met Marinette, so you know how she trips all over herself and stutters?”

She’d certainly stumbled over their names when she’d gotten flustered, but Marinette had been perfectly coherent through most of their conversation. Alya must have taken Luka’s expression as agreement, though, because she barrelled on.

“Well, imagine that, but like a million times worse. Girl just cannot string a sentence together around a guy she likes. And Adrien, well, he’s great with knowing what to say to his fans, and being polite to other models and his father’s business contacts, but not so good with,” Alya gestured vaguely, “normal stuff. He’s never really noticed Marinette like that, because he’s not real good with subtle, but he buys into that whole romantic movie, big gesture, winning the lady thing.”

“And that’s where this comes in?” Luka asked drily, nodding at the letter pinned to the board.

“Exactly!” Alya smacked her hands on the counter. “It’s like something out of one of those old movies. We get Adrien’s attention with the whole romantic mystery thing, and in the meantime, they can get to know each other. Marinette can talk to Adrien, because she doesn’t have to actually talk to him and she doesn’t know it’s him anyway, and Adrien can get to see how amazing my girl really is.”

“This seems like a very complicated way of doing things,” he pointed out as neutrally as possible, but Alya waved away the observation with a flip of her hand.

“You don’t know Marinette. Everything tends to be complicated with her.”

“If Marinette can’t actually talk to him in person, maybe he’s not the right one for her.”

“Oh, please! She’s been in love with him forever. Love makes you do stupid things, and she just needs a bit of a push in the right direction. I know Marinette.” Alya narrowed her eyes at him. “And what’s it got to do with you anyway?”

Luka just shook his head, not trusting himself to respond. He was honest enough with himself to admit that the pang of disappointment he’d felt when he found out that Marinette was interested in someone else might have had something to do with his judgement here, but even so, this had all the makings of a trainwreck of epic proportions. He didn’t, however, need Alya’s measuring gaze to know that it was none of his business, not if Marinette wanted this.

He shrugged, and turned away to straighten the coffee cups.

“It’s nothing to do with me,” he told her, and the note stayed pinned to the board until Adrien came in again some time later to collect it. And if Luka’s heart sank a little at the eager expression on Adrien’s face, and the thought that maybe this ridiculous plan might actually work, then he kept that to himself.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #endgame lukanette #dash & lily #shenanigans #for the lady's favour

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lostinfantasyworlds · 3 years

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Teaser for Under the Northern Lights, Chapter 10: The Leap

Scraping in at the very end of WIP Wednesday again, I bring you a taste of the pure fluff that awaits in Chapter 10 of Under the Northern Lights!

All of the sweet and wonderful comments I’ve received on chapter 9, after taking such a long break, has gotten me SO pumped and inspired to keep sharing more, as often as possible. I really can’t thank you all enough, it means the absolute world to me to see so many others just as excited to read this story as I am to write it 🥺❤️. You guys are truly the best, seriously 😘

Tagging (let me know if you want on or off!): @aelianadawn @alisanangel @anisaanisa @alysssa-inukag @bluehawaiicat @born-for-eachother @deactivated2431545484 @fawn-eyed-girl @goshinote @gruviyasharuto @inussunflower @julyzaa @keks-creations @ladyaerilla @littlepumkinseed @littleredwritinghat @liz8080 @malditamigs @neutronstarchild @purplemys @redflamesofpassion @rocioanime4 @sailorlolo @sangoslays @sunsetskys @superpixie42 @theinuyashareader @themusicalshoo @zukkosbaby

If there was anything better than sex with Kagome Higurashi, Inuyasha thought, it was waking up with her still in his arms as the first rays of the morning sun slowly began to filter through the windows of his cabin.

Her skin was velvety warm everywhere it touched his own, her arm draping across his bare torso as she lay tucked snuggly against his side. Wearing a peaceful expression on her face as she slept, her head was nestled soundly right where his shoulder met his chest, offering him a wonderful view if he tilted his head a little.

He watched, captivated, as the golden glow of daylight slowly painted her skin with warm hues, simultaneously studying the tiny details of her face that he hadn’t noticed before.

She had a small freckle on her right temple. Her top lip was just a tiny bit smaller than her bottom one. Her hair had the slightest blue tinge to it.

So beautiful...

Lifting the arm that was wrapped around her shoulders, Inuyasha dipped his fingers into the inky black sea of hair that framed her face, letting the tapered points of his claws scrape ever-so-lightly across her scalp. Kagome unconsciously hummed in response, her face scrunching into the tiniest hint of a smile as she briefly nuzzled her nose into his armpit before it fell back into neutral.

Trying to recall if he had ever seen anything more adorable, Inuyasha couldn’t help but smile, feeling like the warm rays of sunshine streaming through the window had pierced through his chest and melted him to the core. He tried his best to get her to do it again, dragging his claws through her soft tresses and lightly massaging her scalp in all kinds of different variations, but she seemed to have fallen back into a deep slumber.

Finally admitting defeat, he simply pulled her closer, breathing in the extra notes of her heavenly scent that were released every so often as he continued playing with her hair. He had just begun to count the freckles on her shoulder when he realized, with a jolt, what he was doing.

More importantly, what he was feeling.

Fuck.

Why did it have to be Kagome, a woman he couldn’t really have, that made him feel so fucking amazing, like he was soaring above the clouds without a care in the world?

Only two days ago, he had looked her in the eye and agreed to a sex-only arrangement that would expire in about two weeks, joking that he knew how one night stands work.

He was absolutely done for.

#inukag #utnl #under the northern lights #wip wednesday #teaser #and there's a lot more fluff where that came from in this chapter #with just a dash of angst....because its me and I can't resist

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lire-casander · 3 years

Text

yours until forever is through

[2,702 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta'ed by @ravens-words] [special thanks to @alwaysablossom who has let me get inspired by this drawing of hers for one of the parts in this story] [title from never let go by hanson] [carlos reyes, tk strand, owen strand, judd ryder, original characters] [fluff, spoilers for s02e12, mentions of smoke inhalation, mentions of arson, mentions of a fire, mentions of injuries, mentions of a work accident, i swear this is fluffy, good things happen bingo] [written for @911fluffweek, day 4: forehead kiss + sneaking out together] [written for @meloingly, who requested forehead kisses from my good things happen bingo card]

[five times tk and carlos kissed each other’s foreheads, and the one time someone else kissed both of them]

yours until forever is through | on ao3

TK’s sleeping peacefully — or at least as peacefully as one could expect, given everything — when Carlos’ alarm breaks the silence a little after dawn. He scrambles to stop it, fumbling to get his phone before the shrilling sound wakes his boyfriend. Carlos smiles giddily at the thought.

Boyfriend.

And his.

Carlos moves around his bedroom as silently as he can, gathering his clothes scattered across the floor. He keeps stealing glances at the bed, where TK is still asleep, just to make sure his boyfriend doesn’t wake up before his time. Carlos would hate to interrupt TK’s much deserved — and needed — rest, now that he’s finally where Carlos wanted him to be.

In his bed. In his home. In his life.

The memories of the night spent under the Northern Lights flash back to Carlos as he steps into the shower — the way TK clung to his hand, the words that keep echoing in his mind, the sweetness of the kisses they shared beneath the stars, the long celebrations underneath the covers within the intimacy of his bedroom.

He hates that he has a shift to cover for Mitchell today of all days, but he guesses it’s just his luck as he scrubs the remnants of slumber off his eyes. He rubs himself dry as he hums cheesy love songs to himself, his mood lifted by the mere thought of the man who’s still in his bed. Carlos can’t believe he finally gets to have everything he’s been longing for these past months. He peers out of the bathroom door, checking that TK is real and not a figment of his imagination.

Carlos is rewarded with the sight of his boyfriend huddled up in the covers, slight blush covering his features.

He quickly puts on his uniform after a glance at his phone tells him that he’s got little time to drive to the precinct. As he’s strapping on his belt, TK stirs, coughing slightly. He sees his boyfriend frowning as he reaches out and touches the empty bed. A wave of want overcomes Carlos, making him long for his lips to be touching every patch of skin he can see.

“Carlos?”

“Here,” he replies softly, leaning in and cupping TK’s face with his hand. “I’m sorry I have to leave, Ty. I have a shift.”

“I’ll miss you,” TK whispers, green eyes half-open and voice husky from sleep.

“I’ll miss you too,” Carlos retaliates in a reverent whisper. He gives in to the need of feeling TK’s skin under his lips, leaning in further and kissing TK’s forehead. “Now I have to go, but I’ll be back before you know it. Try not to burst your stitches today.”

TK laughs whole-heartedly, and the sound follows Carlos as he walks out of the room, out of the house, and gets into his car to drive to the precinct.

The memory of that sound warms him up from the inside the whole day through.

ii.

"We're okay," TK repeats endlessly, holding Carlos closer to his cheat underneath the blankets they've been given by the firefighters from the 122, the station that’s come to their rescue. "We'll be okay."

Carlos sniffles against TK’s hoodie. It breaks TK’s heart to know Carlos is destroyed by what happened — to know that his boyfriend is beating himself over the fact that they didn’t have an extinguisher in the room. He wants to scream that it doesn’t matter anymore, that they're lucky they're still alive, that an extinguisher wouldn’t have stood a chance against chemical fire and arson.

Instead, he holds Carlos closer and keeps repeating that they'll be fine, in an attempt to convince himself that they will, indeed.

Judd approaches them warily. "TK, Carlos," he says with a grave voice. "It’s time for you to get really checked."

"We've been checked," TK begins to protest. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to face the world right now. He needs to be strong for Carlos, right now, and he can’t do that if he's being prodded and poked and checked.

"Not for real," Judd insists. "The 122 has sent their A team ambo. They're waiting for you."

"Do we have to go?" TK whines. His hands are still clutching at Carlos' back, giving his boyfriend space to compose himself before going over to where the paramedics are waiting. "I'm a paramedic, I say we're fine."

"And I say Carlos here needs his airways to be checked, and you, brother, need to stop complaining about this. If you're so fine, then you have nothing to lose."

TK shakes his head. He doesn’t want to let go of Carlos, not now, not when his boyfriend is holding onto him as though TK is the only lifeline around. He can’t stop thinking about what they have almost done — what he has suggested they did. Jumping out of the window would have had horrible consequences for both of them, and yet Carlos was ready to follow his lead.

TK doesn’t think he'll ever forgive himself, the same way Carlos is beating himself up over the extinguisher.

"Just humor me," Judd is saying. "It'll be a few minutes, and then you can go with the Cap."

TK is thankful to Judd for not using the word home, not when their home is currently a jumbled mess of charred metal collapsed on itself.

"C'mon," he says, dropping a kiss on Carlos' head and then on his forehead when Carlos pulls away. "Let’s get checked and then we can go sleep in a real bed at my Dad's."

"You sure?" Carlos mutters.

TK isn’t sure — he doesn’t think they should go to either his father’s or Carlos' family ranch, but they have very few options tonight. They need somewhere to sleep, if they're even going to close their eyes and not see the fire latching at the walla, and TK’s former home is closer.

"Yeah," he says. "We'll see, tomorrow. Now, we just go with it. Okay?"

Carlos nods and follows him like a lost puppy. TK hopes they're not as broken as they feel, tonight.

iii.

They open the door to their bedroom and Carlos sticks his head out to check if there's someone around. It seems the corridor is empty, but he can never be too sure — the first five times they've tried to sneak out of Owen's house, the corridors had been empty as well.

"Coast is clear," he whispers, tiptoeing outside, TK hot on his heels.

He feels exhilarated as they make their way to the stairs and down to the living room. He knows they don’t have the need to sneak out of the house — they’re adults, they can do whatever they want. But there's only too much Owen being a mother hen over them before one of them breaks.

He knows that Owen isn't trying to be overprotective, but it’s only natural — they almost died as collateral damage of both their fathers' stunt. But if Carlos has to answer Owen's questions about where they’re going, why they're leaving the house and when they plan on coming back one more time, he's going to combust.

The front door is right there, so close, they're giddily reaching it — only to find it locked.

Which shouldn’t be surprising, but Carlos groans. It seems they're only facing obstacle after obstacle in their quest to regain any semblance of normalcy.

"Babe, it's fine," TK laughs, grabbing the keys that lay on the bowl next to the door. He casually clinks the keys together and pushes himself to the tips of his toes to kiss Carlos' forehead before inserting the correct key in the lock and twisting it. "Here. Open."

"I love that sound," Carlos says cheerfully.

"What sound?"

"Freedom," he explains, one foot already out of the house, when a sudden new voice barges in.

"Where do you think you're going in the middle of the night, boys?" Captain Strand — Owen — says at their back.

Carlos slowly turns around to face the owner of the house, arms crossed on his chest and hair disheveled from sleep.

They were so close, and now they're busted.

But at least this time they made it to the front door. And that's a victory Carlos will accept, seeing as they're now being ushered back inside like two teenagers caught red-handed.

Maybe they were. Maybe they are. But they're still a pretty damn good team.

iv.

They're strolling through the farmer's market, hand in hand, on a sunny Sunday. TK can’t help staring at his boyfriend as Carlos checks on some bell peppers in his favorite stall. However, soon enough his attention is demanded by the bundle he has strapped to his chest — his baby brother starts to fuss and squirm as he wakes up.

It's been a trip, getting used to having a baby around these months when his mother has been out of the country for her job, and Enzo has been unable to take care of a baby when he's been in charge of tending to his elder mother on his own. Despite his own terrible hours, TK had offered, fully supported by Carlos, who loves baby Enzo as though he was his own.

TK has yet to get used to the fact that his baby brother has a cooler name than he does — but he’s come to love being who he is, even more since he's learned to see himself under the light Carlos sheds on him.

One day, he's going to make Carlos his for forever.

"Hey," he coos, fingers quick to soothe his brother before he can start crying. "Glad to see you awake."

The baby beams up a toothless smile at him, and he feels his heart melt.

"Such a beautiful baby," the vendor says. "He looks exactly like you!"

TK laughs. "Well, he's my brother. There was that chance," he jokes.

Carlos huffs out a laugh of his own when the vendor splutters. "I thought he was your child!"

"No, not yet," Carlos murmurs, winking at her. He leans into TK, dodging his boyfriend’s fingers as TK tries to touch him, and instead blows a raspberry on the baby's stomach. "Soon, I hope," he continues, only for TK’s ears to hear.

He thinks this is what I want when Carlos leans in to drop a kiss on his brother's cheek. A family, a future. With Carlos.

Before Carlos can straighten up, TK rushes to kiss his forehead, almost bumping his nose against Carlos' skull. They both chuckle; Carlos links their hands together and they keep walking through the stalls under the blazing sun.

They are all alone, the music a background sound to the rushing of blood in their ears. Carlos smiles nervously at TK — his husband’s blue suit a perfect contrast with his own black suit, pink bow tie against black bow tie, matching even in the disparaging of their preferred colors, perfect for each other in ways he had only dreamed about.

He knows he’s imagining the scent of the cut flower he sports in his lapel, because there's no way he can smell it after so many hours, but he wants to believe his nerves aren't playing tricks on him. He smiles softly, grabs TK’s right hand and sneaks an arm around his husband’s waist.

He waits a beat, allowing the knowledge that he’s now a married man — married to TK Reyes-Strand — to seep right to his bones. And then, he moves.

Carlos twirls on the dance floor, sliding against TK as they move together as husbands for the first time. They're a puddle of giggles and nerves, twisting and turning in each other’s arms while their families stare at them from the sidelines.

"I love you," he whispers into TK’s ear. "Husband."

"I don’t think I'll ever get tired of hearing that word," TK sighs happily, head resting on Carlos' chest.

"Then I will never stop calling you my husband," Carlos vows. In a swift movement, he lifts their joined hands and makes TK turn around, making a full circle until they’re face to face again.

TK lets out a small oof as he collides against Carlos' chest again, having miscalculated the space he had for movement. They both chuckle as their families laugh out loud.

"You okay?" Carlos questions.

"Better than okay," TK promises. "I think you were calling me husband, husband."

"I love calling you mine," Carlos finds himself saying. TK looks up at him, eyes full of awe and hope, and Carlos can’t help himself.

Taking advantage of their height difference, Carlos drops a kiss on TK’s forehead. They keep dancing together, surrounded by their families cooing and wolf-whistling.

This is bliss, he thinks as he twirls with TK in his arms.

TK is sitting on the couch, in front of the television, mindlessly leafing through a magazine as sounds coming from the kitchen across the hall drown the voices of the movie he’s supposed to be watching. He smiles without lifting his gaze from the page he’s reading now, his husband’s voice singing along to some song on the radio as he cooks dinner.

“Daddy?” he hears, the voice small and unsure.

He looks up from his magazine to meet his son's brown eyes. "Hello, Charlie," he greets. "Wanna come up here?" He gestured to his lap, and his son eagerly rushes from the door toward him, jumping up for TK to catch him.

He always does.

"What's up, buddy?" he asks, ruffling the curls that remind him so much of Carlos'.

"I missed you today," Charlie pouts, hiding his head into TK’s chest.

"And I missed you too," TK promises. "Sorry I had to go to work sooner than expected."

"It’s okay," Charlie says seriously. "Papi says you were with Gramps the whole time. That means nothing bad happens, because Gramps takes care of you."

TK sighs, partly amused. He knows their careers are dangerous and that there’s always a risk of not making it back home, but he'd hoped to keep his seven-year-old out of that worry longer. But after his latest stunt — a fall through a two-story house while he was covering Mateo's shift — he's spent three weeks recovering at home. Charlie had been so scared when Carlos had taken him to the hospital, and he hadn’t wanted TK to ever go back to work. Today has been his first day back, and he sneaked out of the house before Charlie was even up, leaving Carlos to deal with their son. He'd simply been unable to face Charlie — he would have caved in and stayed home.

"Do you think that?" he questions as softly as he can.

"Papi says that we should bubble wrap you." Charlie's words are strong, reverberating against TK’s chest.

"Charlie," TK sighs. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"I know," Charlie says, nodding. He looks up at TK. "Papi also says that I have to be brave and that you will always come back home."

TK smiles. "We will both come back to you," he promises, even though he knows it’s a promise he won't be able to keep, one day.

"Aren't you scared?"

"All the time," TK confesses.

"I have the cure for that!" Charlie quips excitedly.

"And what would that be?"

"This!"

His son grabs TK’s head with his chubby hands and lowers it until TK is staring at his own lap. Then, with all the softness that a kid can muster, Charlie kisses his forehead. "Better?"

TK swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. "Much," he manages to say.

"Can I have one of those?" Carlos says.

When TK looks up, he sees his husband close to them, a smile playing on his lips. Charlie squeals and squirms off TK's lap. He runs and runs until Carlos swoops him up. TK watches on as Charlie takes advantage of his newfound position in his Papi's arms to repeat his motions from before and cup Carlos' face to lower it forward. Charlie kisses Carlos' fire as well, earning himself a loud chuckle and a smacking kiss on his cheek when he’s done.

TK stands up and saunters towards his boys, engulfing them in a tight hug as they all laugh together.

23 notes · View notes

stormra · 3 years

Note

For Osomatsu-san: How would the brothers treat their S/O, who’s a popular musician but has to travel around all the time (tours, concerts, etc)? Would they come with their S/O? Or stay and support them from afar because they don’t want to get in their way?

❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒/𝐎

— type : headcanons

— characters : the matsuno brothers

𝙊𝙎𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ While he’d support you and love you unconditionally regardless of what you want from him, he’d definitely want to leech off of your successes. You can expect him to instantly say yes upon being asked to travel with you. Staying home wouldn’t even be a consideration for an array of arguably stupid reasons that read as follows:

❧ “It’s no big deal! What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, baby~”

❧ However, if you’re into being a less-official version of a sugar Mommy/Daddy/Parent, you might not care about him tagging along and using you for your money/fame. At least he loves you? Just look at it that way! Osomatsu isn’t all that bad.

❧ Sure, he’s greedy, but he’s not extremely selfish. He’d recognize that you have feelings that deserve to be acknowledged. Besides, we all know he doesn’t think very highly of himself in the first place.

❧ He’d love to listen to you play/sing for him and would often go out of his way to watch you perform. While he might not know much about music, he’d value your dedication, as he has exactly 0 ounces of that mystical concept. Knowing that the people he loves are successful is euphoric.

❧ If you show him off to the public or so much as walk around with him in public, expect him to die. He wouldn’t be focused on suddenly gaining fame and popularity like some others would. Instead, he’d be stuck on the fact that you, a popular musician, chose to show the world that you belong to him and that he belongs to you... just a lowly NEET dating someone exponentially more successful. Something about that would warm his heart and make him feel valued for once.

❧ Did someone say he’d finally accept his identity? He’s constantly having internal crises. Your presence would only solidify his existence.

❧ While he wouldn’t be much of a comforting boyfriend, he’d pose as a great distraction. The celebrity life can get rather tiresome; Osomatsu would recognize this without a problem. Instead of coddling or comforting you, he’d use his childish nature to distract you from the stresses of the music industry, influencing you to take breaks and lazy days with him.

❧ He’d constantly ask to be in any sort of photo shoots you may have. He just wants to pose in funny positions with you!

𝙆𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ While Karamatsu wouldn’t exactly want to stay home in order to keep himself from making things harder for you, he’d do so if you asked or made it clear that you’d prefer such an option. If you’d expect him to ask, no. He’s far too polite to do that.

❧ It’s important to note that he considers himself to be a bit of a musician as well. Therefore, he’d be even more compelled to go with you, but, again, he’d never ask. You’d have to ask him and express a trillion times that you actually want him to tag along.

❧ This might sound like a stretch, but that grandiose act he loves so much? It would disappear rapidly with the knowledge that so many people could learn of his existence just by dating you. Without even being the celebrity in the relationship, he’d crack under pressure, reverting back into the timid, people-pleasing man he truly is. Get ready to have some fun teasing him and/or helping him establish true confidence.

❧ Expect a lot of praise to fall from his lips. He would admire your successes without being overbearing. In fact, you’d inspire him. A lot. You can also expect a lot of his own songs to center around your success and beauty.

❧ Honestly? Give him musical advice! He’d accept it wholeheartedly; especially if it comes from someone like you. Your career would influence him to grow and learn from his mistakes in the field. You might have a model singer as a boyfriend before the end of the tour! While giving him critique, be sure to praise him just as much. He loves you endlessly, but lots of critique with little praise will leave him feeling a bit insecure. However, I’m sure you know this, as this aspect of his character is far from unnoticeable. Be gentle with him. He deserves it!

❧ If you imagine playing/singing duets with him, you’re on the right track. He’d love to sing for you and hear you sing with him in return. The same can be said for any instrument you may happen to play. He’d eat it right up! You’re his everything, after all.

❧ Will wear your merch—especially merch with your face on it. Please wear his tank top with his face out of respect.

𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ Although some would assume he’d want to stay home for your sake, as he calls himself the most “responsible” brother, I know it wouldn’t be anything like that. Have you seen the way he acts around Nyaa-chan? This guy would ask you daily, disguising his motives with innocent claims. He’s a tricky bastard who should never be underestimated.

❧ “I only want to make sure everything goes smoothly for you!”

❧ “Don’t you need an assistant? Emotional support?”

❧ “If you don’t want me to come, I understand, but I think this could be a learning experience for the both of us!”

❧ While he would be more than willing to be your crutch and sense of normalcy, for he isn’t heartless, we all know he has a weird thing for idols and that would primarily spawn his desire to travel on tour with you. It doesn’t matter if you’re nothing like the idol he praises. You’re close enough and that’s undeniably attractive to him.

❧ The fact that he’s even dating a musician is enough to scare him. Can you imagine how he’d act traveling with one? Pushy and controlling, you’d hardly catch a break, as he’d be riding your ass to get things done and to take care of yourself. If you like that sort of thing, good for you. If you don’t, then you’d need to talk to him about it. Although executed with good intentions, his overbearingness can be... well, overbearing.

❧ Please keep him humble. As we know his ego is the size of the sun, he’d willingly or unwillingly use your existence as his partner to set himself apart from his brothers. Again, we know he already thinks very highly of himself, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he started using your relationship as a boost to get ahead of his “worthless” siblings.

❧ “I’m dating a musician and you five can’t even get jobs!”

❧ However, he’d never you to show him off to the public.

❧ On a more wholesome note, as I feel bad for giving him mostly negative headcanons, his doting-ness would be welcomed as well as detested. On your bad days, he’d be there to comfort you and offer objective solutions. Albeit uncharismatic, he’s rather skilled at speaking and getting his words across when they need to be conveyed properly.

❧ He buys all of your merch and wears the shirts everywhere. Really.

𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ It would take a lot of convincing on your behalf if you desperately want this man to travel with you.

❧ The threat of exposing himself to the public is a deep-rooted fear that keeps him from doing simple things within his mundane life—so one can only imagine the stress that would sit on his shoulders in an environment such as the celebrity one. He’d constantly find himself within ruts and deep pits, trying to stay out of the spotlight.

❧ In that case, he’d be staying home. Let him stay home. However, the problems wouldn’t end there, so you best be on your toes.

❧ Jealousy can overrun the best of us. Ichimatsu couldn’t stomach the idea of going with you in the first place, but that wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts telling him that you’d end up leaving him for another musician who is leagues more talented and better looking. This obviously wouldn’t be your fault; he’s always been disgustingly insecure. A lot of communication would need to be reached: such as phone calls and texts. Although he wouldn’t be clingy, he’d need some frequent reassurance that you, in fact, love him. Praise him for being so sweet for you. Call him handsome as you FaceTime. Hell, write a short song for him.

❧ On another note, you as a musician would literally be his northern star. As a man so shrouded in negativity, seeing you, a person who can communicate feelings through fingers or a voice, shining like the sun whilst on a stage surrounded by thousands, would leave his soul feeling all light and fuzzy. The mere thought that his partner is someone so ethereal would bring him some form of internal peace.

❧ He’d listen to your music every night. It’s how he’d fall asleep.

❧ Surprisingly, he’d be the best at comforting you and helping you stay grounded. He knows what it feels like to feel hopeless.

❧ Sing him to sleep over the phone! If you play an instrument, play for him! Oddly enough, he’d have one of the most prominent adorations for your musical skill out of his brothers. Something about it just warms his heart. You’d impress him to no end and inspire him to try and do something with his life.

❧ He’d name one of his cats after a song of yours!

𝙅𝙔𝙐𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ Undoubtedly, he’d be the most eager to travel out of his brothers. He’d ask you daily, jumping up and down like a hyper puppy. He’d hardly have a reason as to why he’d like to go, but something about it would forever and always appeal to him for some unspoken reason. He might just crave adventure and some excitement.

❧ Are we really surprised?

❧ Identical to a dog, he’d beg. He’d ask with various bone-crushing hugs and weird stares that are hard to deny. He’s not exactly the brightest, but he’s cute and knows it. No, he’s not manipulative, but if he wants to go, he’ll sure try his best to convince you to take him with you.

❧ He compares you to Karamatsu a lot. In good ways, of course.

❧ Upon letting him travel with you, he’d be one of the best distractions on a bad day. Of course you can’t silence discomfort by just “being happy”, but Jyushimatsu sure likes to make you laugh even on your darkest days. He’d be a great listener that lets you spill all of your darkest worries as an artist. He wouldn’t give the best advice, but his presence would be an award in it of itself. Like Osomatsu, his childish nature is a breath of fresh air. He’d also be remarkably skilled at reading how you feel.

❧ Undoubtedly the loudest supporter at your performances. Will go out of his way to make sure his voice is the one you hear screaming over a sea of thousands. Also, I can’t promise he won’t tackle-hug you after performances, let that be offstage or onstage. Be ready!

❧ He’d love wearing your merch—specifically oversized t-shirts with your face on them! Much like Karamatsu, he thinks that’s all sorts of romantic and cute. He could care less about being viewed as weird.

❧ There’s no way you can keep Jyushimatsu out of the public eye. He loves you and he loves having fun! The poor guy would probably have a hard time understanding why he shouldn’t tackle you in front of your fans. Your best bet is to establish some boundaries and come to a conclusion that works best. If I’m being honest, he’d be a harmless public partner. He’s just all smiles and laughter... mostly. (:

𝙏𝙊𝘿𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧ Ultimately, this little bastard is hard to read. He can either be the sweetest man to ever grace the Earth or the most devilish and selfish.

❧ He’d tell you he doesn’t need to go on tour with you, but the answer he’s looking for is a yes. He enjoys playing “hard to get” and wants to come off as responsible and kind. Much like Choromatsu, he knows how to play his social cards and will do what he can to seem like a perfectly indecisive partner who is “totally okay with whatever you want.” That’s a lie. If you wouldn’t allow him to travel with you, he’d try to give you reasons as to why you should let him go. He’s complicated and I won’t sugarcoat that. You’ll find that I try to be realistic with these heavily romanticized NEETs.

❧ Regardless, if and when he goes on tour with you, except to have yet another mini assistant. He’d always try to offer fashion tips and elements of which you should include in your songs to appeal to the public. Although a NEET, he’d have a strong idea of what the fans are looking for and what you could do to be more appealing. However, he’d understand if you’d like to keep up with your own thing and stray from conforming. He’d be fine with whatever you want, but that wouldn’t stop his opinions and tips. Maybe he should become a musician.

❧ He’d get fussy over not having enough of your attention. His degree of fussiness wouldn’t become overbearing, but it’s always important to acknowledge the feelings of your partners to reach a conclusion. Remind him that you love him and he’ll eventually come around.

❧ Easily the best advice-giver. Can both solve your problems or be the shoulder you cry on. He’d be fantastic at helping you through the trials and tribulations that come from being a musician. While he might seem apathetic, he really isn’t and understands just how pressuring expectations can be. This star of hope has seen some things.

❧ Although it may seem easy to assume he’d only be there for the fame, that wouldn’t be his only motivator. He’d truly want to see his beloved grow beyond others. His confidence will skyrocket whilst on tour with you.

❧ He’d design most of your merch: very minimalist designs that fit in with almost all aesthetics. When all is said and done, he’d wear the clothes with pride. What a dork.

❧ Likes to post pictures of you with him on his social medias.

#headcanons #headcanon #osomatsu san #ososan #osomatsu san headcanons #ososan headcanons #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #osomatsu san content

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intergalacticsuperstar · 4 years

Text

Dreamology | Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom is the boy of your dreams...literally. After everything you have been through together with him asleep, will fate finally bring you together while you’re awake?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader, oneshot

Warnings: fluff :) some light angst and a nightmare

Word Count: 5.3k (that’s my longest ever!)

Notes: This is inspired by the book Dreamology by Lucy Keating. Definitely the hardest I’ve ever worked on a oneshot, so please enjoy!

masterlist

----

You raced on the steps of Colosseum, trying to catch up with the boy of your dreams.

“Tom! Wait for me!”

You giggled as Tom reached the top, cheering and jumping up and down.

“Oh my god, Y/N! This is absolutely amazing! I can’t believe you went here!”

Finally, you reached the top, standing next to him, and touching shoulders as you looked over the city of Rome.

“Me either,” you panted, taking it all in. “It was incredible. But, the Colosseum was a little more worn down.”

Tom sighed, happy and content. The two of you stared at the city lights. The lights shined like glitter, and in the sky, the Aurora Borealis shone brightly.

“I also don’t think the Northern Lights can be seen in Rome,” he commented.

You shrugged. “Must be your doing. Or my brain got bored, wanted to throw in something special.”

Tom turned toward you, leaning one arm against the stone of the Colosseum and the other grabbed your hand. You felt butterflies swim up your chest and heat your cheeks.

“This is amazing. Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” you answered while smiling.

He pulled you in, wrapping his arms around you and putting his chin on your shoulder you can look out over the city together.

“Let’s come here every night.”

“It’s your turn tomorrow,” you answered, amused.

“Well, I choose here again. This is beautiful, you are beautiful… I wish I could just stay here forever.”

“Me too.”

You yawned leaning further into him.

“Nooo,” he whined. “Don’t fall asleep. I want to stay with you longer.”

You smiled at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He sighed, kissing your forehead.

“See you tomorrow.”

---

The mornings were always your favorite. For a few blissful moments when you woke up, you could still pretend Tom was there, right next to you, holding you tightly. Every detail was memorized and perfect.

But, ultimately, you had to get up, and you had to face reality.

A reality where Tom doesn’t exist.

The first time Tom showed up in your dreams or you ever really remember dreaming at all, you were seven. Nothing was out of the usual, but when you closed your eyes that night, a boy was there on the other side.

You were standing in a field of rolling green grass. The sun was high and shining, warm on your skin. Ahead, back turned to you, sat a boy your age with curly brown hair. You were confused at who this might be, but not scared.

In fact, you felt safe and comfortable. And you were even aware of the fact that you dreaming, which you hadn’t recalled ever doing before.

You walked towards him slowly. Grass squishing between your toes.

“Hello,” you said when you finally reached him.

He jumped back, surprised. “Oh, hi,” he responded, obviously a little shy.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Tom. Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N.”

Tom smiled at you and you took that as a sign to sit down next to him.

“Where are we?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it’s really pretty.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Want to play tag?”

Tom immediately nodded with a grin and you both stood up, chasing after each other all night.

Looking back, you always laughed at the memory. You were seven so, of course, the first idea that came to your mind was to play a game of tag. But, little did you know, Tom and you were just alike and quickly grew to be best friends.

“We are just dreaming, right?” you asked, sad as you began to grow tired after your long time of playing tag with Tom that first night you dreamt of him.

He looked down.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He grinned and the two of you hugged.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And the next night, you did see him. And you saw him every night after that. Usually, the location changed automatically when you were younger. But, as you both grew older, you learned how to control the dreams and the locations.

The world was at yours and Tom’s fingertips.

You could show each other memories, you could make up places, go to places that you’ve always wanted to go to. But, it was always easier to go to a place in your memories, sometimes adding elements or combining both you and Tom’s memories together.

And, as you grew older, you and Tom fell in love. You had decided that you were soulmates, and each time you fell asleep, you looked forward to being with him. You could be your self with Tom 100%. There was no pretending.

After a bad day, he would comfort you. And you would do the same with him. You’d give each other advice for real-life stuff, and try to make sure that each other were loved and supported.

There were only a few setbacks.

It’s hard to explain, but there were unwritten rules when it came to these dreams, and it didn’t take long before you and Tom figured it out.

For one, you couldn’t give any personal information about yourself besides your first name, age, and birthday. Anything that could hint to a location was barred out. There was no explaining it, you simply could not talk about it.

The memories were also altered to avoid revealing locations. Anything that gave away how to find each other was blurred or changed. For example, when you went to Rome, you couldn’t tell him or show him you were there. But, the moment you left, you could tell him and show him anything you wanted to.

The most you knew about Tom’s actual info, like the stuff you would find on a driver’s license, was that he is a boy, he is the same age as you, his birthday is June 1st, and he has a British accent, which gave you a clue. But for all you knew, he could be British and be living somewhere else entirely.

You couldn’t make plans to meet up. You couldn’t find each other awake. Those were the unwritten rules.

You both hated them, but as you got older, it didn’t matter. You were just happy to have each other when you went to sleep, even if it was kind of weird.

Because your dreams were so uniquely centered around Tom, and they were lucid and vivid, you never related to anyone else when they would talk about their dreams.

“You are telling me you dream up a boy you’ve never met every single night?” your friend asked you one day at lunch in middle school.

“Yeah...is that weird?”

“It’s pretty weird. It happens every night and you remember them?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

“Wild.”

A few years later, another friend would try to get you to forget about Tom.

“Come on, Y/N. How about you try to date someone that’s… I don’t know… real? Dream boy sounds like a dream, but you deserve to have an awake life, too.”

But, you never did find anyone else. Tom had just set too many high expectations for you, and every time you tried to connect with someone, it didn’t stick.

You and Tom avoided talking about real-life relationships as much as possible. It was weird, and it usually made things more complicated. And besides, it was most likely that Tom wasn’t even real anyway, so it was unrealistic to give each other expectations about who to and who not to date in awake life unless the other was asking for advice.

Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. You and Tom loved the time you got together.

You were lying on a hammock on a beach. The waves were crashing, and the sun had been frozen at sunset for a few hours now. You were growing worried. For the first time in your life, Tom was nowhere to be found.

It was year 8 in school. Tom and you had been growing even more cuddly lately. You were both excited for the summer and looking forward to high school.

It was normal to be off a little here and there. Sometimes you would beat him to sleep and other times he would beat you. When you were little, it was easier. You both had a bedtime around the same time. But, once you hit middle school, it became normal for you both to fall asleep at different times. Usually, it was around the same, but sometimes you would go to bed early and he would stay up late doing homework. Or vice versa.

At least you knew that you were on the same or close timezones.

But, at the four-hour mark of him not showing up, it was pretty concerning. You had gone to be pretty late anyway. It was a Friday, so you were free to do whatever you wanted. But, Tom not being here? That was a first.

That four-hour mark hit and you grew frantic. The scene changed from one of a gorgeous sunset to that of a small, dark, stormy island. It was rocky, and you were at the top, alone. You were scared. It was windy, and you were soaked from head to toe, shivering.

You tried to stop it, but the nerves of Tom not showing up anymore made you lose control.

You experienced your first ever nightmare.

Another four hours, and you were miserable, begging to wake up. Worried that Tom was hurt, and you just wanted to be done with this nightmare.

And suddenly Tom was there.

“Y/N!” he screamed, realizing where you and he were.

“Tom?” you screamed back through the rain.

He reached for you, and the moment the two of you touched, the rain lessened. But it didn’t stop entirely.

“Darling, what are we doing here? Are you okay?” he asked frantically, searching you over.

“I-I… I couldn’t control it… you… I was scared…,”

Tom didn’t wait for you to finish your thoughts. Instead, he focused on changing the scene. The next thing you knew, you and him were back on the warm beach. You, however, were still soaked and shivering.

Tom took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. He pulled you down with him, sitting in the sand, and you fell into his chest.

“Where have you been? I-I was so worried,” you said to him.

He sighed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My friend had a birthday party and we ended up staying up all night playing games. I must’ve finally crashed. I didn’t know you would be worried.”

“Oh. I just… I didn’t know what happened. This had never happened before, and the next thing I knew I couldn’t control anything in the scene.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll warn you next time.”

“You better,” you answered, finally smiling at him. Your body suddenly dried and you were wearing new clothes.

You yawned loudly. Tom smirked.

“Already waking up?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You were up all night! Now it’s your turn to spend some time alone.”

“Fine, fine. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

---

As you got older, you longed to know even more about each other. You just wanted to meet him in real life. Or rather, you wanted him to be real. You didn’t want to only have him in your dreams.

You were sitting in floaties in a lazy river of this waterpark you went to one time. Tom was to your right in his own tube.

“So, I have this really cool opportunity coming up,” he mentioned casually.

“Hm?”

You were both 18. It was the summer before your freshman year of college, but it looked like Tom had other plans in mind.

“It’ll be a long process. Probably a whole year. But, if I get it, it could change my entire life.”

“Wow, Tom. That’s amazing. It’s good, I hope?”

He grinned, “Yeah, very good.”

The next thing you knew, Tom was jumping over into your tube and you squealed. The tube expanded to fit both of you, and Tom wrapped you in his arms.

“I hope it works out,” you finally said after you were both settled.

“Me too,” he said and kissed you on the cheek.

---

He never really mentioned it after that. You had no idea what it was, so you figured that whatever it was must’ve put his location in jeopardy. That was another rule you discovered when you got old enough. Careers were off the table.

You had ideas though. You knew it was creative, and you were pretty sure it had something to do with the performing arts. Tom liked to dance and put on little plays for you sometimes.

You, however, were going to college for film production.

It was during your sophomore year that everything changed.

You were with one of your friends who was a total Marvel nerd. You were eating lunch together when she squealed suddenly, causing you to jump.

“What was that all about?” you grumbled, tired from your day of classes. You still had one to go, but you couldn’t wait to get back to your dorm room and relax.

“Marvel just posted who they are casting as Spider-Man! Spider-Man, Y/N! In the MCU! This is absolutely nuts!”

You chuckled, but you didn’t really care. You had seen most of the Marvel films, but you weren’t really obsessed like your friend was.

“Oooh, he’s pretty cute,” your friend said.

She turned her phone around to show you and you immediately froze, the cup that you were setting down now stuck in mid-air in your hand.

It was Tom. Your Tom.

Your friend was starting to feel awkward when you finally unfroze from the spell.

“Give me that!” you said, snatching the phone out of her hand.

“Hey,” she whined but didn’t really care.

Your heart, however, was beating out of your chest. Fingers shaking, you scrolled through the article, barely reading the words. All you could focus on was the pictures and the name.

Tom Holland.

“What is it?” your friend asked, gazing at you with a curious expression.

“I-uh… I have to go.”

You stood quickly, gathering your things. You made the easy decision to skip your next class, and went back to your dorm room.

You set down everything haphazardly on your bed and went to your desk to open your laptop. The name ‘Tom Holland’ immediately went into the search bar, pulling up mostly articles about the Spider-Man announcement. But, finally, you found an IMDb page that showed everything he was in before.

Just to think, at any time in the past few years, you could’ve accidentally watched one of his movies and discovered him long ago.

Would the rules change now? Would you be able to talk about him to him? You started getting excited for the night.

---

Of course, hours later, you were so nervous and excited you couldn’t fall asleep. You sighed, frustrated, checking the time to see 1:01 am. Tom was probably already asleep and waiting for you. It was another hour before you finally crashed.

“About time,” Tom says when you enter the dreamland.

He’s smiling-- no, he’s glowing. He looks radiant and powerful, and full of joy. If you weren’t so focused on revealing what you know, you probably would have just kissed him all night.

You are in his bedroom, the one from when he was little. The bed sheets are Spider-Man themed and he has trophies on the wall. You had a feeling you knew why Tom chose this place tonight over another. Sometimes the subconscious chooses for you. A time where Spider-Man was only a dream must be on his.

He’s sat up on the bed, leaning on his arms casually, looking at you as you stand in the sunshine coming through the window.

“Thomas Stanley Holland,” you said, punctuating each word. “Your parents are Dominic and Nikki Holland. You live in London, England. You're an actor. You used to be Billy Elliot. And now, you are the next Spider-Man.”

You finished with a smile, matching his grin.

“You know,” is all he said, eyes full of wonder.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

You jumped onto his bed, and he wrapped you into a big hug.

“The rules must’ve changed,” you said.

“At least for me, anyway. I still don’t know about you.”

“Maybe you will, someday. Now that I know you are real and not a figment of my imagination.”

After that, the two of you spent the rest of the night figuring out the logistics. Your instinct was to immediately go find him. Now that you had his info, you could meet up. The problems were that you still couldn’t talk about meeting up, Tom knew nothing about you, and the topic sort of… made him nervous.

“Don’t you think finding each other would mean… I don’t know, upsetting the cosmos?” he said, when you brought up the topic.

“Upsetting the cosmos?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “Since when have we cared about upsetting the cosmos?”

He sighed, clearly trying to not upset you, but knowing that he probably would.

“Look, it’s just that… we already have an amazing gig here. We get to be with each other every night. Do whatever we want. And there’s these rules… that are clearly controlled. So what happens when we do exactly what those rules have tried to prevent us from?”

You stared at him.

“We get to be together, Tom. For real. People don’t think I’m crazy because I’m obsessed with the boy in my head.”

“I just don’t think we should rush into this. Trust me, darling, I want to see you too. But, I also don’t want to ruin what we have. Besides, my memories from these dreams have always been different than yours. What if I don’t remember you out there? What if we meet and we forget because we upset the cosmos?”

You rolled your eyes. “You're being superstitious.”

“I’m being careful.”

You turned away from him.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching for your hand. “I’m sorry. Please, do you understand?”

You sighed, finally looking at him again.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Despite your general anger, things cleared up between you two pretty quickly. You never could argue for long, but this little debate lasted over a week. You were upset and you felt like he didn’t want you in his life.

Nonetheless, he kept reassuring you, making you know that he loved you, and trying to make it up to you. He really was just paranoid and worried what would happen if the two of you met in real life.

---

Time passed.

And as it did, things changed.

A lot of things.

The first year or so, it was fine. Everything was great. But then, Captain America: Civil War came out. Tom Holland’s popularity was growing.

Tom began to have more responsibilities with press work. He got signed to more movie roles, and soon he was jet-setting across the world.

That was the worst part, you thought. When he was traveling and the timezones changed, you often didn’t see each other for days. You hated it.

One time, you didn’t see him for almost two weeks, and it would’ve been longer if he hadn’t forced himself to take a nap so he could see you.

When he finally would come back, he was exhausted, and instead of wanting to talk, he usually just wanted to cuddle in some dream cloud. This was fine, of course. You were just happy to have him back, but for the first time in your life, Tom wasn’t always there to talk to you.

And as the fame grew, so did the inconsistency.

It was just hard to line sleeping schedules up. You were busy with school, him with his career. It was also weird because while you knew everything about him, he didn’t know anything about you.

Sure, he knew you. He knew you better than anyone. But, he didn’t even know your last name. Or where you lived. Or what you were studying.

During the day, Tom didn’t have to be reminded over and over every time he got on social media that you were out there in the world and he couldn’t see you. But, that’s what you had to deal with.

Now, it really wasn’t all bad. It was just different sometimes than what you had been used to your entire life. There were still plenty of nights that it was just the same old Tom and you, causing trouble, laughing all night, holding each other in each other’s arms.

There were still plenty of the good moments. It was just strange that there were some bad moments. Those never happened before.

---

A couple years passed, and you finally graduated school. It was time to dive into the work field and as a film production major, the place to do that was in LA.

You and Tom were sitting at the top of an old stone castle. It was sunset, and you guys were having a picnic. This was one of the better nights as of recently. Tom wasn’t working, so he was home.

He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in the light of the sunset.

“So,” you began. “I have some news.”

Tom perked up, looking at you. He gave you a slight smile.

“Oh yeah?”

You smiled back, a little nervous. It was always hard to talk about where the two of you were going. The “cosmos” as Tom had started to call it in the past few years prevented you from saying anything. Even when Tom went on business trips, you never knew where he was exactly until he got back.

“Yeah,” you responded. “I’m… I’m moving. For my career.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised.

“Oh. Oh, that’s… that’s great. You’re moving… like far?”

You nodded. “Like different timezones far.”

“Wow, well, I’m happy for you. I still think it’s unfair you get to know my career but I don’t know yours.”

You smiled, laying your head against his chest.

“Yeah, well, you just had to go and become famous.”

He wrapped his arms around you.

“Are you excited to move?” he asked quietly after a moment.

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so. I think it’ll be my best chance at a good opportunity.”

“That’s wonderful, love. Whatever it is, I know you’ll be great.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at you.

“I love you, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but grin, reaching up and giving him a soft kiss.

“I love you too.”

He yawned and carded his hand through your hair. It was his tell-- you knew he was about to wake up.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

---

It took awhile, and a lot of hard work, but before you knew it, you were steady on your feet in Los Angeles, the film capital of the world.

During this time, you and Tom were still close. The timezones thing didn’t end up being too big of an issue most of the time.

After a bit of time though, you got an exciting gig, working on a new big movie. There were some big stars in the cast, and you would be working in the camera department. Already, people were saying this movie could be an Oscar contender, so to say the least, you were ecstatic.

It was your first day on set. You were setting up some cameras that the Director of Photography had instructed you to do. A lot of the crew was milling around. Today was the first scene with actual actors, and you were excited to meet them.

You were pretty sure the last you heard the lead was Timothée Chalamet.

The door to the studio opened, and you heard the director cheer in the distance.

“Ah wonderful!” she, the director, said.

You were tightening a tripod when the director continued talking.

“Everyone! Can I get your attention?”

The whole room quieted down as people turned their heads to the director. You finished tightening the tripod as she said, “I know things have been hectic trying to get the cast secured… Unfortunately, Timothée Chalamet had to drop out of this film in favor of another.”

Finally, you looked up.

“Luckily,” she continued, “We got Tom Holland to sign on last minute.”

You froze.

Your eyes were wide.

Your heart was pounding.

There was blood rushing to your head.

You weren’t even breathing.

Instead, your eyes were locked on him.

On Tom.

Your Tom.

Your living and breathing Tom who was standing 10 yards away from you in full costume for the role.

He smiled at everyone, waving, and then, his eyes locked to yours.

You couldn’t even smile or try to do anything; you just stared at him in complete and utter shock.

He was staring too. For a moment. And then another. His eyes were wide. Another moment passed. And then his face went slack, like it wasn’t phased at all, and continued to smile at the crowd.

The director said some more stuff that you didn’t hear, and before long, everyone was back to work. You didn’t move. At least, you didn’t move until the DP came over to you, nudging you on the shoulder.

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “It’s time to film the first scene for today.”

You shook out of your trance.

“Uh, right, right. Sorry, yeah. Let’s do this.”

That entire day was torture. You were focus pulling the camera, making sure the actor, Tom, was in focus no matter how much he or the camera moved. It was a hard enough job how it was, but now? Now, it was extremely difficult. Your hands were shaking the whole day. You weren’t even sure if you took a full breath once.

When it was finally over, and the last scene of the day wrapped, Tom made a swift exit, heading out to get his makeup off and costume off. You had to help pack up the cameras with the crew.

You were moving extremely fast, trying to get done, and the moment that you were, you darted off to the costume trailers, praying he was still there.

He was, and you barged in. Thankfully, he was already dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He was in the process of tying his shoes when you came in. Luckily, no one else was there.

He looked up, surprised. You froze again.

“Can I help you?” he finally said.

You frowned. The boy you knew better than anyone was right in front you, and it was like he didn’t even know you.

“Do you… do you remember me?”

He shook his head slowly.

“I’m sorry. I don’t.”

He gulped, and you squinted at him.

It was quiet as the two of you stared at each other.

“You’re lying,” you finally said, shocked.

“What?” he responded quickly. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” you exaggerated, pointing your finger at him. “You always do that gulp thing when you are lying!”

He stared at you, tense for a moment before sighing and slumping against the counter.

“Aha!” you exclaimed. “See! Why did you lie to me?”

You were surprised at how natural it felt. You thought for sure that you would be frozen and nervous while trying to speak to him, but right now, the two of you together. It felt natural. Like it was just an ordinary dream.

Except this time, it was real life.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said, looking over with a pained smile. “I… I panicked.”

“Because of the cosmos? Well,” you said, lifting your arms out and looking around, “looks like nothing has exploded yet.”

You and Tom stared at each other, smiles slowly and slowly growing until both of you were grinning.

He flew out of his seat and pulled you into a hug, spinning you around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is real! Are you sure we aren’t dreaming?” he said.

You giggled, and he set you down, hands still on your arms.

“I’m pretty sure we aren’t,” you said, and unexpectedly tears welt in your eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he said, lifting his palm to your cheek. You set your hand over his.

You giggled again, tears falling. Tom also got nervous when you cried.

“I’m just so happy. I- I can’t believe it.”

“Me either, darling. But here we are.”

He looked deeply into your eyes, and you felt like melting. You felt like you were dreaming in real life. You finally understood what people meant to feel like that.

“Y/N?”

He said your name. He said it so softly that the world could have suddenly disappeared and your name would still go on drifting into eternity. You loved the way he said your name, and to hear it in real life, in person, while awake, it was something truly magical.

“Tom?”

He pushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“I love you,”

You giggled again, and he smiled and poked your nose.

“I love you too,” you responded, barely believing that this was happening.

And he pulled you in for the most magical kiss you had ever shared.

---

That night, there was a lot of talking. You went back to his place, and you told each other everything… everything you didn’t know anyway. (Which truthfully wasn’t much, but was still a lot).

He learned your full name, and kept saying it over and over. You were pretty sure he never stopped smiling the whole night. You didn’t either.

You told him about your career, about living in LA. You talked about each other’s hometowns which was an exciting first for both of you. One you had been wondering about forever.

Turns out, Tom’s brothers, Harry and Sam, who you definitely knew, (Sometimes they appeared in Tom’s memories.) knew about Tom’s dreams. You never really told anyone in your family about them, but Tom was pretty excited to call them and introduce you to them. They thought the whole situation was fascinating.

You continued to talk to Tom for the whole night. You snuggled up with him in bed, and you both just rambled and rambled about all the things you were never allowed to talk about before.

You don’t even remember falling asleep, you just know that you did because the next thing you knew, you were on an airplane.

For a little, you barely noticed you were dreaming… sometimes it was like that. But when you did, you sat up in your seat, looking for Tom. He wasn’t there yet. You got annoyed with the airplane and changed the scene to somewhere in your hometown. Somewhere you had never been allowed to show before.

Meaning, the rules must’ve changed. You can show Tom everything now.

It didn’t take him long to get there, excited as soon as he saw you. You embraced and both rejoiced in the fact that you didn’t have to lose this special part of your lives.

“Guess the restrictions are gone now. Tom… this is my hometown.”

You spent half the night showing him your “restricted” memories and the other half looking at his. You made promises to go there in real life.

And when you finally settled down with him on a large tree branch, somewhere majestic and beautiful, you didn’t grow sad when you both started to get tired and you knew it was almost time to wake up.

Because when you woke up in the morning, you weren’t alone. Tom was right next to you. He had his arms around you. You were awake.

And just like that, the boy of your dreams was now your reality.

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

AN: Thanks for reading! I worked super hard and long on this, so please let me know what you think :)

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sweetkyu · 4 years

Text

blue | sunwoo

genre: angst, fluff.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol.

word count: 3.7k

n/a: i was inspired by some of jaden's songs to write this fic, this is the first time i post something so be kind hehe

i lost the count of how long i was standing in the middle of my living room, watching the rain fall down through the balcony door, holding onto my cup of chamomile tea with both hands. my mind had already given all the laps around the world as i just stood there. eyes locked to the world outside. empty head, no thoughts. nothing but kim sunwoo breaking into tears when i decided to end our relationship, three months ago. every day has been painful and sorrowful like this, since then. of course sometimes i can manage to just take a deep breath and try to live a day without thinking too much about it. today is the worst day until now because it's the day we would complete five years of dating, that is if we were together. to celebrate it, we had plans of traveling to norway to see the northern lights, a dream we dreamed together since we were kids.

i met kim sunwoo way before he became the boyz' main rapper sunwoo. i could never think that i would be this crazy in love with him when we met, but we don't know nothing about fate, i guess. and me and sunwoo, we were destined to be together, made for each other just like adam and eve. we have so much in common, we share the same dreams, we want to achieve the same things. our moms were university best friends, we didn't have much contact as kids, until the day our mothers decided to put us on the same school to study together... but why would they do that? nobody ever thought we were going to fall in love with each other, but when it happened, to our families it was just perfect. however, ten years after the first day in school together and here we are, here i am completely devastated and drowned in regret, chasing for sunwoo in every place. i thought i would be strong after all these years of relationship, after all the silly fights and misunderstandings i thought i would be able to ignore everything and stay by him, for him. and still i didn't.

his fans knew everything about us, since we started dating before he debuted. i was always there, at all concerts, fanmeetings, music shows. whenever i had the time, i was there in the backstage. deobis were mostly okay with us being together, some of them had social media accounts dedicated for us, i would see everything... and by everything, i mean literally. especially the fans who would hate me and send me messages saying that they wanted me dead, that sunwoo would be better off without me and so much more. that was when i became weak and started to believe in them. that was when my life became a mess in all areas, i was going through a major crisis in my job, my father was sick, some close friends stopped talking to me for no reason at all and sunwoo was on a one-month tour in japan. i was feeling lost, lonely, and i had to do something.

it was raining just like today on that night. i was preparing another cup of tea for me, my third round that day, when he got into the apartment. sunwoo was happy that he was finally home, he would tell stories about the tour and i would just pretend i was listening to them. he could notice something was off and asked me about it. in a whisper i replied him, "i wanna break up". it got silent for long and hard seconds, until i collected courage enough to look at him. the most painful thing i've ever seen, little did i know that scene would be tattoed in my mind for months. beautiful round eyes that i adore so much locking the tears so they wouldn't fall down, he nibbled at his bottom lip before asking "are you serious?" and i took a deep breath before nodding my head as a yes. sunwoo, then, began with the questions, demanding to know where all of that came from considering that we were so happy together. i was rude in my answers, saying that i was tired of the relationship and that i needed some time for myself. moments later and sunwoo went out, slamming the door behind him after i claimed that was the end.

i've been living under this nightmare ever since, hating myself more every second because i was the one who put myself under this situation, who put sunwoo under this situation. for the past six months i had to just watch sunwoo through his work and social media, and sometimes i would know two or three things about him through chanhee, his fellow groupmate and best friend. chanhee was the only one who knew the truth about the break up and i made him swear he wouldn't tell no one, especially sunwoo, and so he did. in exchange, three months after, chanhee let me know about a mixtape sunwoo would release, mixtape which came out earlier today at midnight. i was kinda excited about this, it is his first solo work and i know how much he wanted to create something with his own touch, his own feeling. the mixtape is called 'blue' and it has only four songs, each named with every letter of the word blue. the songs tell a story on their own, so they make better sense if listened in order and all at once. in the lyrics, he talks about everything he had won as an artist and all that he lost because of that, all in a confused mix of feelings, sometimes full of anger and other times he would sound calm, and it's pretty clear that he is talking about me when he mentions a girl. since his group is now one of the most popular boy groups in korea, it didn't take long for his so waited mixtape to reach #1 in all digital platforms. i was so happy for him and so proud of his work, i even typed a text to send him but i just couldn't press the send button. instead, i expressed my happiness to chanhee, who was extremely comprehensive like always.

as expected, i spent the entire day of today listening to this goddamn mixtape. every time i would hear his painful words it was like someone was putting a knife into my heart and, oh god, why did i brought so much suffering into this boy's life? this question kept on hammering my head the entire day until i decided i wouldn't listen to it anymore. i finished my shift at work without listening to any music, the background sound would be enough to make me company. i got into the subway with my coworkers just like any other day, they would say something about going out since it was friday and i would pretend i had some other important thing to do. and now, looking at all this rain that is falling outside, i think it was the best i could have done. i look at the clock ticking on the wall and although it's not even 10pm i decide to call it a day. i turn off the tv, let the empty mug by the kitchen sink and drag myself to the bedroom, laying down on my bed, getting comfortable around my pillows and under my fluffy blanket, letting the sleep take full control of my body.

it's still dark outside when i finally managed to free myself from the dream i was having. a dream where everything was fine and i could be found inside sunwoo's loving arms again, feeling his heart beat against mine, smelling his scent, hearing his sweet nothings being whispered at me. but then, so sudden, i looked deep into his eyes and recalled that it was only a dream. i would cry so hard while he would just look at me with a smile on his face. it's been a while since i had dreams like this one. i woke up with tears falling from my eyes, body shaking from head to toes. it took me a while to calm down, when i finally did i decide to have a glass of cold water. after going to the kitchen to drink it, i find my forgotten cellphone onto the dinner table. once i unlock it, i find some unread messages from chanhee.

[00:14] choi chanhee: y/n, i'm sorry but i think it's better for me to tell you

[00:14] choi chanhee: we were at a bar, sunwoo was drunk and started talking about you, saying he had to see you and he left

[00:15] choi chanhee: anyways he is going to your place, we couldn't stop him i'm sorry

[00:15] choi chanhee: call any of us if he acts weird okay? he seems to be out of himself this days...

i let out a heavy sigh after seeing the messages were sent forty minutes ago, he will be here any time soon. to see sunwoo right now is what i want the most, surely, without any doubts. i miss him with everything that i have. but at the same time i don't feel ready enough for this, i'm not in my best moment, i don't know how i will react when i look at him; once it will be our first encounter after everything that happened between us. without noticing, i start pacing back and forth in my living room, feeling confused and nervous, anxiety growing inside me one more time that night and i feel my legs losing their strength, i sit by the couch as i try to take deep breaths in order to calm myself down again. this can't be happening, this can't be happening, this-- my thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell, followed by knocks on the door. i don't know how but i manage to get up and walk to the door with my jelly-like legs. i don't need to check before opening it. just like i had dreamed moments ago, sunwoo is right in front of me. dark circles around his beautiful eyes, the tip of the nose a bit red and he smells like he has been drinking and smoking for the past few hours. he is wearing black hoodies, black pants and black converse. all black, just the way he likes. i'm still giving no reactions, blinking at the sight of him, hoping for this to be another dream.

"hi" it’s all i can say.

"c-chanhee told me, y/n" he hiccups, taking a deep breath after "he told me everything" i look at him, trying to come up with a sentence but i just can't talk "a-about the haters and how that made you break up with me"

"sunwoo, i--" i stop in the middle of the sentence, couldn't finish because he literally jumped into my arms. a couple minutes later, i close the door behind us before readjusting his arms around me. with the head against his chest i can feel his heart bumping fast and his chin hovering above my head, and somehow it is recomforting. we stay like this for a couple moments, i stop feeling nervous and anxious as i feel his arms around me, calming me down, until his sobbing come into my ears "are you okay?" he nods, kissing the top of my head.

"i just..." i lift my head to look at him, red teary eyes looking deep into my eyes "why didn't you tell me, y/n? huh?" he holds my face with both hands "you can't do this, my love. how can you believe in what other people say when you know i'll love you forever?" he puts his forehead against mine and mumbles "please come back to me, i miss you so much"

"sunwoo..." i take a deep breath and whisper "i don't know..."

"please, my love, please... i do anything!" his breath smells like alcohol "if you want me to leave the group, i'll do that right now!"

"stop saying nonsense, you know you can't do that!" i shake off his hands away slightly and he seems pretty offended, getting some steps away and looking back at me with angry but still sad eyes, tears now running down his cheeks without permission. a muscle in his jaw twitches making him look scary, yet i'm not afraid.

"it isn't nonsense! it's the truth!" he shouts "how could you believe those words when i am madly in love with you?--" sunwoo paces around the living room, hands messing his hair as if he was having an attack.

"sunwoo, you're screaming--"

"i can't eat, i can't sleep! all i can think about is you!" he takes a deep breath “i have my own pride! you can’t do this to me--”

"it's late, please lower your voice--"

“you can’t just leave me sick like this!” i scratch my forehead at his screamed words “you can’t throw away what we had, not this way!”

“sunwoo, please--”

"why did you have to do this?” he goes on “we've been together for so long, how could you let us just fall all apart?"

"sunwoo..."

"i can't breathe when you're not with me, y/n! fuck!" he slaps the flower pot that once was on top of the table, making it fall into the ground and break into pieces.

"oh my god, kim sunwoo! stop acting like crazy! look what you did!" he stares at me, gasping. i feel my cheeks getting red at the sudden wave of mixed feelings.

"i'm s-sorry" sunwoo looks to the ground and sighs before dropping on his knees, hysterically sobbing "it hurts so much, y/n. you're my everything! i can't stay away from you anymore" he lets out while crying "now why... why would you?" i don't know what to do, but i still keep watching him while holding back some tears.

it doesn't take too much until i can't take this agonizing scene anymore. i know he is tired and confused and i'm definitely not on the mood to fight, that's why i kneel down in front of him and let my hands cup his cheeks. i lift his head, taking a good look at his face as i start to wipe his teardrops away, still fighting back my tears, feeling my heart break into tiny little pieces "why don't you take a shower so you can calm down and then if you're not too tired we talk this through, huh? what do you say?" he opens a sad smile and nods, softly leaning his head against my hand as he searches for more of my touches.

with a certain difficulty, i manage to get him back on his feet but somehow he lost his balance, hardly being able to stand on his feet, so i help him walk to the bathroom while he keeps on muttering that he is sorry for everything and that he wants me back, making this even harder. once we are in the bathroom, i help him with his clothes before pushing him under the shower, i open the faucet, letting the water fall on his head.

"ah! it's cold!" he complains in a hiss, hugging his now naked body.

"i know, but you need it" i close the bathroom shower door, hearing as he mumbles something about not having extra clothes, making me sigh at the fact that he had forgotten that he owns at least three drawers in my dresser.

i walk back to the living room and clean up the mess sunwoo made. when finished, i decide to have a couple more glasses of water to calm down. i still can't believe this is happening. i draw in a long breath as i walk to the bedroom, i open one of sunwoo's drawers, which is exactly the same way it was the day he left. i pick up some clothes for him and soon when i stop hearing the sound of the water falling, i get back into the bathroom to hand sunwoo his clothes. he shyly thanks me before i walk out the room to give him some privacy. few minutes go by until sunwoo shows up in the room, wearing the navy blue pajamas i picked for him, dragging his body to the bed, where i am sitting on.

"i'm sorry, my love. sorry i'm a mess up" he mumbles, stopping in front of me, just by the look on his eyes i can feel that he is completely exhausted, like he would sleep for an entire day if he could. i don't say much, sighing only before getting up to take his hand and sit him down on the bed. i take the towel away from his hands and start to dry off his hair. i feel his hand touch my waist lightly, his thumbs caressing my skin over the material of my shirt, touches ever so soft just like his voice when he whispered "don't be mad at me"

"i'm not" i quickly answer back.

"yes, you are. you're not even looking at me, y/n" he puts his hands on my hands, making any movement of mine stop and then i finally look into his now swollen eyes, all i can see is sadness and sorrow.

"i'm not mad, sunwoo. i just don't like seeing you like that," i try not to cry but it's barely impossible "it makes me sad and it's even worse to know that you're suffering because of me" he wraps his arms around my waist when i drop the towel to the bed, covering my face as i sob uncontrollably.

i find shelter in sunwoo's arms moments later, when he makes me sit on his lap. i curl myself up inside his embrace, snuggling my nose on his neck and feeling his fingers going back and forth on my skin, sometimes he would kiss my temper and whisper some words, reminding me that he was there with me, calming me down.

"i'm so, so sorry for all of this" i hear myself saying after long minutes went by, he holds my face on his hands, looking deep into my crying eyes "i was weak and made us suffer this badly" he nods at my words "i was in a bad place back then, i thought you wouldn't understand and got us all stuck in this even worse nightmare" he runs his thumb across my cheeks, wiping away some teardrops "i should've talked to you but i was afraid..."

"there was nothing for you to be afraid of, my love... we would have talked this through and find a solution together" i bob my head in comprehension as i feel his fingers put a lock of my hair behind my ear, tears falling silently this time "just like we will find one now, you are not alone. i’m with you, y/n"

"i'm so happy that you are here, sunwoo..." i let out in a whisper and i can watch his lips curve into a smile "i tried to text you before but i just couldn't" he nods.

"i understand, y/n. and it's totally fine" we grin at each other “and i’m sorry i didn’t call all this time and--” he is interrupted by a sudden yawn that makes us laugh, he apologizes right after "sorry, my love, i'm just feeling tired" he blinks lazily as i cross my hand through his hair.

"no, babe, i'm sorry for putting you up to this at this time, we should've talked in the morning" sunwoo shakes his head in denial, mumbling that it's okay "let's call it a day, shall we?" he nods once again that night.

"perfect idea, my love" i smile at him.

my hand fall from his hair to his chin as i put the other one on his shoulder. i lean myself and only closed my eyes after i saw sunwoo closing his, i get closer and closer until our lips locked. our kiss is small at first, slow and soft as if we were afraid of hurting each other but soon it grew bigger and full of desire. it was like my kiss had woken him up, his hands are now everywhere; first holding my cheeks then running down my arms until he got them on my waist, pulling me closer as if it is even possible. my own hands flew to the back of his head without me even notice and i feel his ones running up and down my spine, then holding me close.

"i love you, y/n" he mumbles in between our making out session, lowering his kisses down my neck and shoulder.

"i love you too, love you so much" i let out in a whine, panting under his caresses and this makes him smile. sunwoo stops all the kissing and leans his body backwards for a moment, taking his time to look on my face. good thing is that i can take a good look at his as well. he is gasping through his big and swollen red lips, black hair still a bit humid because i didn't make a good job at drying them, beautiful and swollen eyes that had stopped crying now stare at me with passion, making me feel like i am the prettiest woman on the planet, shirt all messy on his body and i swear this is the most beautiful scene i have seen, the dim lights from the bedside lamp only helping him to look even better.

"please don't you ever leave me again, my love" sunwoo prays in a whisper, one hand going up my cheek and i put mine above it "i don't know what i'll do without you" i lean my head to give his caressing hand a kiss.

"i'm not going anywhere" a smile dances on his lips and then he pulls me closer, making us fall on the bed and laugh together at it, before sunwoo kisses me again.

three months ago when he left, i could feel an emptiness growing inside of me, as if sunwoo had taken a piece of me along with him. but now i can assure that the hollow space i was feeling before sunwoo entered my apartment earlier today, that feeling is gone. kim sunwoo had always been that one source of happiness in my life and i don't know how i had the courage to doubt that nor how i managed to live all this time without him. again, we are like adam and eve. we are not perfect, we make mistakes, we are simply soulmates, born to be together. and i know that from now on i'm going to be fine, we are going to be happy.

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 4 years

Text

Northern Lights

Maul x Reader

A/N: I’m back at it again with another Maul fic! This is a cute idea that was suggested to me by @justalittlecloud! I needed and idea and they didn’t let me down! I kind of made up a story for the Northern Lights in the Star Wars Universe since I couldn’t find anything with a quick search. Did I take beats from Romeo and Juliet? Yes. And did I take inspiration from an Estonian myth? Absolutely. I just hope it’s a good story! ALSO! If you’d like to be tagged in my Starwars, or Maul-specific writings, or any other writings that I post, feel free to let me know!

Original Imagine/Summary Kinda Thingy: Maul is curious about the Northern Lights!

Warings: None, just cute, sweet, cotton-candy fluff!

Word Count: 2,322.....this was supposed to be short.....whoops.....

“Come on Maul! It’s just a few feet further! We just have to cross this little creek, and get through that bit of underbrush ahead of us.” You explained excitedly as you all but drug Maul up the side of the mountain.

“My love, I know that you know what you’re doing, but are you absolutely sure that we’re going to the right place? This seems pretty out of the way, and we lost the trail a while back.” Maul stopped walking and pointed behind him, taking you by surprise.

You turned and snickered at him with a smile.

“Of course hun! I wouldn’t just take you to some random planet and travel far off a mountain trail if I didn’t know what I was doing! I’ve done this a thousand times dear. It is my home planet after all. And my favorite place on that planet no less.” You gave Maul a smirk, and he gave you an unsure look.

“Alright. I trust you, but if you get us lost, I’ll hold it over you until the day we die.” He joked with scrutiny, pointing an accusing finger at you. Still, beneath his uncertainty, he could feel your excitement and certainty through the force, and it sent a endeared warmth through his chest. You were so cute when you were excited.

“We won’t get lost dear. I promise! We’re almost there!”

You smiled as he gave in, and let you take his hand again to lead him.

You and Maul had been married for a year now. Today was your anniversary, and you wanted to do something special for him. You had to admit that coming to your home planet was a little personal pleasure just for you, but you wanted to share it with Maul, and show him something you knew he would never forget. And where better than your favorite spot in the galaxy (besides at his side of course)?

When you pushed away the last of the underbrush Maul’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened. Before him lay paradise. From the top of the cliff he could see the emerald, mountainous valley for miles. The river than ran through was thin and shining like a silver ribbon under the night sky. And that sky. He had never seen so many stars in his life. Never had darkness been so beautiful.

He was brought back to you by your chiming giggle. He didn’t even realize that you had let go of his hand, and sat on a blanket you had laid out presumably hours before you had brought him here. He closed his mouth which had fallen open at the sight of this paradise. He hadn’t realized that had happened either.

As Maul joined you on the blanket, you smiled to him. You were surrounded by soft light from the many little candles you had lit around you. The glowing light brushed your cheek with gold, and shined off the silk dress you wore. For a moment he forgot about the valley and the stars. You were so beautiful. Enchanting and alluring in this paradise.

You giggled again, amused by his stunned silence.

“I was much the same the first time I saw this place. It’s gorgeous during the day, but the night makes this place indescribable. The glittering stars, and the silver river. It’s like magic. It’s paradise for me.”

Maul was finally able to gather his thoughts into some semblance of a coherent sentence. There was so much he wanted to say, and it all wanted to spill out at once.

“This place is...you’re...everything here is just....perfect.” He said, “Everything here is perfect.”

He breathed out, looking from the valley, to you again with all the adoration in the galaxy.

Joy beamed through you and through your smile. Maul felt it wave through the force as you hugged him. He melted. He fell into the hug, and all but crushed you. Maybe, if he hugged you tight enough, you would be able to feel all the love, appreciation, adoration, devotion, and everything else he felt for you in it’s full measure. If only words could be passed from skin to skin.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” He murmured into the crook of your neck.

“Of course my love. Only the best for our anniversary.”

Maul pulled away with a suspicious look.

“You’ve had this planned for months haven’t you?” He teased, knowing full well your meticulous tendencies.

You chuckled, and pulled away to look him in the eyes, hands slacking around his neck to rub the skin at the base of his neck.

“Perhaps.” You gave him a mischievous look paired with a smirk.

“The cutest smirk in the galaxy.” He thought.

He laughed at your ambiguous response, though he knew the real answer.

“Well, then I will happily enjoy whatever it is you have planned my dear.” He said as he pulled you in close beside him. You merely smiled at him in a way that said that you were indeed hiding something.

He had his suspicions about your plan. There was certainly something he wanted to do tonight, though that could wait if need be. He wondered what exactly it was that you were so excited to show him. What could make this paradise better? He never could have guessed what was in store for him.

“Don’t worry love. That which I want to show you will show up soon.” You promised, “Until then...”

You held his face, and turned his gaze from the stars to you.

For the first time tonight, he really looked at you. His eyes met yours, soft and deep as he watched you, memorizing the colors of your irises and the candlelight glowing within them. His eyes wandered slowly to follow the curve of your cheek, and when he reached your lips, his thumb brushed gently against them. His eyes didn’t leave your lips until you looked down, bashful because of his intense gaze.

“Hey,” he cupped your jaw with his hand, and gently nudged you to look up at him, “Don’t look away from me.”

His whisper sent a shutter down your spine and sharp inhale through your lips.

He stayed there. Staring at you with adoration and a little something more.

There was a beat of silence before he took a shaky, laboured breath in.

“May I?”

His voice was breathy; desperate and he cupped your cheek, glowing with candlelight.

You chuckled a little, and looked into his wanting eyes.

“Of course you can my love. We’re married remember. You don’t have to ask every time you want to kiss me.” Your hand held his to your face as you smiled back up at him.

His lips crashed to yours. They melded together as though they were made for each other long ago when the universe was first born. Your hands reached out to hold his handsome face.

His touch traveled to your waist, and ran up your sides, pulling your frame in to press against him. He could feel the silhouette of your body beneath the silk of your gown. His hands wandered and rubbed at the fabric, feeling it wrinkle under his fingertips, barely protecting you from his searing touch. Oh how he wanted you to touch him. He wanted to feel your skin on his, your hands on his bare chest. Your lips on his neck. Oh he needed you to cool the burning desire in his soul.

But before he could make his desires known, he felt you begin to pull away. His lips followed yours, unwilling to let you go. He tightened his hand around your waist and gave a disappointed whimper at your persistence. He never wanted to stop kissing you.

You chuckled into his kiss, and held him back by his shoulder.

“I know my love. I’d adore to kiss you more, but there’s something I have to show you...Look off to the horizon.” You whispered to him, pointing out to the edge of the world.

He pouted, but he was curious, as always, so Maul turned his head and when he saw what lay on the horizon, his eyes blew wide, and your smile grew wider.

“Wha-what is it?” His smooth voice was filled with wonder at what he saw.

The night sky had grown darker. Deeper. The stars were still shining, but cutting through that darkness, and through the stars were bright, beautiful ribbons of lights, cascading down to the horizon. Blues and greens danced between the mountains, and the river ran silver below.

“It’s called Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights.” You explained, endeared by his curiosity.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered.

He was transfixed. His eyes were filled with whimsy, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled as wide he could, and he didn’t think of anything else. The hues from the sky mirrored in his eyes, and you couldn’t look away from them if you wanted to.

“What are they?” His voice pulled you from your state of admiration.

You blinked and collected your thoughts.

“Do you want the scientific answer, or the legend I was always told.” You asked.

“Either.” His voice was breathy again, but this time it was filled with wonder; He still hadn’t looked away. He looked at the sky the way he looked at you.

“I’ll start with the legend then.” You smiled, and scooted closer to Maul, laying your head on his shoulder, your arm reaching up to rub his back, “The story goes that there were once two lovers who were bonded by the Force. Their love ran stronger than any in the galaxy,” You noticed Maul grimace in reaction, and you huffed in amusement, knowing full well his opinion on that detail, “But despite the strength of their love, they were forbidden to be together. He was a nobleman, and she was a slave girl who served his mother. So, for many years they hid their love until the nobleman was married off to a princess whom he did not love, and made to move to her home planet. The slave girl was heartbroken, as was the nobleman, but they promised never to forget one another. And their promises held. So, as a reward, when the two had lived their lives, and passed on from this world, the Force reunited their spirits, and they were wed in the afterlife. The lights you see are their spirits, travelling together for eternity, followed by the celestial spirits, and beings that celebrated along with them. They travel the sky and bless those who see them with a love strong enough to last through life and death and beyond. You explained before releasing a happy sigh,“That’s how my parents always explained it to me. I loved that story.”

Maul took a second to look at you, his eyes holding only admiration.

“That’s beautiful my love. It reminds me of you.”

“Of me?” You asked, cocking your head in curiosity.

“Of course.” He stated, looking back to the ribbons of light before continuing, “The way you love me, it transcends this galaxy. Your love is that strong. That true. And you show me that every day you stay beside me. Even beside that, like the lights, getting to see you, even just once, is enough to leave one wanting for a lifetime. And getting to see you every day? Your light never dims. You could never dim.”

Maul kept his eyes glued to the lights. He may be married to you, and tonight may be your anniversary, but when those words fell from his mouth, he couldn’t look to you. Embarrassment warmed his face. In all the time you had been together, he still had trouble letting his heart spill from his lips. But when you turned his face towards you with a gentle palm on his hand, he knew that his words were more than welcome.

He saw tears in your eyes, but these weren’t tears of sorrow. No. He could feel your overwhelming gratitude and love and admiration for him crashing into him. He knew you could feel his love as well.

“I love you.” You whispered before pulling him in, and kissing him with your whole heart.

“I love you too,” He breathed between kisses, “I have always loved you. The minute I set eyes on you I needed you to be by my side. My heart begged your name when we met, and since then I have never wanted any other word to fall from my lips. You are the light in this universe. You are every star. Every sun. Every planet. You make my dark soul feel beautiful.”

“It’s because you are beautiful my love.” You cooed, tracing his jaw with your finger, and following his tattoos with your eyes, “You’re calming like the ebbing of waves on a shore. When I hear your voice, it’s a soft lullaby. I remember, when we met, it was your voice that caught my attention. It never seemed to match your reputation. I couldn’t get enough of it, and to this day, I still can’t. WHen I hear you say my name, my world stops and everything is perfect.” You huffed a laugh as your eyes flitted from his jaw to his own eyes.

“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to marry you.” Maul whispered to you, although you were alone.

“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to meet you!” You smile at him through a laugh with endearment shining in your eyes.

“You’re the world to me my love. The galaxy.”

“And you’re the galaxy to me.”

Maul kissed you softly before turning his gaze once more to the Northern Lights. He loved you. His wife. His rock. And he would love you through life and beyond. That was a guarantee, and promise he would never, ever break.

Tags!

@justalittlecloud, and @fanficsforheartandsoul !

Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged!

#i really like this one #darth maul x reader #darth maul imagine #darth maul #star wars #i made myself emotional while writing this #i just.....dang I love maul #i hope yall love this too

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theotherdoe · 4 years

Text

But It’s the Quidditch World Cup!

Author’s Note: So I wrote a thing! This is my first time sharing fan fiction anywhere, so I hope who ever reads this story enjoy it!

This little one shot was inspired by that cute little part in Goblet of Fire where Harry, Ron, and Hermione are exploring the wizarding camp at the Quidditch World Cup, and Harry is just amazed at seeing magical people in their natural habitat. I had this little idea in my head that James and Lily would have totally taken Harry to the Quidditch World Cup whenever it was in England if they were alive, and of course Remus and Sirius are there. And as soon as Wolfstar became a part of this story, it kind of got away from me...

You can also find it on my AO3 page (my first AO3 story ever! AHHH!)

“Mama.” A quiet, sweet voice said, as a small warm body pressed into Lily’s side. “Mama, wake up.”

Lily Potter slowly opens her eyes, looking around the tent her small family is sleeping in. The wood burning stove has a few smoldering embers, but is mostly out, causing the family to snuggle close together under the covers of their shared bed for warmth. James, her sweet, goofy, husband, is lightly snoring beside her, hair wild and face smashed into his hands, drool slowly running down his chin. There’s a chill in the air, and it’s mostly quiet outside, besides the occasional cheer from people partying late into the morning, preparing for the Quidditch World Cup. Lily can tell it is still dark out, signaling it is much too early for her four-year-old son to be waking her up for the day.

“What is it, baby?” she mumbles, squeezing Harry tight, burying her face into his wild, black hair.

“It’s time to wake up and watch Quidditch, Mama.”

Lily snorts loudly in response, waking James up.

“Wh-what-what’s wrong?” He mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and slowly sitting up.

“Daddy. It’s time to get up and watch Quidditch.” Harry repeats, wiggling out of Lily’s arms, and sitting in his father’s lap.

James stares at Harry, his hazel eyes wide as Harry stares back, his big green eyes wide with excitement.

“Daddy,” Harry whines, waiting for his father to respond. “It’s Quidditch time!”

James glances at his watch – it reads 4:13 AM. A time that is much too early for Quidditch.

“Harry, bud,” James yawns, ruffling his son’s hair, making it even more wild, “it’s too early. The suns not even up – you know the rule – you can’t wake up mommy and daddy until the sun is up.”

“But it’s the Quidditch World Cup!” he yells, causing Lily to quickly sit up in frustration.

“Harry James Potter.” She says in her most, stern, mom-like voice. “It is a privilege that you are here, and we can take that privilege away. I know you are excited, but we need to rest to enjoy the match later today. Now, cuddle with Daddy and your stuffed Moony and go. To. Sleep.”

Harry’s bottom lip begins to tremble, his eyes full of unshed tears. Lily rarely has to be stern with Harry; he’s a clever, sweet, and well behaved child, that, despite the influence of his father and uncles, listens well and keeps his trouble making to a minimum. Whenever Lily is inclined to use her firm, “mom voice,” that James says is remarkably close to her “Head Girl Voice,” Harry gets a little scared and nervous, sad that he upset his mother.

Seeing Harry’s reaction, James’ heart melts, and he wraps him into his arms, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry Mama. I just love Quidditch.” Harry mumbles, burying his face into James’ chest, his voice quivering.

“I know, baby. But it’s so early – if you don’t sleep now you won’t be able to watch the match.”

“Can I sleep with Padfoot? I’m too excited to sleep, and his cuddles always make me feel better.” Harry explains, giving his parents the biggest doe eyes. He stares his father down, knowing he can never so no to Harry’s big green eyes and toothy smile.

“What about daddy cuddles?” James asks, pretending to be hurt.

“Daddy, you don’t cuddle. You just lay on me. And mama snores.”

“I do no-“ Lily begins, but she stops at James’ look that says ‘if he sleep with Remus and Sirius that means we can sleep in our own bed without a little four year old kicking us and taking up all the bed for a couple hours.’

“Harry, we’ll go sneak into Padfoot and Moony’s tent, but they might say no to Harry cuddles, just be prepared.”

Harry grins triumphantly, knowing his two favorite uncles are wrapped around his finger. There wasn’t anything, or anyone, that they believed was more precious and worth spoiling than Harry Potter.

Lily sighed in defeat as she laid back down, burying her face into her pillow, her dark red hair fanning across the bed, and ruffling her son’s hair lovingly as he leaves their shared bed.

“Please be clothed and at least semi-sober.” James whispered to himself in a prayer as he walks next door into Sirius and Remus’ tent with Harry on his hip, knowing that the couple was out enjoying some of the festivities last night.

While the Potter’s tent was modest, but comfortable, magically extended to include a full kitchen and bathroom, but no separate rooms; set up more like a studio apartment with comfortable, deep scarlet and gold furniture and décor, (‘Really?’ Lily had asked, and James had simply responded, ‘Gryffindor forever,’) Sirius and Remus had splurged on their magical tent.

Throughout the years, Sirius and Remus found that they enjoyed turning full moons into camping trips and retreats for the couple. Once Remus finally began trusting the Wolfsbane potion, and the wizarding world started viewing lycanthropy as an illness, and there was strong movement to change the stigma of werewolves being evil and dark, dangerous creatures, the couple began to frequently take full moons as a chance to get away from their professional lives. It wasn’t always possible for them to run away to Northern Scotland, or the wilderness of Ireland or Wales every month, especially during the school year when Remus had to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, but when they could, it was special for them to take the time, to just be Moony and Padfoot, in the middle of nowhere, running and being free.

But Sirius had made sure that if Remus was going to be recovering from full moons in a tent, it was going to be the most luxurious, comfortable, and special magical tent there was. While it was an open studio, like the Potter’s tent, everything was plush, and spacious, with calming colors, and fluffy textures. The kitchen area was huge, with a large assortment of teas and chocolates. James had never been in the bathroom, but he knew it was also massive, and beautifully tiled, with a massive, magical bath that provided the perfect temperature water, and an endless supply of healing bath salts.

There was a large lounge area with a comfortable looking couch in front of a fire place in the entry way, and in the corner of the space, was a massive, four poster bed with a fluffy mattress, down blankets, and the most pillows James had ever seen in one space.

Sirius and Remus were cuddled close together in the middle of the bed, and James thanked Merlin that he saw the sleeve of a shirt on his arm that was thrown around Remus’ middle. Harry wiggled out of James’ arms, sliding down his legs, and scurrying over to Sirius’ side of the bed.

“Paddy.” Harry whispered, and Sirius slowly opened his eyes in response, registering the presence of his godson in his tent.

Harry opened his green eyes wide, pouting his lower lip out, cuddling his grey stuffed wolf he had named, “Baby Moony,” tight to his chest. He was the picture of pure innocence and adorableness, and Sirius knew he would give him anything he wanted.

“What’s wrong, Prongslet?” Sirius asked, unwrapping himself from Remus and sitting on the edge of the bed. Remus woke with a grumble, slowly sitting up resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, a small, sleepy smile on his face once he saw Harry.

“Baby Moony and I couldn’t sleep. Mama got mad because we woke her up. Can we sleep with you and Uncle Moony, Paddy?” Harry asked, laying it on thick. “Padfoot always makes us feel better. He makes us feel safe.”

James let out a quiet laugh, and watched the scene in front of him unfold. Remus’ usually worn, but tense or tired eyes softened, and Sirius smiled softly at Harry, quickly picking him and plopping him between Remus and himself. James laughed a little louder – his son, four years old, and already a pro manipulator.

“Come wake us up when he becomes too much.” James said as he exited the tent and as Sirius turned into his Animagus form - a big black, shaggy dog, Padfoot.

Harry smiled, cuddling into Padfoot’s side, wrapping his fingers into his long, black fur. His other arm was wrapped protectively around his stuffed Moony, and with a happy sigh, Harry quickly fell asleep.

Remus looked at the pair, Harry and Padfoot, his heart swelling, and a large smile on his face. He snuggled next to Harry, listening to his little snores, and Padfoot’s light, sleepy whimpers, and fell asleep, his heart full.

#hp fanfic #harry potter #jily #wolfstar #james potter #lilly potter #remus lupin #sirius black #james x lily #remus x sirius #omg baby harry #uncle padfoot #uncle moony #everyone lives au #marauders era

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years

Text

A crack in the mask

This is something I wrote for @teacupfulofstarshine, set in her breathtaking au ‘the crossroad of our destinies’. After binging it three times in one week, I got inspired to write a little angst! Unresolved, but I guess you’ll have to read Star’s story to find out how it resolves.

(I hope you like it Starmom, I really super duper love your work and reading it makes me so happy, I know this isn’t a super happy piece but I wanted to give something back and I got so INSPIRED)

...

Virgil hadn’t been raised by benders.

In his tribe, he was alone in that aspect – precious, rare, but also different. He’d had to learn early, to train alone, teach himself how to master his bending. That hadn’t made him exempt from the other lessons the water tribe taught their children.

How to sew. How to fight. How to fish and sail and repair a boat when necessary. And how to be strong.

Since leaving on this big adventure with the Avatar and his friends, Virgil was learning all kinds of new ways to be strong. Patton was strong in standing up for his beliefs without violence, and letting his emotions show. Logan was strong in his loyalty to his brother. Roman was strong in his disloyalty to his father, in choosing where he truly belonged and choosing to fight against what he had known his whole life.

In the water tribe, the way to be strong was to be as impassive as the ice under your feet. Cool, calm, collected, even in the face of fear and danger. It was how the men of the water tribe were supposed to act when conflict struck. Of course, now Virgil knew that that approach wasn’t the best for every situation; that bottling up your feelings could lead to an explosion and make everything worse.

But some habits were hard to shake.

Which was why when Roman shot glares at him from across the campfire, Virgil looked back coolly. Why he kept up his icy façade and turned away and spoke dryly, as if Roman’s avoidance and suspicion were merely an annoyance, rather than a painful twist of the knife. Why he sighed and explained things calmly and walked away from situations instead of escalating them.

Of course, Virgil knew that the cool mask could only last so long. Which was why in the dead of night, with the fire burnt down to coals and the steady snores of his companions rising around him, Virgil rose from his sleeping bag and made his way through the woods, weaving out of the little clearing they’d set up camp in. Remy twitched when he stepped on a twig. Virgil froze and after a moment the bison settled down again. Virgil let out a breath.

There was no moon tonight, the thin crescent slit hidden behind thick swathes of clouds that hung over the world like a grey blanket. They cast the world into a haze of shadow and more often than not Virgil had to feel his way through the trees, following the low gurgle of water from the brook he knew was nearby. He could tell when he reached it, less from seeing and from feeling the ground under his feet change from root-crossed soil to pebble-strewn grass. Virgil dropped to his knees and buried his hands in the water – it was bitingly cold. It made his fingers tingle and spark with pins and needles. It felt almost like home.

Here, in the quiet and the dark, with only the water for company, Virgil let himself cry. His shoulders hunched and despite his efforts to hush them, soft hiccups and sobs rose into the air, muted by the clouds and the trees all around. Misery filled him and spilled down his cheeks in hot trails.

It was only fitting that a water bender express agony with water. The droplets slipping down his face dripped from his chin but never reached the water. By their own decision they collected together and hovered in the air in a swirling, wriggling ball of pain that was not unlike the squirming of Virgil’s stomach.

He didn’t know how long he cried for – not even the moon was out to guide him tonight. But eventually he ran out of tears to cry, or at least ran out of energy to cry them; the collection of salty droplets splashed down into the brook and he pulled in a long, shuddering breath.

So they didn’t think of him as family anymore. So Logan was scared of him and Roman shot him glares and Patton said in his innocent way, “Even if he did try, I’m too fast for him!” So they were only keeping Virgil around so he could get them into the Northern Water Tribe and everyone knew it. So what? It made no difference. Virgil could do his part to help the avatar, and then Thomas and his friends would leave and go save the world or some shit. Virgil didn’t have to be with them. If anything, this was good – he wouldn’t have to hide his water bending anymore. It didn’t hurt that much.

(His heart told him he was lying. Virgil told it to shut up)

Virgil sat up and splashed his face with icy water to cool his flushed cheeks. The cold stung his face. He winced and rubbed his cheeks only to find that water had frozen on it in droplets. Stupid bending, always acting out and being dramatic. He thawed it with a quick gesture and shook his head, letting the droplets fall away.

His hair usually hid his eyes, more so now that Thomas wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he didn’t have to worry about his eyes being puffy the next day. The blotchy face he could hide pretty well. But he would have to disguise his tiredness – if Roman knew that Virgil had been moving around at night he would be furious, maybe even take to not sleeping in order to ‘guard’ the others. And if Roman was tired, he would be off his game, and they would be more vulnerable to being captured, and if the Avatar was captured they were all screwed.

A crunch snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts and he whirled, hands flashing to his knives. The forest before him was dark and deep and full of shadows so thick he couldn’t see past the first few trees. Was there someone there? A scout? A fire nation soldier? Thieves? His breathing increased as the possibilities flashed through his mind, faster and faster. He had to get to the others, he had to protect them and make sure they were safe and-

A turtleduck waddled out into the open.

Virgil sagged in relief. Not dangerous then. He crouched down to watch the toddling creature slip into the brook and begin gliding with the flow of the water, followed by a v formation of clear ripples. Safe. Virgil took a few moments to lower his head and take deep breaths, trying to calm the frantic race of his heartbeat. When it had finally calmed down he rose and started making his way back through the trees.

Was it just him, or was it even quieter on the way back? The tinny chirp of insects had died away as if the creatures had been startled quiet by a bigger, or clumsier, presence. Virgil slipped a knife into his palm as he walked. It was too quiet. The burbling of the brook seemed obtrusively loud in the deafening silence.

A presence behind him.

Virgil whirled and brought his knife to the person’s throat.

The guy froze, and Virgil recognised him with a flash of clarity – he stuffed his knife back into its sheath and hissed, “What the hell, Princey? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.” Roman, having recovered quickly, growled. His hair was mussed up with sleep in a way the fire prince would never allow to see the light of day. “What are you doing?”

“Getting water.” Virgil said sharply, trying to hide the panic running through his mind. To an already paranoid guy, this must look very suspicious. “Is that a crime now?”

“It is when you sneak off in the middle of the night doing who-knows-what.” Roman retorted. Virgil tried to slam down his icy composure but the cold and the crying and the exhaustion wouldn’t be squashed down anymore – his already-red eyes prickled and he folded his arms and looked away to hide the new tears welling up.

“Sure, super scary. ‘Oh no, the big bad bending-stealer is staying hydrated! What else could he be capable of, maintaining basic hygiene?’ Shit, you’re right Princey, this kind of behaviour is unacceptable.”

He felt, more than saw, Roman swelling up with indignation. To be precise, he felt the heat waves radiating off the red-faced prince. Roman wouldn’t actually… burn him, right? The fire bender was hotheaded and currently hated Virgil’s guts, but surely he wouldn’t attack him. Even if he did, Patton and… well, at least Thomas would stand up for Virgil. Maybe? Unless he was angry at Virgil for upsetting his brother…

“How dare you mock me when I’m protecting my family!”

Virgil shook his head. “You know what? I’m out.” He stepped towards camp but Roman caught his wrist in a solid grip. Virgil jerked back with a hiss, unable to hide his flinch when Roman met his eyes. But Roman didn’t look as furious as he did a second ago. He was frowning, but he looked confused. Too late, Virgil realized his swollen red face was on display.

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up!” Virgil yanked him arm away, and Roman didn’t fight it as hard as he could. Of course he didn’t want to touch the big scary bending-stealer for longer than he had to. Virgil wiped his eyes fiercely and glared at the staring prince. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? Let’s find out, shall we?” Virgil’s voice was rising in pitch, but he couldn’t bring it down. He didn’t want to bring it down. He buried his hands in his hair and pulled to feel something other than the boiling soup of misery and rage in his chest. “What’s wrong with me is that apparently I’m the fucking villain of this story! What’s wrong with me is that I’m so dangerous I can’t be trusted with the people whose lives I saved, because I’m so scary.”

Roman clenched his fists, but Virgil was not done. He stabbed a finger at Roman’s face and the fire prince had the nerve to flinch.

“I’m a threat to your new family?” Virgil’s voice dripped with cynicism. “Well, boo fucking hoo. You’re not the only one who lost your parents, Princey. At least you have a brother, and an uncle, and a partner, and friends, and I have-”

Virgil’s voice dissolved into a whisper. He wanted to keep shouting – his chest burned and he could finally yell and rage like he had been aching to for weeks, but… now there was only sorrow. It made him feel heavy. There was a weight on his back and Virgil’s shoulders curled in under its weight.

“Well, I thought I had a family.” He smiled bitterly at Roman. “I guess I don’t count. I wish you’d told me earlier how much everyone despised me. At least then it wouldn’t hurt so much.” Virgil laughed. “And here I thought you guys liked me.”

And now, now Roman looked uncomfortable. “Well, Patton-”

“Doesn’t stand up for me. Sits there and watches. And Thomas. And Logan. They don’t like me. I’m only still around because I’m useful. Because I was stupid enough to think I was wanted. Because stupid Virgil, scary Virgil, thought he was a part of the family, thought he was safe, WHAT AN IDIOT!” He was screaming now. He yanked at his hair so violently that he could hear a ripping sound, but the pain was good, it kept him grounded, kept his voice from dissolving. “JUST STUPID FUCKING VIRGIL!”

“Hey!” Roman was grabbing his wrists. “Stop it, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?”

Too much, too much, he was saying too much. He struggled to slam down a lid on his bubbling emotions. Roman’s fingers dug into his wrists, trying to pry them out of his hair. Broken strands tangled around Virgil’s fingers. Broken, snapped. He could barely feel the pain. Roman finally succeeded in wrenching Virgil’s hands away.

Stupid, stupid. Virgil snatched his hands from Roman’s grip and shoved them into his pockets, pointedly avoiding Roman’s wild gaze. He threw up his impassive wall hastily – though was there really much of a point anymore? Roman started to speak but Virgil cut over him, voice scratchy from screaming.

“I’m going to bed.”

Roman didn’t stop him from stalking back to the campsite and burying himself in his sleeping bag. Virgil couldn’t sleep that night – at times he drifted in and out of a restless doze, only to snap awake with a jolt from half-formed nightmares he couldn’t quite remember. Several times the next morning Roman looked to be on the verge of speaking, only to stop at the last second. Virgil was too tired and done to question him. He just wanted this day to be over so he could go to sleep and forget that this ever happened.

Of course, that was when Ruon-Jian decided to show up with his fleet, and things got a heck of a lot more complicated.

#writing #my writing #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fic #angst #hurt no comfort #tw self deprication #and just to be safe #tw self harm #not really but I don't want to accidentally trigger someone #avatar the last airbender #atla #crossover #teacupfulofstarshine #gift #the crossroad of our destinies

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ineloqueent · 3 years

Note

hi tina 💞 not sure how easy this is, since my astrophysics knowledge is nearing -273 *C, but you could do mutuals as astronomical sights? comets, planets, galaxies etc... sorry if not!! 💖✨

anna! and anon! you’ve given me a wonderful chance to ramble about space. you may come to regret it, however...

if i’ve forgotten you, please do not take it personally! i didn’t mean to. my mind is just but a glorified puddle :)

@archaicmusings — vega

vega is the brightest star in the constellation lyra, and happens to be my favourite star. don’t ask me why vega is my favourite star, or why lyra is my favourite constellation, because i haven’t got a coherent answer for you. i’ve just always been drawn to them. a bit like cal, really. i feel like we’ve known each other for far longer than just four months, and she’s so lovely that i’m fairly sure i could say anything to her and she’d just accept me for whatever rubbish i’m rambling about this time. and, in the depressing year that’s been 2020, cal has been a bright star.

@drivenbybri — halley’s comet

honestly, is there anything more iconic than halley’s comet? there can’t be much. probably the best known comet of all time, halley’s comet is a short-period comet (and if you’ve read starstruck, you know how much i prefer short-period comets to those long-period comets with their damned 200-year perihelions, even if certain people suggest that this makes them quite special), meaning that it is visible from earth every 75-ish years. halley’s comet last made an appearance in the lovely year of 1986, and will thus appear next in 2061 (i’m so excited for my 59-year-old self!!!). halley’s comet, though well-known, is still a rare breed, so to speak. it is rare, and extraordinarily beautiful that a comet appears to a human twice within their lifetime. sofie is rare, just like halley’s comet, and equally beautiful, both in heart and with that lovely curly hair of hers. i’m honoured to know her, just as i shall be honoured to see halley’s comet one day.

@brianmays-hair — cassiopeia a

cassiopeia a (or rather, the remnant of cassiopeia a) was a supernova within the constellation of cassiopeia. for those of you who do not obsess over interstellar matter the way that i do, supernovae are explosions of massive stars, or white dwarfs drawn to nuclear fusion, within their final stages of life. not much is known about how these explosions necessarily take place, and nasa has only caught on video one such explosion, back in 2016. the most commonly presented image of the remnant of cassiopeia a is a false-colour image, composed with three different wavebands of light. it is, as you can see, very beautiful. supernovae radiate energy and light throughout the cosmos during their existence, and thus having a great effect on the space surrounding them. i therefore liken jess to cassiopeia a because she has a brilliant personality, vibrant and inspiring, which comes across especially in her writing. but of course, the beauty of cassiopeia a has nothing on her.

@deacyblues — sirius

as far as we humans and the scientists among us know, sirius is the brightest star in the observable universe. housed within the constellation of canis major, sirius has always been monumentally important in terms of navigation, since ancient times. i tell pearl this all the time, but truly, i mean it; her outlook on life is inspiring, how she never fails to be positive even in times of great trouble. like sirius, pearl is a light, ever-present within the mindset of living for today, ever-determined, and unfailingly kind.

@joemazzmatazz — black hole

please let me explain before this gets taken the wrong way: I LOVE BLACK HOLES. i specifically want to study black holes, whenever i get the chance to specialise within astrophysics. they fascinate me to no end, with a kind of allure that only the mysterious can hold. furthermore, black holes may be the key to understanding the universe; if we understand black holes, we will be able to make headway on other matter, such as dark matter, and dark energy, the latter of which makes up the majority of the observable universe, and will lead us to astronomical (if you’ll pardon the ill-worded expression, and the unintentional pun) conclusions concerning both the beginning of our universe, and the eventual end. regan, just like a black hole, is a wealth of information, especially concerning the knowledge she harbours about disney, and the business management sector of it. it’s quite truly inspirational.

@im-an-adult-ish — the milky way

ah yes, the milky way. home to all of us. and that is the essence of my explanation here. meredith has such a friendly way about her, and she’s the kind of person you can easily turn to and feel welcomed. a bit like our little corner of the universe <3

@almightygwil — the sun

i think this is probably self-explanatory, if a bit repetitive, but ellie is a ray of sunshine. but perhaps that sells her a little short, because ellie is just so genuinely lovely that she must herself be the sun. her writing talent astounds me (you could say it blinds me, ha ha), and she never fails to be somehow both sweet and very chaotic at the same time. it’s very admirable (and certainly relatable, on the chaotic front). the sun itself, if we think about the surface and the fusion that takes place there, is both the sweetest sight ever seen, and quite chaotic, so i think it fitting that ellie is the sun.

@hijackmy-heart — callisto

callisto is one of jupiter’s moons, and my favourite, because it looks like a piece of the night sky decided to curl up into a ball. i don’t know nat too well, but i know that she’s gorgeous, like callisto, and loves roger taylor. let me explain. jupiter, in roman mythology, is the god of the sky and of thunder. in norse mythology, thor is the equivalent of jupiter, and to me, roger has always had a bit of that typical scandinavian look going, with the blonde hair and blue eyes (not to say that all scandis look like this, but he fits the stereotype :)). nat loves roger, and callisto orbits jupiter, so there you have it.

@six-bloodyminutes — the moon

the moon has a serenity about it, and mo has a knack for telling quite wild things with a most casual air. for instance, according to my sources, when a certain dorm room caught fire (?). mo thus bears this serenity, akin to the serenity i associate with the moon, with equal grace and chaos.

@dancingdiscofloof — pluto

pluto! the not-planet-oh-wait-maybe-it’s-a-planet-jk-jk-unless..? i still think that pluto should be considered a planet, despite the many arguments against the poor sod. pluto was once a planet, and should therefore have remained a planet, for the plain and simple fact that taking away its planethood was like giving a person a present, and then taking it back immediately afterward. anyway. i’m rambling. i also do not know rove very well, but i know that she’s kind, and, judging by the memes she shares, both of ryan gosling and tom hanks, that she is quirky— a bit like our beloved pluto.

@imcompletelylost — aurora borealis/aurora australis

also known as the northern lights/the southern lights, the polar lights, the merry dancers, the fox fires, or swarms of luminous herring (you can thank my ancestors, followers of norse mythology, for that one), the aurora is an astronomical phenomenon precipitated by the complete ring of light surrounding the poles, “which at its brightest has a distinctively green tint” (may, brian, et al. the cosmic tourist. carlton books, 2016.). yes i just made a citation from one of brian’s books. don’t worry about it. anyway, particles emitted from our sun are caught by the magnetic fields of earth’s poles, and thus produce this ethereal effect. but you know what the aurora has always reminded me of? disco lights. and libby is noting if not the queen of disco. oh, and, libby’s makeup talents? the aurora could never.

@aprilaady — butterfly nebula

the butterfly nebula is incredibly beautiful. but also, depending on from which angle it is beheld, it looks quite different. dor will surprise you, in the loveliest way possible (and sometimes the funniest) with a kind word or a joke, or even just a relatable comment. she has so many talents, being rivetingly smart within so many fields, especially the sciences, and in this, conveys multitudes, like the butterfly nebula. one might say her soul is painted like the wings of butterflies...

@doing-albri — solar eclipse

the alignment of the sun, moon, and earth. difficult to see, especially in totality, if you continually live in the same place. but there’s something magical in that alignment, i think. something quite poetic. it’s partially in the name ‘eclipse’ and partially in the nickname— a “ring of fire.” i saw the solar eclipse in august of 2018, and looking up at it, i was quite awestruck. you’re not supposed to stare directly at solar eclipses, because despite the moon overshadowing the sun, you can still damage your eyes significantly by looking at them. vi is so bright, both in her attitude and in her intelligence, and thus i’ve chosen the solar eclipse for her. also, when a solar eclipse occurs, using a piece of cardboard with a hole (or generally any thick-radius circular object with an opening), you can recreate the phenomenon on another surface, resulting in beautiful patterns and light-art, which i think speaks to vi’s eye for aesthetics.

@imalososos — meteor shower

meteor showers are perhaps some of the most beautiful phenomena i have ever seen. back in the summer of 2016, i stayed up all night to watch the perseids rush across the sky, and i was not disappointed, by any means. within the early hours of the 12th of august, an estimated 80 meteors darted across the heavens each hour. meteors, in essence, are clusters of mineral, usually debris from comets, which enter the atmosphere of a planet, and thus seem to shoot across the sky. now, you may be wondering, what’s the bloody blooming difference between meteoroids, meteors, and meteorites, and why are we talking about meteors in particular? well, meteoroids are cosmic debris that have not yet entered an atmosphere; as soon as a piece of cosmic debris enters a planet’s atmosphere, it is classified as a meteor. as for meteorites, nothing is a meteorite unless it strikes the ground. anyway. you didn’t come here for my science ramblings. meteors are also called ‘shooting stars,’ and let’s be honest, they’re space’s idea of art. streaks of light across the sky? sounds like a painting to me, and darya, among many other things, is an artist— and a brilliant one, at that. so i think it very fitting to describe her as the art of the universe <3

@mazzell-ro — saturn

i! love! saturn!!! being the only planet in our solar system with highly visible rings, it just stands out to me. it’s absolutely gorgeous, and an object of much inspiration to me, when i was little and decided that space was absolutely something i wanted to see. i could write an eight-verse song about saturn, i love it so much, and honestly, i think ro could write one too; she’s an excellent musician. but aside from its lovely rings, saturn is unique because its composition, in the ratio of its gases, would allow the planet to float in water. ro is uniquely wonderful, and her writing!!!!!!!! makes me so soft and happy and makes me want to give her the word. quite how i feel when i look up at saturn.

@mistiermistshazierdays — zodiacal light

you may recognise this term as brian’s speciality from when he was studying astrophysics. but what is it? zodiacal light is that strange triangle of light that appears glowing in the sky after twilight and before dawn, and is the subject of much earth-based astrophotography. extraordinarily beautiful, scientists are still not entirely sure what the phenomenon is, but most research and practical experiments are in favour of zodiacal light being sunlight reflected off of cosmic dust (also known as stardust!). now, if my knowledge of ancient greece and its mythology serves me, the name phoebe comes from phoebus, and (thank you google) means ‘bright.’ zodical light… bright… phoebe… you might say it’s a match made in the heavens. quite literally if we’re talking space. phoebe, you kind soul, you are stardust.

@speciallyred — andromeda galaxy

and last, but certainly not least, dear anna. i name thee the andromeda galaxy, partially for your own name, and partially for its poetic beauty. andromeda, the neighbour galaxy of our deal ol’ milky way, is actually about 2.5 million lightyears (15 trillion miles, 22.5 trillion km) away from us, here on earth. call me vain for the number of times i’ve described the beauty of space throughout this rather extended exposition, but andromeda is startlingly beautiful. one reason for this objective beauty is that andromeda is estimated to be home to roughly double the number of stars within our own galaxy. anna is one of the most talented poets i have ever come across, hands down, and what be the food of poetry, if not the stars?

#happy christmas to those who celebrate it!!!#mutuals tag #space

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dansnaturepictures · 3 years

Photo

08/06/21-Garden birds at home and more and Lakeside

I was thinking last night that it didn’t feel like I’d taken many photos of the garden birds lately. I had less than a week prior but with me taking so many pictures daily currently including lots of the young birds at Lakeside in the week things that were quite recent can very easily seem a long time ago which shows I am having fun with time flying I believe. So it was fitting and maybe always obvious that today became a very memorable one for seeing and photographing birds in the garden or beyond the garden out the back whilst working. I took the first picture in this photoset of a Collared Dove on the roof opposite visible from my room. I also saw and photographed Woodpigeon and the possible young Feral Pigeon in the garden again as the day went on. And alongside House Sparrows picking at vegetation again and Starlings in great numbers, as well as Jackdaw out the back on the roof I very much enjoyed seeing my favourite garden bird the Goldfinch. And with the window opened as I worked at one point I loved hearing a Goldfinch belt out its strong, fluent and attractive call which was great to hear. When I was younger and I still have them at my Dad’s house where I grew up I had small RSPB cuddly toy figure of birds I did like my cuddly toys as a youngster that if you squeeze it, it makes the bird’s call. I had three, two of my favourite birds the Puffin and Osprey and famously within our family before my voice dropped the bird I screamed when I first saw along the road in 2007 the Goldfinch. So at a time I was still very much learning bird song it took us a while to learn it after getting into birdwatching to be honest I knew this one. But I don’t think I’ve often really took notice of a Goldfinch calling in real life so it felt great to hear this so purely. As I have done this year before it was interesting to see Woodpigeons menacingly approaching another on the roofs and making it fly off and Collared Doves would do it tonight too.

I took the second and third pictures in this photoset of a lovely dog rose on the bush in the front garden which was lovely to see I saw my first one of the year on Thursday at Lakeside and saw roses on the bush yesterday I took a photo and tweeted it on Dans_Pictures of one this lunch time too so it was great to have the dog rose come on in the property now and the third photo is of daisies that had been around in the front garden as well which I’ve found quite notable in this little patch of quite well built garden and then I was thrilled tonight to notice some speedwell with it. A flower I’m used to seeing in the wild this family one of the big revelations of my year or so of really learning flowers now so this felt like a great and key garden moment this year. I walked through the estate a bit more before approaching Lakeside from the tarmac path north of it today. And right next to the roofs of the garages where I see them a lot I noticed a lovely group of House Sparrows. With angelic sunshine hitting their bright brown backs it made a great unique angle for photos and I took the fourth picture in this photoset as well as one I tweeted on Dans_Pictures of them. Photos I quite liked taking. There were so many sparrows around today bolstered by the youngsters probably and I saw a couple that appeared to be fighting sort of flying at each other and battling in the air going down near to a drain pipe. Interesting behaviour to witness.

Walking down towards Lakeisde I loved coming across another patch of flowers in the urban area to the usual one I go to which I found with a few great species on Saturday night finding this lovely patch that evening too. Seeing cornflower and vetch there looking very colourful and bright I did love on Friday, but today I was thrilled to spot poppies of three colours traditional red, pink and red and white with the other flowers around nicely too and the poppies all looked enormous which was lovely to see. Here I loved spotting an electric looking Blue-tailed Damselfly which I enjoyed for a great few minutes on another very sunny and warm day I am having a great spring for them and I got the fifth picture in this photoset of one. I tweeted pictures of the poppies on Dans_Pictures tonight.

Then it was into Lakeside to walk along the northern path, with a meeting at 2 not the most time spent at Lakeside on lunch as I lounged a bit before walking in my lunch hour. I took the sixth picture in this photoset going into Lakeisde a beautiful view with greenery and the sky. Then I tested myself to see if I could find the quite hidden bee orchid which I marveled at and did so much for me yesterday one of my most anticipated moments of the spring and greatest moments this year. And as I studied the long grassed fringes of this rich northern path I did after seeing the white flowers possible snowball flowers spot the glorious bee orchid. With my macro lens on in a two lens operation with the big lens this lunch time the sun went in just a little as I spotted this bee orchid again. I had anticipated I may hopefully see more bee orchids this year based on my experiences with them last year but I hadn’t really decided if I would take another picture of this one if I got the chance I was happy with the one of it yesterday. But with the sun slightly in it then created different light conditions to yesterday. So I went for it going for a different angle taking from the side rather than kneeling down on one knee to take it from the front as I did yesterday as well to yesterday and it meant after I had 10 exclusive pictures to Twitter in my Tumblr post and tweeted the bee orchid picture yesterday but today taking 31 photos so not having any exclusive ones it gave me a chance to put a bee orchid photo in a Tumblr photoset the seventh in this photoset. I enjoyed taking the eighth picture in this photoset going along the northern path of a really nice view and I liked hearing young birds chirping along the way which was nice.

I took the final two pictures in this photoset at home tonight of a beautiful view out the back in a balmy evening with the grass and vegetation looking really nice. I did notice this and took a photo earlier but I felt it looked even more beautiful in the slightly more shadowy landscape of the early evening. The last photo is of a lovely sky scene out the back tonight. Out the front Blue Tit, Goldfinch and House Sparrow all kept me interested in the balcony feeders. whilst watching now BAFTA award winning Springwatch which I had been looking forward to congratulations to them on that award as I tweeted on Sunday its been so well deserved for so long for their consistent high quality broadcasts in all the watches from remote locations and hugely brilliant and inspiring content filmed, narrated and researched so well and at other parts of the evening. Also a very beautiful, big, bold and bright brown moth the Waved Umber flew in which looked stunning to watch and is camped at the top of our living room wall as I write this. I had just wondered in this warm weather when my moth season would kick start other than day flying ones which I’d seen this year already and it certainly has now. I hope you all had a nice day.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: Tufted Duck, Lesser Black-backed Gull out the front nicely flying and on the green, Black-headed Gull well today, Blackbird well, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Feral Pigeon, Jackdaw, Starling, House Sparrow, Goldfinch, Blue Tit, Blue-tailed Damselfly, Waved Umber moth, spider and other insects in the house.

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