#my hair is on fire and i am a walking sunburn
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yeah sex is great but have you ever found a shady parking spot in 100+ degree weather
#that one minute walk through the parking lot roasted me to a crisp#my hair is on fire and i am a walking sunburn#Kidding kidding it just felt like i was in a rotisserie oven#and now im in a nice cool building... bliss....#yk the worst part of living in dry heat is my hair is painfully flat#i look like im from the early 2010s....#bieber lookin.... i cant....#like you know the reboot wally au? thats me rn#absolutely unprompted#aaaaand post. 100 note post right here#(please do the funny thing and let this flop Thankyew)
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Ten Seconds
Masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x female!reader
TW:none I don't think
Summary: Who knew life could change so quickly?
Word Count:3.3k
One. Rafe's eyes land on your features, taking in your plump lips that shine with strawberry-flavored lipgloss and the mild sunburn dusted on your cheeks.
Two. He takes a deep breath and for the first time, feels like his lungs can fully expand to take in the salty sea air in all its glory.
Three. His heart thrums in its cage, seemingly unlocked by a key he wasn't aware existed as it flutters away and lands in the palm of your hand.
Four. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, hitting his bloodstream like a drug that smells like tanning oil and cotton candy.
Five. The tension dissolves from his body as your energy engulfs him like a down comforter, and muscles he's never felt before unwind and go lax.
Five seconds is all it takes for Rafe's entire world to shift, and you disarm him without even knowing he exists.
Six. Your laugh floats to his ears like a summer melody that drips with sticky sweetness like a melting popsicle, and he decides it's his favorite treat.
Seven. His knees nearly buckle when a smile brighter than the sun graces your features, chasing away the darkness that shrouds him.
Eight. Your head tilts back and the hues from the setting sky dance off your exposed neck with an angelic glow, and suddenly pink is his favorite color.
Nine. His eye catches a glint of gold and his attention is drawn to the rings scattered on your right hand, suddenly he wants to add an even shinier one with a diamond that could be seen from space to your left.
Ten. Your lip quirks up as you catch him admiring you from afar, and the breeze that's thick with sand and hushed whispers that he previously inhaled is sucked from his constricting throat.
Ten seconds is all it takes for Rafe Cameron to believe in love at first sight. Time stands still altogether as he watches you excuse yourself from your friends and make your way toward him.
He notes that you seem to float instead of walk, moving oh so gracefully as if you're a celestial being and he's about to have a religious experience.
Your gaze never leaves his, the eye contact so intense that it sends fire racing through his veins, burning so hot it leaves a scorching trail in its wake.
He's frozen in place, utterly entranced by the way your long eyelashes fan across your face when you blink.
Another ten seconds is all the time it takes to cross the few feet of distance that separates the two of you, and his head swims at the close proximity.
Your aroma is even stronger up close, and he's sent reeling as he wonders if it could be bottled up and turned into a candle.
He doesn't even know your name and has never heard you speak, yet somehow you feel like home. It doesn't make any sense, but then again, neither does falling in love with a stranger.
You watch him for a moment, eyes raking over his chiseled jawline and backwards baseball cap. There's a few strands of sun bleached hair poking out and ticking his tanned skin in a way that reminds you of a character in The Outsiders.
He looks boyish and rugged at the same time, and your interest is fully piqued. He's easily the most attractive man you've ever seen.
Your melodic voice rings out like a siren song that's calling just for him, and the ever-present violent storm that rages just under the surface relents.
"Do you always lurk like a stalker or am I just that special?"
There's that smile again, unabashed and erasing any logical thought from his brain. You wait for a moment, your eyebrows shooting up expectantly as he stares down at you like he's been struck with lightning.
Rafe scrambles for words, begging his mind to string together a coherent sentence that will keep you within arms reach.
"Uh, sorry. You just-"
He cuts himself off and your grin widens.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"
He's painfully aware you're teasing; you don't make a move to wipe your mouth and your smile doesn't falter for a second.
"You're stunning."
He breathes a sigh of relief as words finally find him and your features soften in a way that makes his heart skip a beat.
Despite the stench of stale peanuts and sweat, you still feel like you're in the center of rom-com. There's shitty music playing, yet you hone in on the dizzying rasp of his voice.
"Stunning?" You question, and he nods his head slowly.
"Exquisite, actually. Downright bewitching if I'm being completely honest."
Rafe has never used those words before; he's never seen anyone or anything that warranted them. You most certainly do.
You laugh lightly and in a split second, he makes it his life mission to get that sound out of you as often as possible.
It's a fleeting moment; a blip in the universe, but it feels like an entire lifetime as he studies the look in your eye.
It's a mix between enamored and mischievous, and he can't even begin to comprehend the feeling it gives him.
"Those are big words. I figured someone as gorgeous as yourself would get by on pretty privilege."
He ignores the blush crawling up his neck, tilting his head with a smile of his own.
"Are you saying I look dumb?"
He's used to women being flustered around him, his sense of humor usually throwing them for a loop. You don't miss a beat though, and his stomach does a somersault.
Your head shakes from side to side and he fights the urge to run his fingers through your hair that looks a little too soft to be real.
"No, I'm saying you're attractive enough that you could be dumb and no one would fault you."
His smile only grows at your quick wit and ability to match his energy. He's quickly learning that your tongue is sharp as a knife, and he loves the way it cuts him.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
You study him for a moment, pondering your next words.
"Do you have a name? Or should I just call you pretty boy?"
He pretends to think for a moment before taking a step closer. He's elated when you don't move back, and rests his hand dangerously close to yours on the table.
"Rafe. Though pretty boy works just as well."
He's about to ask you the same when you offer it up on a silver platter.
"I'm Y/N. Though if you have a fitting nickname, you can use that too."
Your voice holds a teasing lilt and he lowers his head so it's only a couple inches from your ear.
"I'm sure I could think of a few."
In fact, he could think of more than a few. He doesn't want to come on too strong though, and much to your displeasure, he backs away just as quickly as he advanced.
He wonders for a second how he hasn't seen you before and worries that you're a touron. It's a fleeting thought, quickly swept away when your hand grazes his.
"Hopefully I get to hear them."
He doesn't miss the lust that causes your voice to turn sultry and shifts a bit as his pants grow tighter.
"Where are you from? I haven't seen you around."
He changes the subject to something more innocent in an attempt to distract himself from his growing arousal and you tsk.
"I'm from right here in OBX, but I didn't go to the academy and I generally stay away from figure eight. I kinda ride the line between kook and pogue."
He nods his head, the decades-long class war nowhere near the forefront of his mind.
"So I take it you know who I am?"
It's a pointless question; anyone who grew up within a twenty-mile radius of Kildare knows his family.
You give a timid smile and nod.
"Yeah, I just didn't want to be too presumptuous. Your reputation kind of precedes you."
His heart sinks as he feels any chance he had with you drifting away.
"So then why are you talking to me?"
There's an underlying sadness in his voice that you catch, and your eyebrows furrow.
"I never believed in judging people without knowing them. Besides, I know that picture-perfect family stuff is bullshit. Everyone has their skeletons."
He straightens up at this, genuinely taken aback at the lack of judgment in your voice.
"And what if I told you the rumors are true? That I am some violent asshole that rains terror on those around me?"
The words leave his mouth before he fully processes them and he kicks himself. Is he trying to scare you away?
Your bubbly smile returns and his breath hitches as you take a step closer.
"I'd say I haven't seen it yet. Besides, underneath the scariest fighters is usually a big softie that's misunderstood."
Rafe's chest squeezes, and he can't believe how in five minutes you've got him figured out better than his lifelong friends.
"You're something special, you know that?"
And he means it. There's a gravitational pull that calls out to him, and despite his usual attempts to push people away with a giant wall lined with barbed wire, he doesn't want to do that with you for even a second.
"So I've been told. Though to be perfectly candid, it means a little more coming from you."
He goes to respond when your attention is ripped away by one of your friends telling you it's time to go.
You turn back to him with an apologetic smile and even though you're still right in front of him, he already misses you.
"Can I get your number?"
He's nervous as he asks, another new revelation. Usually, he's smooth and practiced. However, the idea of you turning him down makes his stomach lurch.
"About time."
He pulls out his phone and watches as you text yourself a heart so you have his number as well before you turn away and saunter off into the night.
Rafe doesn't even make it thirty minutes before texting you, any thoughts about it being too soon overpowered by his desire to see you again.
His heart soars when you respond almost instantly, equally as eager to talk to him.
How's the rest of your night going?
He shoots it off without a second thought, genuinely interested in the answer. He frowns when you text back immediately.
Shitty, to be honest. Got dragged to this party and I'm bored, but don't have a ride home.
He types out his reply and hits send without considering that it may be creepy.
Send me your location, I'll come get you.
He watches as three bubbles pop up and then disappear, that new nerve-racking feeling overtaking him once again.
At the party, you stare down at the screen and contemplate your options. You're really not having a good time, but letting a man you met two hours ago pick you up doesn't seem wise.
Still, something in your core that you can't explain trusts him and you finally answer. You don't bother telling him he doesn't have to, something in you just knows that he doesn't mind.
Rafe jumps off the bar stool and beelines toward his rover when it pops up that you shared your location and he starts toward the address that's wedged between the cut and figure eight.
He hops out and is instantly hit with the stench of beer and weed, loud bass causing his chest to vibrate.
His face scans the crowd for your face as he weaves through drunk idiots doing keg stands and yelling a little too loudly.
He finds it in seconds, and his feet carry him forward as if they have a mind of their own.
You smell him before you see him, his expensive cologne that smells like vanilla and whiskey cutting through the sweat and vodka.
"Hey, pretty girl."
Your heart leaps at the pet name, and you have a feeling it's just the first of many.
"You actually came."
Part of you believed he was bluffing, but you're beginning to realize that when Rafe says something he means it.
"You called."
Something about the simple statement gives you goosebumps. He said it with such conviction; as if he'd find you even if you were across the ocean on another continent.
You shoot your friends a quick text to let them know you're leaving before grabbing your bag and standing.
You try not to focus on the way your skin burns as he places his hand on the small of your back to lead you away, the gesture feeling too natural for someone you don't even know.
Rafe drives you home, comfortable conversation flowing with ease the entire ride.
You try, and fail, not to swoon when he walks you to your door and kisses you on the cheek. You're not usually the type to kiss on the first night, but if he'd asked, you'd have taken him straight up to your room and let him do whatever he wanted.
You fall asleep easily, your psyche filled with images of a blue-eyed man that swept you off your feet.
The next week is filled with non-stop texting and time spent surfing as the two of you grow closer.
You've come to the conclusion that you were right; Rafe is massively misunderstood.
He's confided in you about things he's never told a soul, and as ridiculous as it sounds, you could easily find yourself falling for him.
He's told you all about his abusive father and the pressure he's under, about how his mom died when he was ten, and how he feels like he's always the second choice.
You don't tell him that he'd never be your second choice, how you'd choose him first in a crowd of a hundred million people.
Instead, you lend a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, something else Rafe has never done before you.
You're sat on the beach between his legs now as sand digs into your bare thighs, but it's a small price to pay to be in his arms.
It's an unusually hot day, the sun rays beating down harshly on your glistening skin. You've just finished surfing, now relaxing as the two of you hydrate with ice-cold Gatorade and much on cheez its.
Your back is pressed into his firm chest comfortably, his free hand snaked around your front and resting just below your belly button.
"You know," he starts and you shift to lay your head so you're peering up at him. His eyes stay focused on the waves ahead, eyes swirling with an emotion you don't recognize.
"I've never met anyone like you. You make me feel safe and calm. All the noise in my head fades away and I'm at peace finally."
He pauses and you wait patiently for him to continue, pressing a chaste kiss to his bare pec as silent encouragement.
"You make me feel special. Like I'm worth it."
Your heart clenches at the admission and you turn around fully so you're seated in his lap. His arms wrap around your waist as if it's second nature, and your hands come up to gently grasp his jaw.
"You are worth it, Rafe. I'm sorry the people who are supposed to love you have made you feel like you aren't."
You don't miss the way tears gather on his waterline and you lean forward slowly, giving him time to pull away.
When he doesn't, you continue and the world stops on his axis as your lips mold with his.
Everything else melts away and your mouths move in sync, only the two do you existing in this little bubble.
Your ears tune out the sounds of seagulls crying and screaming kids, the heat from the unforgiving sun giving way to electricity that sparks every nerve ending in your body.
His tongue tangles with yours, the flavor of spearmint and fruit punch mingling on your tastebuds.
You pull back and give him one last short kiss before returning to your original resting position, both of you desperately attempting to catch your breath.
One month is all it took to officially become Rafe's girlfriend. You told each other your darkest and silliest secrets, quiet whispers and unspoken promises in the dark of the night. He became your best friend and boyfriend, consuming all your senses.
Two months is when you gave yourself to him completely, sweaty bodies writhing in unison under fairy lights and the glow of the moon. You would have given in much sooner, but Rafe insisted on taking it slow, wanting to do it right. You're glad he did, the wait was worth it.
Three months in, you introduce each other to your friends and family. Ward actually took a liking to you immediately, boasting about how good you've been for his son. You found a sister in Sarah, the two of you having girl's days regularly and laughing at Rafe's expense. Your parents and friends accepted Rafe with ease, him finding the father figure he always craved in your dad.
Four months is when you finally said what you've both been feeling since week five. A quiet confession while tangled together as a movie played in the background.
"I'm in love with you." You whisper it so quietly, your voice thick with emotion.
"I'm in love with you too. So much so that it's maddening."
Five months into your whirlwind relationship, the two of you moved in together. Rafe was itching to get away from Tannyhill, and in a shock to you both, Ward offered up one of the estates to be your new home.
It's your safe space, a perfect combination of the two of you with carefully chosen throw pillows and pictures lining the walls.
Six months is when you knew without a shadow of a doubt you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Rafe by your side. The two of you are well established now, the honeymoon phase long past and replaced with a much sturdier and ironclad love and respect.
Seven months in, Rafe surprised you with a two-week-long vacation. It's an all-inclusive trip to Italy, the time spent sightseeing and eating local cuisine that still makes your mouth water.
Eight months is how long it took for him to convince you to quit your job and let him take care of you. It doesn't take much persuading by this point, you know that he's not going anywhere and you trust him when he says you'll never lift a finger again.
Nine months in, he takes you on another trip; this time a month-long adventure in Greece. You see the world and he buys you anything you show the slightest interest in. You're happy and comfortable, more content with your life than you ever imagined.
Ten months after your chance meeting, he buys you a new car. He'd absolutely insisted that you deserve the best of the best and your old beat-up Civic doesn't meet the mark. You cried, and the two of you drove up the coast for a blissful long weekend.
Eleven months is when Rafe planned an elaborate party and dropped to one knee. You nearly collapsed with joy as he placed the four-carat Cartier diamond on your left hand and celebrated with your closest friends and family.
That night was spent in bed talking about the future, shared desires of having kids, and settling in OBX. It took you a while to wrap your head around the fact that at just twenty-one and twenty-two years old, you'd found the one you belong with.
Twelve months after your friends forced you to go out, you eloped and married your best friend. One year is all it took for you to believe in soulmates, and become a Cameron. In 365 days, your life did a 180 and you're married with a new Lexus and a house that's more than you could have dreamed of.
But really, all it took was ten seconds for your life to change forever.
#Rafe Cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#outer banks
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5th Annual TF Story Exchange - for Jockifyme
G’day :) I wanted to challenge myself so I entered the TF Story Exchange to force myself to write something. The author I got for the exchange was @jockifyme so please enjoy. I hope I met your requirements @jockifyme .
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I’m an accountant and sometimes we audit High Schools. We make sure that the donations or funds received go places they should be going to, we check payroll and budget; we call it “cash stuff” in the office because “expenses” and “finances” start confusing our smaller-minded Gen Z workers.
From that “defame our younger generation” comment alone, you should be able to tell that I am older – not too much but I feel myself reaching the other end of my thirties really quickly. Luckily, the stresses of older age haven’t touched me too much; I have my curly brown hair, though it is fading in colour just like my eyes which used to be emerald, now swamp. Got my height from my mum, she was six-three and she gave me my current six-one. Got my metabolism (or lack thereof) from my dad whose genes garunteed no weight would be gained – I was skinny, a measly one-forty pounds.
The lights in the schools office behind reception showed my touch-of-sunburn off more than I wanted to, my skin naturally pale like a ghost flared up with areas of red where I misapplied my sunscreen. I, however, didn’t feel the burn so the sun must’ve been somewhat lacklustre that day. Sunburn was the last thing on my mind anyway. Numbers, numbers, numbers. I enjoyed the numbers and I did well in maths back when I was in school some blah blah blah years ago – I’d rather not say how long – and was in the top ten of students in my school who graded highly during the final exams before graduation. The only part I hated was listening to the administration guy who lightly flirted with the teachers as they walked by. They couldn’t see it but the “that dress fits nice on you” and “did you forget your glasses because those eyes are shining today” commends he has said in the past ten minutes were dangerously close to the line of being fired should someone actually pay attention to him.
I continued my counts and record-checking and, soon enough, the admin guy was talking to me about football. I never got into that kind of thing, my focus was more on work and work and work. I didn’t need to watch a bunch of men running into each other, the idea was stupid to me. Yet, despite my disinterest in the topic, the admin guy continued to drone on about it.
I looked at my watch; I had only been here for an hour. All the kids were in their classes so, gladly, I decided to quickly take a break and get a drink. Stupidly, I forgot my water bottle and I didn’t want to deal with more dead conversation from the admin guy and, as I recalled, I remembered there being a bubbler/water fountains near the building facing the oval. With a quick “I’ll be back” to the admin guy, and a swift exit, I was out the door and headed towards the oval, a quick hello and hi to some teachers passing or students that were supposed to be in class. Reaching the bubbler, there was footsteps nearby and voices loudly talking. I leaned down, pulled the lever and started drinking, footsteps getting closer. The closer it got, the more I heard the topic of conversation.
‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do, man,’ one started. ‘Tyler’s out for the game tonight and we got no backup since Harry left.’
‘Cool it, Reid!’ another cut the first off. ‘We’ll find someone or deal with a short team no matter what coach says.’
‘Yeah, but where are we gonna find something so short notice, Jay?’ A third asked. I had become invested in the conversation that I didn’t realise that they were now walking behind me as I was still drinking from the bubbler until they stopped.
‘How about you?’ Jay asked.
It took me a minute to realise he was talking to me. I stopped drinking and turned around and was greeted by four teens in football gear. ‘You talking to me?’
‘We are looking at you,’ pointed the fourth.
‘Smart kid, though I don’t go here clearly.’ I gestured to my whole figure, hoping they weren’t dumb enough to think I was any younger than thirty-five.
‘Not a problem with us.’ Jay, who I assumed was the leader, stepped forward. ‘I’m Jay, and these are my bros Reid, Mikey and Kyle.’ He gestured to his friends as if I was interested in knowing them. Jay was short, wide and brunette; Reid was tall, thin and blonde; Mikey was tall, tan and built; Kyle was the shortest, brunette and athletic. The group did seem like the perfect popular boys of school, they just lacked more arrogance.
‘How would you expect to fix that?’ I questioned. ‘Compared to you guys, I’m weathered. Y’all haven’t even touched hard work yet.’ That comment seemed to irritate Reid, subtly puffing his chest up.
‘Hard work? Football is full time!’ Reid arched up.
‘Reid, not another word,’ Jay snapped. ‘You’ll only scare him away, and we’re already about to get scary.’
‘Oh, I’m shaking.’ I teased before rolling my eyes and started walking back to the office.
‘Take him,’ I heard Jay mutter.
Soon, three pairs of hands were on me and started to pull at me, dragging me in the opposite direction. I started shouting to let me go and, for a moment I thought why it was suddenly so quiet at the school; no students or teachers were walking by and no one seemed to look out the windows at the commotion I was causing. No matter how much I shouted and wriggled, the guys’ strong hands had firm grips. I looked behind me to where they were dragging me and found that they were taking me to the locker rooms. They barged in, pushed me to the bench and sat me down, Reid and Kyle holding me down while Mikey went off to grab something.
‘We’re gonna make sure you’re ready for the game tonight,’ Jay said matter-of-factly.
Mikey returned with football gear which I began to question myself about how stupid they really are. Jay motioned to Reid and Kyle as Mikey came to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Without warning, Reid and Kyle started to pull at my clothes, tearing my button up off and yanking my shoes off before pulling off my pinstripes. I tried to fight back with all of my strength but Mikey was stronger than he looks, making sure to hold me in place during the process. At the end of it, I was left in my briefs.
‘Let me go you freaks!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t know what you plan on doing but it needs to end now!’
Jay motioned to the football uniform and gear and Kyle and Reid moved almost immediately. Reid began with what looked like compression shorts, sliding them up my legs until they were on properly. I felt immediate embarrassment being dressed as if I couldn’t do it myself. When the compression shorts snapped into place, my legs felt like they were burning although bearable. No sooner did my legs start burning that Kyle had put on long socks and oversized football boots, and the burning spread down until it reached my feet. My whole lower half was on fire and, sure enough, when I looked down, I saw why. My thighs started to plump up, calves sharpening and I felt my toes touch the end of the boot. Soon as that began, Reid grabbed a compression singlet and slid it over my head and over my torso, Kyle soon following with the shoulder pads.
I was panicked, my whole body starting to feel like I’d worked out for hours, and my body was catching up. My torso bulked up, a bit of muscle showing as my chest puffed up and my biceps blew up. My flexed forearms had a roadmap of veins as my increasingly meaty hands gripped firmly on the bench. I was beginning to tire myself out through all the strain and flexing I was doing due to the pain of the growth. At some point, Jay told Mikey to let me go because he knew I wasn’t going anywhere, not that I could because of the amount of pain I was in.
Soon enough, as it had started to die down, I looked over myself while out of breath and saw how toned I got. I was in shock; something completely impossible just happened. When I looked up to the group, there was glee in their eyes, but mine saw red. I had no energy to do anything, though, exhausted from the growth.
‘What the fuck did you do?’ I gasped between breaths.
‘It’s not over,’ Jay said. ‘Look at me.’
He grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at him directly in the eyes. He smiled before swiping some black paint onto my cheeks, and then he let go of my chin and stepped back. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, but it hit seconds later. I gripped my head and squeezed my eyes shut as images flashed across my vision of school, football, training, hanging out with the bros. Bros? No, I was an adult. I was here for an audit. No, that doesn’t sound right? I was on the oval with my bros talking about the game. No! The admin guy, we were talking about football while I was doing work… work? No, I was skipping class. My brain went back and forth and soon enough, the school-kid persona was taking over. All the games my bros and I played, the games we won and the after-parties we went to. My body, face, and mind were all getting younger. My hair turned a darker brown, keeping the curls, and my eyes had regained their shining emerald green. My sunburn cleared up and my skin looked tanned from spending weeks in the sun. Although keeping the muscle on, my body shrank a little and smoothed out. After all of a few minutes, my head cleared and my body no longer felt like it was burning. I felt completely painless, in fact, I had a lot of energy.
‘You good, Jack?’ asked Reid.
I looked up at the group, a brief pause before nodding my head. ‘Still mad Tyler can’t make it.’
‘Well, we gotchu at least,’ Mikey pointed out. ‘We’ll sure win tonight.’
‘We always win, bros!’
‘That’s the spirit!’ Jay cheered. ‘Now let’s get practicing! Don’t forget your jersey, Jack.’
I looked down at the bench where my jersey was. I grabbed it and slipped it on, unknowingly sealing the transformation. ‘Do we gotta wear the shoulder pads during training?’ I complained.
‘Shut up and get out there!’
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Why do you make me feel this way? - Chapter 11: Abide
"So, what's next for us?" Astarion smiled. "The world's our oyster, and she has many pearls we can choose from. I honestly don't mind what we do, once we get - ow! What the –"
The vampire spawn flinched with a yelp. His skin hurt, prickling like red ants, like he'd burned himself on a fire. Astarion stared at his hands and realised in utter terror that he was starting to burn in the sunlight. His first instinct was to run and duck. But he wasn't the only one who realised his dire situation. Tav ripped her cloak off to throw it over Astarion's head while Shadowheart cast darkness above them. Gale called upon the Weave and portalled them right back to their room in the Elfsong Tavern. Astarion squatted in the corner furthest away from the window. He was shaking with adrenaline, fear, and anger. Gale closed the curtains, while Shadowheart and Halsin joined forces to heal the vampire spawn's scorched flesh.
"Why? Why am I damned to hide in the shadows again? I should have ascended!"
Astarion clenched his fist, curled into a ball, and started to weep. He hated it; feeling helpless and powerless again. Tav hugged him.
"Even though the sun burns you again, it's not the same as before," she told him, "because this time, you aren't alone and not under Cazador's thumb."
Astarion lifted his head to look at her, tears blurring his vision. Tav stroke his hair, held him close, and comforted: "This time, we join you in the shadows."
She started humming that soothing melody again and Astarion let himself be lulled by it.
Tav was right; he wasn't alone anymore. Astarion remembered his conversation with her on the rooftop when she'd pleaded him to stay with her. The bard wouldn't leave him and he wouldn't leave her. With a sigh, Astarion relaxed his tense muscles and leaned against Tav's broad shoulder who kept humming to him and kissed his cheek. Gale, Halsin and Shadowheart joined them on the floor with pillows, making themselves comfortable.
"There's something alluring about resting during the day," the archdruid mused, looking up at the grained wooden ceiling. "It's as time slows down for you while the rest of the world keeps running."
"Poetic," Gale remarked. "Back in Waterdeep, I liked to spent the mornings watching the ships leave the harbour. It's truly a majestic feeling to have the privilege to rest while others must go on with their day."
"I don't remember much of my past," Shadowheart chimed in, "but I remember how much I liked getting lost in a good book. Time stood still for me, but when I looked up from my reading, hours had passed without me noticing."
"It sounds very tempting and nice in theory, but I'll never be able to walk in the sun again," Astarion muttered.
"Then, let's walk in the moonlight instead," Tav replied, encouragingly stroking his hand. "I tend to get a sunburn anyway."
Astarion snickered.
"Thanks for cheering me up, darlings. You make me feel much better."
"Good," said Tav.
The merry bunch of weirdos stayed in their spacious room, napping the day away. Turns out, both Tav and Halsin made wonderful pillows. Astarion snuggled against Tav's shoulder, listening to the noise outside their room, and smirked when Gale began to snore.
Perhaps, life in the shadows wasn't as dreary as he feared after all.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#fanfic#astarion#astarion ancunin#halsin#gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#shadowheart#tav#the ending we deserve#we were robbed so I fixed it myself
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write literally anything with dwayne go crazy do what you want i am so starved for content i am begging on my knees like that of a mere peasant
Absolutely will do queen here's a stupid little one-shot for you
Walk This Way (Just Gimme a Kiss)
TLB Dwayne/Fem!Reader Fluff
"Wasn't me she was foolin'
'Cause she knew what she was doin'
And I know love is here to stay
When she told me to walk this way! Walk this way!"
The music was tinny and compressed through the tacky tourist souvenir shop. Even over Aerosmith and the low murmur of the frothing summer boardwalk crowd outside the narrow doorway, the distant roar of the surf was audible.
You ran fingers through the waterfall waves of custom-name keychains, nodding and sideling to the side so a wandering polo-clad tourist could pass you in the front aisle. All tourists stood out like sore thumbs when you knew what to look for. Red-flash sunburns, fat brimmed golf sun visors, dressing like their plane was aiming for Hawaii and crash-landed on the California coast instead. All sure-fire signs of non-locals.
People nobody would kick up a major fuss over. It was Santa Carla after all: officers and neighbors would tut and shake their heads, muttering about how the city got so dangerous at night, how they should have been more careful.
Dwayne always loved how sharp an eye you had. Little hawk, he'd called you once. The other boys had laughed and hooted, repeating it mockingly, but you liked it. Damn if that hadn't made you preen for the rest of the night.
Lone tourist clocked, you scanned the crowded tchotchke store for the familiar face you were so accustomed to, but caught a glimpse of salt-worn leather instead. Dwayne was bent over a display.
"Hey." Hands in the pockets of your denim vest, you knocked at him with an elbow. "C'mon. I've got eyes on dinner."
Dwayne slowly turned around. His expression was stoic, impassive and serious, framed by dark hair. And perched on the bridge of his strong nose, like a majestic tropical bird? The most garish pair of sunglasses you'd ever laid eyes on. Semitranluscent lime-green plastic flecked with gargantuan sparkles and black shiny lenses, all capped off with twin painted palm trees that grew up from the frame corners.
Your entire face was scrunching up in a vain attempt at neutrality. "Lookin' cool."
A beat of silence.
"...Cool." He echoed. His brows slowly raised above the frames.
You lost it, laughing into the back of your hand and swiping at his face to get rid of the horrid things. He ducked your clumsy human swipes easy enough, fingers only finding open air, before breaking into a slow, warm smile and plucking them off his own face. Dwayne settled the eyewear behind your ears and dropped it down onto your nose with a thunk.
"Wow. Thank you." You tried to deadpan, diaphragm still spasming. When he flicked some of your hair to the side, settling it around the arms of the glasses, you let him, figuring he was trying to salvage the look. But then he plopped a hot, broad palm on the crown of your head and mussed your locks and you squawked, batting him away.
Dwayne always laughed so low and warm, like a big cat. "You look stupid." He told you, satisfied.
"Oh yeah, who's fault is that?" You grumbled, yanking off the glasses and shaking your mane out in a vain attempt at returning it to normalcy. As you did so, Dwayne let filament-fine strands of your hair filter through his fingers almost possessively. He waited for you to set the glasses down on the rack before closing the few inches of space between you and craning his head down for a kiss.
Not so much a request, but a demand. One you eagerly conceded to. Dwayne was... oomph. A wall of force. A bull, a heavyweight, a tsunami, and that was on a good day. He was David's first pick for throwing a punch in a gang fight, and with good reason: you could feel strength almost humming inside him like a live wire. Passing like a current through his soft mouth, though his fine layer of stubble that rasped against your upper lip.
There were fingers messing with your vest pocket. The sunglasses returned to your posession. "Keep 'em." Dwayne rolled a noise in the back of his throat, pulling back just enough to look down at you through thick lashes. "It'll be your disguise."
"Disguise. Sure." Your voice cracked for a second: he made you crazy with alarming frequency. You could swear your tongue was buzzing where he had nudged it so softly, so fucking suavely, with the tip of his own a second ago. Fucking tease.
"Yeah. Put them on, you're some random goonie. Take them off, and you're my favorite girl again." He flashed you that smug, shit-eating smile, the smile that said I know I'm all that, I know I'm six feet of all the shit that makes you weak. I always know exactly what to say to you.
You opened your mouth. You closed it again. Dwayne's dark eyes twinkled. "Dinner's leaving." You croaked out eventually.
He hummed. "Fast food. Sounds good."
Then he was off like a shot, smooth-paced striding across the store and flowing around obstacles like water, and you were scrambling after him. The hunter and his loyal little hunting hawk. Tale as old as time, right?
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ATEEZ
Credit to writers
masterlist
OT8
Sharing is caring ( S )
Phone call interruption
Ateez as bf
Good mornings
Ateez as boyfriends
You being horny
Headcanons masterlist
Being shy during first time
Asking them to massage your sore boobs
Domesticity
When you snuggle down into their lap
Reactions masterlist
Imagines masterlist
Boyfriend things
Seeing their s/o crying for the first time
Naps with Ateez
Ateez as soft dom ( S )
When they say something to hurt you ( A )
How they take your panties off ( S )
Asking for cuddles after a bad day ( F )
Bedroom mishaps
HONGJOONG
All of your first with Hongjoong ( F, S )
Touch me now ( S )
Hero ( F )
Dom!Hongjoong ( S )
Corruption ( S )
Pretty ( S )
SEONGHWA
11:20 ( S )
Illuminate the ocean
Pirate au ( A, F )
Praise and body worship, first times ( S, F )
His sweet girl ( S )
A small secret ( S )
An apology - laundry ( H/C )
Seonghwa x reader ( S )
Always and forever ( S )
22:11 ( F )
Lingerie ( S )
Breath play ( S )
Home ( S )
Winter morning ( S )
Golden hour serie
Seonghwa reacts to his s/o being in pain because of her period ( F )
Make it up to you ( S )
Tease ( S )
Bathtub sex ( S )
First time ( S )
Blinding pavlov ( A )
After a bad day ( F; S )
YUNHO
Yunho as dom ( S )
Mirror sex ( S )
Good morning ( S )
YEOSANG
All on your tongue ( S )
Too tired ( S )
SAN
Nipple play/praise ( S )
Strawberry kisses ( S, F )
Trust me ( S )
Together ( A, F )
Let me ruin you ( S )
Teach me ( S )
Conforting San when he’s jealous ( F )
I’ll take care of you ( S )
Say my name ( S )
Says the guy that just made that happen ( S )
Dom!san drabble ( S )
Taking care of you ( S )
Soft dom + subspace ( S )
3am ( S )
In the quiet spaces ( S )
10:49 pm ( F )
Hugging during sex ( S )
22:06 ( S )
Pirate au ( F )
My idol ( F )
Sing for me ( S, F )
An apology - silence ( H/C )
Push and pull serie
3:00 ( S )
Panic attack ( F )
Pool ( F, A )
Vanilla sex ( S )
Boyfriend headcanon
Boyfriend!San
I hate you ( S )
Somnophilia ( S )
Still into you ( A, F )
Hair pulling + kitchen sex ( S )
Aftercare ( F )
Collision - Hogwarts au ( A, F )
Beautiful hearts ( S, A, F )
Wanna be yours ( S, F )
불타오르네 (Fire!) ( S, F, A )
불타오르네 (Fire!) [ 2 ]
Bad day ( F )
Your fan
Bad day ( F )
Morning sex ( S )
Habit ( F )
Mirror sex/knife play ( S )
Time off ( S )
Sunburn ( F )
Take a break ( s )
MINGI
Walk away ( A )
WOOYOUNG
23:16 ( F )
12:53 am ( F )
Everything finds its place ( S, F )
Aftercare for subs ( F )
Tease ( S )
Lovely ( S )
5:31 ( S )
All mine ( S, F )
Kiss it better ( F )
Trust me ( S )
JONGHO
6:18 ( F )
Raw relaxation ( F; S )
Romantic ( S )
#ateez#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader
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15 fe bru ar y 2023 Wednesday 2:23 am pdt
Incubus is mean enough to lie about children. He made me think gio is my daughter & the new born is my son. I think I have been burning up too hot all last year to probably be able to conceive. 2:25 am pdt I just can’t believe anymore. Did anyone else see gio’s baby reel of her crying when they turn off Adam’s music? Did it first look blue then it looked brown? Her eyes? I don’t believe 2 blue eyed or green (brain pain 🧠 cutting I don’t like the way they cut it 😖😭🥵😱😰😞I don’t know if it got cut off! Chopped off!! 😭😰😱2:29 am pdt) they cannot make brown eyes 👀. If you have painted 🎨 you know you need an extra color to mix in to get brown. 2:31 pmpdt b4 news 📰 of the baby 👶 welcoming they made me hear 👂 a baby 👶 cry 😭 (hunger 2:32 am pdt) & yesterday & day b4 made me smell 👃 like baby poop 💩 & diapers. They’re really BAD. When I barricaded the bedroom 🛌 door 🚪 last year Bcz I got distressed? At how they were hurting me? I think? They played a baby crying sound in my head to make me think gio was crying & wanted 2 see me. 2:35 am pdt he did this also by showing a black haired little girl laying lazily tired 😴 in the sand at the 🏖 beach as if she was tired Bcz she was up all night visiting me. 2:37 am pdt I don’t believe them (head pain 2:38 am pdt) anymore. They’d say & do anything to make me believe them. I can’t stand ‘em. 2:38 am pdt
2:46 am pdt 2:47 incubus attacked my intestines? Or flesh area (neeart autocorrect nearby beware authorities 2:49 am pdt are u saying police 👮♀️ are here? Probably same police 👮♀️ who said Sierra LaMar s account was hacked/hoax asking for help In Saratoga? They liars 🤥 those police 👮♀️ are I bet 2:51 am pdt I bet they’re kidnappers 2:51 am pdt & car 🚗 thiefs)
2:55 am pdt 🤯wow I found an article back dated to April 19 2012 about the hoax I never found b4 saying they traced it to the Philippines 🇵🇭???? I skimmed it. Mayb I should look at that again. & something about “by the way, we do punch” ??? I need to look at that again nbc. I need to write the url Bcz I looked at a lot of articles & I think I would have recalled such a bizarre article b4. Wow. Must be the real kidnapper hacking nbc. That’s weird. 2:58 am pdt
3:02 am pdt https://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/detectives-seek-to-find
-Sierra-lamars-hoax-tweeter/1944744/
3:04 am pdt
4:13 am pdt they’re incubus being extra jerks again. Extra extra. They make me cry 😭 & then they manipulate me. Flip flop 🩴. Mean, then flip to manipulate me using love 💕 💗such as a baby 👶 cry, Etc. 😖😭incubus put hard painful balls of air coming up my throat when I try to breathe 🧘🏻♀️ in, even though I have to cough b4 I can breathe 🧘🏻♀️ after they burn 🔥 me. 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵🤬😫😖😭😖😭😖😭😖😭😵😵😵😵 4:18 am pdt
4:50 am pdt I don’t believe in the walking 🚶🏿♀️ through fire 🔥 & surviving. It might be a mirage at best 😱😰.
4:52 am pdt I guess people are afraid to help me Bcz of ghost 👻 ship 🚢 fire 🔥 in Oakland December 2, 2016. A david died, uc Berkeley graduate 👨🎓 I think double major? I remember 2 guys names caught my attention but I don’t remember exactly anymore. Incubus has burned my skin so it looks sunburned. Any hotter & I will be gone/dead. 4:55 am pdt David = dowd = Susan boyles. I guess it is a threat to me. 4:56 am pdt one of the guys was a brother of an aqauintance I met @ uc Berkeley. 4:57 am pdt I don’t think 🤔 they would have known anything but who knows, maybe they did. 4:57 am pdt & incubus killed them off as a warning ⚠️ to me. Warning ⛔️ wore I think I looked it up last year or the year b4 & saw it used to address ? sailboats ⛵️ ... apart of original family name. Peter Pan ride at Disney land was my favorite ride when I was a kid. 5 am pdt I don’t recall what abba means when I first looked it up but that was part of the name (right side too hot 🥵 nauseas b4 writing felt acid 2xs this morning touch inches at a time of intestinal wall. 😱😰😞😖😭😤🥵😤🥵🤬 I don’t like them they’re all conceited jerks 5:03 am pdt) of the yeshua who was forgiven & allowed to live even though he murdered people & was violent while yeshua son of Joseph was crucified that’s what I read online. 5:04 am pdt listening 👂 to something random my mom picked from online. 5:05 am pdt
5:15 am pdt the spikes feel too big wide. Reminds me of tenderizer meat 🥩 hammer 🔨 into my brain 🧠. They hurt what’s in the inside Bcz it’s more destructive. More death ☠️. 5:17 am pdt
they set up a pattern of lying 🤥 to me flip flopping to normalize it & to accept it. It buys them time for false promises. It is deception. They should not be trusted. Not trustworthy . I don’t trust them. They’re dead? ☠️ found dead bodies right? 5:20 am pdt
5:22 am pdt they rely on my naïveté? Naïve ness to trick me. They want me to believe they rescued them from the fire 🔥 5:23
5:24 am pdt brain 🧠 hot 🥵 they really are sacrificing me. This economy is evil 🦹♀️ & will continue to be evil after I’m dead. Rape & murder & torture will continue for the masses all 8 billion. 5:35 yyoutr all wicked evil fucks. 5:25 am pdt
5:35 am pdt Jesus was said to be sacrificial lamb 🐑. Are lambs gentle? Gentlemen? So some stuff is fake news 📰 theme saying otherwise but he’s a lunatic for believing goodwill save him? Even though he put him prob through hardship being a carpenter & having to hide himself from baby killers like herod. Lived in poverty & probably chaste? Pious? What does pious mean? Life growing up w/ Virgin Mary & churchy? Saintly? Grandparents & parents? Idk 🤷🏻♀️ still need to read more! 5:39 am pdt you sacrifice lambs & keep the bad for 2000++++++ years? Humans around for how long? 70000 years???? 5:39 am pdt I don’t get it. He wants to burn my brain now cuz he labels this as haughty Bcz he wants most of us to be satisfied with less nearly povert level living torture abused existence 5:40 am pdt he doesn’t want anyone to be smart enough to know what’s happening is all wrong? But some people do know it’s all wrong & do stuf anyway such as child rape! 5:41 am pdt justify it now! Tell me why now! 11 years old! Masturbating next to elementary school caught b4 it happened! Rape of a 14 year old!!!! Ignored by society!!!!! That means doctors 🥼 are guilty? 5:43 greedy fucks?????? Burning 🔥 hip right side. I warned my cousin when she was 9 years old to watch out for “confused adults.” Some people become confused 🤷🏻♀️ & easily manipulated by the devil. Some people are the devil 😈. 5:46 am pdt
7:55 am pdt had heart ♥️ pain minutes ago. Ok big reveal biggest reveals that I’m a sum bag dirty cheat greedy whatever: I once tried to get my sister to agree to a bad deal when we were elementary school aged? I remember it was at a person s house that I played w/ Barbie dolls ... & across the street from this house b4 fourth grade photos I fell from the tallest bar attempting to do a cherry 🍒 drop (brain pain 😖😭😤🥵 7:59 am pdt) but failed! It was probably sometime after this that I wanted to play with some specific pieces of LEGO’s . That’s right, LEGO’s! I wanted to see what I could build with this pieces so I tried to make a deal, u can play w/ those pieces & I can play w/ these & then tomorrow we will switch. But I probably had bad intentions of hogging all the pieces the next day. I don’t remember, I feel like that was in my head. Somehow I think she figured out it was a bad deal immediately and said “i don’t care” I guess I’m a mean kid Bcz I think what I did next made her cry. Maybe I took the pieces forcefully 😓 then the lady who was watching us called me a “pig.” & I don’t think I did it again. I feel like there were a lot of times I was greedy with toys 🧸. Although I think I have memories of also being nice. I feel greedy. & mean. Once we did cooperate b4 my parents separated & built a woman’s restroom out of tinker toys 🧸 that was supposed to kick 🦵 out men. 8:07 am pdt we did not know about cross dressers & transsexuals then. 8:07 am pdt we played dolls & video games together & watched cartoons together. & when inspector gadget came on we hid behind the couch 🛋 together to pop out & surprise dad when he came home. 🏠 maybe I am bad. 8:11 am pdt I guess I did it the wrong way. I wonder 💭 how Ivanka trump managed to take the whole set of LEGO’s to build a tower w/ press on nail glue. She didn’t upset her siblings when she did it? I guess maybe they had more than one set so she didn’t have to fight over anything with them. 8:13 am pdt I should have never made my sister cry. Happy? Karma for not letting her borrow my if (identification 8:16 am pdt) card is I lost it ≈2020. 8:13 am pdt
9:44 am pdt I think I omitted a detail: LEGO’s pieces I was going to let her use were not very good pieces small type probably trying to remember. 😓😬 9:46 am pdt
9:56 am pdt Instagram suspended my account again. I don’t know why 🤷🏻♀️
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I have been super busy recently and have like 5 things I need to respond to (if ur a friend waiting on a message, I'm sorry, I plan on responding tomorrow)(too much stuff at work)(haven't finished all the homework, unprepared for tomorrow), but, right now.
I'm about to fall asleep, my window is cracked open. (It was raining a couple of hours ago. It was too nice to listen to not to) but now the rain has ended, and I hear. Crickets. Singing tonight after the rain.
Today and yesterday and the day before were all in the 70s. Before that it was a week or so of chilly, 50s in the daytime weather. Break out the sweater, wam-weather transplants wear coats weather. But today and yesterday and the day before, all 70s. (79 yesterday, 77 today.)
And there are crickets.
Tomorrow the weather dips. We might not get another 70s day until spring. (Or a random Tuesday in mid November, this is Michigan after all). And this might be the last night I hear the crickets for the year.
I'm listening to them now. They're not too loud. To many, they might be annoying (that's fine, I don't blame you, I get it. But I like the crickets and the cicadas and the rain, but the birds squeaking in the tree outside my window at 6am in the summer can fuck off), but for me, it sounds like the feeling of someone gently running fingers through my hair. It sounds like it feels when you touch a small creature (makes sense, crickets are small). It sounds like the smell of my grandparents house where I spent summers, but far less blisteringly hot (even at night, the stone retained the heat) where the beds might have been a little less comfortable, but the sheets felt good on sunburned, aloe-cooled skin. It feels like sharing space with someone while we nap after a long morning doing things in the late spring (yardwork, when the sun got hotter than I thought it would and we need a break), or like the sound of cars driving slowly through the neighborhood (side-streets, someone not wanting to wake the neighborhood so they drive slowly. It's the 90s so they won't text someone they made it home but they'll make it home). I half expect to hear the train that I remember, 30 minutes walk downtown from my home growing up. I heard it well on nights like this, when I'd have the window open, listening to the crickets and enjoying the cool night air. The crickets sound like hanging around the fire pit with friends or cousins, chatting quietly for too long. The fire is just smouldering ashes now, we have our hoodies on, but we are too content to go inside.
I prefer the rain, but this is nice. The last crickets of the year. (Probably). A Small Happiness contains the same happiness as a Big Happiness. Little joys and big joys are joy all the same. And this little ember, I will hold close to my chest as I walk on to find the kidnling.
I am very tired.
#i am very tired but i wantex to pud this somewhere for bow until i think of somshre vetter to put it#good nigjt
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First Burn
Rowaelin Month, day 20 & 21: playing with magic AND Rowan, Aelin, and toddler princess. Canon. Combined two prompts because 1) I am lazy and 2) I have a paper due soon and I shall need to give that my attention.
Word count: 1085
Warnings: couple of naughty words, one adorable Fae child
E N J O Y!
~~~~~
Aelin woke up to an empty bed, the imprint of Rowan’s body still on the mattress. Yawning, she reached down the bond and felt for her mate’s location.
And smiled when the tether between their souls pointed to the training yard.
Buzzard, why are you training so early?
It’s nearly ten, Fireheart; I wouldn’t call that early.
I would.
He chuckled. When you manage to pull yourself out of bed, come down here. There’s something Lyria and I want to show you.
Lyria’s down there with you?!
Fireheart--
Our four-year-old is in the training yard?!
Aelin--
You brought our toddler down to the training yard and didn’t tell me?!
AELIN.
Halfway out the door, she paused. What?
I promise you that our daughter is perfectly fine and perfectly safe. She’s well away from the training ring, and Aedion is watching her.
Aelin relaxed. I’m still not exactly pleased you brought her down…but I’m not panicking.
Good. She heard the relief in his voice. Oh, and don’t forget to actually get dressed before you come downstairs.
She looked down, finally registering that she was wearing one of Rowan’s shirts.
And nothing else.
Would you mind terribly if I walked into the yard like this?
He swallowed. Hard. I wouldn’t, Fireheart, but we aren’t alone.
Pity, that. I’ll be down in ten minutes.
~
Precisely ten minutes later, Aelin entered the training yard, clad in a simple tunic, leggings, and comfortable boots, her hair braided down her back. No sooner had she stepped into the area than a little blur of excitement launched at her.
“Mama! Mama! Looklooklook!”
Scooping her four-year-old daughter into her arms, Aelin laughed. “Look at what, my little princess?”
Lyria Evalin Whitethorn Galathynius, crown princess of Terrasen, smiled a huge, giddy toddler smile at her mother. “Found a king--kingf--kingfame!”
“A kingsflame?”
“Yes yes yes! Looky!” Lyria held up a somewhat smushed kingsflame, its petals a brilliant shock of crimson.
“Goodness, it’s beautiful, my love. Where did you find it?”
“I show you, Mama.” Aelin set her daughter down and followed her across the yard to the corner she’d clearly been sitting in while her father trained, and pointed. “On’a ground.”
“And what did you do when you saw it, Lee?” Rowan, who’d obviously followed them, asked.
The princess looked up into her father’s eyes, widening her matching ones into an angelically innocent face. “I hold it careful.”
Rowan winked at Aelin. “Good job, my love.”
Lyria grinned. “I have it in my hair, Mama?”
“Of course you can.” Aelin swiftly tucked the flower behind the delicate point of her daughter’s ear, nestled into the mussed golden waves so much like her own. Lyria clapped her hands and twirled, admiring her new hairpiece. She ran back across the yard to show it to Uncle Aedion, who swung her up, making her laugh her adorable little belly laugh. He tossed her into the air, something her parents, aunts, and uncles had discovered she very much enjoyed, and she squealed in delight.
And spurted a burst of flame right across Uncle Aedion’s shoulder as he caught her.
“SH--” Aedion barely stopped himself from swearing in shock.
Rowan was across the yard in seconds, taking his daughter and asking her if she was okay.
Aelin yanked her cousin’s shirt off his shoulder to inspect it. He hissed.
“Calm down, Aed, you’re fine.” She ran her hand lightly over the red stripe atop his shoulder. “She barely nicked you; it’s about as bad as a mild sunburn. I’m sure the shock is worse than the injury.”
Aedion shook his head. “Gods,” he breathed, “did she really just start showing her magic?”
Aelin nodded. “Yes. Yes, she did, and it’s terrifying.”
“And exhilarating.”
“Absolutely.”
“But did it really have to hit me?” Aedion grumbled. Aelin smirked.
“Like mother, like daughter, cousin.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that, but apparently some memories just won’t go away.”
She laughed. “Wait until Emerson shifts into a ghost leopard at the dinner table.”
“So help me gods, I will shit myself if he does that.”
“Hope I’m there to see that.”
“You shut it.”
She just smirked at him and headed toward her mate and daughter.
~
Rowan hadn’t believed his eyes when he saw the flames burst from his daughter’s hands. Yes, he and Aelin both had been expecting their children would inherit magic, but neither of them anticipated that it would manifest itself until the children were seven or eight.
“Lyria, sweetheart, can you show me the flames again?”
“Scared, Da.” Indeed, she’d been practically in tears when Rowan took her from Aedion, petrified by the unexpected fire.
“I know, little one. I was scared too. But look, now I can do this.” He summoned a soft breeze, winding it through his daughter’s hands, watching as she wiggled her fingers as if she was the one controlling it. “It takes practice, Lyria, but remember that you are in charge of your magic. Always. It won’t scare you unless you let it.”
“I not wanna get burned, Da.”
“Does Mama get burned, sweetheart?”
“Noooo.”
“And you got your flames from Mama……do you know what that means?”
“Flame not burn me?”
“Exactly.” Rowan smiled at her. “Your magic won’t burn you. Can you show me, now?”
Lyria took in a big breath, scrunched up her face, and splayed her hands, physically trying to pull the fire out of herself.
Nothing.
Tears welled in her big green eyes. “I can’t, Da!”
Aelin knelt down on the other side of her daughter. “Lyria, lovey.”
She sniffled. “What, Mama?”
“You don’t pull on the flames; they’re grumpy and don’t like being told what to do.” She made a comical scowling face.
Lyria giggled. “Really?”
“Yes, really. So do you know how we get the flames?” Cupping her hand, she produced soft, flickering flames, sent them dancing in front of her daughter’s wide eyes.
“How, Mama?”
Aelin grinned. “Close your eyes and imagine yourself at a little house full of grumpy flames. Imagine yourself knocking on the door, and when it opens, you say ‘I’m having a party, and you’re the star guest.’ Can you do that?”
Her daughter nodded and closed her eyes. A moment later, they heard her mumbling “I having party, peas come be guest. I having party, peas come be guest.”
And then flames burst forth from her little hands again.
Rowan looked at Aelin.
Aelin looked at Rowan.
Both sets of parental Fae eyes held the same thought.
Shit.
Lyria’s flames were silver.
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My Fault (Jeno x reader)
a/n: semi angst - fluff- happy end!
trigger warning : mentioned drunk scene, break up, nothing too wild i guess
tag list @neopalette @yutahoes (it's jeno your little boy) and idk who else hahaha
enjoy!!
It's just another day in the big study room and you're busy looking for motivation to start preparing for your upcoming tests. Life has been great for the first few weeks, parties, strolls, games, picnics and boom midterms! Your boyfriend has been a great moral and mental support for the last three months and you cannot exchange him for anything in this world! Not even extra sleep.
“Where should we sit?” Jeno, your lover for three months, asks you with his trademark smile on his face.
You look around the room, there's not many people studying. Afterall it's Friday and people usually go partying or go for a movie night but you can’t. Not when you have test next week.
“That table has a chair for two and it's next to the window! The sun is still bright and we can open the window if you want some air.” You point to the spot that looks warm with the sun and no one seems to be around.
Jeno nods and just walks to take the other seat when you quickly drag the chair to sit down.
You begin to open your laptop and Jeno also opens his own laptop. He agrees to come with you tonight not just to accompany you, but he also has a paper due by the weekend and he hasn’t started yet.
In the comfortable silence both Jeno and you are submerged in your own focus. Occasionally you see Jeno typing furiously on his keyboards but sometimes he just has his hand on his face while his eyes scan through some journals maybe.
You giggle as you take a sip from the cold fruit tea you bought along the way. Your slurping sound makes Jeno looks up from his screen and raises a brow.
You hand over the drink and shake it in front of him. He knows what you mean and just simply take it from you and sip some to refresh his mind.
“Ooh I like that! What's that again?” he asks since every time you order a fruit tea it’s always a different flavor.
You reply to him as your eyes continue to read your slides and textbook “Mango?”
He hums in respond and you just ignore him.
It goes on for an hour or two. With your foot occasionally bumping his under the table and Jeno's groan when you accidentally kick his shin. You're still on the last chapter when you feel a big warm hand holding your free hand on the table and giving it a soft stroke.
You glance from your notes and blush at Jeno. Who still has his eyes glued to the screen but his hand is holding yours and his thumb is slowly caressing you. You squeeze his hand, knowing this is something Jeno always do when he feels nervous or worried about something.
You pause your reading and rub your thumb on his hand “Jeno? What’s the matter honey?” your calm voice grabs his attention and you can see how tired his eyes look.
“I run out of ideas or journals that can support my argument.” He sighs and slumps on his chair.
You only smile and hold his hand harder “Come on, let's just wrap up for today hmm? The sun is pretty hot outside maybe we can just lay down and chill under the heat.” You give his hand a jiggle and that brings a smile on his face.
“Gosh you really know me.” He says as he saves his work and turns off his laptop.
You wink at him “Of course I know you! Let me turn this off and we can go.” You keep your notes and book then close your laptop.
Jeno stretches when he gets up from the chair and offers you his hand when you already has your bag on your back.
“Did you bring a mat?” he asks you, worried if you’ll get itch from the grass
You nod “I happen to have one”
“Let's rush!” he pulls you excitedly to look for an empty space.
Both of you settle somewhere near a tree where the shade is also saving you from sunburn. Jeno opens the mat and after placing your bag and his to keep it from flying, both of you lay down on the grass side by side and close your eyes.
You feel his hand creeps to hold yours and you only smile. Jeno is always shy in public, but at times like this, he can turn into a pda boyfriend.
“I love the sun… and you… and oh the pretty flowers.” He breathes in the fresh air and watches the trees filled with colorful petals.
You turn your body to face him and put a hand over his trained muscles “I love you too, don’t ever leave me.”
He turns his head to face you and smile “I'll never leave you.” He presses a quick kiss on your lips and you turn red.
--
“Life sucks.” You throw your plushy to the wall and that makes Renjun and Jaemin duck away from you.
“Come on, it's been a month! Move on (y/n)!” Renjun groans when he has to spend another Friday night comforting you in your apartment.
Jaemin lays down on his back and stare at the ceiling while his limb dangle off the sofa “Moving on is hard Renjun. Especially for (y/n)! Jeno has been super sweet but ooof suddenly-" he pauses because you threw him a pillow which hits his face.
“don’t mention his name ever again!” you feel your eyes wet again and Renjun only rolls his eyes because oh well here goes the same routine.
Jaemin and Renjun are your bestfriend. They are the men who introduced you to Jeno and now when Jeno and you are no longer a thing… you hog Jaemin and Renjun to accompany you every weekend.
“He's a jerk.” You punch your doll and Jaemin flinches “Can you not punch that rabbit! I feel bad.”
You force a laugh but end up tearing down “Jaemin why did he do this to me.”
Renjun stands up and sits by your side. He taps his shoulder twice and you directly cry on his shoulder.
Jaemin sighs, all of you have discussed this for a lot of times. Jaemin tried to explain but you never listened. However today he'll do it again.
“Look Jeno was not the wrong one. He was unconscious (y/n) when that girl kissed him.” Jaemin massages his temple. “And you saw the wrong thing at the wrong time. You blamed Jeno since you're also not in your right head and you broke up with him before giving him a chance to speak.”
“But he could’ve begged me to stay or explain. He didn’t even try to explain!” you blame the poor guy again.
Renjun chimes in “He tried okay the next day, but you were both hungover and you don’t give him a chance at all. You blocked his number duhh.”
You punch Renjun “I block him coz he was wrong.”
“He was drunk (y/n)” Jaemin pulls his own hair in stress “He was drunk and that chic just lost her mind and kissed Jeno.”
“Even when he's drunk he should’ve remembered he has me!” you don’t want to let the boys blame your fault. Well you did break up with him but he was the first one to play with fire. Right?
“Oh come on! Both of you are stubborn. You were not on your mind neither was Jeno and boom you didn’t allow him to tell you what happened and you just storm out of the door saying it's over.” Jaemin can still remember the picture in his brain because first it was his party and second he felt guilty because it happened in his party and third both of you are his bestfriends.
“So you're blaming me?” you scoff at Jaemin which makes both of the guys in your room groan.
“This! Look you're always blaming others.” Jaemin loses his cool. He's tired of dealing with you every Friday to Sunday. He and Renjun also want to enjoy their weekend but they can’t because you force them to be here while threatening them that you'll go drink by yourself if they don’t want to come. And oh boy Renjun and Jaemin knew better to never let you go anywhere by yourself.
“Renjun back up please?” you groan when Renjun shakes his head “Jaemin is right. Maybe this is your time to learn that sometimes you have to admit you're wrong.”
You freeze at that point, you don’t know what to do. One part of your heart screams you're not wrong but the other part of you is considering listening to the boys… coz after all you really did not give Jeno a chance to explain at all.
You sigh and close your eyes as you lean to the big cushion. “I'll think about it. Fine… let me try to listen to what Jeno has to say.”
Renjun pats your shoulder “That's so cool of you. Sometimes in a relationship, you can’t always be the right one. It takes communication and dialogue not a monologue (y/n).”
You nod “I miss him so much, but he probably hates me already.” you wipe a tear that left your eyes
Jaemin scoots closer and pulls you to a hug “Hey listen, tomorrow just come to him and say what your heart wants to say. He'll listen and he won’t hate you okay.”
You push a small smile and glance at two of your best friends “I am so lucky to have you guys.”
They pat your shoulder “We’re glad we can help.”
--
The boys were right, a two way communication works and solves the problem. Jeno really explains how sorry he is about that night, although it was not his fault.
“Shh I forgive you already. I know you're angry well if that’s me. I'll react the same way, maybe I'll let you explain though.” He smiles and pinches your cheek
You turn red “Sorry. I am so immature in this relationship."
Jeno takes your hand “Well, you're lucky I am willing to teach you to be more mature in this relationship.”
You gasp “You're giving me a second chance?”
Jeno pulls you closer and tuck your hair away “I never stopped loving you.”
You snake your arms on his waist and pull him to a hug “Me too. I love you so much Jeno. Thank you for everything.”
“Promise me we'll solve things by talking okay and not just by judging the scene.” He ruffles your hair
You bury your red face in his chest “Promise.”
In the corner, Renjun and Jaemin give each other a fist bump
“Looks like it’s our turn to find each other a girl.”
end
#multifandomnet#jeno x reader#jeno x you#jeno x y/n#jeno imagines#jeno scenarios#jeno oneshot#jeno fanfic#jeno fluff#jeno soft hours#jeno angst#jeno#nct fluff
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Sparkle
Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle)
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: It’s so fluffy!
Rating: G
Length: Drabble
Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.
A/N: thank you @rmtndew for the edit of Sy in glasses :D More Sy and Wispy? Why yes!
Henry Cavill Master List
“Uncle Sy,” Annie giggled at her uncle, as he pulled a face. “Sit still.” Her voice going firmer.
Beside her, Willow had her hand on her hips shaking her head at their uncle. “Uncle Sy, we need you to stay very still.”
“Fine, fine.” He gave in sitting statue straight, still as could be.
“Close your eyes, please.” Annie instructed.
Doing as he was asked, Sy closed his eyes and leaning against the couch to support his back. Cross legged on the floor, a mound of pillows under him, he fought the smirk that kept threatening to creep onto his face. The two little girls painting the floral scented mud, clay, paint? Whatever the cool, thick stuff was onto his face. Around his beard, across his cheeks and forehead. Sy felt the soft brush that Aimee had handed them against his skin.
“You know Sy,” Aimee's voice greeted him, yet his eyes remained closed, “this stuff is actually pretty good. It might even help brighten that complexion of yours. Tired and sunburned was so last year.”
Snorting, Sy shook his head, both nieces scolding him for moving while they tried to apply the mask. Directing him to pucker his lips, Willow stood in front of him, a glob of lip moisturizer on her brush, she slapped it on spreading it thickly against his red chapped lips. The girls were taking good care of their Uncle Sy.
At least they wanted to do it at home this time. Sy was unsure of the product quality, but the service was far better and cheaper than when he'd taken them to an actual spa. Now that had been a sight, the look on the woman's face when the giant, bearded man in boots strode into the salon with the two little girls in tow. Despite the initial shock, Sy had to hand it to them, those ladies were magical.
He'd left feeling like his hands, feet, and face had been kissed by angels and butterflies. Hell, he'd even let Willow and Annie pick out a polish for his toes. Sitting in the chair chatting with the woman painting his toes, while his nieces had watched from their own pedicure chairs, Sy learned that men coming in to dote on their daughters and nieces wasn't really all that uncommon. He, however, was one of the first to ask for Pompeii Purple toes. The shade had really brought out his eyes.
In his sister's living room, Sy chuckled when Willow announced that he absolutely needed to trim that scraggly beard of his. In their life time, neither of his nieces had ever bore witness to their uncle without his beard. He liked it too much to part with it. Besides, the women loved it. Clearing his throat, Sy opened his eyes, a mocking frown on his face.
“Don't you dare touch my beard, understood bub?” He smirked. Willow nodded and Annie, standing just out of sight giggled. “There will be no cutting of my beard, until I say so.”
“Oh come on, Sy.” Aimee teased from the kitchen. “You could use a trim,” she winked at Annie.
“I would prefer to do it myself, thank you sister dearest.” He winked at Willow, a near impossible task with the clay beginning to set on his face.
“What if we just make it pretty?” Annie piped up, shuffling into the room with a hairbrush and bows in her hands. “Can we?”
“Please, Uncle Sy.” Willow pulled out the puppy dog eyes. Bouncing on her tip toes with excitement.
Playfully grumbling, Sy waited a minute or two. Letting the little girls get antsy before agreeing. Under some conditions. Nothing but a comb and some pink sparkly bows went into his beard. If they so much as tugged the wrong way, Sy was combing it himself. His beard was his pride and joy, right after his Wispy. He'd worked hard over the years to grow this bad boy.
“Gently,” He reminded them, lifting his chin for Willow to gingerly take the comb through his thick beard.
Climbing onto the couch behind him, Annie sat with her legs crossed gently rubbing a hair brush through his growing curls. A full out pamper day wasn't entirely bad. Enjoying his “spa treatment”, Sy winced when he heard Aimee giggling like a child on too much sugar. He knew his sister well enough to know that this was not going to be good.
“Aim, what in the hel-ck are you doing?” Sy asked glancing at his sister. Her phone poised as she giggled and shrugged.
“I thought ma might like to see. Maybe fire one off to the boys. You still in touch with the Major? Show him what retirement does for ya?”
“You wouldn't dare,”
“Send one to the Major? No. But I would send it to ma and everyone else we know. Come on Sy, you're adorable. You should let me share this on that mommy blog, it would be a hit.” She laughed. “Former Army Captain attacked by Girl Scouts.”
Sy replied with a grunt. More than one single mother, and a few not so single, on that damn blog Aimee was part of had themselves hot and bothered for the youngest Syverson. Every time Aimee mentioned her brother, at least one woman would ask if he was seeing somebody or how he liked children, who weren't his. Sy liked children fine, but he had no interest in taking on any to parent.
“Leave Uncle Sy alone,” Willow pouted, as she put the last bow into his beard. “Don't be mean, mommy.”
“I wasn't being mean, baby girl. Uncle Sy and I were teasing. Now, why don't you finish up those bows and help him wash his face. You can't leave the mask on too long, remember.”
“Oops,”
“It's okay bub,” Sy pulled away from the hair styling by Annie. “You ladies clean up a bit out here and I will go clean my face off.”
Striding down the hall, Sy could feel the clay on his face hardening and drying. If nothing else his pores would be flawless for a few days. Chuckling as he went, he could hear Annie and Willow in the living room. No doubt discussing their next plan for their uncle's beauty treatment. If he had to, there was a lovely yellow nail polish that he'd been eyeing in the box of tricks. It may not be the right season for yellow, but it would surely make the hair on his big toes really pop.
In the bathroom, he grabbed a wash cloth and turned the taps. Allowing the water to reach a nice, warm temperature he began scrubbing the dried clay away from his face. The bows in his hair and beard were a sight to behold. Admiring the handy work, Sy stood for a few seconds looking at the man in the mirror. The one grizzled, gruff, hard as nails and fearless Captain was reduced to a soft and gentle giant.
He loved spending the time with the kids, allowing them to have their fun, before Uncle Sy packed up and drove back across town. It was no wonder people were forever asking him when he'd have his own. Ah well, it was better this way. Sy enjoyed the company of the kids, but all the time and he would be even more grizzled and cranky than he was when he was stationed over in the desert.
Being home had it's perks, like getting to be with his family whenever he wanted. Having sleepovers with the kids, whenever Willow decided that he was lonely in his house. Or how she was forever trying to set him up with any woman they came across, while he had her out. That one was less and less cute, especially as she had somehow been targeting only married women lately.
The last thing Sy wanted was to get his ass kicked by some woman's husband or wife, for hitting on their wife because some kid said she was pretty. Shaking his head, he finished checking himself in the mirror to make sure he had all of the clay off.
Cleaned up and refreshed Sy joined the girls in the living room.
“Ladies, what's next?”
“Lunch!” “Make up!”
Laughing at their very different ideas, he nodded to Annie. “I agree lunch is the much better idea, make up can be after.”
“But mommy said we could go out for lunch. You can't go out unless you have a proper face on.” Willow pouted. Annie sighed. Her cousin had a point.
“Girls,” Aimee spoke, she was about to do everything in her mom power, to get Sy out of this one. As amused as it would be, seeing her brother go to lunch in a full face of make up.
“No, no she's right.” Sy nodded in agreement. “Aim, why not let Annie do your make up and Wispy can do mine. Then we'll all be ready for lunch, hel-ck, I'll even pay. Treat all of my girls.”
“Yeah!” The cheers went up from the girls.
Aimee, rolling her eyes and making a mental note to kill her brother later on. She would never forgive him, nor forget. Some day, she would get him back. This is when she should suggest wearing their best dresses – Sy included. Instead, she'd pay him back when he least expected. Maybe the next time, she'd insist they go for lunch wearing some over the top princess costumes.
Sy chuckled, what did they have to lose? At 11 years old, Annie was more than capable at putting together some make up. Willow was eccentric with her colour palate, but Sy wasn't worried much about that.
“Mommy, please. Please, we can all do our make up and go for lunch.”
“I hate you,” Aimee whispered passing her laughing brother, sitting down on the floor. “Okay, girls, let's get to it. Then we can make Uncle Sy take us for the best lunch, we've ever had.”
“Drive thru at Burger King isn't that fancy,” laughing, Sy nudged his sister with his elbow.
“Oh, but Sy if we have our best faces on, we need something better than cheap burgers in a bag. I was hoping maybe we could go to Janet's.”
It was Sy's turn to roll his eyes and stifle a groan. Of course Aimee would insist they go inside to eat. Saturday was the busiest day of the week for the small diner. Whatever, Sy was man enough to take it. With more confidence than anyone had ever seen, he would walk into that diner, head high, and his beard bows sparkling. The things he did to keep these children happy.
If it meant buying a hundred ponies, wearing full make up, and walking across a floor of legos – Sy would do it all to see these kids smile.
“I love Janet's!” Willow squealed dancing on her tiptoes, nearly poking her uncle in the eye with the eye shadow brush she was using. The hot pink creme shadow she had chosen for him was really going to pop with his dark beard. “Uncle Sy, please. Please can we go? You said that you would take me there the next time we went for lunch, you said that I could have a big sundae and...”
“Sy?” A sideways glance at her baby brother, Aimee puckered her lips for Annie to apply some lipstick. Offering the kids ice cream as a meal wasn't a crime, but it would explain why they sometimes came home bouncing around like mad hornets in an old coke can.
“Wispy, you're not supposed to tell your ma that I let you at ice cream as a meal.”
“Sorry, but can I?”
“Maybe for dessert, you can Annie can shade a giant sundae.” Aimee reasoned.
“Fine, but the next time we go....” Staring at her uncle, Willow pouted.
“Whatever you want, bubs.” Smirking at his sister, Sy conveniently pointed to the blush in the bag, asking Willow if she thought the orangeish colour would work for him. “Whatever you want.”
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Critical Role: Difficult
(Read on AO3)
Rating: Gen
Summary: He considers for a moment and then pulls it over the back of Caleb’s head, leaving his arms dangling loosely in the taut pull of the fabric. “Be good or I’ll tickle you again.”
It’s something he’d say to one of his siblings, and it gets an equally petulant response - Caleb growls, elbows flailing as he tries to break free of his shirt prison. “Caduceus.”
Difficult. Caduceus eyes the bare and probably-ticklish - and currently burnt up - expanse of Caleb’s exposed torso and makes a decision.
Wordcount: 2.4k
A/N: Fill for this anon prompt!
---
Caduceus likes to think he’s pretty immune to nonsense, as things go - growing up with three siblings will have that effect - but that doesn’t mean he’s not frustrated when certain people decide that they’re going to walk away from a we-barely-survived-a-dimension-with-a-dragon-in-it healing circle.
Still, he knows how these things go. He sees everyone off to bed and reminds himself to come up with some tea for Beau later. He pulls thick green stalks of succulents from his pack, grateful that he’d thought to wrap most of his herbs up in oilcloth before his time with the group took a decidedly nautical turn, and crushes them methodically into paste before stirring in some warm oil and beeswax. He hums a quick prayer to the Wildmother, asking for the same patience it took not to sneak something annoying into Clarabelle’s food when she started putting worms in his bed at night.
Then, he goes to find Caleb.
Their guilt-ridden wizard looks even worse than he did before, if that’s even possible. He smells of soot, shirt scorched and blackened around the collar, and his cheeks are red and peeling with what might be mistaken for a particularly terrible sunburn if Caduceus hadn’t been in the room with him and a fire elemental and a whole entire dragon. But that’s not the worst of it - he’s hunched up at the head of his bed in the already confined space of the room he and Nott have taken over, knees pulled to his chest and a faraway look in his eyes that says he’s probably sat himself down and not moved since.
Caduceus tries not to sigh. “Hey, I brought you some stuff.”
Caleb’s head barely twitches in his direction. “I am not in the mood for tea just now, Herr Clay.”
“Well, good, cause it’s not tea.” He ducks through the doorway properly and brandishes the bowl of salve for inspection, cradling it gently in his hands. “For the burns - you’re going to have to take care of those sooner or later, or they’ll get pretty gross.”
“I will sleep it off, then.”
Caduceus very tactfully refrains from mentioning that Caleb has obviously not been sleeping. “Where’s Nott gotten off to?”
Caleb tends to be a little less guarded when Nott is around, he’s noticed, and the question gets him to shift just enough to reveal Nott hidden between him and the wall, high-pitched goblin snores muffled in the sleeve of Caleb’s coat that she’s wrapped herself up in. “We will let her sleep, ja?”
He turns away, clearly considering the conversation over. Caduceus takes just a little bit of smug pride in the way his head snaps back around when he climbs onto the bed to join them.
“She can sleep. You, though-” He settles cross legged at the foot of the bed, catches Caleb’s eye and pats the mattress in front of him. “C’mere.”
Caleb stares. Caduceus thinks he might be trying to intimidate him. “Herr Clay, we do not know each other so well, but I think I have been quite clear-”
Caduceus snags one of his ankles and starts towing him in, patiently watching him wince and sputter as he scrambles to keep himself upright without the support of the wall. “You - well, the group, but also you - asked me to come with you to heal you all.”
Caleb, just shy of his lap, makes an immensely frustrated noise - he looks like he wants to gesture angrily, but both of his arms are occupied keeping him from falling over. “Yes, but you cannot just-”
“You need healing,” Caduceus says firmly. He takes Caleb’s shoulders and nudges them around, leaving him to straighten the rest of himself out. “Hold still now, I’m doing the back of your neck first.”
All at once, Caleb seems to decide that it’s not worth the effort to crawl back to the other side of the bed - his shoulders bend under the gentle pressure Caduceus puts on them, and he looks away. “Jester has never been this dedicated to healing,” he complains, but he turns himself to sit on the edge of the bed and pulls his feet to the floor.
Caduceus hums approvingly and lets go of him- it’s important to reward good behavior. “Isn’t it nice that the Wildmother decided to bring you to my door, then?”
Caleb snorts.
It’s slow going. First Caleb won’t let him braid his hair up out of the way - he jerks his head away, and Caduceus can see the way his back stiffens with pain as he produces a twist of silver thread and yanks the reddish locks into a painful looking tail at the back of his skull. Then he bows his head and refuses to say a single word when Caduceus asks him if he’s pressing too hard. Honestly, he’s met more cooperative corpses.
“Does it help?” he asks, smoothing more of the salve over the taut muscles on either side of Caleb’s neck. Goosebumps spring up under his fingers, and he rubs a little more firmly to smooth them back down. “The sulking, I mean. Doesn’t do much, in my experience, but you seem pretty attached.”
Caleb, unsurprisingly, stays quiet. Caduceus has to laugh at that, doesn’t particularly bother keeping it quiet. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
It’s not a big area to cover, and he’s finished within a minute, but as he keeps rubbing his thumb over the bony jut of spine just under the fragile curve of skull Caleb relaxes ever so slightly into his touch - very much despite his own intentions, he’s sure - and he’s interested in chasing that rather promising hint of compliance. Another minute, and Caleb’s elbows unlock from their pillar-straight position by his sides. He’s curious what might come next, but the exhaustion of the day is starting to pull at him and he knows he needs to check on Beau too before he goes to sleep. Caleb’s a multi-step project, if anything.
He does take the opportunity to tease Caleb’s ponytail just a little looser, though. He doesn’t like seeing people mistreat their hair.
He pulls his hands away - Caleb sways in his direction, a quiet protest escaping, and he does make sure to hide his amusement at that - and reaches for the collar of his shirt. Tugging it away from the skin, he peeks down Caleb’s back and instantly hisses in sympathy. It’s not burnt, protected by two layers of cloth, but the skin still looks red and irritated from the heat. No wonder Caleb isn’t keen on going to sleep. “Okay, shirt off, let’s do your back too.”
And, just like that, Caleb locks right back up. “What? I thought we were done.”
He does permit himself an aggrieved sigh, at that - he’s sure the Wildmother will understand. “Yeah, no - I can see the burns on your back, you know.”
Caleb’s shoulders take on an especially mutinous hunch, fingers tightening on the hem of his shirt. “I will be fine.” He huffs in a dark, angry way that makes Caduceus’ ears want to flatten against the side of his head. “I’ve seen worse.”
Somehow, he doesn’t think his look-over-here trick with the mushroom will work as well here as it did on Beau. Instead, he flutters his fingers along the side of Caleb’s neck, on an unburnt patch of skin just below his ear. Tends to be distracting, even on people who aren’t ticklish there - and he’s fairly sure Caleb isn’t, after watching Jester try to blow a raspberry on the back of his neck and immediately gag on the taste of days-old sweat and earn barely a startle for her troubles.
Which makes it all the more delightful when the sensation takes right away - “Oh”, Caleb gasps, and instantly crushes his shoulders up against his ears as goosebumps bloom over the sensitive skin. “Ah- hffff-”
Caduceus keeps a watchful eye on his hands, yanking his shirt up as soon as his death grip on it loosens and - oh, right the holsters. He’d forgotten about those.
Caleb recovers quickly, pulling away from the tickling and jerkily tugging his shirt down from where it’s caught up by his ribs. “Okay, this is - I am low on spells right now, but if this is what it takes then I will fucking do it-”
Caduceus tunes him out, searching the visible stretch of skin on Caleb’s back for somewhere that’s not going to hurt him to be touched, and - ah, there it is.
Caleb’s tirade cuts off with a startled squeak as Caduceus wraps a palm around his side and wiggles a fingertip into the soft spot just underneath his ribs. Perfect.
He smiles triumphantly and leans over to fish for the buckle on the front of Caleb’s holsters - he’s tall enough to catch a look at Caleb’s face as he does, and finds the scrunched-up nose and twisted lips of someone trying desperately not to laugh. “Didn’t know you were ticklish,” he tells him, gently tugging at straps until he finds the ones he wants. “You could’ve said, if that’s what you were worried about.”
It’s definitely not, he knows, but he’s hoping to bait Caleb into trying to say something in the hopes of getting him to laugh - it’ll be easy enough to deal with him like this, squirming and distracted from the tickling, but he might at least have some fun in the meantime.
Caleb doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “Sta - hhh - stohoppit” he grits out, swatting at Caduceus’ hand, and he does, but only because he’s got the buckle sorted out and can finally get Caleb’s shirt all the way up.
He considers for a moment and then pulls it over the back of Caleb’s head, leaving his arms dangling loosely in the taut pull of the fabric. “Be good or I’ll tickle you again.”
It’s something he’d say to one of his siblings, and it gets an equally petulant response - Caleb growls, elbows flailing as he tries to break free of his shirt prison. “Caduceus.”
Difficult. Caduceus eyes the bare and probably-ticklish - and currently burnt up - expanse of Caleb’s exposed torso and makes a decision.
Grabbing Caleb around the ribs to hold him still, he murmurs a prayer to the Wildmother and smooths his hands over the damaged skin. Lichen sprouts beneath his fingertips and webs across the irritated skin, a beautiful thing made all the sweeter for happening amidst the salty waves of an earthless ocean. He watches for a moment, waiting for the growth to crumble away as the spell finishes and leaves pink and tender flesh in its wake.
There’s a lot of dust. Caleb’s gone still under his hands, finally, so he lets go and starts to brush everything away - curls his fingers a little more than he needs to, while he’s at it, scritching lightly here and there to see if he can find anything particularly sensitive.
“You,” Caleb says slowly, the bright edge of a laugh squirming its way up under his words, “had spells?”
“Mhmm.” The grooves of Caleb’s ribs seem particularly useful, even if lingering there for more than a moment makes him start squirming again.
“Then - what - ahhf-”
“Well, you didn’t want them earlier. I thought you could use a little fussing over.”
“But - hfff-” Definitely a laugh caught in Caleb’s throat now, words jumbling uselessly on his tongue as he tries to fight it back. Caduceus chuckles and presses his fingers carefully into the bony ridges of his ribcage, rubbing nice and slow to give him a fighting chance of getting the words out. “But I - heh - I am healed now, so-”
He considers for a moment. “Now I’m going to make you laugh,” he decides, digging in a little harder, “and we’ll go from there.”
Caleb jumps hard enough that his shirt tumbles back down around his shoulders, revealing his flushed face as he turns around to gawk. “N - hnnn - no, no, but Nott is sleeping, please-”
“Yeah, she’s a deep sleeper,” Caduceus says. “Does she know how ticklish you are?”
“I’m not,” Caleb gets out, just as Caduceus goes to tickle under his arms and finds the top edge of his ribcage instead.
The resulting shriek of laughter sounds very ticklish to him.
“Not when you’re surprised, maybe,” Cad tells him. Caleb’s starting to wobble dangerously close to toppling off the bed, too tired or distracted to stay upright, so he wraps an arm around his waist and tugs him back to sit properly in his lap. “But if I spend enough time poking around-”
He kneads at the top of Caleb’s ribcage again and finds himself with a lapful of cackling wizard - his hands are under Caleb’s shirt now, but even with his arms free the poor thing isn’t making much of an attempt to get away. “Ahaah, ahahaaa - aaa! - hah, Caduceus - please - ”
Caduceus hums and lets his hands still for a moment. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Caleb’s face is nearly as red as his hair. “It tickles,” he pleads, squeaking helplessly as Caduceus twitches a finger a little too close to his ribs.
Caduceus grins down at him. “Sure it does,” he teases, drifting down to squeeze Caleb’s sides until he starts laughing all over again. “Maybe I should just heal you like this, from now on, so you can’t wander away. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“No! Noho, please, I’m sohorry - ahahaaa!”
Whoops, his fingers are back on Caleb’s ribs again. “Yeah? You’ll stick around next time?”
“Yes,” Caleb shrieks in an very un-Caleb like way, kicking frantically as the merciless tickling heads back up under his arms. “I will, I will, plehehease!”
His voice cracks on the last word, cresting into silent laughter, and Caduceus begrudgingly deems him repentant enough that working on any other bad habits will have to wait. He pulls his hands out from under Caleb’s shirt with one last pinch to his tummy, looking over the giggling mess in his lap with the serene satisfaction of punishment well administered.
He’s been on the other end of things too, often enough - especially from Calliope - but no one here needs to know that.
Caleb sits up, the giddy remnants of a smile lingering in the corners of his mouth as he scrubs his hands furiously over his ribs. “Herr Clay,” he says, breathless, “I think that I will stay very far away from danger for the time being. Just in case.”
Caduceus just laughs at him.
#tickling#critical role#caduceus clay#caleb widogast#chocfic#i'm a little :/ over the characterization on this one but HERE WE GO
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Pegoryu week 2021 is here and I have two whole entries that are gonna be done on time! The rest will happen, I promise, they'll just be late.
Anyways! the fic is under the cut and the link is in the reblogs as per usual. Hope y'all enjoy!
“Man, y’know you don’t hafta let Ann bully you like that, right?” Ryuji whispered over to Akira and reached for the flower poking out of his hair. To his surprise, Aki actually batted his hand away with a huff and tucked the thing a little more tightly behind his ear.
“First off, I do have to let Ann bully me. And then I bully back. That’s just what our friendship is,” he explained, not bothering to lower his voice while the girls were off getting more drinks. Not that it woulda made much difference, he was a pretty quiet guy even when he was being obnoxious. Usually. Ryuji cringed as Aki noisily sipped the meltwater from the bottom of his glass and held up a second finger. “Second, I like flowers, thank you very much. And thirdly,” almost against his will, Ryuji’s eyes tracked the swipe of Akira’s tongue across his lower lip as it shifted the straw from one corner of his mouth to the other before he continued, “red’s my color.” Ryuji swallowed.
“Y-yeah. D’you gotta chew your straw like that, dude? It’s kinda... gross.” Gross. That was the word he was trying to hold onto in his brain with both damn hands. Gross. It was gross, dammit. The straw chewing and the obnoxious slurping were habits that usually grated on his brain worse than a Metaverse confusion-and-psychic-attack double whammy. Today, though? Today he barely noticed it, he was too distracted. Maybe it was the heat or the jet lag, or the fact that seeing all these American girls with bikinis and curves that made Ann look downright bland by comparison meant that his brain had glued itself into the gutter. The fact that he almost never saw Akira with his glasses off sure as hell wasn’t helping either, considering the damn things had to be for everyone else’s sake. Under the scruffy nerd look Akira Kurusu was as much of a damn pretty-boy as Yusuke Kitagawa or that asshole Akechi with those effin’ eyes. That was an objective fact that even a guy as straight as Ryuji could see. Hell, if it weren’t for the glasses he’d probably be Shujin’s favorite bad boy--regardless of which way any of the students swung--instead of Ryuji’s fellow delinquent outcast. This wasn’t news to him, but for some damn reason something was different today.
Today, some goddamn wire got crossed in Ryuji’s brain and he kinda wanted to beat its ass. Today, he’d lost track of how many times he’d caught himself staring at those stupidly long eyelashes that any of Ann’s coworkers would kill to have, and the way they cast soft shadows over those perfectly smooth cheeks. Or the way Akira’s usually dark grey eyes looked almost silver in the sunlight. Or how they’d crinkle just a little at the corners when he smiled that soft little hint of a smile that already did weird, mushy things to Ryuji’s guts on a normal day. Or the way his lips were just a little fuller than either of the girls’ were but just as soft-looking. Ryuji wondered if maybe he used some kind of lip balm or something, but one without any color. If it didn’t have any color, would it at least have a flavor--
...Anyways.
Ryuji had decided to blame it on that damn flower. Akira stared at him, a little confused, the straw still resting on his lower lip as he breathed out a quiet, “huh?” Then he glanced down at his mostly empty drink and then frowned sheepishly as the realization hit him. “Oh! Sorry, I know that drives you crazy.” Oh right, Ryuji had asked a question and had already forgotten. Akira set the glass on the table next to where Ann had given up and dropped the other hibiscus she’d been hellbent on putting in Ryuji’s hair. He had enough time to grimace at the sad, mangled end of the straw--and the thoughts his traitorous, overcooked brain conjured up about where it had just been--before Aki reached out, swiped the other flower, and tucked it next to the other behind his ear.
If Yusuke were there (because that was what Ryuji needed, more clueless pretty-boys punching holes in his sanity), he’d have his hands up in that finger-frame thing he always did when he was planning out a painting in his brain. The artist would be ready and raring to try and turn Akira into his latest masterpiece... that he’d end up bitching about not being good enough to capture right a week later. That wouldn’t be Yusuke’s fault though, Akira was just weird like that; in every picture of him he just looked like Some Dude, like a background character in his own life, Guy With Glasses #3 or something. But right now, right in front of Ryuji he looked… compelling, or some shit like that. Pretty as a damn painting that you couldn’t help but stare at for a while and contemplate your life, ‘cause that was easier than tryin’ to understand what was in front of you.
“Seriously, Aki?” Ryuji sighed at the second blossom now peeking out of Akira’s unruly frizz. He shoulda kept his damn mouth shut, let Akira keep chewing on his damn straw and drive him crazy in the annoying way and not… whatever this was. It had to be the heat. Ryuji was secretly dying of heatstroke, that had to be it.
“Red. Is. My. Color.” Akira crossed his arms and pouted, and Ryuji had to bite back a laugh at how his best friend had puffed out his cheeks while he sulked. Cute, but a safe kind of cute. Like back at the buffet, in that open kind of way that made Ryuji wonder what Akira had been like as a little kid. That looked like his opening to get things back on track, back to something resembling their usual dynamic.
Ryuji cracked a grin and flicked the bottle that everyone had passed around earlier. “Yeah? That why you didn’t put any sunscreen on, you gonna be the first guy to pull off havin’ a sunburn?” Akira deflated slightly, then snatched the bottle off the table and-- Oh goddammit.
That had backfired spectacularly. Genius move, Sakamoto. You can’t quit ogling your best friend like some kinda weirdo, why don’t you convince him to oil himself up! That’ll help! Effin’ brilliant. Ryuji hastily turned around in his chair and fixed his eyes on the shoreline. He occupied himself with trying to guess how quickly he could sprint to the ocean, and for once he hoped that the water would be cold cold. The girls walking by, all dressed in bikinis that’d look small on skinny little Futaba and were probably held onto those insane curves with more wishful thinking than fabric, might as well have been invisible to him. Since he had apparently pissed off god or something, all he could think about was Akira, very intentionally just outside the edge of his vision, slathering his chest in sunscreen. His incredibly flat chest; if he’d at least had enough bulk on him to have pecs or something, that might have taken some of the sting out of his stupid brain fixating on his leader instead of any of the women who looked like they’d walked straight out of his dreams. Ryuji was gonna set those stupid flowers on fire when he got his hands on them.
He swallowed around a mouth that had gone dry and tried to break the awkward silence that had settled over them. At least, Ryuji sure as hell felt awkward, Akira was usually fine with a little quiet and didn’t seem bothered at the moment. Still, Ryuji had to do something before he went crazy. “Man, I thought Ann was impressive, but compared to these foreign ladies… eh.” Akira snorted somewhere behind him.
“I’m sure she appreciates the break from being leered at,” he deadpanned. “Do you not have anything better to do than check people out?”
Ryuji’s stomach dropped a little as he whipped back around to shoot Akira a dirty look. Sure, he’d felt pretty obvious, but he hadn’t actually been obvious about staring-- Wait. Aki meant the girls. False alarm, no need to panic. “Man, shut up. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t agree. Like, these ladies are massive, the girls back home don’t even compare!” Ryuji snapped. Someone had to be appreciating all these beach babes, otherwise what even was the point of staying out when it was so damn hot?
Akira actually paused and glanced over at Ryuji with a weird look on his face before he sighed and shook his head. “I’m not really interested, honestly.”
“Man, I am gonna rip that tongue outta your head!” Ryuji exclaimed. Seriously, all those lovely ladies going unappreciated had to be some kind of crime. An international one. It was probably too much to hope Ann or Makoto would be taking up the slack, wherever the hell they were. It was apparently definitely too much to hope that Akira would let that comment pass; even if he was quiet, the guy almost always needed the last word.
This time, it was muttered irritably under his breath. “Yeah why don’t you come take it, then?”
...What?
“What?!” Ryuji didn’t even bother turning around, he just broke down laughing. “What the hell does that even mean, dude?”
“You heard me,” Akira sounded serious, except for where the last word turned wobbly at the end. And then he dissolved into his own fit of laughter, snorting once before he continued, “I don’t even know, man. I just kinda blurted it out.” The two of them cracked up a little longer, glad to be back to something a little closer to normal--and Ryuji didn’t think Akira’s laugh was cute, it was quiet and dorky and weird, definitely not cute--before Aki caught his breath and then stretched. And sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“You alright, man?” He may not have been able to see Akira’s face with the two of them sitting facing in opposite directions, but Ryuji still caught how his leader had winced when he tried to raise his arm over his head.
Akira nodded. “Slept weird on the plane.” He rolled his shoulder again, then tossed the sunscreen to Ryuji. “At the risk of putting you in tongue-ripping range, can I ask you to get my back?” Ryuji was already up and moving his chair behind Akira, always eager to help his best friend.
“Sure thing, dude.” He had the bottle open and hovering over his hand before his brain caught up to him. Wait. Shit. Bad idea, bad bad idea! If he’d gotten all weird about Akira doing this for himself, how was Ryuji gonna survive getting his own hands involved, especially now that he was thinking about it? But he’d already agreed and if he backed out now, Akira would ask why. He sure as shit wasn’t gonna explain that.
“Earth to Ryuji?” Akira turned his head to peek back at him and… Welp. Apparently this was just Ryuji’s life now. The image of Akira looking over one bare shoulder with those damn eyes just barely visible past the flower petals, his face a little bit pink from the sun overhead, and his lips all flushed and swollen--because, oh right, when Akira didn’t have something to chew on, he’d worry at his lips instead--was seared into Ryuji’s brain. Straight or not, that picture just lived in his head now. And apparently so did about half of his blood, mostly in his face. And the other half… Again, he wondered again how cold the water was. Act natural, Sakamoto.
“Uh, sorry dude. Bottle was stopped up, I got it now!” He laughed nervously as the bottle squirted into his palm with a loud ‘pbblblblt’. Definitely no awkwardness here, no sir. Just a totally normal assist with sunscreen between bros. He was fine. He definitely wasn’t red enough in the face to look sunburnt. Deep breath. He was cool.
...God, he was gonna throw those stupid hibiscuses into the ocean. Hell, from this angle, he could probably grab them and slam them into one of the mostly-empty drinks before Akira could stop him. And Aki wouldn’t want to put them back in his hair after they were all covered in sugar water, right? It was a flawless plan. Ryuji was a damn genius.
He was just gonna finish putting on the sunscreen first, ‘cause he was courteous like that. No sense in letting Akira get a weirdly shaped sunburn because he chased Ryuji down for a couple of damn flowers. That was definitely the only reason he was still rubbing his hands down (and down and down) Akira’s back. Smooth and pale and soft, but surprisingly well muscled underneath, Akira’d been holding out on him while they were training. And those damn dimples on his lower back. Had he been wearing his trunks that low a minute ago? Ugh. Ryuji would definitely be going for a swim after this. He winced as he ran his hands back up over Akira’s shoulders.
“Shit, Aki, I think I found that knot in your neck. No wonder you couldn’t do this yourself,” he muttered and dug his thumb gently into the muscle. Akira sucked in another breath through his teeth, but tipped his head forward and let Ryuji work. The damn thing was probably about the size of a ping pong ball, and Ryuji couldn’t help but feel a little guilty every time Akira tensed up or hissed under his breath when Ryuji dug in a little too hard. And a lot guilty at the temptation to just bury his hands in his bro’s hair. But finally, after the longest two minutes of his life, the knot released and Akira…
Akira fucking groaned.
Ryuji was done. He reached out, snagged both of those stupid red flowers--and a little bit of Akira’s apparently insanely soft hair, oops--and stood up to walk away, ignoring his friend’s protests. The ocean could have both of the damn things, and Ryuji right along with them. He was done. Unfortunately Ann and Makoto had chosen that exact moment to return with fresh drinks, cutting off his escape route. Effin’ great.
“Aaannnnnn, Makotoooooo,” Akira whined as he draped himself dramatically over Ryuji’s shoulders, halfheartedly reaching out to try and reclaim the hibiscuses. “Ryuji deflowered meeee--” Makoto’s face fell into the most unimpressed look any of them had ever seen from her, Ann snorted loud enough that it sounded painful, Ryuji about jumped out of his skin with an indignant yelp that probably could have been heard back in Tokyo, and Akira continued whining undeterred, “--make him give it baaaack.”
Ann had doubled over cackling, and didn’t seem to care that she’d just sloshed about a quarter of one of their drinks onto the sand when she did. “I- I don’t- *snrk* I don’t think it w-works like tha-ha-ha-ha-at!” She managed despite howling with laughter so strong that it looked like she was gonna fall over. Makoto had set her two drinks down long enough to drop into one of the empty chairs and bury her face in her hands with a long, drawn out sigh.
“Why are you two like this?” She glanced up long enough to shoot that tired, unimpressed look up at Akira and Ryuji.
“Hey, don’t look at me!” Ryuji all but shouted as he shrugged Akira off of him and started stomping down towards the water, flowers still crushed in one fist. “This is all on him this time!”
God, Hawaii was off to one hell of a start.
#my writing#pegoryu#persona 5#fun fact this is kind of a deleted scene from wingman#because apparently that's just 90% of what I write these days is wingman stuff#have I mentioned wingman y'all should read wingman
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Happy Yato Day!
Fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13936397/1/The-Stray-Cowboy
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33158902
It was ironic that a little dusty down in the middle of nowhere would bear the name “Heaven,” especially since it’s been declining since her grandmother’s time. The town was built around a large natural spring that has been shrinking ever so slightly each year while the buildings only grew taller. Hiyori strolled down main street, her heels kicking up loose dirt which dusted the frills of her pink dress. Her father, the only doctor in town, had let her go for the day, giving her a break from replacing her run-away brother at the clinic. So, after visiting her friend, Ami, at the fabric store, and Yama out with the horses, Hiyori made her way to the saloon.
The building was two stories and housed a bar, a small stage, and tables with different games other cowboys could gamble on. Since this town held so much water and resources, it was a common place for vagabonds of all types to stop in and rest. The Inn was right next door, owned by the bar owner’s husband, it’s front often tied with horses. Hiyori’s eyes scanned the beasts for a familiar black mare with a short mane but was disappointed when she saw none. She entered The Lucky Lady, the batwing doors swinging behind her, eyes adjusting as she ignored the cat-calls.
“Hiyori!” The bartender called like they haven’t seen each other in years. The Lucky Lady, a spunky night-time-dancer named Kofuku, waved her friend over with a dirty cloth.
“Good afternoon, Kofuku,” Hiyori gave a short curtsy before taking a seat at the bar, “where’s Daikoku and Yukine?” She asked as her eyes scanned the bar, finally adjusted to the darker space.
“They’re tending to some of the horses behind the Inn. Yuki’s getting good at changing shoes you know,” Kofuku mused as she wiped down the bar, “although they’re not really who you’re looking for are they?” The comment shocked Hiyori out of her scanning. The teasing glimmer in the young woman’s eyes sparking a fire across Hiyori’s cheeks.
“Well! He did say he was coming back today and he’s supposed to be handling my job!” Hiyori sputtered. She crossed her arms with a huff and looked towards the door, waiting for the black silhouette of a certain hitman-turned-messenger-and-bounty-hunter. Unbeknownst to her parents, Hiyori had hired the man to find her missing brother. It felt off to put a secret bounty on her own brother, giving it to an enigma of a man recommended to her by Kofuku and Daikoku, but he’d stopped sending her letters almost a year ago and it had her worried.
“If there’s someone you want found, dead or alive, he’s your man,” The Inn owner had growled, “just don’t get too close.” The gruff man scoffed when his bubbly wife waved off his warning. Of course Hiyori was the strong, intelligent daughter of a doctor, who practiced cattle roping with her brother. She didn’t judge just based on one reputation, Hiyori had to see for herself. Especially with the reputation that particular cowboy had. No, if it weren’t for Yukine then Hiyori would have never hired him.
“Yukine!” Hiyori called when the boy in question walked in from the back. The young teen pulled off a black cutter that was too big for him, and revealed a puff of blonde hair. His hazel eyes popped up and he smiled at the sight of her.
“Hiyori!” He greeted, giving Daikoku the hammer and nails before heading to the bar. Yukine was one of the few people in this town Hiyori didn’t know since birth. Now, she didn’t know the whole story- the boy in question refusing to tell- but she did know the place he came from was not a very kind one. That, for one reason or another, the cowboy she hired to track her brother was the same one that saved Yukine from that place as a toddler. They traveled together since then, Yukine being dropped off at Kofuku’s place so the man could go on more dangerous jobs. Just like now. It was during those times, Hiyori had gotten to know the boy. Even early on, when Yukine would throw tantrums at being left behind or run away from strangers.
“He’s still not here yet?” Yukine sighed as he took a seat next to Hiyori. The boy gave a curtsey scan around the saloon, knowing the man’s figure too well to miss it.
“Sorry Yuki, he said more towards the sun down,” Kofuku reminded them of the last letter the messenger pigeon brought them. The blonde, becoming more and more like a teenager each day, scoffed and crossed his arms.
“Yeah, well, he better get here before Sheriff Bishamon gets back from her trip to the city. Otherwise he’ll just get chased out again.” Yukine soured at the thought, ready to hit the open road again. Hiyori knew a bit about how he felt. She’s felt the need to leave this dusty place, to hop on a horse and ride off into the sunset with nothing but your wit and a couple bullets at your side. But she could never do that to her parents, not like her brother did. Instead she lived through the stories Yukine brought back with him, after the cowboy in black strolled into Heaven like he owned it.
“How long is the sheriff gone for?” Hiyori asked. If the sheriff caught the man sneaking into town there would be a shotoff on sight.
“Oh who knows. I asked Uncle Ebi to keep her there for as long as possible so,” Kofuku shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll buy you two enough time to catch up.” The pink haired woman winked causing the two younger patrons to sputter with disgust.
“Don’t be gross! Hiyori could do so much better than that dusty rattlesnake!” Yukine hissed, insulting the one man he deemed as blood family. Still, the statement jolted something within Hiyori. A boxed up secret that’s been locked up tight since the man in question last rode out of town.
“Hey yeah! Our little Miss Hiyori still has a courtship with that gun dealer from the city,” Daikoku suddenly walked behind the bar, giving his wife a kiss on the head.
“Ukk! You mean Kouto? Hiyori, don’t tell me you’re still seeing that as-donkey,” Yukine quickly muffled his cursing, remembering he wasn’t out on the open road with a not-so-great role model. Daikoku raised a brow at the kid, muttering out a mental note to have a word with the kid’s kidnapper.
“I am not ‘seeing him,’ it is a one-sided courtship at best! One that I do not plan on pursuing,” Hiyori stood suddenly, face red enough to pass as sunburn, “so if you’ll excuse me. I’ll be back after dinner to see if-.” The young woman stopped short, half way from the bar to the door, when she realized the saloon had gone silent. Someone was approaching the planked doors, the sun casting a shadow across a smirk that could steal a golden fiddle from the devil. The room fell into hushed whispers as he pushed open the door and approached Hiyori with careless saunter. The various weapons and coins hidden among his long black coat clinked as his brown boots thudded against the squeaky floor. Since his hat was left in the care of a blonde boy, there was nothing obscuring his sharp gaze from meeting hers. The white ascot around his neck covered his grin to the others in the room, helping keep up with his dark and bloody reputation. If only they knew how sweet he really was.
“Hiyori,” his drawl was rough from breathing in nothing but hot desert dirt but she found his dust-smudged cheeks just as endearing. His blue eyes and smile didn’t waver from her, even as the men closest to him raised their hackles and fixed him with narrowed eyes. The cowboy stopped directly in front of her, much too close for an upper class employer and some hired vagabond. But despite the towns and names he’s buried six feet under, Hiyori met his eyes with a straight back and a confident smile.
“It’s nice to see you again, Yato.”
“A pleasure, Hiyori,” he chuckled. The two shared a moment for less than a second before a barstool behind Hiyori squeaked with movement.
“Finally! About time you got here!” Yukine said. Regardless, the kid was off his stool and across the floor in an instant, arms crossed and hat off, waiting for Yato to ruffle his hair. Which Yato did. Until he pulled the kid into a large hug, encasing the small boy in his leather coat with a happy laugh.
“There he is! My baby Yukine! Have you gotten smaller? Or bigger? Definitely bigger, look at those arms! Turnin into a big strong man now! Gone for a season and look at you! Did you keep my hat nice and safe like always?” Yato gushed.
“Blegh! You smell like horse shit and sweat! You disgusting loser! Get off me!” Yukine hollered, squirming out of Yato’s hold and shoving the man’s hat back in his arms. Yatolet the boy go, satisfied that the bar’s paterons went back to their drinking and card games. Hiyori could understand, having a cute child by his side made Yato look a little less like the hitman he once was. The boy stomped back to the bar, Yato smiling after him.
“Ya heading out?” Yato asked, placing his hat back at home on his head.
“Um nope! No,” Hiyori said. Yato’s smirk quirked back on and he nodded his head to the bar, pouting when Hiyori declined his offered arm.
“Oh Yatty! We missed you!” Kofukue leaned over the bar, her corset popping a string, as she pulled him into a hug.
“Hey Kofuku! Glad to be back,” Yato squeezed her, “thanks for watching the kid again.”
“Yeah, well, the kid’s welcome here anytime. You, on the other hand, got a long tab to pay.” Daikoku grumbled by the taps.
“It’d be easier if you just let me go with you,” Yukine said, haughtily. The kid watched the man that saved him take a heavy seat on the bar, removing his iconic twin shotguns from his shoulders and laying them on the wood. Hiyori took a seat on the other side of Yato, eyeing the long, silver double barrel guns. Her gaze tracing tiny flowers engraved on the metal. She knew without looking that the wooden butt of the guns had the names “Sekki” and “Setsu” carved into them when he was Yukine’s age. Of course, Daikoku’s rule about weapons on the bar went ignored as Yato gave Yukine a side eye from over his pint.
“Death Valley is called ‘the underworld’ for a reason, kiddo. It’s too risky for a youngin.” Yato said.
“I’m not a youngin! I’m fourteen!” Yukine spun on the stool, “and you were even younger when you started out.”
“Not by choice, Yukine.”
“Okay but I’m choosing to.” Yukine’s eyes narrowed even more when Yato just scoffed and took a large swig of cheap beer.
“Come on, Yato! You said it yourself, I’m turnin’ into a man now. I’ve been traveling with you for nearly a decade! I know how to shoot and lasso and care for horses and where to look for gold and know when it’s gonna rain! You taught me all of that and you always say when I’m older you would keep me with you all the time! On all your jobs, so why?” Yukine almost pleaded, frustrated. Hiyori bit her lip and looked from Yukine to Yato.
“Because I thought this one was going to be particularly dangerous. You know I don’t want you seeing that,” Yato finally said, setting his glass down with a clink, “besides, I was just going to poke around and gather information. If there was anything solid I’d come get you.”
“Is that right?” Yukine asked, unconvinced.
“‘Course. It’s not like you missed anything big. I just went around, did the normal askin, followed a couple hollow rumors, then came back. You would have been bored anyway. Why? You think I would lie about it?”
“Do I think you would? Yes. Cause you lie to make me feel better. You do it all the time.” There was a beat that no one commented on. Hiyori couldn’t bring herself to see Yato’s reaction to that attack on a very recent wound.
“Well that clearly isn't the case this time is it?” Yato said, then sighed and softened his tone, “there really was nothing Yukine but I just wanted to be sure. There’s no law in the underworld and I don’t want you anywhere near that place.” The man finally turned and fully faced the boy he claimed as his own. Yukine regarded Yato for a couple moments longer, just as water started to rise over his hazel irises. Suddenly and harshly, Yukine got off his seat.
“If you don’t trust me to have your back and you don’t want me around just say so. Stop coming back already.” Snarled Yukine. He left the saloon and Hiyori knew he would be heading to the Inn where one of the rooms was permanently his and Yato’s. Beside her, Yato chugged the rest of his beer then slammed it back on the counter with a sigh. Daikoku chided him and took it, wiping it clean with disdain.
“Don’t worry, Yatty. He’s at that age. Yuki didn’t mean it, he just missed you and rather go on your adventures than stay here,” Kofuku offered.
“That’s what he doesn’t get. They’re not adventures,” Yato scratched his neck, “I’m out of bullets.” The implication silenced the young women.
“Still, the boy’s right about one thing, he’s growin up. Can’t tell him what to do forever,” Daikoku eventually butted in, placing a new mug of beer in front of Yato.
“Watch me,” Yato pouted. That got a small giggle out of Hiyori which might have quirked the tip of Yato’s lip just a little. Kofuku and Daikoku hummed and shared a look. Eventually, Yato downed the rest of his drink before getting up.
“Hiiro is out back. Needs a bath,” Yato said.
“Pay for your beer.” Daikoku answered.
“Put it on my tab,” Yato knocked on the bar.
“Like hell-”
“Okie dokie, Yatty! See you at dinner!” Kofuku waved. Yato pointed at her with a finger gun, clicking as his thumb mimicked the hammer. He grabbed both gunstraps and lazily swung the weapons over one shoulder. Taking two steps, Yato looked over his shoulder, one blue eye meeting hers from under his hat.
“You comin?” Yato tilted his head. Despite the looks their friends gave her, a large smile grew on Hiyori’s face and she happily hopped off the stool.
“Yeah!” She followed the cowboy in grungy clothes out the bar and into the Inn. Since it was still late afternoon, the place was just about empty. The wooden rooms and wool sheets too hot on a summer day. Hiyori took a deep breath, feeling free from the stares of others in town with nothing to do but spread rumors. Still, she was very aware of the man standing behind her, always a bit too close, and she turned to face him. Hiyori would have to wait until later tonight to hear his tales. Yato was too good at telling stories and always insisted on drawing to go with it. Once Yukine finishes reading and goes to bed, Yato and the rest of the town congregate at The Lucky Lady for drinking, dancing, and music. It was then that Hiyori- and sometimes her teasing friends- would get Yato to herself.
“How are the folks?” Yato broke the silence.
“They’re okay. Since the water’s been going, my father’s been trying to find ways to give strong medicine that uses less water.”
“What a coincidence,” Yato hummed, “every lead I tried to follow on your brother ended up being about the water crisis.”
“You think he’s following the drought?” Hiyori asked, urgently.
“Couldn’t say. He’s never struck me as the heroic type, to go galavanting off and save the world; but it is suspicious. Unfortunately, once I got deep in the drought debacle his name would vanish,” Yato shrugged, “it’s all anyone’s talkin about.” At some point Yato’s shoulders slumped and Hiyori sighed. This was the fifth time Yato came back with dead ends. It wasn’t his fault. Not only was he right- in that her brother was known to ride by the seat of his pants- but the job required him to stay away for long periods of time. Tracking someone like that kept him away from Yukine and other people who missed him. Still, disappointment hung her head.
“I’m so sorry, Hiyori. I promise I’m going to keep looking.” Yato put a hand on her shoulder and Hiyori took it in both of hers.
“What about Yukine?”
“I don’t know. I’m gonna to take him this time around but- I just don’t know where this leads. And you know how he is. You’ve seen him loiter around the school house in the past. I just don’t think it’s good for him to be growin up on the run.” Yato mumbled. He twinded their fingers together and the box inside her jolted again, but settled when he did nothing more.
“Daikoku’s right, you know, every day it becomes more and more his decision.” Hiyori offered him a small smile. He blinked at her before the cocky smile Yato was known for grew across his lips. He brought their hands up and pressed a light kiss to the back of her glove.
“I’ve missed you, darlin’,” he said. The box inside her was getting harder to keep closed, memories of his previous visits flashing across Hiyori’s eyes. Really, she wondered if Daikoku knew she failed to heed his warning. It was no wonder people caught her staring at that horizon and sighing with longing.
“Yato,” Hiyori tried, pulling her hand slightly but not letting go. A look of hurt flashed across Yato’s face- so familiar to her own when she watched him leave and come back with new scars- and Hiyori almost wanted to hit him. But instead his eyes quickly darkened and he squeezed her hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re not a filly anymore? That gun smith with the cheap products gotcha or are your parents makin you drag your rope?”
“None of that!” Hiyori huffed. She took her hand back and turned around, arms crossed.
“Not that it has anything to do with anything! Since I hired you to find my brother while-”
“While you stay here and take his place and care for the family business and not go off with Kouto because that would be leaving ‘em behind,” Yato repeated, “come off it, Hiyori. Your parents are adults and you have your own life. Just admit you want to have your own adventure.”
“And where do you suppose I go? Just to wander around by myself? Or were you planning on taking me and not Yukine?” Hiyori whirled on him, tired of this do-si-do of a conversation.
“It’s too dangerous with me,” Yato said through grit teeth, hat tilted to cover his knitted brows.
“So what then? You’ll drop us off in random towns while you go back and forth?” Hiyori threw out without much of a bite. There was a moment of Yato staring at the floor and Hiyori rolled her eyes. Of course the fool of a man would think that was a good idea. She stepped back in front of him and reached under his hat to pinch his cheek.
“Ow!” Yato flinched away. He rubbed his cheek like some little kid who got a light smack and Hiyori snorted. How did she once fear him? His pout was back but not for long, blue eyes softening at her laughter.
“I just want you to be happy. You only get one life you know,” Yato said, hand dropping from his cheek.
“And I’ll decide what I want to do with it. Just like Yukine.” Hiyori’s reminder quieted the cowboy down.
“I just don’t want to drag him into another one of my mistakes. He deserves better.” Yato said. Hiyori frowned, reminded of Yukine’s earlier comment.
“He doesn’t blame you.” She offered. About ten years ago, when Yato traveled with a group of bandits who’s name struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it, they rode into Yukine’s place of birth. Hiyori had met Yukine, seeing Yato in passing now and again, she came to understand Yukine’s memory of that night was hazy at best. That was until a year ago, Yato first took off to find Hiyori’s brother, and the boy’s memories resurfaced. He confronted Yato, learning the fate of his birth town.
“I know he doesn’t blame me but you saw how he was. How he gets when I pull the trigger. I worry he’ll grow to resent me.” Yato sighed, “you know, I remember that night like it was yesterday. I was young and he was so tiny, the town was burnin down all around us, his loved ones were bloody behind ‘im. Just as I turned Hiiro around to run, he ran after me with his little arms up. I scooped Yukine up without thinkin and took off in the opposite direction of the group.
“I don’t know how but Hiiro and I managed to run for an entire night and I didn’t put him down for one second. It wasn’t until Hiiro finally bucked us off that I realized he hadn’t moved. I- haha- I actually thought he was dead and I had been carryin’ ‘round a corpse. But when I looked down, his head buried in my chest, he peaked up at me with big doe eyes. No tears, no fear. We passed out right there in the dirt. I thought he’d be okay but he didn’t speak at all. I was gonna drop him off at the next town but I just-. He wouldn’t talk- barely looked at me- but was stuck to my side like he was made of molasse or somethin’.” Yato was staring off into the distance, not realizing he was still talking. Hiyori watched and listened quietly, as she often did. Something must have happened in the underworld and she wanted to let him cope. Twelve people was twelve too many for a kind man like him.
“The little bastard grew on me. Starin at me while I babbled, sleepin on my tummy, clutchin my coat and tuggin to sit up front. Honestly, when I stretched, he stretched, I pissed, he pissed, I cleaned my guns, he’d use a stick, when I held onto the reins, he’d grabbed ‘em too,” Yato sighed again, voice wavering, “But he was so nervous around me, jumpy. Always looked at me to make sure he could move even an inch- wouldn’t even eat until I told him to. He deserved better. I figured Kofuku and Daikoku would want him to raise as their own. When I got here and I thought he was comfortable enough, I mounted to get ready to go but he came running out crying. Sobbing even. His arms up at me. That was- that was the first time I heard him speak. He said ‘don’t leave!’ And I just couldn’t. Sure I stayed for a year or so but I couldn’t keep out of work that long. And he used to be okay- happy even- when I’d give ‘im my ascot or hat to keep safe till I came back.” Yato’s eyes were covered but his lip trembled before he bit it, trying to control his breathing.
Yukine’s recent confrontation about that day- the accusations and disappointment Yukine regretted saying- scratched every wound of guilt Yato felt. It was hard to smile for a child that looked up to you while you blamed yourself for his circumstances. It was even harder to keep leaving. They did make up, as they always did, but it had been a painful experience that Yato still hasn’t forgiven himself for; no matter how much Yukine reassured him.
“Yukine remembers everything and still choose you. He looks up to you, Yato, and loves you just as much. Yukine’s not going to suddenly regret everything and leave,” Hiyori put a hand on his chest, “and neither will I.”
“I don’t know about the ‘look up to’ part but uh,” Yato swallowed thickly around a wobbling smile.
“It’s true, I can tell,” Hiyori leaned in to whisper, “you know he calls you his dad when he talks about you.”
“He does not!” Yato gasped.
“We promised not to say anything.”
“Uh-huh,” Yato looked down quickly then back, “and what do you call me when I’m gone.”
“Saddle Bum,” Hiyori stated.
“Yeah,” Yato sighed, “you got me there.” He huffed out a laugh which only got stronger the more they looked at each other.
“We should probably get Yukine,” Hiyori suggested.
“You’re right,” Yato said, “as usual. Bested again by Miss Iki. Just can’t argue with you, the lush oasis saving me from my weary travels.” They made their way up the stairs and down the hall of bedrooms.
“That’s right, you can’t. So stop trying.” Hiyor playfully huffed.
“Yes ma’am,” Yato swooned. Turns out Yukine wasn’t in their room and instead was around the back of the saloon to tend to Hiiro. By the time the two moseyed around the two buildings, Yukine had washed down the horse- the mare really loved water- and was cleaning her hooves. Hiiro was a short, exceedingly loyal, black horse who hated when her mane got too long and had the most fickle personality even with people she liked. Her ears twitched as her rider walked towards them, shifting back and forth, as Yukine leaned against her hindquarters and scrapped at her back hoof.
“You were right, you really do have the hang of that,” Yato whistled. Running his hand along her clean hair. She snapped at Yato but nickered when Hiyori patted her pink nose.
“She doesn't like it when you do it,” Yukine shot after a couple beats.
“Of course she does,” Yato said, skirting around the horse. Hiyori chose to stay by Hiiro’s front, watching Yukine give Yato a quick glare over his shoulder.
“So, when are you leaving?” Yukine growled. Hiyori tried not to suck in air too loudly as Yato’s wide eyes flickered to hers then back.
“N-not for a while. Gotta go over the clues and make a more solid plan,” Yato’s boot kicked the dirt, “I’m gonna need your help with that. Like always,” he tried. Yukine was not impressed, hardly sparing Yato a scoff.
“Why bother? It’s clear you don’t trust me to watch your back.” The blonde muttered. Finally, Yato’s hands fell out of his pockets and his attitude grew into something more serious.
“What gave you that idea?” Yato followed the kid around to the other hoof, brows knitted. This time, Yato was ignored and the cowboy tapped the kid with his boot.
“Yato,” Hiyori warned under her breath.
“Hey,” Yato tapped Yukine’s side again, “would I have given you twin pistols if I didn’t trust you with them behind my back?” The tip of his boot nudged one of the revolvers at Yukine’s hip, silver twins just like Yato’s, named “Blessed” and “Burial.” That got the teen to look up at Yato, frown still in place.
“No,” Yukine mumbled.
“And you know why? Cause you only give-”
“Cause you only give weapons to those who have your back and disarm those who don’t, I know,” Yukine parroted.
“I need to get more phrases,” Yato muttered as he scratched his head.
“But giving weapons is not the same! I want to be with you! I want to do all the same things you do, by your side! I mean I’m supposed to be your-!” Yukine bit his lip and quickly refocused on Hiiro’s hoove. Yato’s eye brows rose to his hat for a moment before a grim expression took root.
“I killed twelve people in the last four months,” Yato stated. There was a beat of silence as the wind pushed a tumbleweed across the ground. Yukine tried to hide the shock- the horror- that shot across his face, but Yato caught every inch of it.
“So what?” Yukine spat weakly, “you act like I’ve never seen someone die.”
“I don’t want you to see anymore.”
“Well that isn’t your choice is it? Or do you not want me to be like you that badly? I was there too, you know.” Yukine finally snapped, whipping around to glare at Yato. There were tears in his eyes, boiling with frustration, but no one commented on it. Yato couldn’t think of anything to say and Hiyori clenched Hiiro’s reins. The mare was getting restless with her rider’s change in attitude.
“I know you were there and I’m sorry,” Yato confessed, “I’m not anyone you should strive to be. You don’t have to be anything for me, you don’t owe me nutin.” He kicked at the ground again and Hiyori wanted to roll her eyes. Honestly, such a fool of a man.
“I know that,” Yukine muttered too, now just as embarrassed, “I’m not trying to owe you. I just think-” the boy’s face rose in temperature and neither man could look at each other or address their feelings. Eventually Yato let out a huge sigh mixed with a groan.
“Well, everyone’s telling me what a man you are now and that I gotta let you make your own decisions. Can’t keep you caged forever or that won’t protect you in the long run,” Yato finally relented.
“So I can come? With you?” Yukine sprang to his feet, “and you’ll stop dropping me off here? I can be with you for every job?” Fists balled Yukine stood on the tips of his matching boots to stare wide eyed at Yato. The man blinked again, something fragile crossing his eyes before he smiled.
“Suppose so. Unless you want to come back, which you can any time,” Yato said.
“Yes!” Yukine suddenly remembered he was supposed to be an adult and straightened out, “and you promise this time? No tricks? No lies? No gimmicks?” He pointed up at Yato who finally snorted out a laugh.
“Nothin of the sort, o partner o’ mine,” Yato held up a hand, “honest.”
“Both hands,” Yukine narrowed his eyes. With a scoff Yato held up both hands like he was at gunpoint.
“I swear it,” Yato vowed, “on my only son.” Finally the dam broke and Yukine went back to his beaming smile.
“Yes!” Yukine pulled at his own ascot, “I won’t let you down! I promise!” The boy crouched to gather his materials only for Yato to crouch with him.
“I know you won’t, you’re my kid after all,” Yato took off his hat and put it on Yukine’s head, smushing it down with a laugh, “and I’m mighty proud of ya.” The two boys shared a laugh and Hiyori finally turned and gave them their space.
“But chu-know, we gotta get you your own hat. The tips of my ears are all crusty,” Yato gripped.
“Just get a different hat!”
“It’s my hat!”
“Then don’t leave for so long!”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just get your own hat.”
“I had one! Before you made me drop it in the river!”
“Oh I made you, yeah okay, and who made you that hat in the first place?”
“Well you should-” Yukine continued to argue, back with his old spunk. Hopefully they would get to spend some time together before she watched the two of them leave this place behind. That painful tug in her chest was getting harder to ignore.
Until a gunshot sounded across the desert and embedded itself in the dirt. Hiiro reared into the air, letting out a cry of alarm as Yato and Yukine readied their arms. Hiyori immediately ran to the back of the buildings and hid behind a small pile of crates. While shoot outs didn’t happen as often as they did in other towns, they were enough for her to know what to do. A tall figure stepped gracefully off of a blonde, raggedy stallion, high heel boots crusting the dirt beneath. Another couple figures in matching law uniforms dismounted but didn’t ready their weapons. Instead they eyed the standoff with wariness and annoyance. Hiyori sighed and stepped out from her hiding spot but stayed several feet away. Bent at Yato’s side, Yukine stood but kept one gun pointed, sharing a nod to the deputy sheriff across the way, who did the same. Meanwhile, Yato’s smile shifted to a dangerous grin which was replied with a snarl.
“Skank.” Yato greeted Sheriff Bishamon.
“Vermin.” The blonde growled in return. Deputy Kazuma tried to calm her, reminding her that Yato’s previous transgressions have been pardoned and he has yet to cause another. But his pleas went unheard. The two took slow steps forward, guns steadily aimed right between the eyes.
“You got nerve showin’ your face in my town,” Bishamon said.
“Why’s that? Don’t tell me it’s not big enough?” Yato joked. This didn’t go over well, the woman took a shot in front of Yato’s feet. The man yelled some sort of curse as he stumbled back, pushing Yukine behind him despite the kid’s protests. Yato’s gun remained pointed, trained by experience. Though the cowboy was clearly at a disadvantage, the sheriff having two bands of bullets criss-crossing over her chest.
“Come on, I’m just here for some good drinks, a fun time at Kofuku’s,” Yato said, “besides, shouldn’t you be on vacation? Aren’t you back a little early?” The man took another step. Hiyori’s fists tightened as she saw the hand signals Yato was giving Yukine from behind his back.
“That deviersion you had Miss Kofuku do? To have me run to her uncle while you tried to sneak around in my town? Not a chance.” Her eyes hardened but Deputy Kazuma already had a hand on her gun. It wasn’t until Yato’s eyes slid to meet Hiyori’s- the question clear in his expression- that the box from deep within shook and burst open. The confirmation she gave was with the tiniest of nods and their eye contact was over just as fast as it started. In an instant the situation changed; Yukine had mounted Hiiro who rose to her hindlegs with a loud cry and soon Yato was up too, shooting at the law’s horses to scare them. While Bishamon was distracted, Yato took the reins from Yukine and drove Hiiro towards the young lady.
“Wha-? What are you doing? You idiot!” Yukine was already turned around, guns pointed behind them, watching Yato’s back. The kid went ignored, Yato had his eyes trained on Hiyori’s, intense stare eclipsing his grin.
“Come on!” Yato held out his hand. Hiyori moved without another thought, grabbing his hand and letting herself be yanked on the thundering black stead. Her body fell roughly across the blackened cowboy.
“Wait!” Hiyori cried as they dashed around the corner and down the main road, “what about our-? My things?” Her concerns were covered by wisps of her hair and Hiyori had to brush them aside to see Yato throw his head back and laugh.
“Relax! We’re just taking a stroll until the armadillo-woman cools off,” Yato looked down at her and winked, “we haven’t danced at Kofuku’s yet right?”
“Gross! Stop being such a creepy old man! You’re lucky Daikoku even lets you back into that bar!” Yukine yelled at them. Yato’s laughter was contagious and soon it spread to Hiyori, the young woman clinging to the cowboy as he took her on an adventure.
#noragami#noragami fanfic#fanfic#noragami au#western au#yato#yukine#hiyori#Hiyori iki#yato day#happy yato day!!
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Lifting the Sea
“Where’s Cas?”
Dean does a full comedic rotation before spotting the Angel— his husband— whatever, scowling at his phone near a landmark.
He shrugs, “Catching those little monster dudes probably. Apparently they’re all over the place here.”
Sam’s brow furls, he looks over at Eileen who shrugs.
“What?”
“You know that fuckin’ app that everybody was obsessed with like... 5 years ago? Pocket something something”
Sam frowns for a split second then it hits him.
“Pokémon go?”
“Yeah that shit.” Dean shrugs again, his green eyes still fixed on the man in question. “I knew it was a mistake getting a smartphone” but he doesn’t sound nearly as bothered as he claims. He glares upward. “It’s fucking hot”
Sam’s also dart up. “I mean. It’s the beach Dean.” He stares pointedly at his brother’s attire. “Would it kill you to buy some shorts maybe a tshirt?”
Dean pulls a face, but doesn’t argue, Cas is waving happily- just now noticing how far they’ve walked away from him. He points excitedly to his phone and says something.
“Can’t hear—” Dean sighs, “CAN’T HEAR YA CAS, you’re too far” he yells, smiling softly. “Asshole.”
Dean points at the nearby shop, waving to get Sam’s attention, a couple kids are clustered around Cas chattering to him animatedly.
“Sam. Can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back”
~~~
When Dean walks back out into the sunshine Cas has finally decided to join them. He’s signing to Eileen and going intensely through the alphabet. Probably more about that damn Pokémon game.
Sam whistles, “I’m blind” he laughs. “Your legs, they’re reflecting the sun”
Dean flips him off.
“No, but for real Dean, have your thighs ever been exposed to light? Are you sure it’s safe?”
“HA, HA, fuck you”
Cas turns at his voice, eyes glowing happily, and how in the hell did Dean Winchester get so lucky.
“I caught a Charizard in the wild Dean, none of the other players were able to capture him” He informs proudly, phone still out, finger flipping with precision, “You have very nice legs” he adds. “The sunlight will cause you to have more freckles, plus the added health benefits of vitamin D”
Dean winks, “Any nude beaches out here? I could benefit from your vitamin d”
Sam retches, seizing the umbrella from Dean and heading toward the beach. “You two are disgusting”
Dean waves cheerily before turning back to his boyfriend— husband.
“So What’s a charred—“
“Charizard.” Cas corrects, “dragon fire type”
“Uh-huh” Dean reaches for Cas’ hand, it takes him a second to get used to flicking with his thumb, but he manages, Dean lets Cas lead. “Did you bully those kids out of their dragon? Dragons suck dude.”
“It is very rare to catch in the wild, Edwin told me, he is one of the top players in this region, he is 12, and though he is Team Valor, and I am team Instinct, I decided to trust him.”
“Whatever you say babe.”
“I think you might enjoy this game Dean, it combines hunting and tracking with less bloodshed and all of the monsters seem kind.” Cas squints suddenly, yanking them out of the flow of traffic and down onto the beach. “I see combees.”
~~
“Handsome and artistic, you’ve gotta be a serial killer right?”
Dean raises his head, shielding his eyes in the sun. She’s tall, and curvy with sparkling eyes and a near perfect smile.
“I don’t know about artistic, but I never murder and tell”
She throws out a hand.
“I’m Clarice”
“Dean.”
She notices the lift of his expression and rolls her eyes good naturally, “Yeah like Silence of the Lambs”
“Put the lotion in the basket” he intones with a mock accent.
“Yeah that never gets old”
He laughs and she smiles and takes a seat on the beach chair beside him.
“What brings you out here into the sunshine?”
“Celebratin’.” His eyes turn back to his sketchbook, thumb smudging a carefully drawn mop of black hair.
“Oh, that’s fun, how old are you?” She doesn’t seem bothered by his in attention, sips her drink and watches him sketch.
“Ah um” He shifts and does the mental math. “Forty-three I think...”
“Looking good” she says appreciatively. He’s too focused on the lines, eyes occasionally darting to the ocean, quite obviously only half listening. She’s not put off yet- no ring on his finger, only a necklace with two silver circles and that could mean anything.
“So uh, a couple of my friends are headed down into the—“
“DEAN!”
His attention is immediately diverted, a man waist-deep in the frigid surf is pointing excitedly at something, he’s still wearing his snorkel mask. He pulls something free of the water- revealing a long, lean wriggling shape.
“Is that a fucking shark?” Dean mutters in disbelief, then much louder “CAS is that a fucking shark?”
A giant man with longer hair stops splashing the woman with him, turns and starts cackling. The shark handler pulls his mask off, beaming. “Jack would love this!”
Clarice shades her eyes and takes a good look at the man with the shark and then at the drawing Dean’s been working on.
“Who’s that?” She asks, his distraction giving her a better chance seeing what’s in his sketchbook.
A lovingly rendered drawing of what looks like the man with the shark. But in the sketch it’s in a much different position, hair ruffled in detail over his brow. Blankets pooled around his barely covered hipbones. His eyes burn with inner heat despite the fact that they’re merely pencil on paper. His subject had clearly been in love with whomever he’d been looking at.
“That is my boyfriend, he’s gonna get his nipple bit off if he’s not careful.” Dean’s smiling cause Sam is trying to talk Cas into releasing the shark and is clearly failing. “Oh hell, I guess husband now.”
She stands, “I am so sorry, I didn’t realize. I gotta—“
“Nice to meet you Clarice” he says, honestly surprised by her quick exit. “Yo STEVE IRWIN. put the shark down and come up here— time to reapply sunblock”
~~
“Who was that woman?” Cas asks, shaking like a dog and stirring a loud swearing session out of Dean as he shields his sketchbook from the saltwater.
“What woman?”
“The one speaking to you earlier? When I caught the shark?”
Dean looks completely vacant before remembering. “Oh shit, yeah! Clarice or something. Nice lady.”
Cas nods, waiting patiently while Dean starts applying sunscreen to his back.
“Did she need something?”
Dean shrugs, “just being friendly I guess, lean close. I gotta get your nose”
Cas hums and obliges, he grins suddenly and rips open a Velcro pocket in his trunks revealing his prize to Dean.
“Is that a goddamn crab Castiel?”
The angel nods happily. “We should find out if Claire can FaceTime. She would love to see.”
~~
Claire and Kaia lean close, Dean’s got the camera aimed so that it’s mostly sky and their foreheads. Cas is smushed against his cheek waving.
“Jesus.” Claire hisses. “Hold the damn camera still. Dean— look, YOU’RE the square in the corner.”
Kaia hasn’t stopped giggling since they connected.
“How is Kansas?” Cas asks. “Are you well?”
Claire rolls her eyes. “You’ve been gone two days. It’s the same Cas— house burned down and a ghoul attack—“
The camera reels, two deep gruff voices start speaking rapidly.
“She’s joking!” Kaia intervenes. “Castiel, Dean. She’s joking. We’re fine and safe, worst thing that happened is we ran out of coffee.”
He nods seriously— the left side of Dean’s face is unamused.
“Tell them not to put damn Walmart coffee in my coffee machine—“
Cas lifts a blurry item into view. “I caught a crab today,”
She freezes only for a moment, crabs had been her thing in 1st grade. Her dad had shared some of his favorite memories with Cas; she was realizing that he did it because he trusted the angel. The crab thing was a new one— he seems proud though, pleased that he remembered.
“He also caught a fucking shark with his bare hands.” Dean adds, taking the phone back, view now up his nostrils. They’re both sunburned and nearly glowing with happiness. “Almost lost a nipple”
“I did not.” It’s Cas’ turn to roll his eyes. “I will send you photographs via messaging after the call.”
“When are you guys headed back?” Claire asks, cause she’s pleased about the pictures and doesn’t know how to admit it.
Dean turns the camera again. This time slightly more centered.
“Sam and Eileen are heading home tomorrow, but Cas says he has more surprises for me and “undomesticated equine could not drag the secrets from him’”
Dean and Claire snort simultaneously.
“I was being funny.” Cas interjects, Dean laughs at something off camera and grabs his face, kissing Cas’ cheek. “I know the saying.”
“Gotta go.” Dean says, with a wink. “Gotta get our vitamin D for the day, right Sunshine?”
The camera tips; Cas is frowning in confusion and they can barely see the top of Dean’s now suggestively wagging eyebrows.
“Oh. Uh. Yes.” Cas looks guiltily at the phone and shakes his head at Dean. “Vitamins.”
Kaia starts wheezing with laughter. It dawns on Claire moments later.
“That’s fucking gross.”
Cas shrugs apologetically, Dean’s laughter fills the background.
“We appear to be having connection issues.” Cas mutters, They watch Cas fumble with the phone as he frantically tries to hang up before Dean does anything scandalous.
“See you in a week!” Dean shouts. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Bye...” the screen goes dark and Claire is left with her and Kaia’s amused reflections. “Dads.”
~~
If you liked this it’s connected to my ao3 vibesandwonders. Come say hey here and see the rest of the series
#destiel honeymoon#destiel#dean winchester#Castiel#sam winchester#eileen leahy#casdean#ficlet#spn#supernatural#domestic destiel#domestic deancas#kaia nieves#claire novak#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spn drabble#spn destiel
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hello! i wanna request another thing because i will never let u sleep :). maybe an enemies to lovers type thing with safin where both of you and he are assassins and are always paired together for missions despite the fact that u hate each other? also i absolutely adored that last fic u did for me. thanks!
Incorrigible
Pairing: Safin x Gender neutral! Reader
Summary: (of a person or their tendencies) not able to be corrected, improved, or reformed.
Word-Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Minor blood description
A/N: Thank you so much for this request! This is actually two other requests combined from @the-urban-misfits and @thisuserlikesmarvel28 !! Of course, you will never let me sleep! Sleep is for the weak, but I am weak. I’m so upset about the NTTD delay! All I wanted was some Safin content🥺 But thank god fanfiction is here! This is purely speculation on the character. If NTTD won’t come out, then I will WRITE that film myself. Anyways, sorry for the rant. Hope you enjoy this! I love the requests you guys send in❣️✨
Masterlist
“Incoming target. She’s wearing a red dress. Safin and y/n, keep your ground.”
The Beirut sunburned onto your black turtleneck. It was humid in the toxin-filled city. The chatter and honking from the busy city streets came from below. After hours of waiting on a rooftop, the quartermaster had finally broken his silence. Your eyes glanced towards Safin, who straightened his position. For the long hours you had been in the sun, Safin hadn’t moved from his position.
He was leaned up against a creme wall in shade to conceal his appearance. Drops of sweat peered down his scarred skin. Like you, he wore a dark turtleneck neatly tucked in his dark cargo pants. The heat and hours of boredom had gotten to the both of you. His neatly gelled hair was becoming disheveled as small little curls stuck to his skin.
You had gotten distracted before his accented voice interrupted you.
“What are you looking at?”
Blinking your eyes, you eased yourself into a position. Closing one eye, your finger squeezed the trigger. It was a busy crowd, full of commotion. “Nothing.”
“I cannot believe I am stuck babysitting a child.” He coldly muttered.
It took you a second to decipher his words. Upon understanding them, a wave of anger surged in you. You were hot and bothered. The last thing you wanted was to be ridiculed.
“Excuse me?”
Safin stayed silent. His finger covered his ear to listen to the static noise from his earpiece.
“Must I repeat myself?” Safin groaned. “No matter what mission, Blofield always throws you with me. Everything you touch turns to chaos. He thinks of me as a babysitter.”
It was a dumb idea. Looking away for a second, you turn to scold him. Just as you opened your mouth, Safin placed his finger onto your lip. He pressed down onto it. His skin was wrinkly and scared; harsh against your soft lips. He had no idea how livid you were.
Moving his finger with your hand, you hissed. “Don’t shush m-”
“What do you not understand? Be quiet.”
Safin seemed distracted as he aimed his weapon downwards. You weren’t thinking in the moment. All you felt was raw, utter rage.
“No! I’m sick of you telling me to b-”
Out of nowhere, there was a reign of bullets. You could see thousands behind Safin. Dropping his weapon, he lunged towards you. His arms wrapped around you as he covered you for shelter behind a crate. A pained groan escaped his mouth. The line of bullets continued for what seemed like forever before they clammed down. Safin’s heavy body laid on you, weighing you down.
As the bullets stopped, you could hear men in the back yelling in a foreign language. They were your enemies. Looking up, you shook Safin. His face was buried in your shoulder. As you shook him, you moved your hand up to show a red sticky liquid.
Safin had been shot.
Not only did you have someone dying on you, but now you had a group of men trying to kill you. Your trusted rifle had been pushed to the side; it was too risque to grab it without being shot. Patting Safin’s back, you pulled a Walther PPK out of his pocket. To why he had this confused you, but it was all you had.
Gently pushing Safin off of you, you titled your head upwards and began to shoot. After hitting a few men, more yelling and bullets were fired. After much back and forth, you had managed to kill all of the men. There was a small silence as you sat there, sweat dripping down your face as your breaths were heavy. You could hear the own beat of your heart pumping in your armor cladded chest.
The small amount of silence you had was interrupted by a groan. Turning over, it was none other than Safin. He had managed to take off his jacket and armor showing off his scarred chest. A bullet had gone clean through his upper back. A small puddle of blood was beginning to form. Shoving the Walther PPK into the belt of your pants, you ran towards Safin roll his body over.
“You are incorrigible!” Safin ranted, looking up at you with anger. He tried to sound mean, but he was in pain. Holding back an eye roll, you simply ignored him. Ripping a piece of your turtleneck, you applied pressure on his wound. Safin tried to hold back a pained moan, but couldn’t.
“That hurts!”
“Hold still, then.” You shushed. Leaning into your earpiece, you stated. “Anyone there? Safin is injured. I need medical detail. I repeat, Safin is injured.”
“Bring him down to the bay. I’ll have Primo pick you up in a black range rover.”
Muttering a small “fuck”, you wrap your arm around Safin and pull him up. Hearing his small moans of pain made you roll your eyes. As you dragged him towards the door, Safin titled his head to look at you.
“Thank you, y/n.”
“What?” Looking into his milky eyes, you couldn’t understand his low statement. You were still shaken from the previous events.
“I said, thank you. For saving my life.”
You were caught off guard by his words. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you turn to look at him. Instead of having a serious face on, Safin looks exhausted and hurt. Was he being genuine?
“Your welcome, Safin.”
Walking out of the building, Primo awaited for the two of you. He was surprised to see you, a newbie in Spectre, carrying out one of their best assassins. Primo had walked over and helped Safin into the car. Closing the car door, Primo had started the drive to whenever Spectre had sent you.
You were exhausted. Eight hours in the Beirut sun was unenjoyable. Not only was it humid, but you had nearly been killed. If it hadn’t been for Safin’s warning and his hidden weapon, maybe you wouldn’t have survived. As much as you despised him, Safin had saved your life and you had saved his. An eye for an eye.
Not once did you complain about Safin leaning his head onto your shoulder. His thigh grazed against your thigh as he gently breathed into your shoulder. You looked over, taken back. Instead of pushing his head off, you rested your head onto his. As you slightly shifted into a more relaxed position, your eyes began to shut as the light faded away. All of your anxiety and worries had gone away.
Everything was at peace again.
#safin x reader#rami malek x reader#rami malek#safin#no time to die#rami malek imagine#james bond#James Bond x reader#my writing
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