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thewulf · 10 days

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Frosted Steel || Cassian

Summary: Request -Can i request a Cassian x Reader?? Here's what I'm thinking-Reader is from winter court. She's gifted with unique ice-binding magic from her home and arrives in Velaris to help Rhysand finalize a critical peace treaty?... Read Rest Here

A/N: Well... this one got away from me hahaha but I had a blast writing it. Def in the zone writing these ACOTAR fics so please keep sending them my way!

Pairing: Cassian x Female Reader (Winter Court Reader)

Word Count: 9.8k + (WHOOPS)

TW: swords, reader gets cut, blood, general ACOTAR warnings

In the silent, shimmering halls of the Winter Court you stood before Kallias, your father and the formidable High Lord. His piercing blue eyes reflect both concern and determination as he addresses you. The throne room was usually a place of austere beauty but felt colder today. The frost patterns on the walls mirroring the tension in the air.

"Velaris is not just another city, and this is not merely a diplomatic visit my daughter," Kallias begins. His voice resonant and commanding. "Rhysand needs our support to finalize a peace treaty that could stabilize relations of the Winter Court for generations. I need someone who can represent our interests with both power and delicacy. Someone like you."

You shift slightly with your boots whispering against the icy floor. "But father, my magic is suited for creation not conflict. Surely there are others better suited to navigate the intricacies of a peace treaty?" You tried your best to convince him, but it was sure to fall of deaf ears. When he had a plan there was no talking him out of it.

Kallias rises. His height and presence filling the room with an almost tangible force. "No one else possesses your unique abilities or your perspective," he insists. "You understand the fragile nature of peace. This treaty needs more than just political acumen… it needs the trust and bond that only your magic can foster." You knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to flatter you. You lowered your gaze knowing there was no talking him out of this. You felt the weight of his expectations pressing into you. It is an honor yes, but a daunting one, nonetheless. The responsibility feels as heavy as the ice that clings to the peaks of your homeland.

Seeing your hesitation Kallias softens before stepping down from the dais to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I would not ask this of you if I did not believe in your ability to carry our hopes," he says. His tone infused with a rare warmth. "You have always risen to the challenges presented to you, greater though they may seem."

Drawing a deep breath you nod, accepting the mantle he's offering. "I will go to Velaris. I will help broker this peace." You spoke even though you truly did not want to go.

Kallias smiles with pride evident in his eyes. "Rhysand has arranged for an escort to meet you at the city gates. They will ensure your safety and aid in your acclimation to the Night Court's ways. Spend some time there. Get to know them. It will only aid in our recovery efforts after the war.” As you turn to leave your heart steadies itself. The path ahead is uncertain and is filled with potential alliances and hidden perils. But as the frost air fills your lungs you feel your resolve harden. You will meet this challenge as you have met all others with the cool grace and quiet strength of winter itself.

He didn’t give you long to get ready to leave. Within a day you were already finding yourself at the outskirts of Velaris, the once hidden city of the Night Court. As you step through the threshold into the city your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the vivid contrasts. Unlike the icy, silent elegance of your homeland, Velaris pulses with life. Its streets bustling with faeries of every conceivable form and hue. The air here carries the warmth of starlight even into the night. It was a stark contrast to the crisp, cold air of the Winter Court. Your unique ice-binding magic was a rare gift in your cold dominion, and it stirred within you responding to the latent energies of this foreign land.

Your arrival isn't just a mere visit as your father had informed you. It's a mission charged with the weight of potential peace or conflict. Directed by your father you are here to assist Rhysand, the famed High Lord of the Night Court and one you were incredibly intimidated by, in finalizing the critical peace treaty. The responsibility weighs heavily on your shoulders as the outcome could define the future relationships between your frigid realm and the temperate lands of the Night Court.

As you glide through the throngs of fae your eyes marvel at the architectural wonders of Velaris. The buildings around you display intricate designs that emit an ethereal glow, seeming both ancient and vibrantly alive. Despite the surrounding beauty you remain vigilant, your magic at the ready. Your heart beats a complex rhythm of excitement and caution as you near the meeting point. In Velaris, amidst allies and strangers, you must navigate the intricacies of court politics. Utilizing your magical talents for diplomacy and perhaps learn to defend yourself in more ways than one.

However, a different sensation stirs within you—a blend of nervousness and unease—as you anticipate your first encounter with Rhysand and Feyre. Both are Daemati, a kind of power that deeply unsettles you. This fear stems from a harrowing past encounter with a Daemati under Amarantha's command who had mercilessly killed twelve children of the Winter Court. One of these children was your Ivy. She was a young fae you were mentoring. Ivy, like yourself, possessed potent abilities but her promise was brutally cut short. She was a loss that still haunts you to this day.

Now as you approach the House of Wind with your escort a mix of fear and determination tingles through your nerves. You replay the pain of your past and the loss that continuously gnaws at your spirit. Yet, you steady yourself with the knowledge that your father has prepared you well to shield your thoughts. He had trained you relentlessly once he returned from under the mountain. At the time it frustrated you but now, in this moment, you are profoundly grateful for his persistence.

Rhysand and Feyre greet you at the grand entrance. Their presence was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Rhysand's dark hair and piercing gaze are balanced by a surprisingly warm smile. While Feyre's poise and grace exude a calm strength. Though their reputations are fair and just leaders precede them you can't shake the lingering trepidation of their unique abilities.

"Welcome to Velaris," Rhysand says. His voice both smooth and inviting. "We are honored to assist the Winter Court in these crucial talks."

You manage a polite nod making sure to keep your mental shields tightly woven, an invisible armor against any potential intrusion. Rhysand’s eyes seem to glimmer with a hint of understanding, but he makes no move to address the unspoken tension.

Feyre then steps forward with a gentle smile. Her empathy palpable even without words. "We hope you find comfort here during your stay. If there's anything you need at all, please let us know."

As they lead you through the corridors of their home filled with the light of glowing crystals and the scent of night-blooming flowers you remind yourself of the mission at hand. You are here to negotiate peace. To secure a future for your court. Despite the warmth of their welcome, you remain vigilant, prepared to protect your thoughts and heart from the painful memories of the past and the daunting power of the present.

After showing you to your room, a beautiful space with a view of Velaris that twinkles like a starlit sky, Feyre gently suggests that you join them for dinner. As you follow her down to the dining area your nervousness manifests subtly. Your leg shakes rhythmically, a silent tick showing the unease churning inside you. The room is beautifully set with candles flickering softly. They cast a warm light over the array of dishes that smell of spices and something sweetly floral.

You take your seat making sure to deliberately avoid the gazes of Rhysand and Feyre who try to make the atmosphere as welcoming as possible. Your leg continues to shake under the table and despite their friendly demeanor you find yourself unable to meet their eyes. You choose instead to focus on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth. You felt terribly out of your element. Why had your father sent you here? You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, how were you going to negotiate peace with them?

Noticing your discomfort Rhysand addresses the elephant in the room with a gentle directness. "It must be quite unsettling being far from home and surrounded by strangers. Especially strangers who possess abilities that might seem... invasive. We both understand the significance of mental privacy and consent," he begins. His tone imbued with empathy. His acknowledgment of his and Feyre's Daemati powers catches your attention prompting you to glance up briefly.

"We're committed to using our powers to protect and heal, never to harm or coerce," Rhysand continues hoping to ease your worry. "It's a rule we hold sacred in Velaris. A promise to each other and to those we welcome into our home."

As Rhysand speaks there is a sincerity radiating with each word. You find the courage to lift your eyes and meet his gaze for the first time this evening. Something in his expression, a deep-seated earnestness, cuts through the fog of your apprehension. You nod slowly acknowledging his pledge and the safety it promises.

"Thank you," you speak quietly. "I've heard much about both of you and your abilities. Forgive me for being so… cold." The smirk that follows is light and tinged with the irony of your homeland's icy reputation.

Your gaze shifts between Rhysand and Feyre. Their attentive postures encouraging you to continue. "The reason for my caution," you explain, "stems from a… an awful experience. One of the children taken by Amarantha's enforcer was under my protection. Her name was Ivy. I was supposed to shield her. Protect her. To nurture her abilities. But I could only watch helpless as her mind was torn apart. Piece by piece. It was... traumatizing to say the least. The fear of that power. The fear of it being used again so mercilessly has stayed with me." You let out the breath you were holding feeling a weight being slowly lifted off your shoulders in your admission.

Taking a deep breath, you fight through the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "Ivy was more than just a pupil to me. She was like a daughter," you begin. Your voice trembling as the words spill out. “Young and brilliant. Her very presence could brighten the darkest winter nights. She had a rare gift for ice magic. The kind that comes once in a generation. Ivy could weave frost into intricate sculptures of breathtaking beauty. She could coax snowflakes into patterns that told stories. Her magic wasn’t just powerful, it was art. Art in the purest and most captivating form."

Your voice cracks as the memory surges forward, raw, and as sharp as the day it happened. "When the enforcer came, I tried to shield her. I stood between them. I begged him to take me instead. But he just laughed..." Your hands clench into fists at the memory with you nails digging into your palms as if to anchor you against the pain. "And then he turned his attention to her. Ivy was just a girl. A beautiful little girl brimming with potential, and I had to watch from a distance… utterly powerless, as he ripped it all away. Her screams... the look of sheer terror in her eyes... it's etched into my memory. A nightmare that never fades."

Pausing, you swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears as they threaten to breach your composure. "I couldn't save her. The guilt of that moment, the utter helplessness. It’s haunted me ever since." You wipe away a tear that manages to escape, your voice a whisper now. "That’s why I’m so wary around Daemati. That’s why your powers… even though I know you use them for good, initially stirred such deep fear in me. The memory of what was done with similar abilities. It terrifies me still."

As you finish the room is enveloped in a heavy silence. Rhysand and Feyre absorbing the depth of your pain. Each of their faces etched with compassion and sorrow for your loss. Feyre's reaction is immediate and visceral. Her eyes fill with tears, and they silently overflow as she listens to the end of your harrowing experience. Moved deeply by your pain and the horrific loss of Ivy, she can barely contain her distress, reflecting her profound empathy.

"I'm so sorry," Feyre whispers. Her voice quivering as she reaches across the table, seeking to provide comfort even as she struggles with her own reaction. "That you had to go through that, to witness such horror... it's just unthinkable. I can't express how deeply sorry I am for your loss and your pain."

Rhysand's expression is one of solemn resolve as he observes both you and Feyre. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder offering her a silent strength before turning his attention to you with a serious yet compassionate gaze. "What happened to Ivy, the terror she endured—such things are what we fight against every day," he says firmly. "Under my watch we hold ourselves to a promise: that we use our power to protect, to heal, not to harm. What you experienced will not happen here. You have my word." He nods his head in reverence.

The sincerity in Rhysand's voice and his protective assurance coupled with Feyre's empathetic tears create a poignant moment of understanding and solidarity. It offers a small yet significant reassurance that in Velaris you might find not only safety but also allies who genuinely care about your well-being.

As dinner progresses the conversation gradually shifts towards lighter topics. Focusing on the details of the peace treaty. The atmosphere has eased significantly with Rhysand and Feyre both engaging in thoughtful dialogue about the future plans and the roles each court might play in fostering peace. You find yourself becoming more invested in the conversation feeling a bit more at ease with each passing moment.

Just as you're beginning to relax fully the door bursts open and two figures storm in, deep in a heated debate. Their voices are raised, each trying to overpower the other with their arguments.

“You think charging in without a plan is the answer, Cassian? That’s reckless, even for you,” the darker-haired one asserts, his expression intense and clearly frustrated.

“And you think waiting around is going to solve our problems, Az? We can’t just leave it unresolved!” the larger man retorts with his broad frame gesturing emphatically.

Rhysand sighs, setting down his utensils before looking between his two friends. “Alright, what’s this about?” he asks, ready to mediate with a practiced ease.

As Cassian and Azriel's loud entrance interrupted the dinner your eyes immediately locked with Cassian's. Despite the intensity of their ongoing argument something about his direct gaze halted all other thoughts. It was as if a gust of wind had swept through the room, leaving you momentarily breathless. Amidst the unexpected disruption the corner of your mouth quirked up in amusement. Such candid, boisterous dynamics were a rare sight back in the Winter Court and the sheer openness of it all struck you as refreshingly odd. Even as the argument continued your focus remained riveted on Cassian. You found it impossible to break away from his gaze, his eyes holding a mixture of passion and warmth that was intensely captivating.

Catching your amused smile, Cassian halts mid-sentence. A playful glint appearing in his eyes. “And who do we have here?” he asks. His tone shifting to one of curiosity mixed with a hint of charm. “A spy from the Winter Court come to watch us squabble like market hagglers?”

Azriel rolls his eyes at Cassian’s dramatics. “Ignore him. Cassian thinks every new face is part of a grand intrigue.”

Rhysand chuckles and intervenes before Cassian can respond. “No spies here, just Kallias’s daughter from the Winter Court. She’s here to assist with the peace treaty negotiations. Remember?” Rhysand explains gesturing toward you with a warm smile. “And apparently to witness the Night Court's General and Spymaster in their, let’s say, natural habitat.”

Cassian’s face lights up with a broad grin as he extends a hand in greeting. His earlier fervor now redirected into welcoming you. “Well then, welcome to Velaris! I’m Cassian, the General. And the brooding shadow over there is Azriel, our Spymaster. Seems you’ve got a front-row seat to our tactical disputes.”

Azriel gives you a nod, his earlier annoyance fading into a reserved smile. "It’s good to meet you. Please don’t mind us. We argue, but it’s all in the spirit of making the best decisions for our people."

Your initial amusement grows into a genuine smile, touched by the warmth and candidness of their welcome, even amidst their lively disputes. This evening has certainly turned out to be full of surprises. Painting a vivid picture of the Night Court as a place of vibrant personalities and fierce loyalty.

As the energy from their spirited discussions simmers down and the laughter echoes into a comfortable lull you take the opportunity to express your amusement at their robust debate. Greeting Cassian and Azriel warmly you share how refreshing you find the candid nature of the Night Court. It's a stark contrast to the more reserved and formal interactions typical of the Winter Court, sparking your curiosity about the dynamics of this lively group.

"Well, it's certainly different here," you comment with a light laugh. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of this... enthusiasm during my stay. I'll be here for a month or so. I hope to learn as much as I can."

Rhysand, seizing on your mention of an extended stay, exchanges a quick glance with Cassian. He gave him a sly smile as he senses his brothers attention shifting toward you almost immediately. "A month or so gives us plenty of time," he says thoughtfully. "If you're interested in learning more than just politics perhaps you'd like to join some of our training sessions? Cassian here leads our warriors and I'm sure he could arrange something that accommodates your skills and interests."

Cassian’s eyes light up at the suggestion. He was always eager to bring someone new into the fold of his training regimens. Especially someone as unique as you seemed to be. "Absolutely," he agrees with an enthusiastic nod. "It’s not all sword swinging and strength training. We focus on strategy, agility, and even some elemental control that might align nicely with your ice magic. It could be a good way to blend some of the Winter Court techniques with ours."

As Rhysand suggests joining the training sessions you hesitate, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. "I appreciate the offer but I'm not really a fighter," you admit slightly apologetic in your nature. "My strengths lie more in diplomacy and magic, particularly ice magic. I'm not sure how well I'd fit into a warrior's training regimen."

Rhysand, observing the interplay at the table, seems particularly keen on your participation. His insight as a leader might allow him to sense the undercurrent of interest from Cassian toward you. Something potentially deeper than it appears. He pushes gently but with a knowing smile, "It’s not just about fighting. It’s about understanding different perspectives and disciplines. It could be a valuable experience."

Cassian although typically straightforward and jovially aggressive, adopts a slightly softer demeanor. His usual bravado tempered by earnestness. "Training can also be about balance and harmony. About integrating the physical with the magical. Your skills could bring a fresh perspective, not just to our tactics but to our understanding of magic and combat."

Then Azriel, who normally stays quiet in such discussions adds his own encouragement. His subdued voice carrying weight. "It’s worth exploring. Sometimes stepping into unfamiliar territory reveals more about our strengths. It could be enlightening for all of us."

Cassian's expression briefly reveals his surprise at Azriel’s interjection. It was a small, almost imperceptible lift of his eyebrows signaling to you that Azriel's encouragement is out of the ordinary. This small gesture subtly hints at the importance of the moment.

Feyre as if sensing the nuanced shifts in the conversation supports their suggestions with a warm and inclusive gesture. "It’s also a way to connect with everyone here. Our training sessions are as much about building relationships as they are about building skills. It would be wonderful to have you join, even just a few times to see how it feels."

Encouraged by their collective support and Cassian's surprised yet approving glance following Azriel's seemingly rare endorsement you find yourself reconsidering their proposal more seriously. "Alright. I'll give it a try," you agree, a tentative excitement building within you. "This will be very… interesting."

"Excellent," Cassian says. His eyes brightening with enthusiasm. "We’ll start at a pace that feels right for you. It’s about growth and learning, not just exertion."

As the dinner concludes and plans for your training begin to take shape you can't help but feel an intriguing pull towards what lies ahead. The possibility of new friendships and perhaps deeper bonds begins to form, hinting at the start of an enriching journey within the Night Court.

On your first day at the training grounds, the crisp morning air of Velaris is invigorating, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and distant calls from sparring partners. Cassian leads you to a quieter section reserved for one-on-one sessions away from the more vigorous activities of his usual warriors. The atmosphere is slightly tense. The space between you filled with cautious curiosity. Each of you is clearly gauging the other trying to find a comfortable rhythm in this new training partnership.

"Let’s see what you’ve got," Cassian suggests. His tone friendly but carrying a hint of challenge. He watches intently as you demonstrate some basic maneuvers with your ice magic. You created delicate yet sharp frost patterns that float gracefully in the air. His nods of approval are sparing, and you can tell he’s mentally noting each display of skill though he keeps his feedback measured and professional.

As the days progress the initial stiffness that marked your interactions begins to melt away. Cassian’s coaching style is intense. His commands are sharp, his expectations high. However, as you meet his challenges with increasing confidence you begin to understand the method behind his rigor. You also start to catch glimpses of humor in his sharp eyes. A sign that there’s more to this formidable warrior than just discipline and strength.

"Try not to freeze my soldiers. We’re running out of good men as it is," he jokes one morning after you skillfully direct a swirl of ice around a training dummy skillfully stopping just short of a group of soldiers watching nearby.

With a small laugh you shoot back, "I thought the Night Court could handle a little cold."

His laughter in response is hearty. A sound that seems to echo around the quiet corner of the training grounds. It's a turning point, signaling a shift from mutual respect to something warmer, more friendly.

By the end of the week your training sessions are characterized by easy banter and playful challenges. One afternoon Cassian dodges your icy projectiles with nimble grace only to slip slightly on a patch of ice you cunningly left in his path. "Not bad for a scrawny little thing," he grins while steadying himself with the agility of a cat.

In response you flash a mischievous smile and with a subtle flick of your wrist, you freeze his boots to the ground. "And not bad for a brawny brute," you retort. Laughter bursts from a few nearby trainees who have started to look forward to these exchanges between the two of you.

Cassian manages to break free before brushing ice from his boots with mock indignation. "You’re going to pay for that one," he warns though his eyes sparkle with amusement.

As the week draws to a close the training ground has transformed from a place of cautious appraisal to one of growth and friendship. Your sessions with Cassian are no longer just about learning to integrate your ice magic with physical combat. They’re also about the laughter shared over slipped footing, the shared grins after successful maneuvers, and the light-hearted jests that now flow freely between you. This evolving camaraderie promises not just improved skills but a deepening bond, hinting at the development of a relationship built on respect, challenge, and mutual delight in each other's company.

The atmosphere at the training grounds is usually charged with the sounds of diligent practice but today there’s an added layer of excitement due to some young onlookers from the Night Court. Cassian plans a session that balances demonstrations of your unique ice magic with some basic combat techniques hoping to impress not just you but the eager young fae watching from a distance.

Wearing your elegant Winter Court attire, which was more suited for display than combat, you find yourself not in your usual training leathers. Today was supposed to be about finesse and control not full-contact sparring. As Cassian readies the next exercise you catch the eyes of the children peeking out from behind the trees. Their expressions were filled with awe and curiosity. Smiling back at them your attention momentarily drifts from the task at hand.

Cassian notices your distraction and the intricate fabric of your attire raising an eyebrow in mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to change into something more... practical?" he asks you once more. His voice laced with skepticism.

You shake your head while stepping forward confidently. "I believe today's session can benefit from a different approach," you explain. Your voice steady, confident. "My attire from the Winter Court is designed not only for aesthetics but for mobility in a certain style of combat. It’s more strategic and less about direct confrontation. It might offer a new perspective for your warriors."

Cassian looks dubious but intrigued by your assurance and the potential learning opportunity for his trainees. After a moment of consideration, he nods slowly. "Alright," he concedes. His tone cautious yet curious. "We'll adjust today's training to focus on technique and precision. We'll go light on the physical combat to accommodate your attire."

Grateful for his flexibility you prepare to demonstrate that finesse and strategy can be as effective as brute strength hoping to prove the value of your unique approach and the versatility of your court's combat style.

As dusk deepened over the training grounds, the session with Cassian was intensifying. He was fully focused on you, guiding, and challenging you with each swing of his blunted training blade. He did not notice Azriel's silent approach until his brother was almost beside them, landing softly. The sudden appearance of Azriel, so smooth and silent, caught your eye at the crucial moment.

Cassian, thinking you were prepared and about to dodge, continued with his planned attack and swung the blunted blade in a broad, sweeping motion towards you. Normally you would have sidestepped smoothly but distracted by Azriel's unexpected arrival you froze. The blade, though blunt for training, struck directly against your side with surprising force due to your lack of movement. The impact was hard enough to slice through the delicate fabric of your Winter Court dress and nick your skin, drawing a line of blood.

Immediately realizing the mishap Cassian dropped his sword and rushed to your side, his expression flooded with concern. "Are you alright? I thought you saw me coming," he asked quickly as his voice was laced with worry.

Trying to mask the sharp sting and the sudden warmth of blood seeping through your dress, you attempted to reassure him, "I’m okay, Cassian, really, it was just a shock more than anything—"

But as you spoke a wave of dizziness overwhelmed you, your knees buckling under the dual assault of pain and sudden faintness. As you started to fall Cassian instinctively reached out, catching you just in time. His hands which were initially meant to steady you felt the wetness of blood through the fabric of your dress. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the bright red on his hands realizing the cut was more serious than a mere scrape.

Without a moment's hesitation Cassian scooped you up into his arms. His movements were swift and filled with urgent care. He looked up at Azriel who had stepped forward, concern etching his features. "Keep the training going, Az. I’m taking her to Madja, now," Cassian instructed firmly. His voice carrying the weight of his resolve.

Azriel nodded understanding the gravity of the situation and stepped back to allow Cassian to pass. Cassian, holding you securely, moved with purposeful speed towards the infirmary. His mind was racing with worry. The flight was quick. His powerful wings beating against the cool air of the evening, each stroke propelling you further away from the training grounds and closer to the healing hands of Madja.

As he flew you clung to him feeling the cool air against your face, which helped alleviate some of the dizziness. "I'm really okay, Cassian," you tried to assure him again, your voice soft, noticing the tension in his body, the way his jaw was set with worry. "It’s just a little cut, I think. I’m sure it’s already healed up."

Cassian only tightened his hold, a gesture of protective care. "We're not taking any chances," he said firmly. His tone brooking no argument. "You’re getting checked out, no arguments."

Suspended in the air, held securely in Cassian's embrace, you noticed the tension in his expression. His jaw set firmly as he navigated through the skies. Wanting to alleviate his concern and lighten the mood you looked up at him, your voice competing with the rush of the wind. "Okay, no arguing," you conceded with a soft, reassuring smile. "But how about an even less swordy day at training tomorrow?"

"You know, maybe we should consider taking a rest day tomorrow," Cassian suggested hesitantly. His voice carrying a protective tone. "Just to be sure you're fully recovered. It might not be wise to jump right back into training."

You looked up at him feeling the warmth of his care but also a spark of your own determination not to be sidelined by a small injury. "I appreciate your concern, Cassian, but really, I feel fine," you countered quickly. A hint of stubbornness in your tone. "A light day as planned with some tactical drills. Nothing too strenuous. I think it would be good for me. For you"

Cassian raised an eyebrow with a small smile breaking through as he sensed your resolve. "Oh, how quickly you've changed your tune, princess," he remarked with a playful smirk. The affectionate tease in his voice floated on the wind as he continued to fly, his grip around you reassuring and strong.

The brief exchange brought a light-heartedness to the moment and Cassian's smile broadened slightly appreciating your spirit and resilience. "Alright, tactical drills it is then. But at the first sign of any discomfort, we're taking a break," he conceded. His tone still carrying a hint of caution but softened by his growing trust in your judgment.

As you both neared the infirmary the flight through the crisp evening air felt less like a rush to aid and more like a shared journey back to stability. Cassian's initial hesitation faded, replaced by a quiet confidence in your resilience and a deepening sense of connection between you. The city of Velaris spread out beneath you, a silent witness to the bond that was strengthening with every beat of Cassian's wings and every word exchanged above the rooftops.

Landing smoothly at the infirmary Cassian carried you inside where Madja was already preparing her tools. Cassian gently laid you down on a cot as his hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes were searching yours for any sign of further distress.

Madja quickly assessed the situation. She cleaned the wound and confirmed it was shallow. Though the blood loss and the shock had caused your faintness. "You'll be fine. Just a little rest and you’ll be up in no time," she reassured both you and Cassian, more so Cassian, who finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

You turn to Cass with a smirk playing on your lips. "See, told you so, General," you tease in an attempt to ease the palpable tension that had followed you from the training grounds.

Cassian's relief is immediate and visible. He lets out a deep breath, the tightness in his shoulders relaxing as he returns your smirk with a wry smile. "Fine, you were right. But let’s avoid making this a habit, shall we?"

Before you can respond the infirmary door swings open abruptly. Rhysand strides in, his expression a mixture of concern and command clearly having been summoned by Cassian’s urgent mental call. His eyes are wide as he quickly scans the room landing on you sitting relatively unscathed on the infirmary bed.

"Are you alright?" Rhysand asks. His voice tight with concern. He moves closer. His gaze flicking from you to Cassian, seeking an explanation.

You nod reassuring him with a calm smile. "I’m just fine, Rhys. Really, it was much less dramatic than it seems. Cassian has been worried enough for everyone," you say, glancing at Cassian with a playful raise of your eyebrows, signaling that all is truly well.

Rhysand's gaze softens though the lines of worry don’t completely disappear. "Cassian briefed me but seeing you well makes a world of difference. These training accidents... Well, they shouldn’t happen. We’ll review the protocols to ensure this is an isolated incident."

Turning to Cassian, Rhysand claps him on the shoulder. A gesture of support mixed with a mild reprimand. "Take care of her. Make sure she follows all of Madja’s instructions," Rhysand instructs, his leader’s tone resurfacing.

Cassian nods solemnly, "Understood. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again."

With a final nod and a comforting smile directed at you Rhys exits the infirmary, his presence leaving as quickly as it arrived. The room feels lighter now, the earlier tension dissipating with the confirmations of your well-being.

Cassian stays by your side. His relief evident but his watchfulness remaining. "Now, about that 'less swordy' day tomorrow..." he begins, ready to shift back into the lighter, teasing dynamic that has marked your growing friendship. Grateful that the day’s scare has ended on a reassuring note.

As Cassian suggests a less physically demanding day focused more on magic you can’t help but giggle. A slight relief moving away from any activities involving bladed weapons. “That sounds perfect,” you agree with enthusiasm brightening your voice as you discuss potential exercises that would let you showcase and refine your control over ice magic without the physical strain.

As the conversation continues Cassian helps you up ensuring you’re stable on your feet and offers his arm for support as you begin the walk back to your quarters. The corridors of the Night Court feel quieter than usual. The soft echo of your steps mingling with the fading adrenaline of the day’s events. There’s a palpable shift between you and Cassian. A new layer of closeness brought on not just by the day’s scare but also by the accumulated time spent together over the past few weeks.

Cassian’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. His voice softer, more reflective than before. “I’ve really enjoyed these last few weeks with you,” he admits. His gaze fixed ahead. “You’ve taught me more than you’ll ever know.” His words hang in the air laden with a sincerity that draws your attention fully to his expression. It’s open, honest, and there’s a hint of vulnerability there that you hadn’t noticed before.

You look at him, touched by his confession, noticing the slight hesitance as if he wants to say more but is holding back. Maybe it’s the fear of crossing an unseen boundary or the uncertainty of your reaction that keeps him from continuing.

Encouraged by his openness you respond warmly, “And I’ve learned a lot from you, too, Cassian. Not just about fighting or training but about what it means to really care about your warriors, your friends.” You pause searching his face for a reaction. “It means a lot to me, all of this time we’ve spent together.”

Cassian’s eyes meet yours and there’s a moment of silent communication. A mutual understanding and appreciation that seems to deepen the bond between you. “I’m glad,” he finally says with his voice low. “I hope we can keep this going, no matter what the training schedule says.”

As you reach your quarters there’s a reluctance to part between the both of you. A desire to prolong the connection that has clearly grown beyond the confines of instructor and trainee. Cassian lingers at your door, his usual confidence tempered with a newfound tenderness.

“Get some rest princess,” he says softly before stepping back with a reluctant smile. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow. Less swordy, more... magical.”

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling a warmth that extends beyond the fading pain from your injury. “I look forward to it, Cassian. Thank you for everything today.”

He nods, then turns to leave, but not before throwing a look over his shoulder. It was a promise of more shared moments, more lessons, and perhaps, deeper revelations yet to come. The door closes softly behind you leaving you with a sense of anticipation for what the next day might bring, both in training and in your evolving relationship with Cassian.

After the incident at the training grounds and a night of rest you dive back into the treaty negotiations with renewed focus. As the talks commence you are at the forefront, your diplomatic skills shining as you navigate the complexities of the discussions. Your adept use of magic not only impresses but also serves as a poignant reminder of the Winter Court's strengths and capabilities. The treaty talks progress smoothly and a successful agreement begins to take shape much to the relief and satisfaction of all parties involved.

However, despite the importance of the negotiations and your central role in them your thoughts intermittently drift to Cassian. The memory of his concerned eyes, his protective stance, and the warmth of your conversation lingers with you, distracting you more than you'd like to admit. As you mentally rehearse your next points in the discussion, you find your mind replaying moments from the training sessions, his laughter, his teasing remarks, and his unexpectedly gentle care.

Unbeknownst to you, your mental shields—usually so meticulously maintained—begin to slip slightly amid your daydreams. Rhysand, who was not actively probing but is always somewhat attuned to the emotional and mental state of those around him, picks up on your wandering thoughts. He catches snippets of your internal musings about Cassian, not enough to grasp the full context but enough to piece together the gist of your distraction.

Throughout the meeting a knowing grin slowly forms on Rhysand's face, amused by the realization of your burgeoning feelings for his brother. He doesn't comment on it during the talks. Making sure to maintain his professionalism and focusing on the successful closure of the treaty. However, the little smile that occasionally plays at the corners of his mouth doesn't go unnoticed by those who know him well.

Later, as the meeting concludes with handshakes and a collective sigh of relief over the treaty's ratification. Rhysand pulls Cassian aside just before your evening training session. In a quiet corner away from prying ears Rhysand's grin broadens.

"I think someone has managed to catch more than just your training expertise," Rhysand teases as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Our Winter Court princess seems to be a bit distracted by a certain general." As Rhysand delivers his playful revelation, Cassian's initial surprise quickly shifts to a broad, almost uncontrollable grin that spreads across his face. The sudden display of joy is uncharacteristic of the usually composed general, revealing just how deeply the news has affected him.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" Cassian tries to maintain a semblance of composure, but his voice betrayed a hint of excitement beneath the casual façade.

Rhysand notices the change in Cassian's demeanor. The light in his eyes that hadn't been there moments before. "Well, let's just say that her thoughts were a little less guarded than usual," Rhysand replied. His voice laced with amusement. "She might be more interested in the person teaching her than just the lessons themselves."

Cassian's smile widens and he shakes his head slightly almost in disbelief but clearly delighted by the prospect. "Is that so?" he murmurs more to himself than to Rhysand, his mind already spinning with the implications.

Rhysand watches Cassian's bright grin, a knowing look crossing his face as he teases, "Seems like those training sessions are about more than just tactics and spells."

Cassian’s expression remains upbeat but a hint of seriousness creeps in. "They’re enlightening," he admits while giving a nod. "There’s something unique about her… beyond just her skills."

Sensing the depth in Cassian’s tone, Rhysand's demeanor shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative. "Just be careful, Cass. It’s easy to let your guard down when strong feelings are involved."

Cassian pauses as he felt a weight in Rhysand's caution. He looks at his brother, a silent plea for understanding without words. Rhysand, ever perceptive, senses the depth of Cassian’s feelings, realizing this might be more than just a fleeting fascination. "Cassian, do you think she could be…" Rhysand trails off leaving the implication hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of possibilities. His question is subtle, probing—asking if Cassian feels the deep, fated connection of a mate.

Cassian meets Rhysand's gaze with his own eyes reflecting a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I don’t know," he confesses softly. "But there’s something there. Something that feels… right. More than I've felt before."

Rhysand nods slowly as he processed this new revelation. His initial caution softens into a more supportive stance. "Then take it seriously but carefully. If this is what I think it might be, it’s not just significant for you but could be for the Night Court as well."

He places a hand on Cassian’s shoulder with a firm, reassuring grip. "Follow your heart but keep your head with you. She’s not just any visitor. She could and is likely to be much more."

As Rhysand walks away leaving Cassian to ponder the future the conversation not only cements Cassian's resolve but also clarifies the stakes. It’s a turning point. Marking a shift from casual interest to considering the profound potential of a deep, lifelong bond. Cassian feels empowered and cautious now acutely aware of the significant path that might be unfolding before him. This is no longer about training or simple affection. It could be the beginning of the rest of his life, your life.

As dusk settles over Velaris with the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the training grounds, Cassian awaits your arrival. His mind a jumbled swirl of thoughts from the earlier conversation with Rhysand. His anticipation is palpable, heightened by the significant discussions about feelings and futures that may be closer than he's admitted to himself.

During that first meeting in the dining hall his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. As he and Azriel entered mid-argument his initial focus was entirely on their spirited debate not the important dinner he was walking into. The sudden sight of you was an unexpected and striking presence. You brought a sharp halt to his thoughts.

Cassian was immediately struck by your poise and the quiet confidence with which you held yourself among such esteemed company. His first impression was of your elegance and the serene way you observed the dynamic entrance he and Azriel made. There was something about the way you carried yourself as a blend of strength and grace that captivated him instantly.

Embarrassment quickly flooded him with a blush creeping up his neck as he realized the discordant note their arrival struck in the otherwise serene setting. There you were, seated elegantly among the dignitaries of the Night Court with an aura of quiet confidence radiating from you. Despite the potentially disruptive entrance your expression remained unflustered. The slight, knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips, and the amusement twinkling in your eyes spoke volumes. It was clear you were not only unfazed by the raucous disruption but also mildly entertained by it.

What struck Cassian more deeply was the way your attention seemed focused solely on him, as if the room and its other occupants had faded into the background. This singular focus, paired with the amused arch of your brow, left him feeling both exposed and intrigued. It was as if you could see right through to his typically hidden insecurities prompting a mix of vulnerability and a compelling desire to engage further.

Cassian felt a twinge of chagrin for not having presented a more composed entrance. Especially in front of someone who commanded such a presence as you did. The initial embarrassment, however, slowly morphed into a quiet determination. He was keenly aware that he had an opportunity to make a more meaningful second impression. One that could perhaps intrigue and draw you in just as you had captivated him from that first shared glance.

As he moved to regain his composure, smoothing back his hair, and adjusting his jacket, Cassian was already plotting how to transform this awkward beginning into an opening for deeper connection. The evening had just begun, and he was determined to show you a side of him that resonated with the depth and discernment he now saw reflected in your gaze.

When Rhysand later suggested that Cassian take the lead on your physical training, he seized the opportunity without hesitation. Training was his domain where he felt most in command and most himself. He anticipated that in the structure and discipline of physical training, among the straightforwardness of drills and exercises, there might be space for more informal interactions. For laughter and light conversations that could bridge the gap between formal dining hall introductions and a genuine connection.

Cassian saw each upcoming session as a canvas. As an opportunity to impress and engage you, not just with his skills but with his insights and his approach to teaching and leadership. Privately he knew he’d have to thank Rhysand for the suggestion—whether it was a calculated move or just a fortuitous throwaway idea, it had given him a golden opportunity to explore the potential that he sensed bubbling beneath your initial poised exterior.

He was intrigued, more so than he had been for a long time. The initial physical attraction was strong. Yet it was your demeanor, the intriguing mix of diplomacy and candor, that truly piqued his interest. Cassian left the dining hall that evening with his mind full of questions and curiosities about you. He was eager for the next opportunity to interact and perhaps to understand the compelling figure you were beyond just the surface.

From the memories of that first dinner to the present moment on the training grounds, Cassian's journey of understanding and admiration for you had woven through weeks of anticipation and subtle discoveries. Each interaction had added layers to his initial perception, enriching the image he held of you in his mind.

Then as if to punctuate his thoughts you appeared for the training session, garbed unmistakably in Illyrian warrior attire. Much different than the training leathers and Winter Court apparel he had grown used to see you in. The traditional leathers of his people clung to you, accentuating both strength and grace in your every move. The sight of you in such commanding attire sent a jolt through Cassian. His reaction visceral and immediate. His eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration flashing across his face as he took in every detail—the way the leather fit you, how it moved with your body, and the undeniable air of confidence it brought to your demeanor.

The transformation was not just in your appearance but in the energy you exuded. Standing there you embodied the strength and resilience of an Illyrian warrior, qualities that resonated deeply with Cassian’s own identity. It struck him then how seamlessly you seemed to integrate into his world. How naturally you adopted its symbols and its strength. This was no longer just about training or sharing skills. It was a visual affirmation of your integration into his life and culture.

As he approached you his initial shock gave way to a profound respect. The way you carried the weight of the armor, the casual yet respectful nod you gave him as he walked up. These small actions spoke volumes. Cassian felt a renewed sense of connection. A deeper bond forming not just from shared interests and conversations but from seeing you embrace a part of his heritage with such ease and honor.

In that moment as he closed the distance between you, Cassian realized how deeply he was drawn to you, far beyond the physical allure. It was your spirit. Your willingness to step into his world, to don the armor of his people and stand ready to engage on equal footing. This realization brought a warmth to his chest and a smile to his lips. One that was both proud and welcoming.

As you stood before Cassian in the Illyrian warrior attire your presence was a striking blend of determination and slight apprehension. The soft evening light cast long shadows across the training grounds accentuating the quiet resolve in your posture. You were about to propose a change to the day’s lighter, planned routine. While confident in your suggestion there was a hint of nervousness tinged your voice, reflecting the care you took in challenging the agenda.

"Um, Cassian," you started, your voice carrying a cautious undertone, "I know we planned for a less sword-intensive session today..." You paused trying to gather your thoughts. But before you could continue your eyes met Cassian’s, their intensity like a direct challenge, causing a sudden vulnerability to flutter in your stomach. His gaze was penetrating, studying you with a warmth and focus that unnerved you. For a moment the confidence you felt started to waver under his scrutiny. The depth of his attention making you want to melt into a puddle right there on the training grounds.

However, drawing a deep breath, you summoned your resolve. Despite the shake in your confidence, you pressed on bolstered by the knowledge that this was an important step in your training. "I feel fine. But I've been thinking. I'm already quite familiar with my magic, and not as much with swordsmanship." Your voice grew slightly firmer as you continued, "Maybe, if it’s alright, we could incorporate more of that?" As you reached the end of your proposal a slight stammer betrayed your nervousness. "If you're okay with that, that is," you added with a nervous smile. Eager yet uncertain of his response.

Cassian, still somewhat in awe of your striking appearance and the commanding aura you exuded in the traditional leathers was momentarily taken aback. His response was on the tip of his tongue, an agreement forming, when Azriel quietly joined the duo. Observing the scene, Azriel noted your determined stance and Cassian’s admiring gaze. A knowing smirk crept onto Azriel’s face. "Looks like she’s going to give you a run for your money, brother," he teased unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

Cassian was caught between his brother's teasing and your challenging proposal but managed to regain his composure. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, his confidence rekindled by the familiar banter and the prospect of a spirited training session. "Alright then," he agreed with a nod. A smile breaking through as he embraced the challenge, "swords it is. Let’s see what you’ve got."

As the session progressed Azriel lingered on the sidelines, his eyes shifting between the clashing swords and Cassian’s animated instructions. Every now and then he couldn’t resist throwing in a light-hearted jab especially when it seemed like Cassian was particularly impressed by your quick learning curve or deft movements. "Careful, Cass, I think she might just outdo you in your own game," Azriel called out after a particularly skillful maneuver from you. His tone teasing but proud of you.

Cassian shot a mock-glare at Azriel, but his eyes sparkled with humor and something softer, an undeniable delight in your prowess and enthusiasm. Despite himself Cassian found that he enjoyed this, the mix of training intensity and the undercurrent of playful rivalry. Not just between him and you but with Azriel's involvement as well. It felt oddly, natural. You’d found a way to integrate yourself into the court within only a month of being in Velaris.

Throughout the training Cassian’s admiration for you only grew. Every block, every parry you performed with increasing confidence seemed to not only impress him but also deepen the sense of connection that he felt. This wasn’t just about teaching you how to handle a sword. It was about sharing a piece of his world, his passion, and seeing you embrace it with such fervor was both exhilarating and endearing.

As the sun dipped below the horizon Azriel’s teasing remarks faded into the background, replaced by a quiet acknowledgment of the shift he saw in Cassian. It was clear to him that his brother was, indeed, in trouble. But in the best possible way. Cassian's usually unshakeable demeanor was softer when he looked at you, filled with a mix of pride, respect, and a burgeoning affection that went beyond the confines of the training ring.

When the session finally wound down and the cool evening air settled around, both you and Cassian were catching your breath, reveling in the afterglow of intense physical exertion. It was then that Azriel, unable to resist the opportunity for a little brotherly teasing, stepped forward. Clapping Cassian on the back with a broad grin he couldn’t help but comment, "Well, that was quite a performance. And here I thought today was supposed to be less about swords."

Cassian, still a bit winded from the session, shot Azriel a quick, warning glance. But even he couldn’t hide the amused smile that tugged at his lips, indicative of his own acknowledgment of the shift in plans. Your puzzled look darted between the two brothers catching the tail end of their dynamic, your smile mirroring Cassian's albeit with a touch of confusion.

"Less swords, more magic, but I guess plans change when you're dressed for battle," you chimed in attempting to play off Azriel's comment, still somewhat oblivious to the deeper layers of teasing.

Azriel’s smirk widened as he observed the interplay, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Absolutely, plans do change. Especially when a certain someone decides to show up looking ready to join the ranks of Illyrian warriors," he teased you, turning his gaze back to Cassian with a sly expression. "Makes a general reconsider his strategies."

Caught in the moment, you shared the origin of your attire, a light chuckle escaping you. "Feyre absolutely insisted on me wearing the traditional leathers," you explained, your smile fond as you recalled Feyre's insistence. "I thought it was just for protection, given the training. She seemed really adamant about it."

Cassian’s expression softened at this with a brief smile acknowledging the hidden hand of Rhysand in this setup. Though he connected the dots, realizing his brother's likely involvement in Feyre's insistence, he chose to keep this revelation to himself. Instead, he simply nodded, appreciating your earnestness and perhaps, deep down, thankful for the unintended push it gave him to see you in a new light—strong, capable, and utterly captivating in Illyrian leathers.

As the training session drew to a close and the night deepened around them, the playful banter and shared laughter began to ebb. Azriel's remarks, though lighthearted, had hinted at the shift he observed in the dynamics between you and Cassian. A development that seemed to promise much more than just companionship in the future.

Recognizing the cooling air and the perfect, serene evening that enveloped Velaris, Cassian suggested a leisurely walk back through the city. "How about I walk you home tonight? It's a nice evening to cool down and stretch out after training," he proposed. His voice casual but with a hopeful undertone.

Azriel caught the subtle inflection in Cassian’s tone and simply couldn’t resist one more jab, his knowing smile broadening into a full-blown, mischievous grin. "Sure, take your time," he teased, his voice rich with implication. With a final chuckle and a wink at Cassian, Azriel spread his wings and took to the skies leaving you both to the quiet of the evening streets.

Cassian walked beside you there was a thoughtful distance in his initial steps. As if he was contemplating the right words or simply savoring the shared silence. Gradually, he drew closer, his presence a comforting constant at your side. The soft lighting from the streetlamps cast gentle shadows and the faint rustle of the leaves created a backdrop that enriched the moment with a quaint, almost magical quality.

Every now and then his hand would lightly touch your arm or guide you around an uneven patch on the cobblestones. Each contact sending a quiet thrill through you. Despite the casual nature of the walk there was an undercurrent of something deeper. A thread of anticipation weaving through the air between you.

"Same time tomorrow?" Cassian finally broke the silence. His voice a blend of softness and something undefinable yet unmistakably tender.

"Definitely," you replied with your smile genuine and wide. The connection you felt with Cassian was undeniable and while you might not fully grasp the depth of his feelings, the pull towards him was strong and only growing stronger with each passing day.

When you reached your quarters Cassian lingered for a moment, his demeanor protective and gentle. He seemed reluctant to part ways, but he was satisfied to know you were safe for the night. "Make sure you rest well tonight," he said with his hand resting briefly on your back, his smile warm and lingering as he wished you a good night.

Retreating to your room, the echoes of the evening replayed in your mind. The laughter, Azriel's teasing, the soft, serious timbre of Cassian's voice asking to see you again. There was an excitement brewing within you. An eagerness for what these sessions and these new feelings might lead to. It was an intriguing mix of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, stepping into this newfound connection with Cassian, but every instinct told you it was a path worth exploring. As you settled down with thoughts of the next day’s training, and more importantly, of seeing Cassian again, it filled you with a warm sense of expectation and a quiet joy.

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letosmauddib · 1 month

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Difficult Arrangements

FEYD RAUTHA x Y/N reader - arranged marriage (she/ her pronouns)

18+ - please do not read/ interact if you are underage / uncomfortable

Warnings - Implied Smut, (It's on in part 2 <3 -), pregnancy mentions, arranged marriage factors, medical talk, speaking of breeding?

please interact! I love to see the feedback:)

PT.2 HERE-

“The best course of action might be a stimulant, something to engage her desire for more frequent intercourse?” She felt like the examination table was growing colder against her. She stared down at her socked feet, trying to keep herself away from the conversation the three men in the room were having regarding her desire to fucking her husband. Feyd stood next to her slumped form, growing increasingly annoyed with what he was deeming to be a ridiculous conversation. “What have the endless tests you’ve been performing resulted in? Seemingly a waste of time..” He responded, annoyed at their uncertain responses and experimental solutions. “Na-Baron, Sir… the sake of the lineage needs to make sure the compatibility is there..it’s unfortunately not very simple to resolve with just practical medicine.” She glanced at his blank expression, his jaw clenched; “So what are you two doing to assist the issue?” “We have been researching natural ways to accelerate or increase the probability of pregnancy and we believe the stimulants in specific foods can help. Another practice has been proven to help as well..” The medic adjusted his stance, not seemingly wanting to speak on it further. Feyd was losing patience fast, “And it is?” “Making sure there is a willingness from the female to er- engage, and for her to accomplish climax during the ovulation period…” Her brain felt like it could slip out of her head, three men discussing the logistics of her lack of orgasm and lack of pregnancy being connected. Her willingness to become impregnated with Feyd-Rautha’s child was being questioned. She sits across from dozens of scans and files on her body. Y/N blanked out the rest of the conversation, tired from her lack of sleep and her lack of breakfast. She had grown used to the schedule set by her husband and felt the effects of falling out of schedule. As the discussion toned down, she felt herself unable to daze off. “No, she won’t be touched or examined by a man. I’ve stated this before and I am growing quite a disdain for these stupid statements..” He wasn’t being difficult due to interest in her lack of comfort, it was more his. Feyd was territorial with what he deemed to be ‘his’. Every male around understood they could lose a limb, or their lives if they attempted to touch her. Guards were extraordinarily careful, whilst noblemen and relatives acted as though she simply did not exist. “Na-Baron, her the Na-Baroness’ nurse and doctor are off-planet and won’t be back for at least a week.” “Then, the examination will happen in a week. I would strongly advise both of you to step out and get back to finding more helpful solutions.” Both medics excused themselves as they stepped out. Leaving them alone in the examination room. Feyd glanced over her form, his hand slipped to the back of her neck, fingers against her soft hair. “Even more quiet than usual mouse…”

She could feel the tears building but she couldn’t do it, “I-I’ve grown quite tired of these appointments.” She whispered. “I just wish I would just be pregnant..” Feyd wasn’t one to show much empathy or emotion since their courtship. He was quite a lunatic and had complete disregard for anyone and everything around him. But he noticed her defeat, 6 months of marriage attempts since their wedding, and no heir. She was raised to strive for motherhood and couldn’t seem to accomplish the part of becoming a mother. “I have to get back to training, let’s get you to the dining room for breakfast.”

He walked next to her, keeping her at a close distance through their stride of the endless hallway. Her mind drifted off to how loving her parents were, how they held hands through walks and constantly embraced. She wasn’t sure how he would react to an attempt at affection. Although she craved the sweetness of a hug or a cuddle, she didn’t think to attempt anything. She slowed down to glance out the giant windows. She longed for soft grass fields and flowers to step through and lay in from her home world. Feyd could see her longing stare, he knew well that she wasn’t present in those silent moments.

They didn’t say a word to each other until they reached the dining room. The servants were setting up a big portioned breakfast. “I will be back after training, I want all of your portions eaten. I will be reported back to.” She nodded, not up for arguing with her husband today. Before she could step in, his strong arms pulled her in for a kiss. His lips were rough against hers, her hands instinctively reaching for his waist. Before it could deepen, he pulled away, allowing her to step back. “I’ll be devouring you for a nice late breakfast after training. Be good for me pet.” She nodded sheepishly, aware of his statement, and she approached her predetermined feast.

PT. 2 coming sooon

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune pt 2 #feyd oneshot #austin butler #dune part two #dune #dune movie #smut imagine #imagine #one shot #drabble #fanfiction #fanfic

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atlasofthestaars · 7 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .010

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: Finally to chapter 10!

Don’t think too hard about this poll, it’s only kinda relevant to the plot, but not in a major way. You can theorize what this means, but I won’t really confirm what it means.

Please let me know of the love interests the reader has interacted with so far is your favorite! Preferably in the context of the story !

A list of the choices I’m talking about are: Liu Kang. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas, Kung Lao, Raiden, Kenshi, and Johnny Cage.

As usual, taking these opinions for about a week after this goes up, aka when the tumblr poll ends!

Kitana made it in as a love interest! I was NOT expecting the total landslide victory she had haha

As a friendly reminder, this story is canon divergent :) Also, this is Mortal Kombat, but I did feel the need to warn for gore near the end!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO WITNESSES SOMETHING TRULY IMPORTANT

Today was finally the day.

Basking in the sunrise, a large grin spread across your face. The gentle beams of light warmed you up to combat the light breeze that passed by. You felt the excitement that surged through you, reminding you of how you felt the day of the entry exam for Kung Lao and Raiden.

That was months ago, and you could hardly believe how much time had passed.

“I see that you are eager for today.” Liu Kang remarked. You turned your head to look back at the god, unable to hide your excitement. The fire god smiled just as brightly as you did, amusement sparkling within his glowing eyes.

“It’s hard not to be.” You quipped, your fingers tapping the wooden railing. You closed your eyes as you envisioned your students that you had trained hard to get to where they were now. Sure, you had been given students that had been trained well, but it was undeniable that you left a positive influence in honing their skills. “We’ll finally determine who Earthrealm’s champion is.”

“We shall indeed.” Liu Kang stepped beside you, his shoulder brushing against you gently. You enjoyed the warmth the fire god radiated, it felt comforting as usual. He looked at the sunrise. It was funny to you how, despite being a god, he always seemed to enjoy these mundane early mornings with you. Then, he returned his gaze back to you. “Do you have any predictions on who it will be?”

“That’s like picking a favorite.” You pointed out. Still, you pursed your lips and sighed as you deliberated over the answer. You let out a small hum, scooting just a touch closer to Liu Kang. It was colder than usual, and you sought out his warmth. The demigod did not complain as your arm brushed up against him. “I think in my heart I believe in Raiden, but I know he has not beaten Kung Lao yet.”

“I see.” Liu Kang replied. There was something to his tone of voice that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he expected that answer, but there was also something else there. “Thank you for undertaking the training for the champions.”

“Thank you for believing in me.” You countered, looking at the god. You paused, trying to remember the words he told you long ago. “I remember how you told me that you trusted me to do this task, all those months ago.” Your gaze dropped to your fidgeting hands. “It really inspired me to hear those words from you. Not just because you’re a god, but because it’s well…you who trusted me, if that makes sense.”

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder. Yet this time, it was on the shoulder furthest from Liu Kang, making his arm gently wrap around your shoulders. He gave your shoulder a squeeze, bringing you just a little closer to him. It was comforting. You looked over to the fire god beside you to see an expression that told you that he was so proud of you.

“I am honored to have inspired you.” Liu Kang said, his voice a bit quieter this time. There was pride and joy within his voice, but you could sense a hint of something else within his tone. It was something you couldn’t quite place, but it made you happy regardless. He paused, eyes searching you. For a moment, you saw his eyebrows furrow and there was an almost imperceptible sadness in his eyes. Then, in the next instant, it was gone.

What was that?

“Not many can say that a god was honored to motivate them.” You pointed out with a chuckle, joking around to push out the confusion you felt. Were you just seeing things? Or had Liu Kang truly been sad in that one instant? And if he had…why?

“It is only because few are worthy of such praise.” Liu Kang pointed out, and you felt your cheeks grow warm at the compliment. You focused your eyes upon the sunrise once more. You both stood there, side by side, enjoying the early morning peace. “Are you excited to see Outworld?” The god inquired, breaking the silence.

“Excited feels like such an understatement.” You admitted watching the sun rise high into the sky. The oranges and pinks faded out, giving way for a soft blue. “I feel like I might finally learn something about myself once I finally go there.” You told him, alluding to the memories the two of you had long since stopped talking about.

“I hope that you will.” Liu Kang said, though there was a strange tone in his voice. Hesitance? There were a lot of emotions you couldn’t decipher well from him at the moment. You felt his fingers twitch on your shoulders. “Would you ever consider staying in Outworld, given the chance?”

“I…” You began, but your mind blanked. You blinked as you took a deep breath in, trying to think of what you would do. In all honesty, you weren’t certain. The voice in your head told you that you needed to leave this place and go explore in order to figure yourself out. But on the other hand, if you left, you would be leaving the whole life you had been building up behind. “I’m not sure.”

“No need to concern yourself over such a choice right now.” Liu Kang told you, concern in his tone as he noticed how torn you were. Had you been looking over, you would have seen a hint of relief on his face. “It was merely a hypothetical.”

“I know.” You said, shrugging. “I just never really thought about it.” You admitted, sighing. “Plus, I doubt they would let an Earthrealmer wander around, from what you told me.”

“They are not often fond of Earthrealmers, but that does not mean it is impossible for you to go there and be accepted.” He consoled you. “Do not forget that you are not exactly a normal Earthrealmer.” He told you, reminding you of your potential origins.

You looked at your arms again, remembering the innate magic running through your blood.

Right. There was a high chance you were an Edenian. A theory only you and the fire god knew. You sighed leaning against the railing. Would it really make a difference if you were of Outworld blood? You were essentially a stranger to everything in Outworld, making you no different than an Earthrealmer.

Sensing your distress, Liu Kang squeezed your shoulder again.

“My apologies.” He said softly, his gaze gentle as he scanned your face. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” You reassured him, turning to look at him. You brought a hand up and placed it on his hand, squeezing it. “I just worry too much, sometimes, you know me.” You said, poking fun at yourself to lighten up the situation.

“Your worries are not unfounded.” The fire god reassured you, nodding. “But just know, no matter what choice you make in the future, you always have a home in Earthrealm.”

Your heart swelled, knowing very well he was right. No matter where you went, you knew that you at least had a place to call home. It was a comfort not many had to fall back on. You closed your eyes, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face.

“I know.”

“Here you go.”

“Finally!” Kung Lao grinned as he took the box from you. You grinned back, watching as he opened the box up and held up the final product. He took in a deep breath as he looked between you and the hat, unable to contain his joy.

“Go on, put it on.” You encouraged him, gesturing for him to put the hat on. With a nod, he lifted the hat and placed it on his head. You inhaled, feeling that all too familiar wave of nostalgia wash over you. The hat just looked so…right.

“How do I look? Perfect, right?” Kung Lao asked, cockiness in his voice as he struck a pose for you to show off the hat. You snapped out of your stupor.

“I think you’d look a little better like this.” You said, raising a hand up to put a hand on the brim of the hat. You laughed as you pulled the hat down, covering his eyes. He let out a shout of protest as he adjusted the hat back up.

“Foul play!” He huffed, a small pout on his lips as he pulled it back up. He shot you a playful glare, to which only made you laugh again. “I know you’re just jealous though of how good I look.” Kung Lao tacked on, making you roll your eyes. “Oh, here, by the way.”

“Hm?” Confused, you grabbed the small box the former farmhand shoved into your hands. You looked down at it before looking back up, sending him a confused look. “What’s this?” You inquired, lifting the box up to try and inspect it.

“Well, typically when one wants to know what’s in a box, they open it.” Kung Lao pointed out sarcastically. You shot him a narrowed look, making him hold his hands up in surrender. “Just open it!” He insisted, nodding towards the box.

“Alright.” You relented. You opened the box slowly, not certain of what waited for you. You let out an involuntary gasp as you saw the contents. It was a necklace with a chinese dragon engraved intricately. In its hands held two small jade orbs. “When did you…?”

“I made a small request for the blacksmith to make you something too.” The former farmhand admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He sounded humble as he, in an almost shy way, looked away. He was trying to play it cool. “I got Madam Bo to help design the dragon, and she also provided the jade, Lord Liu Kang also approved of the design too.”

“This is amazing.” You said, unable to hide a grin that spread from ear to ear. “Thank you, Kung Lao.”

“It’s nothing.” Kung Lao said, putting on his best cocky smile. “You helped me make my hat dreams come true, it’s only fair.” You lifted up the necklace from the box, admiring the craftsmanship in the light. It was truly breathtaking.

“Can you help me put it on?” You asked, looking at the man. He nodded, and you handed it to him, and turned around. Delicately, he placed the chain around your neck, his fingertips brushing against your neck in a gentle way. “Thank you.”

“Just know now you have something to show off now whenever you talk about Earthrealm’s champion.” Kung Lao bragged as you turned around. You rolled your eyes again, but was unable to hold back a laugh at his bravado.

“We’ll see today if that rings true.” You told him, before turning your attention to Liu Kang who you saw walking into the Wu Shi. “Go back to the others, we’re starting soon.” You instructed him, before quickly running off to go meet up with the fire god.

“I see Kung Lao has his hat.” Liu Kang observed, watching your student run off towards the courtyard. You nodded, smiling as you joined the god’s side. Said fire god’s gaze drifted down and looked at your new necklace. “And I see you have your new necklace.” He said warmly. a smile pulling at his lips. “It looks lovely on you.”

“Thank you.” You said, accepting the compliment. You looked around, sighing. “It’s hard to believe that we’re leaving for Outworld in a week.” You commented, staring up. “I know we just discussed it earlier, but still…it’s hitting me in waves of realization.”

“Indeed. Time passes quite quickly.” Liu Kang said, nodding. You wondered just how mere months felt to the god who, as far as you were concerned, was immortal. “Come, let us go and begin the exams.” He said, tilting his head to the path ahead. You followed, matching his path to the courtyard.

Once you reached the courtyard, you spotted the four. You smiled, observing them as they discussed amongst themselves. You assumed they were probably bickering, from the expressions on their faces. You blinked as Liu Kang handed you a mallet, gesturing to the gong. You nodded, understanding what he wanted, and swung at the gong. the sound reverberating throughout the Wu Shi.

“And today, one of you will be chosen to fight for it at the tournament.” Liu Kang said, his arms spread out. He walked towards the four men, stopping just before the steps. You followed behind, hands behind your back as you put on your display of teacher professionalism. As the four stopped in front of you two, you stepped to stand beside the god.

“Only one of us, Lord Liu Kang?” Raiden inquired, looking at the two of you. You nodded silently. “Isn’t Outworld fielding several champions?”

“The tournament’s rules give the host that advantage.” Liu Kang explained, looking around at the four men. “And it is Outworld’s turn as host.”

“You know…I don’t why I’ve never asked this…” Johnny piped up, placing his hands on his hips. He looked towards Raiden, chuckling before looking back at Liu Kang. “What’s our record at this tournament? Also uh,” The actor gestured towards you, “Why doesn’t teach over there participate either?”

“Outworld and Earthrealm are pretty even in wins.” You explain, speaking up once Liu Kang looked towards you. “Though, as of late, Earthrealm has been on a bit of a winning streak.” You say, remembering what the fire god had told you about the tournament. “As for me not participating, it’s not my place to participate.” You explained vaguely. You watched as the four looked at you perplexed.

When the tournament had been brought up to you years ago, Liu Kang and you had both agreed that it was probably best for you to not participate. Your potential status as an Edenian, though no one knew of it, would probably be the topic of controversy if that ever got out. It was just better this way.

That and…you had a feeling that someone else was destined for that title.

“Indeed, Earthrealm has been on a winning streak as of late.” Liu Kang said, picking up where you left off. “However, in retaliation, Outworld has been gaining strength.” His voice grew more serious. “Should it win, it’s more militant factions will be emboldened.”

“I thought you admired Outworld?” Raiden questioned. His tone was polite, though it did drip of confusion at the statements Liu Kang had just said. You figured that was fair, Liu Kang spoke very little ill of the other realm.

“It is a place of great knowledge, wealth, and beauty.” Liu Kang said, walking down the steps. You followed in tow. It was hard to believe the words that left Liu Kang’s mouth, the old version of Outworld burned into your mind. It made you all the more eager to erase those negative memories, and see the new realm he spoke so fondly of.

“But our realms do not share goals and beliefs.” The protector of Earthrealm continued. He walked forward with you by side, and the four candidates for champions followed behind. “We coexist peacefully because Outworld respects our strength.”Should we show weakness, our rival…will become our enemy.”

You held your breath for a moment, briefly remembering Earthrealm in ruins after an attack by a powerful tyrant.

That could not happen. You surely had trained the four enough, right?

“I will not lose, Lord Liu Kang.” Kung Lao spoke, snapping you out of your memories. You glanced over to Kung Lao, holding back a huff. Ever the proud man, but you knew very well that he could back it up. He, after all, won the most during spars and had a lot of potential. His pride was not unfounded.

“First you must win the right to represent us.” Liu Kang told him. You all approached the monks, standing respectfully for you all. In front of you, in the center of the monks was a luxurious wooden chair. Liu Kang stood in front of it, and you took your place behind the chair, standing vigilantly. “Whichever outlasts the others will be chosen.”

Liu Kang sat, and the monks all sat as well. You remained standing, looking carefully at the four you had been in charge of training over several months. You took in a deep breath as silence settled in. Liu Kang had put you in charge of deciding who to test.

“Raiden.” You spoke up. Quickly, the man’s eyes met yours. You stared back, scrutinizing the man before gesturing. “You will go first.” You instructed, following the instinct you had in your gut. You watched as Raiden stepped forward, bowing towards you and Liu Kang. You smiled at him. Then, you heard Johnny Cage’s laugh.

“Good call.” Johnny said, his arms crossed as he looked at his peer. “Cull the weak first.” He said with the utmost confidence. His arms uncrossed, placing his hands on hips. His chest puffed out, showing off his confidence. A smug smile appeared on his face.

“Johnny Cage.” You addressed, meeting his eyes. You held back a sly grin as you nodded towards the place next to Raiden. “You will be his challenger.” Despite the instruction, the confidence did not falter at all, which was expected.

“Ready for your close up?” Kenshi commented.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Johnny Cage confidently said. He leaned forward, stretching a bit. Then he looked over to Raiden and pointed at him. “But remember, farm boy, I’m a global martial arts icon.” The actor bragged. Kenshi and Kung Lao left for the sidelines, allowing the two to get in their positions. “I don’t think you can handle this much boom.”

“I am ready, Johnny Cage.” Raiden replied simply. He was not deterred from the swagger the actor brought. You smiled, glad to see that over time, his training had instilled more confidence within his abilities. “My mind and spirit fight as one.”

“Fight!” Liu Kang’s voice rang out.

You held your breath as it began. Early on, you watched as Johnny Cage took the advantage, going aggressive against Raiden. Predictably, his reckless style was soon countered by the defensive and reactive way Raiden fought against him.

It did not take long for Raiden to take down the actor, in the end.

“This fight was an honor.” The former farmhand remarked. He stretched out a hand towards Johnny, who sat on the ground. There was a moment of hesitance, and you saw the unhappy look on the American’s face. Still, he took the hand and got up with the winner’s help.

“You’re welcome.” Johnny replied, a slight disgruntled tone in his voice. Still, he took the loss as it were.

“Kenshi Takahashi.” You spoke, watching as Johnny Cage walked off, shaking off the loss. Your eyes traveled to the swordsman, who was now alert. “You will face Raiden next.” You instructed. The man nodded, stepping up to the fighting grounds, his sword already unsheathed.

“You have skills, Raiden, but you’re inexperienced.” Kenshi remarked, staring down his competition. Your eyebrows raised at the barest hint of trash talk.

“Whatever experience I lack, I make up for in heart.” Raiden countered, once again not thrown off by his opponent’s insult. He even did not go to insult them back, remaining humble as ever. Determined, he matched Kenshi’s gaze.

“It’s nerve, not heart, that wins fights.” The swordsman berated. His eyes narrowed, at what he thought was the folly of his opponent. The two settled into their fighting stances, ready to duke it out for the position. “I should know, I’ve been in hundreds of them.”

This fight was much slower paced. It was a patient battle between two fighters who did not dare to show weakness to the other. Blows were traded with caution, and you noticed how every moment of weaknesses from either one was exploited. It was tense, despite the defensive fight.

Still, in the end, Kenshi had underestimated his opponent. Ultimately he went for an attack that was too risky. Taking advantage of it, Raiden took the chance and toppled his opponent, leaving Kenshi lying on the ground in defeat.

“Do you still question my nerve?” Raiden inquired, staring down at the defeated swordsman.

“I do not.” Kenshi replied, getting up from the ground on his own. A sorrowful and disappointed look appeared on his face. “Yours was a well earned victory.” The man admitted. Although you could sense the disappointment in his own ability lingering, you watched as Kenshi bowed respectfully to Raiden. Raiden returned the bow.

“You may rest.” Liu Kang spoke up. You watched as the god stood up, walking towards the victor. You walked past the monks, joining by his side. “This evening you will face your final opponent.” You both looked to the left, to Kung Lao.

A smug smile appeared on the man’s face. This was the fight you had been expecting. It made sense. The most naturally talented of your four against the hardest worker. Not only that, but they had been together since their origins. To you, it felt as if it were to be.

“Come, I’ll make you all dinner.” You told your students, looking around. You watched as they perked up, following you to the dining hall of the Wu Shi. As they followed you, you turned to give them all a bright smile. “I’m proud of all of you.” You told them, and you truly meant it.

Liu Kang watched as everyone dispersed, including the other monks. He was left in silence, observing the peaceful courtyard around him. He heard something, and turned around. A hint of surprise appeared on his face as he watched as Geras appeared before him.

“Geras.” He said, a hint of surprise in his voice at the sudden appearance.

“Lord Liu Kang.” The construct spoke, dipping his head respectfully. He looked at his creator, a serious look on his face. “I need to speak to you.” He said, a tone of urgency in his voice. “It’s about…” His voice dropped to a whisper, speaking your name.

For the first time in eons, Liu Kang’s blood ran cold.

“Lord Liu Kang, where have you been?”

You let out a sigh of relief as you spotted Liu Kang approaching the Wu Shi. You walked up to him, a furrow in your brow. Night had already settled in, and you had to arrange the fight yourself since the fire god had been absent. While you went out to look for him, you had put Kenshi in charge, much to Johnny’s distaste.

“I simply had to retrieve something.” Liu Kang told you, holding a small box. He handed it to you. “Give this to the victor.” He instructed you, and you nodded. You looked at Liu Kang a moment longer, a pit of worry in your stomach.

Why was he avoiding your gaze?

“Alright.” You said, pushing out the paranoid voice in your head. You shouldn’t linger on what was surely something insignificant. You looked down at the box, gripping it tightly. There was a tense moment between you two that passed before Liu Kang walked off, and you followed.

Masking your concern, you put on a neutral face as you both made your way to the courtyard. Kenshi and Johnny looked back, varying looks of relief on their faces as you both appeared. Kung Lao and Raiden, ever vigilant, remained in their sitting positions. You ignored the looks Kenshi and Johnny sent your way as you stood behind Liu Kang’s chair.

You were being paranoid.

“Proceed.” You instructed breaking the silence, after waiting for Liu Kang to fully settle in his seat. Wordlessly, Raiden and Kung Lao stood up. A smug smile was plastered on Kung Lao’s face, which contrasted Raiden’s determined look.

“Fifty bucks says Kung Lao wins.” Johnny Cage whispered, leaning behind you to bet with Kenshi.

“Make it interesting.” Kenshi replied. “Bet me Sento.”

“Hah!” Johnny let out a laugh. “Not on your life.” He declared. You found yourself smiling at their antics, lessening your tenseness. Johnny Cage proved to provide some relief from the stress that followed you once again.

“Raiden. Kung Lao.” Liu Kang addressed the two men, after standing up. He approached them, looking between them. “The winner of this match will represent Earthrealm against Outworld. It is a grave duty, not to be undertaken lightly.” He reminded them. “You may step back now, and suffer no dishonor.”

“I choose to fight, Lord Liu Kang.” Raiden declared first, stepping up. His determination did not waver as he stared at the god.

“As do I.” Kung Lao piped up. His voice held a cocky tone to it, as if he already knew the winner of the match.

“Then may the best person win.” Liu Kang declared. He bowed to both Raiden and Kung Lao, who both bowed respectfully in return. You shifted, gripping the box in your hands tighter. Anticipation grew as you wondered what exactly was in the box. Liu Kang returned to his seat.

“Concede Raiden.” Kung Lao goaded his fellow peer, after letting out a small confident laugh. His hand gestured to him. “You have never beaten me.” He reminded him, pointing at the other man who also hailed from Fengjian. “That won’t change today.”

“No?” Raiden replied. “If there’s one thing I learned…” You watched as Raiden glanced to you before returning his gaze to Kung Lao. “...the only constant in the universe is change.” The two, almost simultaneously got into their fighting positions.

The match was almost electric.

Kung Lao started off confident, strong, as he always did. Not deterred by Raiden’s words, he fought with precision and grace. Raiden, on the other hand, was more bold in this match than his last two. It was as if he were trying to match the confidence his friend had.

Blow for blow, the two fought as if it were an intense dance. The spirit the two had did not waver, even as they chipped each other’s defenses. You had to remind yourself to breathe at times, captivated by the way they fought. It was almost like a performance with how it all went down.

All things had to come to an end, and just when you expected Kung Lao to overtake his fellow farmhand, your jaw dropped as Raiden sent Kung Lao toppling to the ground.

He had finally won.

“There’s a first time for everything, Kung Lao.” Raiden remarked. He helped Kung Lao up, who although baffled, accepted the help. You sensed the confusion and disappointment within the loser of the match. The monks all stood up and Liu Kang approached the two. You passed by the monks who were now dispersing, moving to step beside the god.

“Although you have all trained well, Raiden has excelled.” Liu Kang declared. “This outcome does not surprise me.” The god looked between the two, before looking back at you. You held up the box you had been entrusted with.

“How could I have-” Kung Lao muttered to himself, his head bowed as he lingered over his loss. You felt a twinge of pity for the man. He lifted his head, meeting your gaze before looking towards Raiden. “Congratulations Raiden.” He said, bowing respectfully. The rare hint of humbleness shone through his voice.

“For the tournament, you will need this.” Liu Kang spoke, gesturing back to you. You lifted your hand, hesitating for a moment before you opened it. You froze as you saw the amulet within. An intricately carved amulet, the middle made of glass with a glowing dragon etched into it. It crackled with electricity.

Raiden lifted it up, inspecting it, but you were lost in your mind.

That was the amulet you remembered. The very same amulet that…

Looking up, you froze as you saw a vision of an older Raiden. glancing down at the amulet. It was cracked and nearly shattered. The thunder god’s eyes glowed as they stared down. A grievous look was on his face.

You were in a cathedral of sorts, yet the scene around you was anything but holy.

It smelt of death. In the distance, you saw the bodies of people you could only remember as allies, but in the state they were in, you could hardly recognize them. Guts were strewn about, blood was split. It all smelt eerily fresh, but you had no idea how they became that way.

Breath quickening, you glanced down. Tears instinctively filled your eyes as your hands grabbed at a person in your lap. Who was this? You hand moved to cup the cheek, wincing as you felt fresh blood coat your palm.

Her breath was shaky, and you couldn’t make out the words you were saying to her. Tears clouded your vision, dropping onto the face you couldn’t make out. Her hand grabbed yours, and you watched her lips move weakly.

What was she saying to you?

“Tell me Raiden, how will we honor their sacrifice!?” Liu Kang’s voice rang out, the only clear thing you could hear. It was angry, mocking, distressed. You looked up and around, trying to see where he was. Through your tears you could see him.

Liu Kang was mortal. Dressed in red and black, he did not have the grevious wounds and blood like the others did. He was clean and uninjured, much like you. You watched as he glared at Raiden who looked distraught. His intense glare looked over to you, and softened.

“Are you okay?”

Lightning crackled.

Flinching, you blinked, snapping out of your stupor. You sniffed, shaking your head. Your breath calmed as you looked around, remembering that you were here, in the Wu Shi academy. Not in a cathedral full of death and despair.

You avoided the concerned look Liu Kang sent your way, forcing a proud smile on your face. You watched as Raiden, with the amulet, continued to blast away at one of the four statues holding the middle arena up.

“Holy Ark of the Covenant!”

“It is incredible.” Raiden remarked, staring down at the amulet he held. You took in a deep breath, avoiding looking at the object in his hand, instead looking at the man himself. You swallowed, trying to nod encouragingly. “But is it necessary?”

“In addition to possessing great might, the Outworlders you will face also wield great magic.” Liu Kang stated, his eyes glancing towards you for a mere moment. “The amulet levels the playing field.” He told him. folding his hands together before returning his attention to you. You held your head up, trying to not show the weakness you had previously displayed.

“You must be careful, Raiden.” Kung Lao said, a concerned tone in his voice. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, looking at him. “You could get hurt. Even killed!” You tensed up, the words sending panic through you.

“No tournament participant has ever been greviously injured or killed.” Liu Kang informed him. Yet, at the same time part of his words seemed to be directed towards you. Was he trying to reassure you as well? You figured it was better he assumed you were worried over Raiden than what you were actually freaking out over. “I would never send my champions unwittingly into mortal kombat.”

The words he spoke, though meant to be comforting, felt like a jab after what you remembered.

“We leave in seven days for Outworld’s capital, Sun Do.” Liu Kang spoke, and you once again had to snap yourself out of your stupor. “The tournament will be held at the Palace of Empress Sindel.” He said, and then he dismissed the four.

You stood there, watching as the four dispersed, not knowing what to or what do say after the frightening memory you had regained.

“Are you okay?” Liu Kang inquired, standing next to you.

What should you do? Tell him the truth? Spill your heart out about the horror you witnessed, and the many worries you had about the memories you had? Tell him how you were confused and terrified why you had these memories?

You opened your mouth, swallowing nervously as you found it had become dry. You gripped the empty box, your mind bitterly reminding you of what had just lay inside. Your heart pounded, and you felt the urge to collapse.

“I was just worried for Raiden’s sake.” You lied, the words slipping out before you could think again. You watched as Liu Kang assessed your face, before he nodded. You couldn’t tell if he believed you or not, the glowing eyes he bore now much harder to read than the mortal ones.

“He will be fine, you have trained him well.” The fire god reassured you, a hand reaching out to touch your shoulder and to squeeze it comfortingly. You smiled at him, trying to ignore the pit of guilt and worry that built up in your stomach.

“I know.”

You didn’t know why you lied, nor why you felt like it was better that you did.

part eleven

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schrodinger-swriter · 3 months

Note

Could you do lute D E L V W🥺

D, E, L, V, and W for Lute

Another Lute post! I wasn't expecting her to be so liked! Not that this is a complaint, of course!

I think this might be the last writing for this batch, there's many people here in my house and I'm beginning to get a little overstimulated... my headphones are really coming in clutch currently...

Regardless, I hope you enjoy, Anon! C:

DATES:

This one is interesting! Lute doesn't... do dates.. As well as that she doesn't seem like the type to have dated much before meeting you. Actually, if anything you might be her first partner. Ever. Perhaps you might be able to convince Lute to go out for the night.. maybe get a meal. The idea of a butterfly garden sounds nice... Heaven seems like the kind of place to have some of those strewn about. Something calm and gentle as opposed to the harshness Lute has to deal with and present.

EMOTION:

Lute doesn't show much emotion. Sure, she has her moments where she can be caught up in the moment and become more intense than usual. A lot of that comes from her being this merciless killing machine made to wipe out sinners, to her that's her greatest duty. There isn't much room to be vulnerable, physically and emotionally. It's going to take a lot of time for her to even drop her colder more professional attitude around you.

LOVE LANGUAGE:

Acts of service, giving and receiving. Lute will show that she loves you through doing things for you, and she feels cared for when you do the same thing for you. She doesn't say that she loves you often, in fact she might've only said it a handful of times to you. Even less when stating she deeply enjoys something. Just know when she DOES say it, she means it with her whole being.

VALENTINE:

She doesn't celebrate Valentine's, but if it makes you happy she might make a stop to buy you some flowers. Naturally, she doesn't ask for anything in return. Any gifts sent her way will be received tensely, not because she doesn't like them. But because she doesn't know how to react.

WARRIOR:

If anything, she expects you to fight alongside her. If you're an exorcist, at least. When she isn't sticking close to Adam, she's going to be fighting by your side. As stated in another Lute alphabet post, she finds that you can defend yourself desirable and attractive. It also means she can risk turning her back for a second without thinking about you immediately being overwhelmed.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #lute imagine #lute x reader #lute x you

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huramuna · 6 months

Text

the calico bastard - chapter 3.

aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

art by me of alysanne • an edit by me of alysanne as a child • aesthetic board

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Alysanne didn’t get much sleep that night, not after what she’d seen— the future and the present.

She paced around her small room until the light trickled from the horizon. Aemond’s harrowing screams echoed in her ears, her chest heaving and falling.

There had only been one time before she had such a violent vision.

It was eight years before— Alysanne was only ten years of age, just an unloved bastard girl of Harrenhal.

Except, she had one who loved her. The only one.

“Pick me up, pick me up!” Alysanne cried gleefully, “Breakthbonthes, pick me up!” she held her arms up, her words whistling through the gap in her baby teeth— she’d yet to lose those last few teeth right at the front, causing an admittedly quite silly lisp.

Ser Harwin Strong— her brother, or half-brother as it may be, had returned to Harrenhal after a long time away.

Her father, too, had returned— but Alysanne could care less, they were indifferent to one another.

But Harwin— Harwin was hers, her brother, the only person to ever treat her like a person, like she wasn’t lesser.

She ran on bare feet out to the gates, jumping and waving her arms as she saw the procession arrive. The little girl would recognize the curly mop and mountainous build of her brother anywhere.

“Ah, my little lilac!” Harwin boomed from atop his horse, spurring the stallion into the gates, “By the Seven, Alysanne, you’ve grown.”

“The maesther says I’m too schmall for my age,” she grumbled, kicking up dirt.

“Ahh, and what does he know, anyhow?” Harwin grinned, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins to the stablehand. “The poor sod can hardly see past those caterpillars of eyebrows atop his head, eh?”

Alysanne giggled, putting her arms up once more, “Please pick me up— wanna be thall… t-tall,” she tried to correct, spitting a bit through her gapped teeth.

Harwin chuckled— it was a rich, soothing sound. His whole body seemed to erupt with the joy he brought as he laughed, like a deep and generous clap of thunder before the skies opened up.

Alysanne felt her heart rattle around in her chest at the noise.

“Let me get this heavy armor off, lilac,” he hummed, “C’mon, tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

Alysanne skipped and hopped alongside Harwin as they walked through the courtyard, where he left his armor at the smith to be polished. She babbled on about the books she read, the birds she saw, and any innocuous thing she could conjure up.

Each thing, no matter how small, boring, or insignificant it may be, Harwin would respond, whether in agreement, asking a question, anything at all— anything to make Alysanne feel special.

“Alright— c’mere, little lilac,” Harwin finally acquiesced, kneeling down slightly.

Alysanne squealed in delight as he ran into his arms— only to be met with darkness.

A cold, withering darkness. Usually, being encapsulated by Harwin was warm— warm and bright, like the sunniest summer day.

But she felt cold— cold like the North was, colder than anything she felt before, like after a flame had been extinguished.

Then, her vision went red— red, orange, yellow, crackling fire— warm, warm, too warm. Hot, hot— it was smoldering, she was screaming, feeling the skin melt from her bones and char into ash— and she wasn’t the only one screaming.

She heard the cries of men— two very familiar to her—

Harwin, Harwin— open the door, open the door, brother, please! She screamed and clawed at the door until it melted before her into glowing lava, sizzling at her feet— and behind it, Harwin— his hand on the knob, no, fused to the knob.

His hand wasn’t attached, snapped off like a charred piece of firewood, his body strewn across the floor. His face peeled from the muscle and sinew, popping and blistering against the heat. His mouth, now just a hole, was twisted into an everlasting scream—

And then she was back. Back to the warmth and brightness of Harwin’s arms. He was shaking her softly, jostling her shoulder as a small crowd was gathered.

“Alysanne,” he murmured frantically, “Alysanne, wake up, my girl.”

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears— they rolled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob came out.

“Shh, don’t speak, it's okay,” he cooed, turning her away from the prying eyes of the crowd, “I’ve got you.”

Ser Harwin Strong and his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, perished that same night in a fire— a supposed accident.

But Alysanne— she had known. She saw it, and had said nothing. She hears Harwin’s ghost muttering to her at times, his warm and gentle voice now saddened by ash and smoke.

She contemplated her life for days, months and years after— she had lost the only family she had— and she could’ve stopped it.

Since then, she relented from touching people or being touched. She never wanted to have that power— she didn’t want to see their deaths, hear their screams and have their ghosts linger in her head for the rest of her life.

Now, after seeing Aemond’s supposed death, she felt a responsibility to change it— not for herself, not for Aemond— but for Harwin. For what she could’ve done, should’ve done.

She wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she dressed for the day. She forwent the corset— damn the thing— and dressed in another kirtle, a paisley color.

Her hands moved deftly as she tied her curly hair up into two braids— nothing like Flora and Beth had done— but it did the job nonetheless.

The rest of the keep wasn’t awake yet— or so she had thought. She walked out in the courtyard barefoot, as usual, and found it odd as she heard another pair of feet crunching gravel near her.

Turning around, she came face to face with Aemond. He looked… exhausted.

His brow perked, “What are you doing up this early?” he asked as he kept walking, a nod of his head in indication that he wished for her to follow.

She let out a sniff, “I’m always awake,” she grumbled, “I need to tend to Banshee.” she trotted alongside Aemond, her short legs having to work double time to keep up with his long legged strides.

“‘Banshee’? I know that Harrenhal has its fair share of ghosts, but I haven’t heard the wail of a banshee yet— and even so, how does one tend to a Banshee?” he prodded, putting on a pair of leather gloves as they walked.

“… Banshee isn’t a ghost,” Alysanne said, a slight tinge of annoyance lacing her voice, “Banshee is my horse.”

They stopped at the stable, which now housed more horses than usual on account of the soldier’s occupation. Alysanne slunk to the last paddock, which was in truth, not in good shape. It had its fair share of bite marks and hoof prints.

Aemond watched as the strange little bastard lady stood on her tippy toes, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand over the top of the stall door.

A rumbling snort was heard before an absolutely monstrous horse head dipped over the door. It had a gray spotted snout and a neatly trimmed forelock and mane.

Alysanne hummed as she undid the lock and led out Banshee. He was a ginormous draught horse, built purely of muscle and power. He had a light gray coat with black dapples— as well as some long feathering near his hooves. He was easily taller than Aemond by a foot.

The gelding let out a snort as he looked at Aemond, then turned his focus back to Alysanne, nuzzling the top of her head, earning a small giggle from her.

Aemond Targaryen, rider of the largest dragon in the world, was slightly aghast at the size of this horse. He exhaled, “That has to be the biggest fucking horse I’ve ever seen,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between Alysanne and Banshee, “How do you even get on his back?”

Alysanne looked at Aemond, slightly bewildered, “You ride Vhagar— how do you get on her back?” she countered as she led Banshee out into the courtyard.

Aemond, fascinated by Alysanne and her monster horse, followed, “Well— a fair bit of climbing, and she has some rope rigging around her saddle.”

Alysanne pat Banshee on his neck— at least, as far as she could reach. “Well, think of Banshee as a small Vhagar,” she hummed, “It isn’t graceful, but a fair bit of climbing,” she mimicked his tone, “does the job.”

The prince was slightly amused by this. “Well then— go on,” he pressed, “Let’s see how the bastard fares getting atop her horse.”

Alysanne let out something of a growl or a grumble in annoyance, clicking her tongue after. Banshee lowered himself slightly, to a point where she could snag onto his mane and scramble up his neck, sliding down onto his back. It was hardly graceful, and was comparable to how a bat scrambles upon walls before taking flight.

“No saddle? Reins?” he questioned further.

Alysanne cocked her head, “No?” she snorted, as if it was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

The prince pinched his brow in what seemed to be frustration, “How silly of me— you don’t even wear shoes, of course you’d ride your beast without the proper tack.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything further. She murmured something to Banshee, who let out a whinny and began his walk— it was slow and bumpy, but Alysanne kept her composure.

“Be here when I return, girl,” Aemond said before they got out of earshot, “I’ll have need of you.”

Her brow furrowed. Need of her? For what? And where was he going?

Alysanne and Banshee’s leisurely walk turned into a relaxed trot as they exited the gates of Harrenhal. They were half a mile away from the ancient castle before a thunderous roar was heard, and the rising sun was eclipsed by the gargantuan green beast known as Vhagar.

Alysanne scratched Banshee as he got a bit fidgety as the dragon flew low in the sky, just above the treeline. “S’okay, my sweet boy,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck as far as she could reach, “You won’t die by a dragon— I’ve seen it.”

As Vhagar began to disappear from sight, something clicked in Alysanne’s head. The dragon was riding towards the God’s Eye— which meant Aemond was as well.

It… it felt like too soon— no, the battle couldn’t be today— but she had seen Harwin’s death just hours before it happened…

She spurred Banshee into a full on gallop, pressing low to his back to hold on, “Please, please,” she whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes.

As they approached the shore of the God’s Eye, she looked around, scanning the sky for any sign of the bloodwyrm— or even Vhagar.

She slid off of Banshee’s back, letting him graze as she walked the pebbled beach of the lake. She paced back and forth until it was high noon, the sun rising in the sky to its apex.

A few more hours passed until late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent back towards the earth. A temporary eclipse of Vhagar returning had Alysanne giving a small breath of relief— until the giant dragon turned, lowering down to find a spot to land.

Banshee strayed near the woodline, as far from the dragon as possible— Alysanne shared his unease, a deep pit settling in her gut.

She ground her teeth as she approached the landing dragon, the powerful flaps of her wings actually causing Alysanne to fall over— which apparently earned a laugh from Aemond— a laugh? When had she heard him actually laugh?

Watching as he gracefully slid from Vhagar’s saddle, not before unstrapping himself (earning Alysanne a breath), she got back to her feet, dusting off her dress.

“I thought I spotted that elephant horse of yours,” he called out, walking towards her.

She shrunk back, “What do you want?”

As he got closer, his expression became more visible. He seemed… lighter. More elated. His hair was swept back from the wind and his mouth was crinkled in a small grin— not that of a predator like usual, but like that of someone who was… joyous?

It was a difference of night and day— his pained anguish the night before, and his almost boyish demeanor now.

It confused Alysanne— she hadn’t accounted for this, such a strong change in emotion from him. It settled the pit in her stomach ever so slightly.

“What do I want?” he repeated with a questioning tone, “Nothing— I merely wished to see if your beast had bucked you off yet.” he stopped a few feet away from her, not getting too close. His arms were behind his back in their usual resting position. It seemed as if he was respecting her boundaries.

“Banshee wouldn’t— not to me, atleast,” she picked up a smooth stone from below her idly, rolling it around in her palm, “He’s a killer, you know.”

“A killer, hm?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “Stomped in a few men’s heads over the years— ones that tried to ride him, besides me.”

Aemond’s lip curled slightly, “Seems he’s bonded with you as his sole rider, then. Dragons are much the same. They get to choose who they bond with— test their mettle, and find them worthy.”

Alysanne looked towards him as they conversed— they began walking around the shore near each other and she hadn’t even noticed. He still kept his distance, to which she was grateful. “Vhagar finds you worthy,” she commented, “It must be an honor.”

Aemond picked up a rock as well, weighing it in his palm, “It is. It’s the highest honor of any Targaryen’s life— to be chosen by a dragon.”

She stopped at the lapping waves, dipping her feet in the water. With a swift movement of her hand, she sent the stone skidding across the surface. Once, twice, thrice.

A few moments later, Aemond did the same. Once, twice, thrice.

Alysanne gave a lopsided smile at that as she straightened back up. She felt at ease— like a leaf on a cooling breeze. Not only at ease, she felt brave.

Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the features of Aemond’s face before landing on his eye— which looked right back at her.

She felt a rattling in her chest— like a caged bird flapping and ricocheting against her bones. A strange heat came to her cheeks. “We make up one pair of violet eyes, you and I,” she murmured suddenly, “One lilac between each of us…” she stared at his remaining eye, to which he stared back at her one, paired with the rich, earthy brown of her other eye.

His brow furrowed momentarily, “An interesting observation,” he picked up another rock and skipped it across the waves, “You remind me of someone, you know. My sister— Helaena, her grace, the queen,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer note, “I feel like you two would have much to talk about.”

“I’ve heard she is fond of insects,” Alysanne answered, walking from the shore to the grass, where she began picking plants from the soil, seemingly with purpose, “I quite like a good moth myself. They liken themselves to have false eyes on their wings, so they do not have to stare down predators.”

Aemond didn’t comment— he just watched her pick plants.

“Herbs,” she said, as if feeling his questioning stare on her back, “For my medicines.”

“I didn’t know you were a maester as well as a bastard,” he said– more likely than not with a smug grin on his face.

“I may be odd in appearance, but you must be blind in both eyes if you think I resemble a smelly, mean old man.” she quipped back.

He didn’t say anything more, just setting his jaw in a hard line. This earned Alysanne a satisfied smile– the bird had silenced the dragon.

In her joyful reverie, she went to pick a bundle of chamomile– but her hand plunged into a bush of stinging nettle. She let out a yelp like an injured animal, pulling her hand back and looking over it.

Apparently, her yelp had caused some concern from Aemond, who rushed over– he broke the boundary they had set, and even more, he reached out to her hand. “Let me see,” he grumbled.

“No, no–,” her cry was cut off as they touched, and her vision went black once more.

It was storming. Thunder rumbled the ancient stronghold– but they were not in Harrenhal. She couldn’t quite fixate where they were, until she heard the tumultuous crashing of waves against chiseled stone. Storm’s End– the seat of power for House Baratheon.

Why was she here– why… Aemond was here as well. He was stanced as usual, his hands behind his back.

Another boy was there, as well– brown, shaggy hair and brown eyes. Harwin? He looked like Harwin– he was turning away from Aemond, walking out.

“Wait,” Aemond called out, “My lord Strong,”

Strong? There were no more Strong Lords– and not a young boy like this. Who… was he? When was this?

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne; at no cost?”

“I will not fight you– I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” the young boy spoke. Alysanne could see his body language– he was… afraid.

Aemond smirked, “A fight would be little challenge. No,” he said, putting his hand up to his eyepatch, taking off the leather and revealing his sapphire eye underneath, “I want you to put out your eye. It is payment for mine. One will serve,” the prince drew back his coat, throwing a dagger to the floor towards the boy, “I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

The boy shivered, falling into himself inwardly for just a moment– then he took a breath, puffing out his chest, “No.” he declared, staring Aemond down.

“So you are craven, as well as a traitor.” Aemond hummed for a moment, the sound of Lord Baratheon’s cries to stop drowned out from blood pumping in his ears– hers as well.

Alysanne felt his contempt, felt his rage– bubbling, boiling right under the surface, just like the Fourteen Flames of Valyria. The madness in him was palpable, threatening to break his bones and turn him into a beast hewn of scale and wrath and tear this ‘Lord Strong’ apart brick by brick.

She shivered; he truly was fire made flesh, an echo of a warrior long past– a god of War in his own right.

“Give me your eye! Or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond exploded, advancing on the little Lord Strong like a predator–

Then they were in the sky, Aemond chanting taunts atop Vhagar– words that Alysanne didn’t inherently understand, but she felt it– in her bones, rattling around her chest and stomach.

It was a chase– a game of cat and mouse– or dragon and dragon as it may be. But Alysanne knew it was nothing of fairness. What was fair in a dragon of War, named after the Goddess of War, chasing a hatchling just large enough to carry a young boy?

What was fair in that?

What was fair?

In her fairness, in her twisted justice– Vhagar’s massive jaws snapped the smaller dragon into pieces, along with Lord Strong, the remains of his existence scattered into the sea.

The rage of Aemond quelled– quelled into a dull ache. It was replaced by a new feeling, mayhaps one Aemond hadn’t felt before.

Guilt. Remorse.

Kinslayer. Accursed.

What had he done?

Her eyes opened– she wasn’t crying like usual, when she saw death. Usually it was impending death, something that perhaps she had a chance to change– but this… was the past, wasn’t it? Something she never could change, something that had already been lived and gone and was a done deal, sealed with the bow of death. She didn’t feel panicked, no– she felt hollow.

Aemond was holding her up again, cradling her like a delicate flower. He cleared his throat as he stared down at her. “What did you see?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

“Kinslayer.” she murmured in response, her voice broken.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the calico bastard

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year

Text

“Father” Based Words in Buddy Daddies

I figured a lot of Buddy Daddies fans might be interested in this video from Unseen Japan called “How the Japanese Words for Parents Lost Out to English.”

youtube

I also thought that this would be a great video to talk about how Kazuki, Rei, and other characters usage of words for “dad” and “father” in Buddy Daddies thus far (as of Episode 9, though, if there are any further interesting usages or things I feel could be added after the series ends, I will definitely include and update reblog on this!).

In Episode 3, when Rei asks Miri:

“What about your real father?” He uses the term 父上 (chichiue), which is far more formal than other terms that we see other characters use, such as Miss Anna. She refers to Kazuki and Rei either as お父さん (otousan) or パパ（達) (papa (tachi)), usually she uses Papa when talking about Kazuki or Rei directly to Miri:

(Miss Anna to Miri: “Are you happy to have two papas?”)

While using otousan when directing her speech at Kazuki and/or Rei :

(”Two fathers, you say?” - She uses お父さん - otousan here, which gets translated to “father,” just like Rei’s use of chichiue did, because they are more polite and formal ways to say “dad.” But, we’ll talk a bit more about this later).

We’ve never had Kazuki mention his mother and father separately, just in a more unit type of way (”parental abandonment” etc.). But, we see that he refers to the other mothers as ママ友 (mamatomo), which can be translated as “mom friends” or “other mothers/moms,” like in Episode 6:

(Kazuki: “Of course, the other mothers all say the same about their kids.” - Since he is talking more generally here, and not, for example, about his group of mom friends, it makes sense that the English translation went with “mothers,” instead of “moms”).

When talking about himself, he sometimes uses papa, specifically when talking to Miri about himself, like in this Episode 6 scene:

(The English subs use: “Anna-chan told me a little story,” while the Japanese itself has Kazuki saying “Papa heard something from Anna-chan” or something more so along those lines, that’s a bit unnatural sounding, and usually English speakers don’t refer to themselves as their parental role, unless it’s something like “As your father/mother/etc...”).

And, speaking of that phrase, in Episode 6 as well, when Kazuki states:

“As a father...” He uses chichiue. Like Rei did when talking about Miri’s father, which we’ll get to in a bit. I believe there is one time when Kazuki is referring to himself as well, and “dad” gets used, either in the sub or dub translation. I can’t remember the exact scene though. But,that fits with the point that, generally speaking, Kazuki is pretty informal with his speech. Like how he calls Kyutaro, Kyu-chan, as opposed to Rei, who calls him Kyutaro-san (more formal). Miri seems to be following after Kazuki in this way though.

This post is getting quite long as it is, so I’ll put the rest of this under a Read More:

Although, the teen Miri that Kazuki envisions, isn’t just informal in her speech, but also rude.

The subs have her calling Kazuki, “old fart,” which is an appropriate way to translate ジジイ (jijii), both a very informal and rude way to refer to one’s father.

Getting back to Kazuki though. He uses chichiue when talking about the idea of “father,” right. “As a father...,” but not for himself. Since chichiue is distant sounding. It’s colder and more formal (Draco Malfoy refers to his father as such in the Japanese version of the Harry Potter books, for example).

This then brings us back to Rei. He referred to Miri’s blood father as chichiue, and then he thinks:

“Father...” using chichiue and thinking of his own.

When he calls out to his father, he uses 父さん (tousan), which gets translated to “Dad!” It’s a very common way for older children, teens, and adult children to call their fathers, so that makes sense. Most children speaking English, at least in the states, switch from “Daddy” to “Dad” when they’ve reached the age Rei is here (probably near his preteens).

But Rei’s father replies back:

“Don’t call me, ‘Dad.’“ He uses 父 (chichi), which is more formal. Over on Hi Native, a Japanese individual did a break down on politeness levels for different father words:

Text:

お父様 - otousama - formal polite

父 - chichi - formal

お父さん - otousan - polite

父さん - tousan - less polite

親父 - oyaji - casual

パパ - papa - casual

His father requests that Rei uses “Boss,” a term not attached to fatherhood at all, and it is the word Rei does end up using:

(Rei: “Forgive my long absence, Boss.”)

As we can see here in Episode 8, when he calls his father, “Boss.”

But, of course, when it comes to himself, Rei is a Papa. He calls himself Miri’s Papa, responds to Papa, and has used it for Kazuki as well.

Rei’s own experiences with his father, his ideas and concepts of fatherhood, and his own relationship with politeness levels all played additional roles in his reluctance to referred to as “Rei Papa/Papa Rei” at first.

But, as you can see, Buddy Daddies has used a variety of different words for “father” over the course of the show, each with their own levels of politeness, tone, and warmth to them, and many of which are mentioned in the above video I embedded into this post. So definitely give that a watch if you haven’t yet!

#Buddy Daddies #BD #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #Miss Anna #Anna Hanyu #Shigeki Suwa #Japanese language #Japanese history #Japanese culture #long post #image heavy post #meta post #video

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months

Note

The Raifu’s of team Defy

Reacting to there S/O heroically sacrificing themselves for the sake of completing the mission

(GFL) AK-12, AN-94, AK-15, and RPK-16 react to their S/O sacrificing themselves

Thanks to rewatching the OG Mobile Suit Gundam there's a song stuck in my head as I write this.YES MY SWEET, YES MY SWEETEEEST, I WANNA GET BACK WHERE YOU WEEEEREEEE

12 remained still as she detected the life signs from S/O had stopped transmitting to her.

Her glowing pink eyes did not falter, her mask obscuring her mouth. On the outside, it looked like she didn't even react.

She turned to the rest of Task Force DEFY and simply gave a single order.

(AK-12) "S/O bought us time. We're leaving."

The moment the squad escapes the area, she takes off her mask as she closes her eyes.

Her emotional modules turn on once again, but her mouth remains completely neutral, her usual lackadaisy smile completely absent.

She says nothing the entire trip back to base. When she reports to the commander, she simply says:

(AK-12) "I hope the mission info S/O retrieved was worth it, Commander."

Not even bothering to salute, she leaves for DEFY's dorm.

If asked about S/O, 12 simply says they got unlucky in a monotone voice. However, she is usually seen visiting the memorial hall where S/O's name is written alone, her eyes opened.

94 closes her eyes when she could no longer detect S/O's life signature.

She believes it was her fault not being able to save them, seeing as she was the inferior model.

After the mission was reported a success, she looked even colder than usual, simply staring at the floor of the Black Hawk, saying absolutely nothing, even to AK-12.

When she is alone, she does not cry, but she quietly stares at S/O's quarters, her hand on the door.

(AN-94) "...If only I could have been designed better..."

She says absolutely nothing about S/O after their funeral. If anyone attempts to speak to her about them, she will excuse herself or not respond at all.

She seldom shows any interest in anything anymore, her only priority to follow the orders of AK-12 and ensure Task Force DEFY's success.

Just as her S/O would have done.

15 exhales through her nose and blankly states:

(AK-15) "...Zero readings from S/O. They're gone."

She never had a gentle expression, but somehow it grows impossibly colder and more rigid.

(AK-15) "Idiot..."

With no further comment, she departs with DEFY and enters sleep mode the moment they return.

She did not even attend their funeral, stating that it was a waste of time.

15 had not shown that much emotion until meeting S/O, where she was at least a little interested in learning more about humans and the world itself.

Now, she had zero reason in doing so. All of it was a waste of time after all, with human lives being so fragile.

But if one were to look near her bed, she still keeps the picture of her and S/O together close by.

16's expression became somber the moment she saw S/O's vitals flatline.

(RPK-16) "...Like a moth to a flame after all. Pity."

When 16 returns to base, she looks at the arctic skies, silently contemplating to herself.

(RPK-16) "Humans are interesting creatures, aren't they? They simply think everything will be fine once they give up everything for the good of the others. Yet they don't seem to think about what happens to said others."

She doesn't change all that much after S/O's death. After all, human lives were so much more fragile than a T-Doll's.

Yet it in a way, it was tragically beautiful. They have such a short life, and try to do everything they can in that timeframe.

That fact only convinces her that she should try to speak to every human she can.

But she will never forget the one human that captured her heart the most.

And just like a human would, she would continue to live and remember those that have fallen.

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline x reader #girls' frontline headcanons #ak 12 x reader #an 94 x reader #ak 15 x reader #rpk 16 x reader #ak 12 gfl #an 94 gfl #ak 15 gfl #rpk 16 gfl

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leonhardt-simp · 1 year

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Cold Office

[canonverse] | mini fic | fluff

moira x reader

summary: it’s just a rare moment with the ginger in her cold office.

author’s note: I hope I did her justice, she my main fr. I just think she’s neat okay? 😭

reblogs welcomed ! | requests : opened !

A cold morning and an even colder office room just made you feel chilly to the bone, even with a long sleeve shirt nothing seemed to relieve this freezing feeling.

It was a quiet work day, Moira was looking into more serums and different hypotheses and you simply came by in case she needed any assistance. That’s usually how your dynamic worked.

You were just an assistant, a worker who did the miscellaneous things for her so she didn’t have to.

If she needed more beakers? You could go get them. A spilled substance leaked onto the floor? You were usually the one to clean it.

Moira was thankful for you, finding your presence more comfortable than annoying, though she’ll never admit it verbally.

how could she?

Despite her having the most impressive emotionless face, her eyes were usually very expressive.

Sometimes you both would lock eyes at random moments throughout the day and hold the eye contact just for a bit before she would look away.

Moira didn’t wish to touch on that subject… Mostly because it was considered unprofessional. You were her assistant. She didn’t need you any closer.

Secretly though? She simply didn’t wish to acknowledge the little butterflies that would bother her.

You had something that made her interested, there wasn’t a doubt.

A little shaky exhale made her stop her typing abruptly, her eyes looking over to your freezing form. Her eyes observed as you rubbed your hands into your lap to create a little friction.

It was sorta… cute? Seeing you try to warm yourself. She should’ve remembered you likely weren’t used to her conditions in the office.

That was her fault, she could admit it.

While you tried to focus on typing a report, Moira would stand from her desk and walk to her coat rack, slipping a long coat she had left in the office a few nights prior.

You seemed to not even notice Moira walk to stand behind you and place her coat over your shoulders, slightly squeezing your shoulders.

You were surprised at the sudden weight, your eyes looking up at the slightly… bashful? scientist, who had preferred not to make direct eye contact.

“Ah, Thank you… Doctor…” You were met with a slight nod from the ginger.

“I wasn’t aware… Next time, please say something.” She advised, you weren’t aware that she was concerned about you.

“Apologies… I didn’t want to distract you.” You clarified, Moira shaking her head in disapproval.

“It’s not like I’m not distracted already…” Those hands that made you feel a lot warmer in this cold office had slowly slipped away as the Scientist moved to sit back into her chair.

You were sure what she meant by that, but when she looked over to you one last time, you felt your face heat up.

“Are you warmer now?” The way her head slightly titled to get a better look at you made you slightly smile at her mannerisms.

“Yes… Thank you, Doctor.” You noticed Moira hold back a slight amused smile as she nodded,

“Wouldn’t wish to mistreat my dearest assistant is all.” Moira concluded as she began to focus back in on her work.

She left you bashful? your hands slightly gripping into the warm material of the coat around your shoulders.

It was a pleasant feeling to know she cared just a little about you.

#moira x reader #moira overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines

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hanilessa · 1 year

Text

before reading please pay attention to the series masterlist, to make sure you have read the previous chapters!

your likes, reblogs and replies are greatly appreciated! i hope you like it, enjoy reading!

HALF AN HOUR FOR LOVE — Childe x F!Reader Chapter 4. Second fire

You slowly got off the bus, stepping on ground. Your muscles were terribly numb and sore, your legs barely kept you in a stable position. The sky shone with bright stars and the moon, accompanying your journey home.

It got colder outside, and you pulled your coat tighter around you. But this wasn't enough, and you felt how you gradually begin to freeze. Your cheeks were red from the cold.

You were so tired and angry. And right now you wanted nothing more than to go home and lie down in your bed. Oh yeah, another good idea was to hit damn ginger. Although it was a very tempting idea, at this moment you just wanted to sleep.

You walked down a quiet street to your house, dreaming only about how to take a shower and go to bed. Unfortunately, the memories return to the moments of your and Childe's date. And to the fact that at first you liked it. Exactly until the moment when he left you there alone without explaining his behavior.

You even thought that you could get to know him better at that moment. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about how happy he would be to introduce you to his siblings made your heart beat faster. You were quite surprised by this fact.

You didn't feel like this before. And it warmed your soul to some extent. But immediately after that, you think with displeasure that it was complete nonsense, and you just invent these stupid feelings.

Memories gives you moments of your and his joint fun against your will, but you think that this is due to the fact that you haven’t had a rest or fun for a long time. And not at all because Childe was interesting to you.

His tactless and rude manner brought you out of your calm state. As in the moment of your and his first meeting, so now. You desperately wanted to know what was going on in this man's head.

At first he is rude to you, the next moment he is cheerful, playful and gentle, then again he is rude and distant. His unpredictability annoyed you as much as the fact that you still think about it.

At the moment when you looked at his broad back, when he spoke to you in a cold and gloomy voice, it seemed to you that you were a little child being scolded by a parents. He really gave the impression of strictness and self confidence, didn't giving you a chance to stop him or even say a word.

So you looked helplessly after him as Tartaglia walked to his car. You thought you lost your voice, and you were unable to call him and demand an explanation.

You opened the door to your apartment and tossed your bag aside, leaning against the iron door in a relaxed manner.

The apartment met you with emptiness and silence. You smiled sadly and walked inside the apartment, heading to your bedroom. Right now, the last thing you want is to be here alone.

Usually, Yoimiya came at the office before everyone else, to prepare the office for the start of the work day and water the flowers after a long night. The girl loved plants and always tried to take care of it.

The door was always locked before she came in office, so the blonde reached into her bag to get her keys. But looking at the door, she noticed that today, to her surprise, the office door was open. The girl looked around excitedly, surprised by this fact. She entered the office and saw the owner of the company, who was pacing around boredly from side to side, as if he waiting for something.

Yoimiya, not at all expecting something like this, excitedly stumbled over the box that was on the floor next to the office entrance.

Hearing a sound from the side of the door, Tartaglia joyfully turned around, but when he saw the wrong girl he expected to see, his enthusiasm noticeably diminished. He tousled his ginger hair and, smiling casually, said:

"Good morning, you're Yoimiya, right?"

"Good morning, mister Tartaglia." The girl answered, still surprised by his presence here. "Yes, you're right, my name is Yoimiya."

The man nodded calmly and sat down in a big leather chair.

"I'm waiting here for someone. Pay no attention to me."

And now, Yoimiya was watching with a raised eyebrow as the ginger man spun around in their boss's chair, looking at the charts on the electronic board with a thoughtful expression on his face. To Ei and your boss' silent question when they came a few minutes later, the blonde just shrugged her shoulders.

The girl looked at clock — work time was about to start soon, but for some reason the man didn't plan to leave, continuing to sit imposingly in the black leather chair that your boss kindly gave him. Yoimiya understood that Childe was here because of you.

She remembered your stories about him, and some anger and irritation appeared in her chest when she remembered how he behaved towards you. The blonde wanted to protect you with all her might, so if he tries to somehow offend you or hurt you, she will definitely not be silent.

Meanwhile, you were in a slightly excited hurried to work. Everything has gone wrong for you since morning. You overslept the alarm clock, fell out of bed and hit your little finger painfully on a wooden closet.

Tired muscles reminded of itselves with heaviness in the body, so you, like a wounded doe, slowly walked towards the kitchen to cook yourself breakfast. To your utter dismay, the scrambled eggs burned and the coffee ran out of the coffee machine. You sighed in annoyance. It would seem that it couldn't be worse.

But you realized that you were disastrously wrong when you finally came at the office.

"Sorry, I'm late." You closed the door behind you, smiling awkwardly and apologizing for being late. After that, you finally lifted your eyes and immediately froze as if rooted to the spot, meeting your gaze with Childe, who immediately got up from his seat, pleased that you had finally came to the office.

You looked blankly at your friends and boss, and they just shrugged their shoulders. You sighed heavily and, ignoring the presence of Tartaglia, went to your workplace. The ginger man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Don't you want to say me something?"

"What do you think I should tell you?" You turned to the ginger man, ignoring the questioning looks of your friends. You didn't want to talk to him and understood that now isn't the right time to sort things out with him. "I think you made it clear to me that it's better for the two of us to no longer communicate when you didn't explain anything to me and left me at the amusement park alone."

You bit your cheek inside, realizing that in the future it will be difficult for you to avoid the questions of your friends, because right now they heard this conversation very well. The man sighed heavily, running his hand over his freckled face.

Yesterday you noted for yourself that it looked pretty cute. And immediately you scolded yourself. When this ginger man was next to you, you always thought about what you shouldn't think at all.

"Give me five minutes." Tartaglia said, looking pleadingly into your eyes with his deep blue eyes. "That's all I ask."

You looked uncertainly at your boss, who only nodded, realizing that it was better not to argue with the owner of the company. You took a deep breath and answered:

"Only five minutes."

You walked out of the office, not even waiting for the man's answer. Tartaglia, annoyed by your cold attitude, followed you without even saying goodbye to those who were in the office. Your friends could only stare in disbelief as you two left the office and the wooden door slammed shut.

You breathed in the fresh morning air and walked down the small alley that was on company property. Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Childe, who was walking beside you.

His ginger hair fluttered in the wind, chaotically falling over his eyes and getting in his way. It was funny and you would even laugh if you weren't mad at him. However, you had to get back to your work, so you casually hurried Tartaglia to finally start talking:

"If you continue to be silent, then I will leave."

The man just chuckled, throwing one hand behind his head and disheveling his hair. You thought you'd like to know how soft his hair was. Sometimes your thoughts really annoyed you.

"You're too harsh with me as always, baby."

"You got what you deserved." You said categorically, wrapping yourself in your coat. The middle of october made itself felt.

"Okay, listen, I'm really sorry." The ginger man sighed as he stopped, and you stopped too, looking at him. You raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"And why should I forgive you?" You asked.

If you thought that this man was unpredictable, then you were absolutely right. Because at this moment he looked like a puppy that was scolded by his master — and this image is completely different from his behavior that he showed you yesterday. He looked at you with puppy eyes and said timidly:

"Because we're friends?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, slightly flustered by this statement. It was a very unexpected statement on his part, but nonetheless, something in your heart melted.

"Then tell me, do people leave their friends alone in an unfamiliar place without any explanation?" You asked, holding out your hand to the yellowed leaves. The leaf felt very fragile and quickly crumbled to dust as soon as you touched it.

Childe took a deep breath.

"Listen, we had a good time together yesterday, but…" You looked at Tartaglia with interest. You wanted to know what he meant by his "but". "I had important things to do."

"You could have at least told me about it instead of leaving me alone without an explanation." You snorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

The man wanted to say something else, but stopped in mid sentence, realizing that it was useless to argue with you. But for himself, he noted that this is what he liked about you. You sighed, realizing that you needed to get back to your work, so you answered:

"Looks like you won't leave until I forgive you, right?" You raised an eyebrow and received a few quick nods. You thought about the fact that at such moments he looked just like a child. "Okay, it's good, I'm not angry at you."

You extended your little finger to him, and the man, surprised, but excitedly, extended his finger to you. You and he sealed the promise with a children's song, and this made Tartaglia's heart tremble with excitement. He did the same with his siblings. He thought it made the two of you closer to each other.

The man smirked contentedly and ruffled his ginger hair.

"It seems, princess, you didn't believe that I always get what I want."

You rolled your eyes. The old Childe is back.

"I'm going back to work." You turned away from the man and hurried back to the office. The man's hand on your wrist stopped you.

You looked at the ginger with a question in your eyes, not understanding why he still distracts you from work.

"Since we've made up, can you do me one little favor?"

You raised an eyebrow.

Tall trees quickly disappeared from your field of vision while the car was heading in a direction unknown to you. You shook your head. Once upon a time you thought that you would like to ride in this car at least once, but lately you have found yourself in this car too often next to its owner.

"And why did I agree to this?" You complained, sighing and resting your cheek with your right hand. "I could take a warm bath right now and read a book."

You heard a chuckle from Childe and looked at him with displeasure.

"Stop moping, princess. Try to find the good in it." He turned the steering wheel and the car turned its wheels too. From afar, you noticed a big white mansion that began to appear in your field of vision. "You work too hard. You need to get some rest. Don't you think so?"

"This isn't a rest that I enjoy."

"Hm?" Tartaglia smiled slyly and raised his eyebrow. "Then what type of rest do you usually enjoy?"

Your eye twitched. You suppressed the thought of hitting him because his double meaning jokes really annoyed you. You pointedly turned away from him and looked out the window. The ginger man only laughed, fixing his eyes on the road again.

As the car approached the big mansion, a stunning view opened up for you. Beautiful big marble fountains were placed throughout the mansion. They gurgled cold crystal clear water. Golden alleys led to the entrance to the house, where marble statues stood. You were, as if under hypnosis, when you looked around at all this beauty.

The car stopped in a big parking lot near the house, where several more expensive cars were placed. You shivered uncertainly in your seat, because meeting new people has always been some kind of test for you. But, looking at the relaxed man, you also relaxed and tried to put your thoughts in order.

He asked you to accompany him to his friend's party. At first you thought about the strangeness of his request to you, because he could simply invite any other girl or pick up a girl in a strip club. You voiced your assumption to him, to which Tartaglia laughed casually and told you that he was tired of women from the strip club.

He winked at you cheerfully and said that he enjoys your company and would like to apologize to you for all his previous actions, promising you that you two will have a good time. It briefly made your heart beat faster.

The two of you got out of the car and walked towards the big mansion. With undisguised delight, you looked around the small garden near the house and thought that you would also like to live in a similar place. To your surprise, no one met you and Tartaglia. The man opened the door as if he were the owner here and invited you to enter the house.

You looked around, noting to yourself that the interior of the house looked even better than its exterior. There were a lot of marble and gold things here — it was very striking. But that's where you're done with the positives. There were many people inside the building, they were drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes.

Cigarette smoke was everywhere, and loud music was playing in the house. You winced. Did Tartaglia really think you could have fun in a place like this?

While you were thinking about how to make your stay here comfortable, you didn't notice how a short man approached the two of you. His short purple hair framed his pale face, and his eyes shone only with coldness and indifference. He gave the ginger man an annoyed look.

"Won't you even greet me properly?" Childe asked mockingly, turning to a man you didn't know.

"After what you did at my house last time, you can't hope for it." The short man snorted, then turned his purple eyes on you. He looked at you inquisitively, and you felt a little uncomfortable.

"It's Y/n, my friend." Noticing his friend's gaze on you, the ginger man hurried to introduce you to the purple haired man. He eyed you skeptically from head to toe and casually said:

"I'm Scaramouche."

After the two of you exchanged dry greetings, Scaramouche turned around and walked deeper into the house. Tartaglia pushed you to follow the short man, greeting some people along the way. You thought that he must have been popular, because many of these people tried to talk to him a little more than they should, constantly getting in his way.

You saw how Childe smiled at them, but after a long time with him, you began to distinguish between his fake and sincere smiles. And now he was clearly annoyed, although he tried to seem friendly.

The ginger man suggested that you go get drinks while he was talking to people. According to him, it was always a long occupation, because other people simply didn't let him pass. You nodded in understanding and headed towards the big kitchen, where a big amount of alcohol and various snacks stood on a big table.

Luckily for you, there weren't many people in the kitchen, so you relaxed approached closer to the snack table and looked with rapture at all the food provided. You loved to eat delicious food, but you also tried to keep your figure and eat right.

But today the desire to eat well took over you, and you didn't dare to argue with your stomach. Noticing salmon sandwiches on a nearby table, you hurried to get around the table. A few seconds separated you from the cherished snack, and you were ready to grab it, but a sudden push to your side stopped you from your goal, and you slightly stumbled to the side.

There were only curses in your head, and you didn't understand why every meeting with any person began with something like this. You felt deja vu. But unlike the case with Tartaglia, to your surprise, you heard a flood of apologies from the person you encountered:

"I'm sorry." You heard a pleasant voice from the side. "Are you hurt, miss…?"

You looked up and saw a young man in front of you. He was slightly taller than you. His long blond hair was tied into a long braid that dangled behind his back. His golden eyes looked at you excitedly. He waiting for your answer. He looked a little confused and agitated, and it seemed to you that this was common to you and him in this situation.

"A-ah, I'm Y/n." You hurried to introduce yourself and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm fine. I'm sorry too."

"I'm Aether." The man smiled as he held out his hand to you, and you gladly held out your small hand. You were glad to meet a friendly person in this place.

"Didn't I hit you?" You bit your lower lip awkwardly.

"No, everything is okay." Aether smiled. "Are you alone here?"

"No, no, I came here with…" You thought displeasedly about the ginger man who had been staying somewhere for too long. You promised yourself that you would definitely remember this for him. "With my friend."

The man nodded in understanding and wanted to say something else, but he was interrupted by a loud cough from the side. You two turned to the source of the sound and you saw a ginger man in front of you. He looked like he was genuinely unhappy about something. You wanted to ask him what happened, until you noticed him looking at the place where your hand was connected to Aether's hand.

The ginger man squeezed a crystal glass in his hands. Tartaglia lifted his gaze to the two of you, and there was genuine irritation in his eyes. Aether didn't notice the tense situation at all and continued to hold your palm in his hand. And now you have found yourself between two fires.

— taglist: @httpmitsuya @gojoandelsalovechilde @duckyyyx @i-x4o @chishiyawifesworld @ajaxstar @kiryoutann

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

wallflower 33

Warnings: age gap, creepin’, slow burn, stepdad-adjacent, possible noncon/dubcon, abuse, violence, self-harm, manipulation, panic attack, dissociation, gaslighting.

Character: silverfox!Thor

Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her.

Note: <3 Another erratic drabble series. Appreciate any and all feedback. Love you all. And I didn’t expect this chapter to go this way or to be a bit longer than usual.

It's strange without Fenrir. Colder. You miss how he put his head in your lap when you felt uneasy, or how he would chase his tail, or wiggle around until you pet his stomach.

Stranger was being alone with Thor. That Thor was there almost constantly. Even when he works in his office, you feel his presence as he keeps his door open, emerging at an unusual noise or whim. He checks in on you often as you busy yourself with colouring books and paints. As if you can't be trusted.

Or maybe he's just worried. Your mother never cared much when you were in your funk, only if she needed a chore done. But he's different, right? He took you away from her. He doesn't expect you to do anything. He doesn't order you around like a slave. He lets you be you. Mostly.

Several days pass in the absence of the rambunctious grey hound. You mourn him quietly but don't ask. You don't want to upset Thor. Besides, your thigh is just healing from the scratch. You just don't understand how that happened. You never saw Fen be anything close to vicious.

As you sit in the living room with a pair of needles and yarn, you hear Thor pass through the entryway. Almost on cue, the doorbell rings and you look over from the first few rows of the dark blue scarf. You wanted to give it to Thor when you finished.

"Ah, there you are," Thor announces, "cold out?"

"Brother," Loki returns as you listen to the soft rustle of his entrance, "you know I enjoy the temperature, though I must admit I am tempted to see the vineyard again."

"First you must see your patient," Thor insists.

"Of course," Loki replies flatly, "where is the young woman?"

You gulp and try not to choke on your voice, "here."

Loki peers around the door frame and smirks as he sees you. Thor appears behind him as surprise ticks in his cheek. He must not have heard you come downstairs. You continue to weave the scarf, trying to hide your anxiety.

You still don't know what to tell Loki. He saw you at your worst and you don't even remember it. You wonder what he thinks of you now. Well, he's a doctor, he must see this all the time.

"There you are, darling," he strides in, "why don't we do our session here? I'd hate to make you clean this all up on my accord."

"Um..." you glance at Thor as he looms in the doorway.

"Brother, you can go in your office, allow us some privacy," Loki pulls over the armchair closer and sits, rubbing his pinkened nose. His brother says nothing as you meet his gaze. You can't tell if he's irritated or nervous.

"She can handle herself," Loki insists as he looks at his watch, "besides, I am a professional. More than capable, isn't that right, darling?"

"Er, sure," you look down at your knitting and clutch it in a ball.

"Alright," Thor drawls, "but I won't be far, kitten."

"Please," Loki dismisses him with a wave, his snakish eyes set on you. He waits until he hears his brother retreat, capped with the hard snap of his office door. "So, let us begin, you seem... placid. Tell me about your mood today."

You look at him and swallow. You smile and your cheeks shake. You lean over to set the yarn and needles on the end table. He slings one leg over the other as he props an elbow on the armrest casually.

"Good, I think," you wring your hands in your lap as you stare at the motion.

He hums, "let us start slow, what is bothering you?"

"Nothing," you murmur.

"Don't lie to me, I'm here to help you," he intones, "so tell me. It is me. My presence has disturbed you?"

You peek up under your lashes and shake your head, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Thor said... you were here when I was... bad. I'm sorry for that."

He takes a breath, his green eyes irritated as they wander above him. He returns his gaze to you and tuts as he smooths his collar, "do not be sorry for that. I did what I could to help but some things... just need time. And I see you've recovered. Somewhat. We must gauge whether there is still work to be done on that."

"Okay," you accept softly.

He watches you. You find it hard to read him. His green eyes are brilliant against his pale skin and his silvering black hair, his nose long and aquiline, his jawline chiseled finely with age. You never looked at him before, not really, it was always so dim in Thor's office.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He asks at last.

You furrow your brow in confusion, "anything I-- what would I tell you?"

"How is it here? Living with my brother?"

You bring your hand up to your mouth and nibble the cuff of your sleeve. He notices and your year your arm away. You cross them over your stomach to keep from doing it again.

"It's fine. It's... I have all this stuff to do now and he lets me. I get up and make breakfast and um, yeah, the days just kinda go by."

He nods and thoughtfully scratches his chin, "how do you sleep? Well?"

You scrunch your lips, "I think... I sleep very deeply. I think it's the medicine. I don't know. Ten hours at least."

"Oh, ten hours," he repeats evenly, "well, it sounds like you are well rested."

He stands and you try not to flinch. He nears and you steel yourself, nervous at his sudden proximity. He sits beside you on the couch, not quite against you but close.

"Would you like to stay?" He lowers his voice.

"What?" You flick your lashes.

"If you would like, if there is something you are uncertain of, I could find you somewhere to go. I know how environment can affect one's recovery and... I am mandated to make certain you are safe."

You shrug, "I don't... know. I... I... think it's fine."

He leans in and lightly touches your back, "darling, whatever you tell me is confidential. I will not speak a word of it to anyone else."

You can't look at him. He's too close. You feel buzzing beneath his fingertips, heat searing through your veins. His voice seeps into you, soothing you.

You ball your hands until your nails sink into your palms. You quiver and search for your breath.

What can you tell him? You don't know what's happened. You can't remember much of the last weeks. And Thor tells you nothing has gone on. So what do you say but…

"No," you lie.

He sit quietly. As if waiting for your to say more. You can't. You won't.

"Ahem," Thor clears his throat and both of you look in his direction, "I was going to offer tea or coffee."

His throat constricts around his words. A barely concealed agitation. But why? He brought his brother here.

"Sure," you accept, "I'll have some."

"As will I," Loki adds and drags his hand off your back, "black if you will."

#dark thor #thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #marvel #mcu #au #wallflower #silverfox #series #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble

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mara-xx217 · 1 year

Text

Dead by Daylight Commission: Party Shenanigans (Albert Wesker x Reader)

Commissioned by @homine I hope you enjoy~ Happy Holidays Everyone!

Warnings: Mild Drug Use, Possessiveness, Slight Force, Brat Taming, Rough In General, Smut

xxx

Well, this was a first. The Entity provided weird festive shit all the time, throughout the year. Or… was it through the year? Time was messed up in Her realms, but they went off like clockwork, so everyone, survivor and killer, used it as a means to tell time. A chill had set in the air- well, something colder than usual, that is- frost turned into snow and now all the tacky lights, snowmen and stupid party poppers had begun appearing all over the place. Winter was upon you and, more specifically, Christmas was close at hand.

You never cared for it. You didn’t dislike it or anything it was just… Ehh… Another holiday? More like just another day, really. Other survivors were buzzed about the holiday, the change in scenery, wondering if they would receive any gifts from each other or the Entity, and some thought something different was afoot. You just shrugged and shoved your hands in the pockets of your jacket in an attempt to stave off the cold from setting into your fingers.

To your surprise, there was something going on. Something very different that actually managed to peak your interest for once! A party? Here? Okay, okay, Entity… She has your attention, and she would maintain your presence now that you know, for a fact, there will be alcohol and weed there too! How do you know? Well…

You watch the shitshow that is this little get together from behind the cup of beer you were currently downing. You didn’t know what kind of beer it was, but it was like every single beer you’ve ever drank- not good, not bad, just alcohol which is fine by you. Some of the… others were here and man that pissed your friends off. Killers and survivors have never coexisted before and now wasn’t exactly a great time to start. Especially since there was alcohol and drugs present.

There was probably a rule against killing or something, you assume. Even killers that don’t know how to behave themselves aren’t engaging in mindless slaughter, though they definitely weren’t happy to do so. Laurie and Michael were having a staring contest, the Wraith was cloaked and bumping into people on purpose, the Trapper was angrily standing away from the crowd and huffing to himself, the Demogorgon was on a table eating food- It’s a mess but it was overall pretty entertaining. A tap on your shoulder nearly made you choke on your drink.

“Damn, Becky! Don’t do that! I thought you were that creep Ghostie or something!” A joke, mostly. If she was Ghostface, well… she would be covered in barely chilled beer. Rebecca laughed and tugged you along as she said “C’mon!”

Oh shit- There’s weed?! You wanted to know where it came from but then decided against asking. Don’t look a gift blunt in the mouth or whatever the saying was. Now this was a party! The Entity knew what She was doing. You could respect that. And you sure as shit could respect how perfectly Rebecca rolled your joint! Damn… you need to ask for some pointers… Any nervousness you felt about being here, in a crowd and around killers began to evaporate as the alcohol and weed started to kick it. Nicely buzzed, you don’t really notice the daggers being glared into you and Rebecca, who was sitting beside you on the ground.

You noticed that your friend became… uncomfortable. Her cues were subtle, but her usual, bubbly self became more quiet and she looked around more frequently. You asked her if she wanted to step outside with you and she agreed. Maybe she needed some fresh air?

It was cold but not to the extent it was too bad. You needed a jacket to be comfortable but that was how it usually was in the Entity’s realms. Snow was falling and overall it was dead quiet, save for the soft wind and the murmur of the crowd inside. The air was refreshing for you, but Rebecca seemed even more uncomfortable, somehow.

“Rebecca? What’s wrong? Is it not mixing well for you or-?” You wiped off the rail of the little patio… thingy before you rested your elbow on it. She shrugged and picked at her nails awkwardly.

“I-I think… I might go back in. F-For a bit! You, uh, can do whatever you want…” You quirked a brow but ended up shrugging. She was a big girl and she could do whatever she wanted. You asked again if she was okay but Rebecca flashed her trademark grin and waved off your concern.

“Yep! I’m f-fine! Just… come find me when you go back in, I guess.” And with that, she threw open the doors and quickly closed them behind her. O-kay…

The glass was frosted fogged, so you couldn’t see very well back inside. Was someone getting her attention? Rebecca was acting weird but then again… she is weird. You shrugged it off one last time, and went back to looking out over the railing. A whole lot of nothing… Fog, to be exact. You were all just stranded in the void. You already knew that but it was still weird to see it so plainly. Just as you were getting lost in thought, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you knew you were being watched.

Again…

Damn, who’s got such a hard on for you today?! Night- whatever! The Wraith? Possible… but Rebecca isn’t bothered by him. Doctor? Nah, same as the first- Wait- Maybe it’s Wesk-

“What do you think you’re doing with the likes of her?”

You aren’t proud to admit it, but he scared the shit out of you! You actually shouted in surprise as you jumped hard enough for you to lose your footing on the slightly slick ground beneath you. Even though you recognized the voice- you would any time, any day- it took you a moment to compose yourself enough to even think of a reply. All that came out was-

“Huh- Uh- Wha-?” Wesker scoffs and folds his arms as he leans his back against the doors inside. He’s blocking your escape. Greeaaat…

“Rebecca? Really? You would involve yourself with the likes of her?” His tone greatly annoyed you. ‘Likes of her’- Who the hell does he think he is?! Your dad? You roll your eyes and decide to not dignify him with a response. Bad move. He’s the type to hate being ignored. You knew this all too well, so you weren’t surprised when he stood, walked towards you and leaned down so he was nose-to-nose with you as he spoke.

“You are better than that.” You rolled your eyes.

This wasn’t the first time he’s shown a weird interest in you. You were pretty sure he had a crush on you. Like… Who goes around saying shit like that? He was a control freak that also refused to acknowledge whatever it was he was feeling, so Wesker opted to make you both miserable, instead. Which was a damn shame, since he wasn’t too hard on the eyes and you certainly had moments where you thought about him using those Uroboros tentacles of his in… other way…

Tch…

The corners of your mouth began to twitch upwards. Wesker frowned behind his sunglasses.

“What? You think I’m joking? Chambers is a no good-” It was too late. Annoyance turned into something weirdly giddy, and now you can’t help but to giggle to yourself. If Becky could see you now… Her old boss is reaming you out because she’s a bad influence… Like you weren’t the one getting her into trouble all the time! You burst out laughing when Wesker recoiled, looking genuinely taken aback and maybe even hurt that you weren’t taking him seriously. You only laugh harder when he starts to shake with anger, and when a familiar, sticky feeling wraps around your torso, your laugh morphs into something completely different.

“Y-You’re so f-fuckin- MHPH!” A strained moan was squeezed out of you as Wesker nearly picked you up off the ground with his Uroboros.

Well… that was unexpected. He didn’t let you go, nor did he immediately move to capitalize on the situation. He might have been just as surprised as you were… at least at first. Wesker, of course, quickly regained control of the situation and squeezed you a little tighter. Not enough to hurt, but more than enough to be uncomfortable. Unfortunately for him you were into that shit.

“You are an insufferable brat.” His voice was level but you could feel his Uroboros trembling and kneading against your skin.

“Always involving yourself with the lowest common denominator… How many times must I admonish you before you understand your actions have consequences?” There was a dark undertone to ‘consequences’ that made your skin crawl pleasantly.

Wesker clearly had something of an infatuation for you. Something twisted and possessive. He didn’t like to see you share yourself with anyone or anything other than him. You were wondering when he would finally show his hand and take you for his own. Really… you were wondering if you would be the one to make the first move! With Uroboros wrapped firmly around your torso, you knew you’d be getting more or less what you wanted from the very beginning.

You rub your thighs together and twist in his grasp as your knees collide with the ground. It kinda hurt, but you were quickly distracted by your hair being grabbed and the bridge of your nose was rubbed against his clothed erection. As much as you wanted to reach out and touch him, Wesker had pinned your arms to your sides with the slimy tendrils of Uroboros. Not that you could complain much. It was… well…

“I have grown impatient with you. I am so incredibly-” He emphasized the pause in his words with the buck of his hips against your face. “-frustrated with your antics and foolish games!” Your face heated up as he struggled with his belt.

“You will open your mouth- Now!” Wesker cut himself short. Looks like he can’t control himself any longer… You comply, of course, but you can’t help but to see how far over the edge you can push him.

His cock was pressed against your lips, but you didn’t immediately open your mouth. You parted your lips, but not your teeth. A swift yank to your hair and a growl accompanied by a squeeze to your ribs made you gasp enough for Wesker to shove more than half of his length into your mouth.

It’s been a while since you last sucked a dick… you’re more than a little rusty but Wesker seemed content with just fucking your mouth, himself. You choked a little when the tip of his member slammed into the back of your throat. Gagging didn’t really seem to bother him all that much. Good. You had the intention to be a tease but it would seem that he had decided to not give you the option to even try.

Damn… You really pissed him off. Every time he thrusts into your mouth, you gag. The wriggling mass that had enveloped your torso has thinned and spread up and down your body. Pressure was applied to your nipples, as was a familiar kneading motion that you had felt earlier. It inched its way down your abdomen and slipped past the waistband of both your pants and your underwear. Fuck… When you weren’t recoiling from having your gag reflex triggered, you peered behind him, towards the foggy glass door.

All it would take would be for someone to simply walk past that door or for them to hang out around it and you would be found in such a compromising position. It wasn’t like you wanted that to happen, of course! …but you couldn’t exactly lie and say it didn’t turn you on immensely. The Uroboros stopped just short of your pubic area, low enough to make you cringe and twitch but not low enough for you to really feel anything. And he said that you were the tease? What an asshole…

Wesker growls as your teeth grazes against his shaft. Your jaw burns and strains from being forced open so wide for so long. You know better than to try and pull away or to bite down. Not that you would do either on purpose. Or that Wesker would allow you to do either regardless of the reason behind it. Tears stream down your face and you gag as he grabs the back of your head and buries your nose into his pubic bone.

“I-If you even DARE t-to-!” He can’t even finish his sentence before he groans. His cock twitches in your mouth and your eyes roll skywards.

Oh FUCK it’s so deep-! FUCK- You squirm and kick as you choke on dick and your own saliva. Again, you’re barely able to take a single breath in before he’s pounding into your mouth again. In. Out. In. Out. In- You choke and it starts over again. It hit a point to where you could stand it. That or you were about to pass out. Either way, when he finally yanks you off his cock by your hair you cough and splutter, relieved to finally be able to breathe and close your mouth.

If you thought he would allow you to catch your breath, you thought wrong. What little breath you inhaled was quickly knocked out of you as the railing behind you collided with your mid-back. It hurt like hell but you didn’t have time to really concentrate on anything other than the cold blade that nicked your inner thigh. Wesker, while using Uroboros to hold you in place and off the ground, has unsheathed his knife and used it to cut a line through both your pants and your boxers. You hiss and flinched as you felt the sting of the topmost layer of your skin being sliced open.

Some blood was likely beading on the thin line that ran along the length of your inner thigh. You weren’t able to move much, given the Uroboros held you at an awkward angle. You blushed and whimpered a little as a gloved hand grabbed the inside of the tear in your clothing and tore the crotch of your pants and underwear open wide. J-Jesus CHRIST-! Your body trembled and you clench at nothing as he likely stares at how aroused you already were.

Oh, you were wet. You could feel the cold in the air clinging to you, as you could feel the slickness against the very gloved hand that tore your pants open as it rubbed up and down the length of your sex. Oh God- Oh FUCK- Two fingers in with no build up. It’s been- It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, you’re so wet it doesn’t even matter. And you guess that Wesker has become totally impatient, since just as you were starting to moan and roll your hips against his fingers, he pulled them away. Before you could whine in protest, you heard the clanking of his belt and the unzipping of his pants.

“You’ll take me rather nicely now, won’t you?” Oh… fuck yes you will… You can’t vocalize it exactly, but you moan as you feel him press and rub the head of his member against your entrance.

You’re thankful he didn’t make you beg or wait for it too much, since you couldn’t really do either. You squeaked and kicked your legs out when he pushed into you, not stopping until his hips were flush with yours. Fuck… it was uncomfortable to have it in all at once but damn if you didn’t moan and whine when he started to pull out.

Wesker had in mind to make you beg for him, but seeing as you were already so ready for him, how could he resist immediately taking advantage of the situation. Going slow? Out of the question. He didn’t wait for you to adjust before he grabbed your hips and started fucking you and damn if you didn’t take him in perfectly…

You had been such a fucking tease… Since the first time he saw you in a trial, you were a brat among brats. A pain in the ass that always caught his attention and distracted him from his work and other priority targets. You wanted his attention? You got it. And you even had the audacity to ignore him after acquiring it! If you think you were just going to walk away from him after all that you have another thing coming!

Literally…

Wesker’s earlier attempts to belittle you and humiliate you swiftly turned into praises of how fucking good you felt around him. How tightly you squeezed him, how warm you were, how wet and soft you were and how damn good you took him inside of you… It made your toes curl every time his hips snapped against yours.

Things were stretched and rubbed inside of you that you had nearly forgotten existed in the first place. Between his pace, the Uroboros still massaging your chest and the quite real possibility that someone would actually find you being fucked by a killer- FUCK! You didn’t try to stop yourself from crying out or squeezing down onto him. It felt too good! And even if you were caught-

Eh… okay, maybe it would be better to not think about that right now.

It wasn’t like you could really think with how hard he was fucking you. Your cries of pleasure were quite literally being knocked out of you. The tension inside of your core was on the precipice of snapping at any moment, all you needed was a little push-

“NGHH-!”

Wesker throbbed inside of you as he pulled you down further onto his cock. Hot, wet warmth gushed inside of you and it was exactly what you needed to be pushed over the edge into your own climax. You were so fucking buzzed it wasn’t even funny. Someone could walk out right then and there and you wouldn’t give a single fuck. You clench around him and Wesker was posed to start again when he suddenly says.

“Do you mind, Chambers?” You furrow your brows. Wha-?

A door hastily closes. Loudly. Your face heats up.

“Oh shi-”

That’s a problem for future you to deal with.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#dead by daylight #dbd #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #rebecca chambers #paid commission #tw drug use #smut #happy holidays!

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