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rosequarzo · 10 days

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Hii, I saw your post saying you want requests for Aventurine, but your pinned says you don't accept requests atm.. I'm just gonna send this one in and if you don't want it you can ignore it ofc :33

Scenario with Aventurine where he (or someone else) handcuffs him to the reader so they have to stay close for a few days but the reader (lightheartedly) hates every second of it?

chained to love.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral friends to lovers aventurine being a piece of shit (lovingly) im ignoring the penacony quest for tis ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 1293 — catalogue

“This has to be the worst day of my life,” you deadpanned, staring or more like glaring at the offending item; a pair of handcuffs.

It just so happens that Aventurine and you were sent on a mission to collect debt from someone in Penacony. One thing led to another and both of you got into some trouble, only to end up with a handcuff wrapped around your wrists. Speaking of the infamous gambler, he merely lets out a heartful laugh and pats you on your back, ignoring the scowl of disdain thrown his way. He was unfazed with his situation, which makes you wonder if he had foreseen this beforehand.

“Now don’t say that! With me by your side, I’m sure your life will be much more interesting!” He chirps.

You merely let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a headache coming your way.

“(Name).”

Silence.

“(Name), wake up,” Aventurine’s soft voice woke you up from your much-needed beauty sleep.

Groaning, you reluctantly opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was his face unusually close to yours. Heck, you could even count the number of eyelashes due to your proximity. The sudden closeness was enough to fully wake you up. You jumped, only to end up roughly knocking your forehead against his. Both of you yelped in pain, clutching your heads and Aventurine lightly chuckled as he rubbed the now sore spot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up but I need to use the toilet so…” His voice trailed off, hoping you could read between the lines.

Your eyes widened comically. “No.”

“Well, it’s not like you have a say in this so, let’s go!” He laughed, easily dragging you off the bed and what happens afterwards is something you will take to your grave.

You were so used to doing everything alone with peace and quiet engulfed around you that having Aventurine lending you a helping hand was something you couldn’t get used to. What would have taken you many hours to complete certain tasks resulting in you finishing them within the span of an hour or so. Initially, you were surprised with the amount of knowledge the man possesses but then again, there was a reason why he was handpicked by Diamond; due to his charismatic personality and the way he handles matters.

“Hello? Earth to (Name)? Are you still there?”

You blinked, returning to reality when Aventurine waved his gloved hand in front of your face. One quick sweep around your surroundings indicates that you were in your office, with your desk filled with nonstop towering piles of papers that required your attention. Sighing, you leaned back in your seat and used your free hand to rub the space between your eyes.

“I’m done, there’s no way I can finish all these,” you complained, tiredly gesturing at the papers standing before you.

You were oblivious to how his features softened when he heard your complaint. Your body froze when you felt his hand gently caressing your head and you didn’t dare to look up, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“It’s fine, I’ll help you out. Trust me, we can finish them by today,” he murmurs, sounding extremely confident in his words.

The next few hours passed in a blink of an eye and true enough, you had completed your dreadful paperwork. Thrilled, you didn’t think twice and gave Aventurine a bone-crushing hug, letting out a relief laugh as you did so.

“Thank you so much! Now I can finally take a break!” You exclaimed, unaware of how he went stiff in your grip and how his ears flushed red.

When he was there to help you with your workload, you would have to repay the favor by being dragged to attend events with him. Both of you managed to conceal the handcuffs from the public’s view by wearing long sleeves, not wanting baseless rumors to spread. Due to how close you stuck to him, people mistook you as his plus one. And you hated how you didn’t mind the thought of it.

“...is this person? I’ve never seen them before.”

You parted your lips, ready to introduce yourself but Aventurine was faster. He smoothly slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until you were snugly pressed against his side. His sudden action elicited a startled look from you but he ignored you, choosing to focus on the stranger and gave them his signature charismatic smile.

“This is my lover; (Name) and we’ve recently got together,” he lied through his teeth. If it weren’t for how long you had known him, your cover would have been exposed on the spot.

“Oh, that’s great news! Wishing the both of you luck on your relationship and hopefully we’ll be receiving a wedding invitation soon!” They teased, earning laughter from all of you.

Once the event was over and you retreated to the privacy of your room, you turned to face him. “Aventurine, what was that for? Why did you tell them that I’m your partner?”

“Hm? Does it matter that much to you?” He hums, struggling to remove his coat and you end up helping him out, gently tugging down the other end with your free hand.

“...What if I say yes? What would you do?” You muttered under your breath but your voice was audible enough for him to pick up.

“I would be pleased, because that’s what I was hoping you would say,” he fully turns to face you, giving you a small but genuine smile.

Both of you held eye contact but you were the first one to break it, feeling shy out of a sudden. Aventurine chuckles, reaching out to cup your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him once again. It was then you realized he had long removed his glasses, revealing his eyes to you. You had always found his eyes mesmerizing, longing for the times when you could stare at them forever.

Your gaze, filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability, locked with Aventurine's intense stare. You could feel the heat of his gaze, a tangible force that drew you closer with each passing heartbeat. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own yearning; a shared longing that resonated deep within your soul.

Aventurine's expression softened, a rare vulnerability shining through the mask he often wore. In the depths of his gaze, you glimpsed a depth of emotion you had never seen before; a raw, unfiltered longing that mirrored your own. With a subtle shift in your positions, you leaned in closer, drawn inexorably towards each other as if by some invisible force. The air between you crackled with tension, thick with the promise of what was to come.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, their lips finally met in a tender, passionate kiss. The kiss was sweet and short; similar to a promise for a long and fulfilling future with one another. You rested your foreheads against one another and you were the first to break the silence.

“So, does this mean we really are lovers now?” You murmured.

“I guess to,” his eyes twinkled in evident happiness at how you returned his feelings.

Clink!

You glanced down, surprised to see the handcuff now on the floor. Your eyes averted back to Aventurine, only to see him holding a key in his hand. It didn’t take you long to pierce the dots together and you shot him a glare.

“Seriously? You had the key on you the entire time and you chose not to use it!?”

“Haha! I wanted to see you suffer- wait, darling, what are you doing?”

“I’m giving you three seconds to run.”

#୨୧ magazine articles #honkai star rail #star rail imagines #star rail x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff

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fleet-of-fiction · 3 months

Text

Jake Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.

Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

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ssahopelessly · 4 months

Text

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

Tell me what you think here.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #oneshot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #mentioningmargins #christmas #holiday #secret santa #gift exchange #ssahopelessly #fem reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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calx-bdo · 6 months

Text

“THERE WILL COME SOFT RAIN.”

` neuvilette x g/n reader

` 4.2 archon quest SPOILERS

` warnings : none

` 549 words (iirc)

to return to a sobbing, shaking figure was not on your to-do list today.

it was a long day, reports after reports and piles of paperwork filled every inch of your desk. working at the palais mermonia, overtime was practically part of your job anyways. it's just, the rising of fontaine's waters, the mass destruction, the sudden death sentence, and the defection of the hydro archon was most definitely not what you were prepared for at your internship.

of course, it was worrying. you understood your husband to be a sensitive one, and you don't blame him for it. it's not a flaw, and it will never be one. it just means that you would get to reverse his own "motherly energy" towards you back to him. it's fun, in all honesty. caring for the iudex of fontaine is enjoyable.

except for the fact that you weren't expecting to see him, full-blown tears streaming down his face as he stares at the ceiling, like it's the last thing he'll ever ponder, like it has to hold for all the blame in the world.

this was concerning. extremely concerning. what the hell? neuvilette doesn't, ever, ever cry. it was a new experience for you. both of you.

apparently, neuvilette thought this too.

"oh, um. i apologise. you weren't... supposed to see me like this."

his deft hands reached for the nearby tissue box, and quickly fished one out and dabbed his eyes. you immediately set your stuff down to go to his sides, your stable hands hugging his shaking shoulders. tightly holding him in your grasp, like he is the most fragile and precious thing in the world.

he is, to you. there is nothing more precious than monsieur neuvilette. fontaine's treasure, but yours to hold.

your slow, comforting rubs along his forearms, along with squeezes of his arms help to coax what has happened out of him. it did not take much, after all. all it took was ─

"neuvi, would you like to tell me what happened, darling?"

and the story came tumbling out of neuvilette's rambling mouth. with every word he spoke, with every chapter he closed, you grew especially more and more concerned. your kind, sweet, beautiful lover has had to go through all of that? he is the nation's reigning soveriegn, and above all, a literal hydro dragon, but in your eyes, he's still.. neuvilette. your neuvilette. and it's unfair why he has to go through all of it. witness focalors death. witness navia's near-death. and above all, he probably also envisioned you dissolving in the primordial seawater, too.

your poor, poor neuvilette.

and it hurts, that all you can do it sit by the sidelines and watch neuvilette push himself through this. it's painful. it hurts.

and all you can do now is give him a tight hug. the tightest one yet.

neuvilette is surprised. you were not one to initiate physical contact. the hug was unexpected, especially from you.

but from that hug, he felt warmth. human warmth. the very same warmth and closure he's been seeking for five centuries, you give it to him in surplus.

he let himself go.

the rain heavily pattered on the window. a small light illuminated a couple in a tight hug, the raindrops framing their shuddering posture.

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v3x-y0urs3lf · 2 months

Text

My riparian woodworks headcanons as someone who has literally never worked a day in his life ✌️

Gage and ‘Newbie’ weren’t always troublemakers or anything. I think it’s just a general thing that with time people get more comfortable joking around with each other.

I think for Gage he probably saw Law and Desmond being natural childhood friends and playing into a bit of tomfoolery, saw that his boss did in fact have a funny bone and started to seep into his natural ‘annoying’ personality.

Okay. I may or may not be drunk but I swear I remembered Newbie and Gage calling Desmond daddy.. and if Desmond’s daddy then Law is uncle. Neo’s that one cousin you only see during important holidays like Christmas and Birthday’s and half the time you don’t even realise he’s there, Gage is either the drunk uncle or he’s the annoying more cousin.

Someone has called Law ‘Dad’. Whether it was accidental, on purpose, completely serious or joking. Someone has called him dad.. I haven’t watched enough Law vids to give him a reaction.

There isn’t a ‘favourite child’ or anything (don’t think there would be mainly because they’re all adults.) but Neo seems like a goody two-shoes.. Which isn’t true but I feel like he is trying very hard to be on a ‘path of redemption’. (For those who know - I’m thinking Quest from BloomingPanic and Deuce Spade from Twst)

I wanted to include Nat somewhere in here, I don’t think Law’s been in that desperate of a position where he needed to bring her into work. If he genuinely didn’t have anyone to watch her then I feel like Desmond would just give him the day off.. That’s not to say that he hasn’t brought Nat in when he’s off shift though. I totally think that if none of them have seen pictures of Nat, they’ve met her.

And on the VERY off chance that Nat DID accompany Law during a work day, then Law is in the office doing paperwork or Neo (Desmond?) are watching her in the back. There is no way anyone is letting her wander into the back with all the actual woodworking stuff.

I wanted to mention 4/5 of them being Attuned but I don’t think anyone would necessarily tease Gage just for that.. I just think it’s a neat fact and makes me smile.

Oh but Imagine just how lucky it is that all of them are for at least all of them knowing about the attuned. I briefly brought it up earlier but they’re all adults, I don’t think they’d have any magical ‘accidents’ like Nat or Robin(?) and I’m not even sure if they all know that they’re all aware of the attuned.

Obviously from Gage’s audio about ‘coming out’ and Neo’s audio about being sick they are aware of

1. Neo is a shifter (Gage)

2. Desmond is a shifter (Neo)

And there’s obviously Desmond who more than likely knows that Law is attuned (and Vice Versa for Law.) AND there’s Desmond’s audio where it mentions that HE knows that Newbie is also attuned. (I’m like 60% sure he mentions that Law is a sorcerer to Newbie so.. maybe throw Newbie into that pile too.) So at least one person from the shop knows that SOMEONE know’s that they are attuned.

That was a whole rant but essentially…

#not my character #reverie audios #reverie law #reverie desmond #reverie neo #reverie gage

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hasumilvr · 2 years

Note

oh new enstars blog, hello!!! 💕

i’m not sure if there’s a character limit but is it okay if i request for headcanons as to how each member in knights would comfort their gn!reader who comes back home from a stressful and long day? (stressful enough to make them more sensitive than usual and probably cry?)

i’m a bit nervous since i don’t usually request for scenarios like this 😭 good luck with your blog!

⠀☆⠀𓈒⠀Knights - Them comforting you.⠀⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🌷 ⠀

Nonnie!! Nonnie nonnie you’re my first request hi (ヽ´ω`) Thank you for requesting ,, um!! I love knights so much they are so precious... The context might be a bit self indulgent ! Hope you still enjoy it regardless ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )

Tsukasa S.

｡˚ The poor kid is deeply concerned. What happened to you, his lovely s/o that usually radiates warm happiness like sunlight, now curling up at the corner of your shared bedroom, eyes watery and about to breakdown the moment you came home? It breaks his heart to see you like this, and he desperately wants to help you.

｡˚ That said, he would do anything to see his dear escort smile again. A sweet caramel drop was placed in the center of your palm, as a very worried Tsukasa Suou, brows tightly furrowed, gazed into your eyes.

｡˚ The silence in the air did not build tension, instead it helped you take your mind off things because your lovely knight was in front of you, giving you his undivided attention. It was a moment later that you shifted to the side, inviting Tsukasa to join you. He kneeled down next to you, and his slim and tender fingers ran through your hair, then soothed your back.

｡˚ ‘D-did the candy make you feel better? Sweets always light up a tiring day.’ He smiled at you, seemingly wanting to distract you from your horrible day. How did he know what you were thinking? How did he know that you just wanted solace instead of questions thrown at you? How did he know that all you desired was to hear his soothing voice, and gentle physical affection?

｡˚ He offers to stay with you the entire night, ignoring the large piled of paperwork stacked on the desk. You were his first priority afterall, and he couldn’t bear to see you shed a single tear, so all he can do is to stay with you, and to reassure you tomorrow will be better in the comforting silence. Handholding and soft, slow kisses included.

Leo T.

｡˚ He tunes down his voice once he sees your puffy red eyes. Uchuus can be saved for another day, he's on the quest to make you feel better!

｡˚ Leo leads you to the sofa and sits down with you. He takes your hand and harrasses it in his, a frown appearing on his cheerful face. It hurts seeing you like this. He knows how it feels, because he's been through it before - the feeling of guilt building up on his heart, and spilling until it hurts so much he can't help but cry. And seeing you go through that? Hurts ten times more than him experiencing it himself. Leo wants you to know he's there for you no matter what, even if it's the silliest thing that made your day go downhill, he still wants to comfort you, and make the throbbing pain in your heart go away.

｡˚ Sings and hums short and bubbly tunes next to your ear as you lay down and get comfortable! He wants to help you take your mind off things, and what better way to do it than with music? His voice cheers you up, like that of an elegant angel's.

｡˚ Leo would be quiter than usual. He knows being too loud might overwhelm you, especially after such a horrible day. He presses and trails kisses from your cheeks to your neck, and pulls you into the warmest hug ever. It makes you sleepy, but ending such a horrible day with cosy hugs and soft, tender kisses was more than you could ask for.

Izumi S.

｡˚ Izumi... isn't very good with words, especially words of affection and appreciation, perhaps that's why he finds himself so lost at what to say when you come home and began sobbing on his shoulder.

｡˚ So just for tonight, he supposes, he allows you to confide in him, and takes off the stoic and naggy font he usually wears.

｡˚ Wraps his arms around your waste to make you feel better. His arms are strong, slender, and most importantly, they make you feel safe. The smell of the shampoo at home reminds you that you're safe here, you're safe with him. A tear threatens to fall from all the horrible incidents today, and he dries the trail of tears as it rolls down your cheeks with his finger.

｡˚ 'Soo~ annoying... Just let me know next time if something goes wrong... It's not like I'm annoyed with your problems. In fact, I'll be more than glad to slow down and solve them with you, darling.'

｡˚ Makes you a warm bath and brews you a cup of tea to help you freshen up. He returns to notify you that the bath is ready with a quick peck on the forehead. 'We'll talk about it later, alright? Go take a bath first, I'll be waiting for you outside.'

Ritsu S.

｡˚ The vampire boy fully wakes up at the mere sight of your tired figure at the door. Quickly realizing this wasn't really something that a light joke or kiss could fix once you refused to tell him what was wrong, he linked his hands with yours and lead you in front of the piano.

｡˚ As you watched his fingers dance across the black and white keys, you looked at your reflections on the piano - the frown on his face did not look good on him at all. Was he perhaps that worried about you? A slow piece was played, the quiet and soothing melody replacing the disturbing voices in your head.

｡˚ He looks up back to you, and pats your head as he ruffles your hair. Light and gentle physical touches from your love, just what you needed after today. Was Ritsu a mind reader? How did he know what you dreaded?

｡˚ The usual mischevious grin returns and replaces the hurtful expression planted on his face, 'Y/n-chan, I haven't seen you for the entiii~re day... I missed you a lot. You owe me cuddles and naps.' Oh and there was the pout that you could never resist. You rolled your eyes, and it was mere minutes later that you got changed, and was under the warm and comforting covers with your boyfriend.

｡˚ No words were exchanged, but you knew the invitation to napping was a part of Ritsu's plans to make you feel better. He has his ways to show you that he cares without overstepping on your boundaries, and that's a part of him that you oh so love.

Arashi N.

｡˚ 'I wanna make you so happy' were not just lyrics. Arashi meant it from the bottom of her heart - she wanted her jewel stone to smile and shine for her. It's a lovely maiden's job to cheer their darling up when they had a bad day, yes?

｡˚ Initiates a lot of hugs and kisses! She knows and understands how horrible you feels, and seeing you sigh breaks her heart into pieces. Maybe hugs won't solve the problem on hand, but at least they make you feel safe and calm.

｡˚ Invites you to join her skin care session! She gently rubs on those heavy eye bags of yours. She massages your cheeks as you slowly relax, the pace of your breathing slowing down and matching hers.

｡˚ Like Tsukasa, Arashi would also treat you to sugary pastries. As you take a bite from the donut she bought just for you, your shoulders fall and relax from the tense day, and the adorable sight brings a smile to her face.

｡˚ Would help you slowly open up. She doesn't force you to talk about all the work your collegue forced on you, but the energy Arashi radiates... She's a very good listener apart from a good advice giver, so if you decide to let her in the story of your unpleasant day at work, she would patiently listen and stroke your hand slowly, her violet eyes shining like gemstones as they give you the most loving and warm gaze, reassuring you it will all be okay at the end...

Also woooooo!! um using the taglist from my old blog please let me know if you do not wish to be tagged anymore <3 @yumetokashite @s0ckboy @harucafelatte @lilikags

#(viv.writes)#ensemble stars #enstars x reader #enstars knights #tsukasa suou #leo tsukinaga #ritsu sakuma #izumi sena #arashi narukami #tsukasa suou x reader #leo tsukinaga x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader #izumi sena x reader #arashi narukami x reader #knights x reader #(from.anon💌)

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dragons-bones · 8 months

Text

FFXIV Write Entry #15: Wolf's Legacy

Prompt: portentous || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: Very mild spoilers for a few lore bits from the Endwalker Healer role quests.

“Thank you for coming today!” Commander Hext said cheerfully, waving Angharad and Eydis into her office and towards the chairs in front of her desk.

“Of course, Commander Hext,” Angharad said, smoothing her skirts as she settled into her seat with her daughter next to her. “How can we be of service?”

“Call me Lyse, please,” the Commander said, dropping unceremoniously into her own chair. “And, well, today’s business is more what we can do for you.”

“Is this why Synnove isn’t here?” Eydis said, one dark red eyebrow arching up.

Lyse smiled, but this one was grim, rather than the bright effervescence with which she had met them at the Resistance’s headquarters in Ala Mhigo. “Right on the nose,” she said. “As dear a friend as she is, she isn’t head of house and doesn’t have the authority to make decisions about what I’m about to tell you.”

Angharad and Eydis exchanged surprised looks. Eydis’s other eyebrow went up, curiosity sparking in the dark green eyes she had inherited from her grandmother. Angharad shrugged helplessly; she hadn’t the faintest idea on what this could be about.

A knock came at the door, and Lyse immediately bounced to her feet and across the space to open it. She stepped further out of the way. “Ah-hah, now we can begin.”

A young, dark-skinned man with blond hair rolled himself inside, a large stack of papers carefully balanced in his lap. Angharad recognized the stamp of the Garlond Ironworks on the wheelchair, it’s frame and wheels clearly a lightweight metal with how easily the lad maneuvered himself inside.

“Ladies, this is Arenvald Lentinus,” Lyse said, closing her office door behind him. “He works primarily with the Silver Griffins, but he’s been assisting with this project for the Council. Arenvald, this is Angharad and Eydis Greywolfe.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Greywolfe, Mistress Greywolfe,” Arenvald said; his Abanian was faintly accented with a Thanalani lilt, not unusual among the children of the diaspora. He dipped his head in an abbreviated bow as he came to a halt next to Lyse’s desk. As he set the brake on his wheels, he used his free hand to transfer the stack of paperwork to the desk.

Eydis shuddered. “Please call me Eydis,” she said, her face twisted up like a displeased coeurl.

Angharad covered her laugh with a cough. “And please, call me Angharad. A pleasure to meet you, too, Arenvald, you’ve featured in more than one story from Synnove and the girls, and it’s lovely to finally have a face to put with the name.”

Arenvald grinned, and Angharad fought back the urge to pinch his cheeks. Ugh, what was it about Ala Mhigan lads and their disarming smiles? Absolutely precious.

As Lyse once more dropped back into her chair, Arenvald started unstacking the paper into separate piles. “How much do you know about this meeting today?” he asked.

“Not much beyond that it’s something requiring myself and my daughter in our capacities as the Greywolfe matriarch and the heir,” Angharad said, settling back into her seat and crossing her ankles.

Arenvald nodded and met her gaze head. “Right then,” he said. “A bit of background: I’ve been working with the Silver Griffins, an organization dedicated to assisting those Ala Mhigans who worked with the Garleans, willingly or no. Housing, physical and mental therapy, and so on.”

Angharad nodded; she heard of the organization through Synnove. Eydis’s head was cocked to the side—clearly this was the first she had heard of it—though it was curiosity that primarily colored her expression.

“Very recently, part of that has included trying to track down families,” Arenvald said. “The Council’s been working on a similar project, mostly trying to find any living descendants of the old nobility before claiming any of the remaining estates for public use. Lyse has been helping us with going out into the field to find anyone we think might be a relative, either of a Griffin family or the nobility.”

“Gets me out of the office,” Lyse said, some of her cheer back. “And it’s inadvertently helped us reach more of the remote villages in the Spine.”

“Inevitably, the issue of House Wolfe came up,” Arenvald said, a slight grimace on his face.

Angharad couldn’t blame him. House Wolfe had gone extinct during the reign of the Mad King, its matriarch and her children executed on not-so-trumped up charges of sedition; if she had been slightly less outspoken, Liefhun Wolfe might have been leading the rebellion the day they overthrew Theodoric…but might have very well still fallen to the cannonfire of the XIVth Legion’s airships as they razed half the city. In any event, the destruction of House Wolfe, one of the oldest families among Ala Mhigo’s high nobility, and the seizure of its asset by the crown had thrown the houses into disarray, worsened by the occupation.

“By some miracle, we found copies of the original deeds in one of the palace’s lower basements,” Lyse said. “We think probably a sympathetic administrator was making copies of everything in the event of Theodoric’s overthrow.”

“So, we had the full measure of House Wolfe’s holdings,” Arenvald said, “but then we had to figure out who inherited it all.”

“Bloody old inheritance laws,” Lyse muttered under her breath.

…Angharad did not like where this was going. Eydis’s brow was furrowing.

“House Blackwolfe is gone,” Arenvald ticked off on one finger, naming the oldest of House Wolfe’s cadet branches. “Changing the name wouldn’t have affected inheritance, with all of House Wolfe’s cadets following matrilineal succession, there’s always a clear line of precedence, and certainly no one in Ala Mhigo would blame House Blackwolfe’s sons and daughters for abandoning that particular name, but Odeyla and Otelin Blackwolfe are confirmed dead as of three years ago, during an uprising in the southern mountains that the XIIIth put down. Neither had children.

“House Whitewolfe,” he continued, “we can’t find a single trace of. Sewell Whitewolfe may have changed his name entirely, he may have died, no one’s seen hide nor hair of him since the Fall, and the Council’s given the authorization to have him declared legally dead. House Redwolfe is confirmed extinct; apparently their last daughter didn’t escape, and was forcibly conscripted. Records we traced have her killed in Corvos.”

Angharad did not like where this was going.

“Congratulations!” Lyse said with manic cheer. “Eydis, you are the sole living descendent and/or relative of three of the oldest families in Ala Mhigo.” She gestured to the four piles of paper on her desk; they were very tall. “This is a list of all your new stuff!”

“Lyse,” Arenvald sighed.

“There’s no nice way of saying it, Arenvald, better to rip the bandage off entirely.”

There was a moment of stunned quiet as Arenvald put his face in his hands. Slowly, Angharad turned her head to look at her daughter. Eydis stared back with eyes that were as wide and horrified as her own.

Oh, thank Rhalgr, she had indeed raised her girl right.

“Absolutely not,” Eydis said, shaking her head frantically. “Nope. Nope nope nope, not one bit, no.”

“The Republic of Ala Mhigo is more than welcome to the estates of House Wolfe, House Blackwolfe, House Whitewolfe, and House Redwolfe,” Angharad said firmly, “with the caveat the buildings be used for civil purposes or public housing. Certain heirlooms, if they’ve been recovered, I’d like to examine, but likely most I would see donated to a museum or other historical institution.”

“I’ll take anything about any surviving accounts!” Eydis said, starting to calm as she realized she was on the same page as her mother. “Depending on the sums available, we might be able to reopen the Greywolfe weapons school.”

Angharad beamed at her daughter. She and Eydis and Havardr had only discussed such tentatively, but if those assets were still within Ala Mhigo, that would mean they wouldn’t have to deal with the headache of untangling their accounts from the Greene ones controlled by Isolde.

Both Lyse and Arenvald slumped in obvious relief.

“Oh, thank the Twelve,” Lyse said, putting her elbows on her desk and her face in her hands. “That was so much easier than I thought it would be.” She peered through her fingers. “Arenvald?”

The young man was already rummaging through the piles. “I’ve got some paperwork here about signing the properties over,” he said. “They’re copies, so you’re welcome to take them to a solicitor to review before you sign anything.”

“We’re going to turn you into a proper bureaucrat,” Lyse said with a grin.

“Do not speak that into existence, you menace.”

As Lyse and Arenvald settled into a sibling-like good-natured bickering, Angharad and Eydis put their heads together to go over the fine print. Eydis’s leg was bouncing, excitement starting to flood her, and Angharad reached out to grab her hand and squeeze it. Eydis squeezed back.

It was about time the family had a bit of luck go their way.

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#ffxivwrite2023 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #lyse hext #arenvald lentinus #oc: angharad greywolfe #oc: eydis greywolfe #dt's writing #another one of those ideas that's been rattling around my brain for a few years

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novarhetta · 2 months

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I had a dream last night that involved Welcome Home, and for some reason, I really would like to share it somewhere, so I figured here is as good a place as any! Without further ado:

Welcome Back Home, Neighbor

I was walking through a forest with someone, I think it was a friend of mine, though they never said their name. We emerged to what looked like a small village area, and I immediately recognized it as the Welcome Home neighborhood, though there were other people walking around it, collecting information and setting things up. It was almost as if it had become a school of some sort, or a festival sort of place.

I walked towards Home first and was given a tablet just before I could get to the patio. On it were instructions: “Which three houses are closest to Wally's Home? Color in the characters so you can see Wally!”

I looked around. “I thought the houses were in a circle? I guess… I'll have to fill this out.”

My friend wasn't as interested in doing that; they just really wanted to go around and see everything. So while I went up and asked each neighbor some questions, they'd find a souvenir here or there, or do one of the activities the other neighbors had.

I got to meet some of the cast: Eddie, then Julie, then Howdy Pillar. The rest seemed too busy to see me, or simply unable to for some reason.

Eddie's Lumber: It was interesting, next to Eddies Post Office there was a stump, lumber, and an ax, as if someone else lived and worked there too. Completing his quest seemed to involve cutting one of the pieces of wood that was in a pile. Eddie handed me the ax and waited for me to do so. However, after doing only one, he took the ax back and handed me a sticker to signify completing the task. I would have asked him more, but he waved me off and walked away, ignoring any question I might have asked.

Julie on her Own: Julie was the only neighbor that was freely wandering around the neighborhood aside from Frank. And unlike Frank, who would pop up from bushes to tale pictures of bugs every now and then, Julie was happily greeting people and chatting with them. I thought that I'd finally have one of them to stop and talk to, but when I approached her, she cheerfully placed a sticker in my hand and greeted me, but was distracted by a small child tugging on her dress seconds later. I didn't want to be rude, so I continued on.

Howdy's Game: When I went to Howdy's bugdega, which for some reason was now behind Home rather than down a path or off to the side, I noticed that there was a wall of shelves that was full of books and paperwork. Some of the papers were tacked up on the shelves, and others were actually all over the floor or spread out, along with quite a few books that weren't in their proper place. It seemed that the activity here was fixing and reshelving the books, as well as completing some of the papers that were incomplete. I started to study some of the papers, but Howdy interrupted me, handing me the sticker that signified that I was done and did well. I tried to ask why, and I could see that he was sweating and nervous. He told me that I was done, and I could go. He tried to sound happy, but he was clearly panicked about something, and kept glancing at Home, even though it was facing away from his bugdega. I acquiesced and said bye to him before leaving.

So, I finished with a new building, which seemed to be a classroom to learn Spanish for some reason. The teacher had long black hair and a simple, old-fashioned light blue dress. I don't know who she was, but her building was slanted and difficult to walk on.

It also seemed to be a little closer to Home, so I colored Eddie, her, and then Howdy Pillar. I do feel like it is worth noting that if I colored an “incorrect” puppet, the screen would appear to shake and erase all of my progress. So I COULD have cheesed it instead of walking around the neighborhood, but I didn't want to.

Once it was completed, it seemed to automatically be sent to Wally, a sort of printout. There was something odd about the neighbors when I was filling it out, too. Every now and then they might look nervous, or the world might seem just a little darker. Once it was submitted, the day seemed to end into night right on cue. Almost everyone else went home; all of the humans pretty much went home except for like, one per building, maybe. I'm not sure where my friend went.

I suddenly found myself in front of Home. The door slowly creaked open, and I saw Wally's hand slip around the door first, and then one of his eyes. The way it looked at me, I felt like he could see and know any and every thought I might have. Home stood still, but its looming presence was not lost on me.

“I choose this one,” Wally speaks in his monotonous tone. The door opens a bit more, and he holds his hand out to me. “Come inside, please.”

As if drawn in, I can feel that something is very off, but I walk up the path to him. The closer I get, the darker everything seems behind me until the only light seems to be coming from Wally and Home. My stomach is doing flips, screaming about this being off, but I ignore it because my mind whispers, “I want this, I should follow him.” And that is enough. I take Wally's hand, and he leads me inside, the door closing behind us.

-----End Dream-----

I've always debated on sharing my dreams because I have SO MANY all the time. If you liked this dream and actually got this far, please do let me know if I should continue to share them in the future! I do enjoy writing them lol

Also, I'm not sure if this is important, but I hadn't checked the update or even looked at the site for months before this dream suddenly cropped up. Today, however, I did look into it, and holy WOW I'm loving all of the new content! Excited to be back and see what more is to come.

#welcome home #wally darling #dream #writing #writers on tumblr #dream diary #why am I sharing this #spooky #unsettling #Wally what are you doing

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sailxrmxrs · 1 year

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somehow it's been this long and this is the first alhaitham fic i've written oops. i think about him a lot so this is the culmination of that tbh. just him being overworked and tired after the events of the archon quest so someone has to make him rest even for a little while before he returns to the mountain of akademiya related paperwork. fun fact i actually wrote this like a month and a half ago for a side project but then didn't crosspost here bc i forgot lmao. anyway take a slice of comfort with everyone's favourite akademiya scribe turned acting grand sage and his architect roommate.

Night fast approached the skies of Sumeru City, the vestiges of the afternoon sunlight beginning to fade into a familiar darkness. Stalls in the Grand Bazaar were beginning to close, merchants and craftsmen preparing to return to their homes for a night of peaceful sleep before the cycle of work began all over again. Students of the Akademiya littered its high walls, many retreating to the House of Deana in the hopes of finding the perfect research study to complement their own academic work. Countless students were preparing for a long night ahead of reading through texts and tomes of all kinds, oncoming deadlines the primary motivation for their dedication to the craft. For some, this was an enjoyable task, the pressure of time resulting in optimal conditions to produce a perfectly sound piece of research. For many others, however, the rush was nothing more than the cause of undeterminable volumes of stress that seeped into every facet of life—even those beyond the Akademiya’s walls. Alhaitham had always belonged to the former group, pressure and expectation doing little to shake his spirit. As a student he’d rarely found himself amongst the collection of students with far too little time left to tackle all of their ongoing projects; his tutors and seniors always praised him for being so diligent. Since becoming the Akaedmiya’s Scribe, Alhaitham had found his work demand increase substantially, especially since the recent scandal involving the Akademiya’s Grand Sage and his accomplices.

Talks were still continuing as to who might replace the former Sages and as long as a decision had yet to be made, Alhaitham’s workload would see no slowing point. Such a fact did not bother him particularly. Keeping busy was all part of why he had become a scholar in the first place, after all. Although he did rather miss being left to his own devices archiving documents or sitting in the background of important meetings, taking notes without any need to contribute to the discussions. Nowadays, far more people seemed to pay attention to him and his presence than before. It was a change Alhaitham longed to see disappear once the former Sages’ positions were filled once again. Still, even with his newfound notoriety, Alhaitham remained an unchanged individual. The additional workload was all part of the job and he strived to complete anything thrown his way with utmost speed. Such a dedication to the job, no matter how admirable, was ultimately detrimental to one’s health, physical or otherwise. Alhaitham knew better than most the outcome of pushing one’s body too far.

He was usually not one to stay past his working hours, leaving any outstanding tasks for the following morning, but with the sudden pile of work thrown his way by the Akademiya, Alhaitham was left with little choice but to extend his work hours long into the night. The past weeks had left him near glued to his desk with no chance for respite in sight. More often than not he’d end up just staying there the entire night, taking a nap on the lounge chair that sat against the wall of books decorating his office and calling it a suitable night of sleep. Even now it had been a few days since he’d last returned home. Alhaitham supposed he should probably show his face there soon and prove to his roommate, Kaveh, that he hadn’t disappeared entirely. Though, admittedly, he was rather enjoying the peace and quiet from his roommate's presence. Easier to stay in his office all night than be bothered and woken by the architect making noise in the witching hour as he worked on some new project. Unlike Alhaitham, Kaveh was a chronic procrastinator and thrived in the early hours of the morning when Alhaitham usually preferred to sleep.

Alhaitham sighed to himself, fingers massaging at his aching temples. He'd been sitting at his desk far too long and words were starting to blur into one another, a sign that he should probably stop soon—or at the very least, take a break. A part of him was tempted to listen. Tempted to set aside all the paperwork that weighed on his shoulders and make the quick walk back home where he could sleep undisturbed until the sun came up once more. Then there was the side of him that whispered in his ear how a selection of the documents on his desk needed to be read through and organised in time to be submitted during a meeting the following morning. This was going to be a long night. One that required another mug of coffee as soon as physically possible.

Meanwhile, Kaveh walked the streets of Sumeru City. He relished in the cooler temperatures that evening brought with it, the sun’s seemingly everlasting warmth having finally begun to fade. Few people lined the streets of the city, though plenty of cheers from the jovial patrons of Puspa Café could be heard as he strolled past. The place never lacked in waves of energy especially during those final hours of sunlight before the moon rose and called them all to their homes. On any other night Kaveh might consider joining the throng of people revelling in the atmosphere, but tonight he had one specific goal in mind: To drag his roommate back to their shared home. Usually Kaveh did not like to volunteer himself as Alhaitham’s caretaker, companion, or even acquaintance. In fact, most barely knew the two were acquainted, let alone living together for a time. However, despite their differences, Kaveh did care somewhat for Alhaitham's wellbeing. It didn't take much to notice the increased whispers around the Akademiya of Alhaitham's new position, nor the sheer amount of work and responsibility forced upon him. Kaveh had barely believed it the first time he caught wind of Alhaitham's seniority but if his roommate's sour attitude was anything to go by, then it became undoubtedly clear he was being held at his office far longer than he wanted to be.

Usually Alhaitham would be home like clockwork to get some well earned rest before the daily cycle began once again and also check that Kaveh hadn't yet destroyed the place with all of his blueprints and models. Of course if you asked Kaveh, he'd proclaim how he strived himself on being an exceptional roommate who gave Alhaitham no reason to doubt his behaviour. If you asked Alhaitham, however, the Scribe would be inclined to disagree. Even still, despite their differences it was strange for Alhaitham to not have returned home by now. Sensing something wasn't quite right, Kaveh pulled himself away from his current project planning and made his way to the Akademiya in search of some answers. Walking through the Akademiya at this time of day sent chills down Kaveh’s spine, reminding him of all the nights he spent pouring his brain over documents to eventually throw together for his thesis. He did not miss those days. A student passed him in the corridor, dark circles beneath their eyes and a stack of books with loose papers messily slotted between in their arms. He definitely did not miss those days.

Upon arriving at Alhaitham’s office door, Kaveh didn't bother to knock and instead walked straight in. The sight that he was greeted with was even worse than expected. If you asked Kaveh any other day he’d answer that Alhaitham never looked good, but today? This was something else entirely. He looked positively ghostly. More than anything, he looked as though he needed to sleep for an entire week. His face was paler than usual and his eyes bore evidence of a disturbance to his sleep schedule. Kaveh didn't doubt that Alhaitham had been sleeping, if the blanket strewn across the lounge chair was anything to go by, but even a subtle change to Alhaitham's schedule was enough to throw him off kilter.

“What are you doing in my office? Is seeing you at home not punishment enough?” Alhaitham spoke, his voice sounding just as tired as his appearance suggested. It seemed the Scribe did not lose his sharp tongue even in the throes of exhaustion.

“Hilarious. Interesting you mention our home when you’ve barely even been there this last week.”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow as he sat back in his chair. “Oh? Did someone miss me?”

A frustrated sigh escaped Kaveh’s lips, a frequent occurrence in these bouts with Alhaitham. Despite the anger that threatened to swell upon witnessing the smug expression that decorated Alhaitham’s face, Kaveh remained steadfast and determined. He wasn't losing this fight. “Not as much as you clearly miss sleep. When was the last time you slept in an actual bed?”

“Is that an offer?”

“If you don’t give me an honest answer I can and will drag you by that stupid cape of yours through the streets of Sumeru until I force you to rest. I get that you’re Mr Popular right now at the Akademiya but that’s not an excuse to hole up in your office for days. What happened to the Alhaitham who was up and out of his office the second his work hours ended?"

Alhaitham stayed in his seat, entirely unmoved by his roommate’s arrival in his office. “I have little choice in the matter. Not that it’s any interest of yours, but I have paperwork to do.”

“One of these days I’m going to be responsible for severely injuring the Akademiya’s precious Scribe. Actually, that might be a good idea to get you to finally leave that damn desk.”

Alhaitham sighed as he rose from his chair. He knew deep down that Kaveh was right for once. He despised being in his office any longer than necessary and with every hour that passed, Alhaitham could feel his body weighing heavier and heavier. The need for rest was all-too-present and he knew ignoring it would do him no good. “If you’re going to be a pain in my ass here at least wake me up in an hour,” he instructed as he collapsed onto the lounge chair, eyes already closed and pulling him under.

“What do you think I am? Your personal alarm?” Kaveh scoffed, indignance sinking into every pore of his skin at the sight of Alhaitham already fast asleep. How the man could pass out so quickly was beyond Kaveh.

“Insufferable idiot.” His attention turned toward Alhaitham’s desk and the paperwork that adorned it, all different kinds of documents both for his usual tasks as Scribe in addition to all the notes regarding the assignment of the new Sages. It was all far too much for one person to manage alone.

“I suppose this work won’t finish itself, will it?” Kaveh took a seat at Alhaitham’s desk and prepared himself for the following hour of filing through everything. He might bicker and fight with his roommate a great deal, but he could set that aside for tonight. Just tonight.

#genshin impact fanfic #alhaitham fanfic #kavetham #wow it's not an x reader for once look at me go #i love alhaitham and kaveh's dynamic a lot okay they're both so babygirl in such different ways #also don't perceive how long it took me to edit this for tumblr and post it #or how long it took to actually write something for alhaitham the man has been living in my head rent free for MONTHS #this is also my formal apology to the people who are on the receiving end of my alhaitham brainrot on a daily basis #you are stronger than any 5 star for putting up with my alhaitham related bs #anna writes

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copperbadge · 1 year

Photo

NaClYoHo wasn’t very photogenic today, so I thought I’d open with a photograph of Polk, The World’s Longest Tiny Cat.

[ID: Three photos; the first shows Dearborn the tortie and Polk the tabby on my duvet, Dearborn curled up but Polk stretched out as long as she is able. The two photos below are of today’s lunch, another King Arthur pizza, and my plant windowsill, with catnip, spider plant, Mystery Orchid, tomatoes, basil, dill, paprika, and peppers; glass ornaments from my favorite glass store hang above them.]

Got a bunch of new readers today, so FYI “NaClYoHo” is my version of NaNoWriMo, where I spend every day in November listening to podcasts and cleaning. If you’d like to know more the Manifesto is here, or you can click the “naclyoho” tag on this post.

I could feel myself getting a bit tired, and trying to half-ass stuff lately in terms of cleaning, so I may take a break tomorrow and I took it a bit easy today. I did finish sorting through the storage boxes -- sort of. One of them I know is just paperwork and photographs so I put it on the bottom of the pile (it’s super heavy) and put the three well-sorted bins on top of it, so the kitties have their climbing tower again. It leaves two boxes left to sort through; I refer to those as the Trauma Boxes even though they’re just places I’ve thrown stuff I don’t know what to do with, so they’ll take a while to get through.

I did a bit of pruning on the plants; I really need to empty out and clean the aerogarden but I’ll wait on that for a bit, especially since some of the plants need a bit more growing time before I transplant them. And I made some pizza for lunch because I’ve been craving it lately but not up to dealing with delivery guys. Plus I have like four cans of tomato sauce that I should be using up.

I also did some online shopping, none of it very fruitful. I’d like to order some cut-to-fit lumber but you have to go in person to do that; I considered ordering custom cutting boards and using those but it’d be $70 which is a lot to pay for a bathroom cabinet upgrade that wouldn’t be visible. I’d like a stand for some of the planters and possibly some new planters (instead of buckets and upcycled mixing bowls), and I took measurements today for a new dresser/clothes organizer, but I can’t find anything I like in an attractive and lightweight design. I want a dresser that has some open shelving, and I’d like some fairly deep drawers in it as well, but anything I found remotely interesting was too bulky or heavy. It may be a long-term quest.

Listened mostly to news podcasts today -- extremely dull episodes about climate change and COP27 by The Indicator and The Journal, a more interesting episode about the status of Twitter by The Journal, and an episode about “Alt Labor” (basically union rebranding) by The Indicator. Roughly an hour, so I’m still doing well above the 20 minute average I generally do for NaClYoHo.

#naclyoho #cleaning #food #plants

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year

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Skin & Scale (Part 1)

So the survey results are in and making something of the dragon Azula fic won. So here’s the first part of that! It’s a combo of Dragon Skin and The Dragon’s Child. This first chapter is going to be very familiar as it is an updated and extended version of Dragon’s Child.

Summary: Some time ago, Ozai and Ursa stole a dragon egg in a quest for Ozai to have a perfect heir. Through the help of dark spirits, that little hatchling became a human child. They named her Azula.

“We’re almost there.” The man hisses. The woman next to him remains silent. She is still wholly unsure of the entire endeavor. “We just have to cross the main chamber.” The light of his torch throws shadows across the cave walls. Shadows that put a chill in the woman’s soul and lifts the hairs on her neck. She swears that she can hear the groans and growls of the dragons.

The egg cradled in her arms feels that much heavier.

It is such a pretty thing, this precious thing that she holds. The egg is mostly gold with a few brilliant cracks of blue and splatters of turquoise chips. If she didn’t know any better she would say that it was a sea serpent egg that she is holding rather than a dragon egg.

“We can’t just take it.” She says.

“We can and we will.” The man snaps. “Now quiet down before they awaken.”

She decides not to tell him that his single sentence carried enough volume to wake a dragon three caves over. She clutches the egg tighter, it’s rough surface nicks her skin like thorns. “I don’t want to go through with this. We can still return it…”

“No.” He replies through gritted teeth. “This is the only way that we will get what we want...what our Nation deserves.”

They step into the light.

The woman tosses a final look at the cave.

Not a dragon to be seen or heard.

There is a part of her that wishes that there were one.

Some outside force that can coerce them into saving themselves from their own foolishness. From getting themselves into something that is far beyond what they can reasonably handle.

.oOo.

Zuko claws at his hairline. On days like these, he is more than half inclined to take Azula up on her offer. He can hand the crown over to her and enjoy his newfound leisure time. With several years of recovery, he feels as though she’d fit the throne well. Much better than he can and she would probably enjoy it much better than he does. She has the know how and the leadership skills for it, even if her compassion and diplomacy can be somewhat lacking. But he is committed. He made a promise to himself and his nation and he intends to be the best leader that he can be.

Azula lingers in the room waiting for something to do, but until now, things have been quiet. There are no riots, no terrorists, no skirmishes to break up and so the princess is horribly bored. She wanders over to her brother and rests her elbows on his desk, deliberately obstructing his paperwork.

“Can you move? This is important.”

“I can.” She replies simply with a flippant and lazy wave of her hand.

He blinks at her. She blows at a tumble of locks that have fallen out of order and into her face.

“Oh, you actually want me to move.”

Zuko massages his temples. Although, he supposes that there is some humor in that faux innocence. It is infinitely better than her former, outright viciousness. He can work with a more playful, mischievous Azula.

“Then give me something to do, Zuzu. I am terribly bored.” Evidently, it seems like she grows bored very easily. Now that there are no fugitives to capture, no wars to fight. She never did do well with the mundane and the day to day. It isn’t as exciting for her.

“Read a book? Paint a picture? Feed the turtle-ducks?”

Azula scrunches her nose. “Give me something worthwhile to do.”

He really doesn’t know how to tell her that, these days, there aren’t really any truly impactful matters to attend, let alone life altering things. The sorts of thrills that keep her entertained and off of his growing pile of cumbersome paperwork.

“If you let me finish reading these, I might find something.” He knows that he is lying and she does too. Truth be told, he is getting rather bored for himself.

She moves her arms and stands behind him with her arms folded. He tries to ignore her as he flips through the pile for the letter detailing the most pressing problem. And just like that his thoughts begin to shift from that boredom and the prospect of a very lengthy era of nothing in particular to a growing sense that his days of peace are coming to an end. Amid the mundane tasks is a letter from a traveler. Each word brings him a step away from the prospect of prolonged relaxation and one step closer to another gradious adventure.

Zuko doesn’t know how much stock he should put into the letter or if he should put any at all. The letter’s sender isn’t exactly credible.

He digs it out of the pile and holds it out to Azula no less.

“What’s this?”

“Read it.”

He gives her a moment, watching her eyes sweep the page. “A joke.” She casts it aside. “Or a story.”

“Why would someone write me a story about dragons wanting to go to war with us?”

Azula shrugs. “Maybe they are as bored as I am.” She sniffs. “Spirits, I pity them if they are more bored than I am…” She twirls her bangs around her pointer and shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“This is serious.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Is it? The dragons are long dead.”

She is as offensively blunt as ever.

Zuko knits his brows. “No, not all of them.”

“I’ll humor you, Zuzu. But only because I really have nothing else to do right now. What do the last dragons want with us?”

“I guess that we’re going to have to meet with them and find out.”

“You mean that you will. I’ll stay here and make sure things stay in order.” He can see it on her face that she has been waiting for a chance to snag the crown, even if it’s only for a moment. “Don’t worry, I won’t destroy my own nation.”

“I need someone to go with me.”

“Send a messenger hawk to the Avatar, I’m sure that he’d be glad to go on another quest with you. It has been a while, hasn’t it?” She gives a nonchalant shrug. “Or I suppose that I can go…”

“You’re not going along.”

“You still don’t trust me.” She guesses flatly.

“No!” Zuko says quickly. “It’s not that. Believe it or not I actually kind of care about you…”

“I can take care of myself, Zuzu. I haven’t had…” she clears her throat, her face coloring ever so slightly. “A moment since the comet.”

Zuko taps his fingers upon the table. “We can go together. I can leave Mai in charge for a bit.” Her expression goes curiously blank. It is an expression that he has come to know as resignation, perhaps disappointment. “Alright, fine.” He caves with a groan. “You can stay here and watch over things. I’ll bring Aang with me to meet with the dragons.”

She gives him the faintest flash of a smile. “Crown?” She holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers.

He rolls his eyes and places it in her palm. “Just don’t change any laws or policies on me.”

“Not even the stupid ones?”

“N-not even the stupid ones!” He sputters.

.oOo.

That night she dreams of dragons. Flashes of red and blue scales and then gold and green. They are everywhere, pillaging the landscape with a power both awesome and fearsome. A power that she, even deep within the dreamscape, envies with all of her soul. She finds herself overtaken by a longing.

A desire to be in the sky with them, mighty and unstoppable. To have wings of her own and scales and claws.

The whole of the Fire Nation is consumed by its own element. The streets are a cacophony of screams. The pathways have a fine paint of blood, red as the banners that flap tattered and singed in the breeze. Claws swoop from the sky and steal lives away and she is in the middle of it all.

In the center of the chaos and the destruction.

Right in the center, at the heart of it all.

There is nothing but horror and hopelessness around her from all angles and vantage points. Screams and pleas and people shouting their disrepair as claws rake through them and fire rains upon them.

And yet all she feels is longing.

Deep and terrible longing.

.oOo.

Being the Fire Lord, she finds, is just as dull as pretty much everything else. Mostly it consists of sitting up straight, tall, and proud or–when she is alone and unmonitored–laying down and sitting in more ridiculous but significantly more comfortable positions.

Much of her time is spent watching her fire shift and dance while she waits for Lo and Li to give her some business to attend or some urgent matter to address. There are no urgent matters, nothing but more letters coming in from their mysterious traveler. She doesn’t find these particularly exciting anymore; there is only so much, ‘we’re going to die a scaly, fiery death’ that she can read before her eyes gloss over and the words lose their impact.

Azula lays back, clasping her hands atop her sternum and groans to herself; she should have just taken Zuzu up on his offer to let him talk to the dragons. But no, she just had to get a taste of the throne, of what she could have had. She supposes that she is somewhat grateful–at least now she knows that she can stop mourning what could have been.

Evidently, what could have been is completely unsatisfactory and the more time she spends beneath the weight of the crown the less she can see herself wearing it for good. As much as she hates to admit it, Zuko, Uncle, Aang…all of them–they were right. She very much does need to figure out just what she wants and it isn’t this crown.

She needs something that feels fulfilling and exciting. Something that can put her talents to good use. Something that doesn’t also leave her with a sense of longing, something that doesn’t make her feel bound and chained.

In wearing the crown she begins to consider that it probably has more control over she and her life than she does of it. And she can’t imagine that it is any different for Zuzu if his drab expressions are anything to go by.

She taps her fingers against her sternum.

The ceiling above with its golden reliefs shimmers above her. The metallic dragons coil and uncoil, having more fun than she ever can and they are only carefully sculpted depictions.

Azula sighs.

The dragons seem to reach down to her with their golden claws. And, just because no one else is around, she finds herself extending her hand to the ceiling.

For a moment she can pretend like her warm hand is touching its cold claws.

The fire around her dances, blazing a brilliant blue.

Azula closes her eyes, feels the heat on her face.

She wants to be close to that heat. Wants to feel the fire in her belly stir and sear. She wants to hold more power and fire than her own petite body could possibly allow. Sometimes she feels fragile and delicate; her skin is so soft and her frame is so slight.

Sometimes she feels like the things inside of her are much larger than her body.

Sometimes she feels like her mind has outgrown it.

And maybe that is why she gets so bored so easily, why she always has to chase that thrill, that rush.

Maybe that is what drives her mind to such dark and frightening places. Maybe it is not meant to be contained.

Maybe it was meant for something bigger.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction

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volterran-wine · 2 years

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The Road to Recovery || Marcus (HC)

Requested by @keylaneri: “Hello! Also yay, your inbox is open! So I know that in your world building Marcus would likely stay alone, for the rest of his existence. But I read somewhere, that you also think, he would maybe take on a platonic mate, and that got me thinking. How about a headcanon about a platonic, mischievous, always upbeat mate lifting Marcus slowly out of his depression and driving his brothers insane in the process? I would love to see the whole coven slowly despair about them. :D Thank you!”

Well, even though I do not believe Marcus will find another romantic partner... I do wish for him to find more happiness in life. So the rare chance of someone being able to awaken a platonic bond within in him is something I will gladly entertain.

!𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! None!

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

It all began when they had decided to recruit another batch of transitionary guards. As usual quite a crowd turned up through word of mouth, all vying to find their place among the elusive Volturi. Marcus had for once shown up to oversee the proceedings, looking for conflicting bonds or less that savoury individuals. That is when he saw them, a vampire that had the potential for a deep platonic bond within the coven, with him. He had turned away on the spot, informing his fellow rulers of how he wanted them out of the recruitment process as soon as possible.

Unluckily for Marcus his sisters in law had another idea, making sure that this new recruit would make it through their recruitment process without a hitch much to their brothers annoyance. It did not help that this vampire was so energetic, always trying to spread positivity wherever they went. After an entire week of being nagged by his family Marcus finally relented and agreed to extend an invitation.

The first time Marcus invited this vampire to an outing it was to care for Didyme’s garden. Purposefully he has neglected the upkeep for a while so the two of them has a lot of work cut out for them, it would certainly take the entire day to do get all the work done. While tending to the garden Marcus would make a point out of talking fondly about Didyme, never changing the topic through the entire day. The truth of the matter was that Marcus wanted to test this potential connection, to see for himself if they would be accepting of his former wife. Much to his surprise they listen carefully and even inquired about his departed wife. By the end of the day he almost felt optimistic.

“Would you join me in my private office in the morning?” “I would love to!” “Do not say that until you have seen the pile of paperwork and documents I have to work through. Goodnight.”

From then on the unlikely pair would be seen more often, usually in a formal setting that was tied to Marcus’ station in life. Though one day Aro would walk by one of the music rooms, hearing his brothers tell-tale style of playing the piano. It was difficult for him to not weep, for he had not seen Marcus smile like that in hundreds of years.

However, one evening Marcus’ platonic connection would find him by his lonesome self in the chapel, staring quite intently at the interact glasswork they had installed centuries prior. For a split second they hesitated, but they did take a seat besides the king with a respectful distance between the two of them.

“My brothers have their families to turn to. I have no-one.” “Marcus—” “Do not pity me. I sealed my fate a long time ago when I joined Aro on his quest. The only thing I can do now is play my part and take care of those under my wing.” “... I would like to help with that.” “Perhaps support would not be the worst.”

After the evening in the chapel the two of them would spend more time together outside of work. Marcus’ newfound connection would even be extended invitations to spend time with the royal family as a whole, showing they had been fully accepted into the core group of The Volturi. With time they would even begin to view the royals as their own family.

They would become Marcus’ plus one to every event that occurred within the palazzo. Usually being seated with him off to the side on the royal’s private balcony, both nipping on glasses of blood as they observed the crowd below. One of them being a lot more enthusiastic about the event of course. After much convincing the oldest king would find himself on the dance floor for one dance, though he could not help a tiny smile to spread on his lips.

Officially they would be known as Marcus’ personal guard. It was the kings personal wish for his newfound connection to be kept in the dark. This meant they would keep him company both during trials, official work as well as when he traveled. The brought a new sense of humour to the usually strict courtroom, playing off of Santiago and Afton’s personalities quite well. Much to the despair of Caius and Renata.

Marcus would always mourn Didyme, and his spirit never fully lifted; but he could not deny the impact his platonic mate had on his life. Eternity no longer felt like such an agonising and dark fate.

#Marcus Volturi #Marcus Volturi Headcanon #Twilight #Twilight Renaissance

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nicetrynicetry · 27 days

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176

Midweek, missing V badly. She sends word that she swam with whale sharks in Bali, and I feel bad for piling work questions on her. After Pilates I spend a confusing three hours and change with A, who is living and breathing his upcoming Tate show. His studio is littered with assistants sewing and emailing and generally toiling. It’s my idea of hell - not only delegating numerous tasks but being watched while I do my own. V and I talk a lot about “bloat” in the artist’s setup, too big of a studio, too extravagant a process. According to our recent studies, men seem to fall into this trap more easily than women. We don’t know why. I ask A what the mortgage is on his studio building and I am harrowed by the answer. We drink coffee using crates as chairs, despite there being perfectly good chairs nearby, and my core is still quivering from Pilates so it is hard to maintain my posture. We talk about things we aren’t experts in; Israel Palestine and puberty blockers and teenage pregnancy. He walks me through various works in progress and tells me a moving story about his grandmother. It is clear that A wants something from me to make a specific installation, but it’s not clear what. Music for a fictional radio station, a painting unstretched and made into a blanket to cover a couch. Something like that. We walk for a snack at a Turkish cafe and he tells me one of his assistants said she feels uncomfortable with the eventual title of the work she is fabricating. “Fuck that”, I say of the assistant, “you don’t get to police the titles. That’s crazy”. I am not even close to qualified giving this kind of advice because I have never hired anybody to help make my art. On the way back, A mentions that Tate may want to acquire the installation, of which my work is hypothetically a part. The potential paperwork for this already gives me a headache. All I am left thinking is how few good professional moves I am capable of making when V is away

W is characteristically slow sending any news of my two songs, only empty promises and updates on his own career. The painting he’s getting in return becoming smaller and smaller with every passing day, and it’s been upwards of 200 days. I have this fantasy of presenting him with an artwork the size of my fingernail when we are finally done that gives me so much delight it’s almost erotic. I wonder if we will get into a lawsuit, whether this is the legal trouble I’ve been headed for all these years

The evening is a swirl of YouTube videos, half-heartedly loading the washing machine with clothes but not starting the thing, FaceTime with A (other A) as he works on Pro Tools, his mouth hung open in concentration. He breaks every few minutes to sing to me and ask me about my day. We discuss dates for New York, and Athens, and Switzerland. April is already turning into a desperate quest to keep some of the heat and longing between us alive with only iPhones and a bitch of a time difference at our disposal. In a couple of weeks he’ll be in Texas to watch the eclipse. I remember the last total solar eclipse in the UK in 1999, I had stitches in my lip from being bitten by a dog, and we travelled to the West Country on some kind of school trip. I had wrongly expected total darkness, but instead got a weird midday dusk. That and 9/11 were truly wasted on my child’s brain

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topcaservices · 4 months

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Navigating the Maze: Finding Comfort in ShehinandraSid for Your Income Tax Filing Needs

Introduction:

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In the realm of income tax filing, ShehinandraSid emerges as a guiding light, illuminating the path with compassion and expertise. So, the next time you find yourself in the maze of financial uncertainty, remember that ShehinandraSid is not just near you – they are with you every step of the way, turning a daunting task into a comforting experience. Say goodbye to tax season stress and hello to the warmth of ShehinandraSid!

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ally-holmes · 7 months

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Cats

Day 12 of the 30-days short story challenge

Today's topic is cats. Do you remember my Anders Johnson x Fem!Hades fanfic made for the #Deanobingo2023 hosted by @deanobingo?? Well, I decided to take a peek at Anubis' cats.

CW: different takes on actual and antient religions. Words: 1037

Here it goes:

Anubis had been a growing god since the beginning of times. He started his existence as the protector of graves, embalmer, and guide to the netherworld. Among humans, however, Osiris gained popularity just because he resurrected, Osiris took Anubis's job as lord of the netherworld, god of life, the dead, and the afterlife. That rubbed on Anubis the wrong way, especially since there was nothing he could do because Osiris was one of the most popular gods among Egyptians.

Tables turned when Egyptian religion declined. Monotheism took place and all the false dogma spread like a plague. Just as the Ancient Greek gods had done, the Egyptian ones left the human realm abandoning them without looking back. Osiris was expected to remain in the netherworld and attend to his duties, however, humans didn't respect him anymore which plied up with the notion that he felt the netherworld suffocating. Anubis, who had never dreamt of taking his rightful place once again, suggested to Osiris that it would be good for him to get some fresh air from the gods' realm. Sooner than expected Osiris sent Anubis a missive informing him that he refused to go back and that all his duties were now Anubis'.

Luckily Anubis had left his jackal body behind because if his tail was still in place it would have waged with renewed energy; just the notion was mortifying.

As time went by, his relations with other Mediterranean gods became stronger. In the end, they all had the same issue: humans didn't believe in them anymore which made most of the gods leave the mortal realm leaving behind the gods of the dead and the afterlife to take care of the poor mortal souls that piled up in their thresholds. The holy wars were a nasty business for them. Fighting for a non-exiting almighty god, humans had killed and gotten killed, and now their souls found themselves lost as they all expected to be gathered into some sort of Heaven.

One rule that one has to take into account is that, wherever one dies, one's soul belongs to the local god. Only Hades and Anubis kept working as gods of the dead, thus they divided the Mediterranean area between them. They both worked hand in hand to take care of all the holy wars' souls which wasn't a piece of cake; the fact that both sides found themselves sharing the exact same queue to have their souls weighed or tested was a big shock for them.

Nasty thing monotheism. And to think that the whole thing started just because Loki was sent to Earth and was getting bored…

Hades did something unprecedented at some point. She packed her things needing a change and, of course, to seize Loki and make him pay for all the paperwork he provoked them to do. Apparently, the northern gods had had to run away due to the ferocity of monotheism in those lands; they set themselves in New Zealand, blending their souls into human vessels to regenerate every human life until Odin completed a quest that would take them all to Asgard.

Despite the fact that Hades had changed her realm for New Zealand, she kept doing her work efficiently, and so did Anubis. However, more times than necessary, he found himself looking through the veil to the human realm. After Hades made up her mind and decided to stay in New Zealand as long as her new partner was mortal Anubis knew the human realm was his only chance to keep his sanity.

Copying Hades' actions, Anubis changed his godly appearance in favor of more human traces. He became a tall man with wide shoulders and firm muscles, black eyes, and strong black hair modernly styled in perfect harmony with a well-kept puffy beard. Not only that, he also copied Hades inserting himself in the law business in Egypt. In the end, as gods of the dead, they seemed to gain pleasure in applying laws and doing paperwork —to some extent, of course.

Hence his current position eying some of the latest paperwork Hades had sent him, written in ancient Greek, in his very luxurious law firm.

Silently, Mummy jumped on his desk blinking at him once he looked at her. The white cat was sensing his distress. Leaving his stylus aside, Anubis pulled away from the desk taking a deep breath. Mummy moved carefully on top of his documents before letting herself drop into his lap. She stretched herself before hitting Anubis' chin with her head while purring. The god surrounded the cat with his big arms and walked with her against his chest making a beeline to the Chesterfield sofa that was awaiting him for a moment of relaxation. As he launched at it, Mummy left out a little meow before resuming her work.

Implementing the use of cats as emotional-support pets instead of just guards of the dead was a very good idea. Anubis and Hades were drinking their miseries away several centuries ago when they came to the conclusion that their souls were terrified of both, Greek three-headed dogs and furless cats. They trained their animals to be soul keepers for millennia, but a change was needed thus they started the new training with the new litters.

Hades had accomplished a great deal by allowing her three-headed dogs to transform into cute normal dogs, especially golden retrievers. Her souls felt more at ease when the emotional support beast was cute and ready to cuddle.

Anubis did the same, only with the difficulty that cats were more independent than dogs yet they needed more attention somehow. Only a cat wasn't enough to keep his stressed souls happy, he had to lend his cats in pairs.

There was also the issue of those people in his realm who didn't like cats. Anubis and Hades signed a collaboration treat in which they were going to share cats and dogs when necessary. There has not been a problem since.

Flail jumped into his stomach claiming her own time smoothing Anubis' emotions. Mummy allowed her sister a spot reluctantly leaving Anubis with no other choice but to scratch each cat with one of his hands, the paperwork could wait.

The end.

#fanfic #30 days short stories #30 days #short stories #writing challenge #writing prompt #prompts #cat #anubis

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