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torukmaktoskxawng · 3 months

Text

run away with me

Pairing: Nor/Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Avatar Frontiers of Pandora, fluff, angst, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: No one has requested me to write for AFoP so I decided to take matters into my own hands *cracks knuckles* Let's get to work.

This is basically my rendition of the cutscene you see when playing the game, after the title card. I made it lean more toward the angsty, romance play that we were robbed of when the game finally came out XD Enjoy!

Part 2

When So'lek told you that Nor had left Resistance HQ to have some time to think, you knew you needed to seek him out.

Using your new abilities and talents to track him down, it didn't shock you when you found Nor on one of the highest cliffs near the base of their new home. You remember he made a comment earlier about how there were more colors on Pandora than he remembered and how he had no names for them. You suspected he'd be all the way out here, admiring those colors and maybe trying to invent new names for them.

He didn't react when you approached the small fire he made, likely expecting you to come find him. He turned to face you with lowered ears and a forlorn look in his eyes, "What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we've become?"

"We're still Sarentu."

"Teylan barely speaks our tongue, but then... he always preferred human words."

"Alma says we all need time to adjust."

"Alma is not Na'vi." He growled lowly, turning away to kneel down in front of the fire.

You weren't deterred by his attitude, knowing Nor better than you sometimes knew yourself. He felt things stronger than most. He was passionate about what or how he felt and he wasn't afraid to admit it, hence why he didn't shy away when he proudly proclaimed his feelings toward you. It was years ago now, just the night before Alma snuck you and your friends into cryosleep to wait out the war. All that time you could've been with Nor... lost to cryosleep.

Nor felt the same loss as well, and that is why he wasn't wasting any more time. When neither of you are out on missions, you're with each other, safe at HQ, making up for lost time. Your relationship is technically still new and can easily be chalked up to young love, but Nor didn't see it that way. He claimed that was the way only Sky People saw it, but not the Na'vi. He wanted to do this right, and in his mind, the only right way was the Na'vi way.

So he asked So'lek for advice, on standard Na'vi customs and what the older man might know about the Sarentu ways to court someone. Nor was determined and straightforward about what he wanted to make sure you only got the best treatment. The Na'vi treatment, something that you deserved to have when you were younger but it was taken from you.

That's what you loved about him, growing up beside him. He reminded you so much of your sister at times with their shared determination as kids, though you refused to continue making that comparison after she died... afraid that if Nor acted too much like Aha'ri, then he would die just like her. You couldn't bear to lose him, too, not after everything Mercer and TAP have done to you.

Even now, as you two stood on top of that cliff, you were afraid of losing him, either to death or to life, should life and fate decide to tear you two apart. You wished you could vocalize your fear to him, but you were never as brave or as straightforward as Nor. You were grateful he had approached you about his feelings first, or else neither of you would've ever known.

Although you were not one with words, you were one with actions, and even Nor knew that you communicated with deeds.

Walking up to him, you slide your hand over his shoulder, and while he doesn't say a word, trapped with the demons in his head, he places his own hand on top of yours, a gesture of gratitude. He was thankful for your comfort, knowing that your way of communicating stems from being touch-starved and you would rather voice your thoughts through your actions instead of just saying them because, to you, that means so much more.

You keep your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of his palm bleeding into your skin while you look up and over the cliffside, admiring the scenery with a sad tone in your voice, "Why did the RDA come back?"

"They wanted more of Pandora," he responds with defeat, "They always do."

"Then we'll need to fight," you express with determination, squeezing his shoulder, "Aha'ri would have wanted us to fight."

You try to pull away, but Nor is suddenly too fast. He grasps your hand, gently, and you pause in your movement. He stands to his full height to gaze into your eyes, trying to relay what he's thinking without saying a word. But he wasn't like you. He wasn't good at sharing his thoughts through actions. He was better at it by talking, so that is what he did.

"Or we could run," he suggests and is quick to continue when the expression on your face falls, "Leave this place. Find somewhere else to call home."

"We've talked about this, Nor," you sigh tiredly, recalling not long ago when you, him, Ri'nela and Teylan were all sitting around a fire as Nor suggested they could all run away together. You express the same thing you said back then, too, "Alma brought us here for a reason. She believes in us."

He snarls, though there isn't much heat behind it, "Alma just wants to control us."

Not even you believed what he was saying, lowering your voice to a comforting whisper, "Alma is not Mercer. She actually cares about us as People."

"She left us."

"She thought we were gone."

He steps closer until he's nearly pressed against your chest, his hands sliding up to gently grasp both sides of your face, entwined in your hair. His voice wavered, desperate eyes staring back into yours, "If it were me instead of her, I would've clawed through the rubble of TAP, and I would've looked forever. Un... until I knew for sure if I lost you or not."

You wanted to be touched by the statement, your heart fluttering in your chest while Nor could no doubt feel your heartbeat, pumping through his hands as they rested near both sides of your neck. You shake your head slightly, "That is different. What Alma feels for us is not the same as... as what you feel for me. For all of us."

He shivered, almost proud that you managed to admit your confidence in his feelings toward you. He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in the same air as you while he matches the intimate moment with a whisper, "Exactly. I can't trust Alma with my family. I can only trust myself or you to take care of the four of us, to ensure we stick together."

You wet your lips when they felt dry, deciding to play into his dream for a little bit, "Suppose we did run away... where would we go?"

'Wherever we want! All of us,' he wanted to say the same thing he told Teylan down by the campfire, but he says it differently with you, "Anywhere, far away from here."

"Just the four of us?"

"The four of us," he confirms with a nod, thinking that he had you convinced, "We'll start our own clan. We'll renew the Sarentu."

"And what will happen when the war eventually finds us?"

Your question drives Nor to freeze, and so you continue, "Either Mercer, RDA, or TAP, it won't matter. They'll find us. You know they will."

He unfroze finally, huffing with determination, "Then we will fight."

"But if we fight now, and we win, then we can leave and we will never have to worry about the Sky People again," your hands moved until they were wrapped around Nor's waist, a bold move to match his own, his fingers still wrapped up in the hair on the back of your neck,

"We would never have to keep running or look over our shoulders ever again," you continue, "If we can end this sooner than later, I will go with you. I'll go wherever you want. But... But I can't leave now knowing what the Sky People are capable of. I can't leave knowing that there would be another child out there whose clan was wiped out and I wasn't brave enough to stop it from happening. I would never forgive myself."

Your words stun him into silence, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to feel shy and embarrassed, lowering your head to avoid him until his hands pause your movement. He gently uses his thumbs to push your chin to tilt back up, and when your eyes meet, he pauses for a moment, his intense eyes scanning your expression before his lips twitch up into a small, fond smile, "Heh."

"What?" You tilt your head, hesitant but smiling as well.

"Nothing. It's just... Aha'ri would be proud of you."

He says it so confidently that you know you believe him, and his words make your heart swell with pride and grief, missing your sister. Nor leans back and digs in the pocket of his pants, "I have something for you."

"What is it?"

He provides a carved stone, bearing the mark you both have on your face to signify your long-lost clan, "It's something to remind you of me, whenever you leave HQ and I cannot follow you. It's also a promise."

"What promise?"

"That if I ever leave, it will only be when you are ready to come with me," he leans back into your space, pressing your foreheads together once more as he closes his eyes, taking in your scent, "This time, my love, I go wherever you go."

You clutch the stone in your hand, wanting the carved mark to brand into your skin as you close your eyes as well. You already plan to tie Nor's stone into the songcord So'lek had given you, and you hope that in time, the songcord will grow, and there will be many more milestones to signify. Milestones that you hope that Nor and your friends will share with you, as Sarentu and as your family.

MASTERLIST

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paradoxlemonade · 2 months

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Nature of Curiousity

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Characters: Joe & Cleo

words: 1024

Warnings: very mild body horror (Cleo is embroidering on Joe, but he's made of fabric and does not feel pain)

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Joe Hills the puppet wants to make friends with humans. The humans do not want to be made friends with. Cleo puts him back together afterwards. [Abecedarian Prose Poem]

@mcyt-valentines gift for @therizino-ao3! Hope you enjoy :]

...

A sunrise the color of a bitter lemon tea beckons in the fresh morning scent of grass and dreams, soft around the edges and losing their remaining sharpness as sleep turns to wakefulness. Beneath an old willow tree, a corpse as fresh as the day it died rests in the dewy grass and embroiders artful designs into her best friend’s shoulder.

Cleo huffs at him, “You know, it would’ve been nice if you had waited until at least breakfast to go galavanting around and get yourself shot by a humanfolk.”

Dauntlessly undeterred as per usual, Joe merely smiles serenely and says, “But I must watch them, as the rain must fall and snow must melt; it is in my nature, sewn into my skin.”

Even-spaced threads holding his innards on the right side of the felt are the only thing decorating his skin, by Cleo’s own observation.

“Fine as that may be, your ‘nature’ does not make you invincible to arrows.” Generally speaking, being made of cloth made Joe invincible to very little, save for perhaps pain and common sense. He would grow tired of his game eventually, and then he would stop attempting to consort with the humanfolk (at least, Cleo hoped he would tire of it).

“If I am endlessly repairable no matter my condition, is that not a form of invincibility?”

“Joe, you can only be repaired if I have the pieces to put you back together; if the humanfolk decide it would be more fun to capture you instead of running you off, you would be in more pieces than magic thread could possibly hold together.”

“Killjoys—that being people who deny my innermost whimsy, that being you—” he gestured at her with the arm not being worked on, “should not judge how one chooses to express themself, especially when they are themselves of humanfolk blood.”

Less ever said about one Joe Hills’ innermost whimsy, the more sane one would be, as neither consistency nor thoughts of sound minds are facets of his being.

Minutes flow around them like a gentle brook as Cleo continues her stitchwork and pointedly does not give his comments the dignity of a direct response, at least until she thinks of one worth saying.

“No humanfolk,” she began slowly, “Would consider me possible by their understanding of the world, let alone ‘of their blood’; I have not been theirs for a very long time.” One day was all it took to lose everything that she’d built over the course of her entire life, as one day was all it took for the sickness that ravaged her village like a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep to bury her in an early grave that she didn’t stay put in.

“Perhaps that much is fair and you have no love left for them, but I have never been theirs; the humanfolk ways are unlike our own, and I find myself pulled in again and again despite all attempts to the contrary.”

Quickly fleeting curiosity would be too much to ask, she supposed, as temporary passion was also as antithetical to Joe’s nature as he claimed sedation to be.

“Really, you can’t be all too mad at me for this, because if you were as upset as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have offered to sew me back up, and you certainly wouldn’t have added these nice yellow flowers without me needing to ask.”

She glances down to her hands as if seeing them for the first time that morning, the hands that gently wove the thread in and out of his fabric skin with a practiced ease and the comfort of a close friend. This conversation—despite its distances—has still grown much too close to an uncomfortable shard of glass nestled deep into her chest, digging and poking into the soft tissue beneath her heart that she could not excise no matter how strong her will.

“Unfortunately, we still live in a world where I need to sew you back up for reasons other than your own foolishness, and it’s not like I could simply let someone I’ve worked on walk around looking like I did the job carelessly.”

Vexed enough by her candid response, Joe allows the conversation to wander along to more familiar territory by changing the topic with all the subtlety he could muster—that is, not a whole lot.

“What type of flowers are these meant to be, anyway?” Joe asks, stretching to see Cleo’s handiwork.

“Xyris flowers, of some kind; they’re all over around here and you seem to like them well enough that I didn’t think you would mind if I put some on your arm.”

Yellow petals of soft thread cascade from the top of his shoulder down midway to his elbow, just shy of of meeting up with the dusky green vines—those were almost ready to come out, but the new stitches would have to stay for a few weeks so the fabric could knit itself back together. Zero weeks have gone in recent memory that did not end with one of Cleo’s friends needing stitches (usually Joe, and usually for silly and-or humanfolk reasons), but she never stopped pulling out her needle and thread before they could even apologize for bothering her.

And as Joe thanks her for the help and the flowers, she leads him back to her house for an early breakfast to cap off an odd morning, all the while dreaming of a world where the humanfolk and the otherfolk didn’t have to live on opposite sides of the veil, and Joe could make strangers into friends.

Better worlds and broken hearts are playing cards of the same set, but a card for resilience is also shuffled into that same deck. Crisp toast and peppery fried eggs aren’t quite miracle workers, but they’re enough to bring Cleo back up to normal when combined with good company. Dreams weren’t going to come true on their own, but maybe Joe was onto something with his adventures.

Everything considered, it took him an hour longer than last time to get run off.

#hermitcraft #mcyt #joe hills #zombiecleo #hermitcraft fic #idea writes #fanfic #idea original post

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sluttywonwoo · 11 months

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Here me out- a San/wooyoung threesome

making a deal with the devil choi san

details: bf!san x fem reader x bff!wooyoung

warnings: smut (18+;mdni), threesome, fingering, cliff hanger

word count: 1.8k

“tell my girlfriend she looks pretty, woo.”

wooyoung coughs abruptly like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed and stutters out an unconvincing “you… look pretty,” making both you and your boyfriend shoot him an unimpressed look.

“say it like you mean it,” san prompts again.

“you look really, really pretty,” wooyoung says automatically. you don’t have any trouble believing him this time.

“baby, what do you say?”

you duck your head bashfully. “thank you, woo.”

wooyoung grins at you shyly.

“get on the bed with her,” san orders him. wooyoung scrambles to obey.

he perches himself next to you, careful not to let any part of his body brush against yours. he won’t touch you until san gives him the green light, even though you can tell he so desperately wants to.

neither of you are quite sure what’s going through san’s mind right now as he stares the two of you down… he’s never been keen on sharing you in any manner— you’ve caught him glaring at the other guys when they make you laugh too hard for christ’s sake, so why is he letting his best friend fuck you?

you had both thought he was joking when he mentioned it, laughing at the mere thought of a threesome.

“i’m serious,” san insisted, making you both pause. “i know you want to. unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“san, what is this about?” you’d asked. he ignored you.

he stared straight past you at his best friend. “overheard your conversation with yunho.”

you turned your attention to wooyoung and watched the color drain from his face.

“i can explain-”

“i don’t really see how someone could misunderstand someone saying ‘yeah, man, i’d give anything to fuck her— if her boyfriend wasn’t my best friend and also someone i’m convinced could get away with murder.’”

wooyoung pursed his lips. “okay, well when you put it like that…”

“you put it like that when you said it to yunho in the middle of our kitchen!”

wooyoung whipped his head over to you as if he’d only just remembered you were also there. “i’m really sorry, y/n. you must feel so… grossed out. and objectified. and… god, i’m so fucking sorry.”

“she likes it,” san said, shrugging.

you gasped, affronted. “san!”

“only telling the truth, baby. bet you’re already making a mess in your panties over there.”

you didn’t grant him the satisfaction of confirming nor denying (lying) his claim. instead, you simply rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest like you were frustrated with him over something silly, something like groceries or laundry, not him telling his best friend what turns you on.

“so… what are you saying?“ wooyoung asked nervously.

“that if she wants to, you can have sex with my girlfriend. in front of me.”

“are you fucking with me? is this how you’re getting back at me for what i said?”

san shook his head. “i’m serious. but it’s up to her.”

now wooyoung is on san’s bed with you, awaiting further instruction. you’re practically vibrating with anticipation. no amount of deep breathing or counting to ten can calm your nerves.

san had known about your kink for a while now. you never expected him to indulge it aside from maybe a dirty comment here and there in bed. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to fully play into your fantasy and make into a reality.

“kiss her.”

wooyoung nods, acknowledging that he heard san, but doesn’t move. you help him out by leaning in his direction, hoping he’ll meet you halfway. with another nod of approval from san, he does, pressing his lips to yours so chastely you want to laugh.

it’s over before you can even register that it’s happening. wooyoung pulls away almost immediately.

“we really don’t have to do this, woo,” you assure him, hand finding his own and squeezing comfortingly.

“no, i want to,” he’s quick to insist. “trust me, i want to. i’m just so fucking nervous.”

“i guess i’ll just have to show you how it’s done,” san says with a sigh.

your boyfriend joins you on the bed, pushing wooyoung aside so that he can have you all to himself for a moment.

he slots his lips with yours, instantly pushing his tongue into your mouth. you moan, body going slack.

san catches you and lays you back on the mattress. he gets you to wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to make out with you, grinding against you through his pants.

wooyoung watches through lust-clouded glasses. that could’ve been him right now if he hadn’t been a coward. would san even let him touch you at this point? was the deal off now?

“help her get her pants off,” san tells wooyoung when he finally breaks away for air.

this time, he jumps into action. he scoots himself closer to the two of you on the mattress and slides his hands in between your body and san’s, searching blindly for the button of your jeans.

he finds it eventually and tries not to think about how he’s also brushing against his best friend’s dick as he fumbles to undo it. with that done, it’s easy to do the rest. you help him by arching your back and pushing your hips off the bed so that he can get them off without any trouble.

“nice job,” san praises him, rolling off of you. “now, kiss her.”

he props himself up on his elbow, not quite sure how to just lay himself on top of you like san had, but you don’t seem to mind. you turn onto your side to face him properly, smiling reassuringly. wooyoung feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. you always seemed to meet him where he was at, no matter where that might be.

he kisses you with a bit more confidence this time, copying the way san had slipped his tongue into your mouth. you moan, eagerly welcoming the change of pace.

his hand cups your cheek automatically, and he finds himself leaning into you, more and more until he’s hovering over you.

“touch her,” san says from his corner, making wooyoung jump.

he’d already forgotten his friend was there.

“where…” wooyoung trails off.

“anywhere,” you gasp.

“over her panties,” san directs, giving wooyoung a much more specific instruction.

wooyoung parts your legs with his hands and traces the shape of you over your underwear, shuddering when he feels your arousal coat his fingers. earlier, after he’d taken your pants off, he had been able to see just how wet you were. you’d gotten even wetter since kissing him and now you were making a mess of the bed too.

“take them off for him, baby,” san tells you after a few minutes. it’s the first time he’s spoken directly to you in a while.

you smile at your boyfriend and slide them down your legs, holding them out for san to take. he does, and then tucks the article into wooyoung’s jacket pocket.

“a keepsake,” is all he offers as an explanation.

wooyoung feels the back of his neck heat in embarrassment and he hopes you and san can’t tell how red it’s just gotten as a result of your soaked panties being placed into his pocket. his cock twitches in his pants at the idea of what he could do the… gift later.

he’s not sure what he has permission to do at this point but he figures fingers must be fine so he goes back to what he was doing, now without the barrier of your underwear in the way.

you spread your legs even wider for him and moan softly, watching as he pushes his middle and his ring fingers inside of you.

“fuck,” wooyoung groans.

“she feels perfect, right?”

“so fucking perfect.”

“add a third finger,” san advises. “she’ll lose her mind.”

“yeah?”

“she might even squirt for you if you can hit it right.”

“for real?”

san nods. “it might happen even if you don’t hit it right, just because she’s so excited. right, baby?”

“san,” you whine.

“sorry, baby. i won’t spill any more of your dirty little secrets.” (lie) “wooyoung will figure them out on his own soon enough.”

wooyoung’s determined to get you to cum on his fingers— he doesn’t even need you to squirt (although he’d like it very much), he just wants to prove to himself that he can make you fall apart. he’s dreamed about it for so long already.

the dream comes true for him soon enough. it doesn’t take long at all for you to start chanting wooyoung’s name, begging him not to stop as you release all over his hand.

he’s still got his fingers inside of you when you sit up and start clawing at his sweats.

“i need you to fuck me now. please, god, get inside of me.”

wooyoung chuckles, can hear san laughing more distantly too, but is quick to give in to your pleas.

he realizes he’s actually still fully dressed. san is too. meanwhile you’re completely naked from the waist down. tits covered, pussy out. they might have skipped a few steps. oops.

wooyoung shucks off his windbreaker, then his t-shirt. he pulls his pants and briefs down in one go.

while he’s undressing, you seem to realize you also still have your shirt on so you yank it off and toss it in the direction of wooyoung’s pile of clothes. san re-enters the scene to help you take your bra off and then he’s stepping back into the shadows again.

wooyoung’s so hard at this point he almost forgets to feel self-conscious. almost. it’s difficult not to feel self-conscious when you’re completely naked in front of the girl you have a crush on and your best friend.

you seem to like what you see at least, judging by the way your eyes get wide when your gaze reaches his dick, and that’s enough for him.

you beckon him forward and he rejoins you back on the bed, now full of nervous jitters. but he doesn’t have time to overthink it because you’re pulling him back on top of you. wooyoung cradles your thigh against his hip as he kisses you, nudging your clit with the head of his cock. you’re still sensitive from cumming the first time but you don’t shy away from the extra stimulation.

“i’m gonna fucking cum the minute you’re inside of me,” you moan.

me too, wooyoung thinks to himself. then, “san, what about a condom?”

“oh, you won’t be needing one of those,” his best friend answers casually.

“what?” you and wooyoung ask in unison, both sounding shocked.

“you won’t be cumming inside of her,” san continues. “not her mouth, nor her cunt.”

“but what am i supposed to-”

“you can cum on her,” he explains. “wherever she’ll allow you to, but cumming inside is for me… and if you think you won’t be able to control yourself, well, then i guess you’re out of luck.”

#answered #anon #ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut

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pjsk-writin · 4 months

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INBOX OPENN?! YAY IM ON TIME. Anyway can I request Akito, Rui, Tsukasa, and Mizuki where you were childhood friends and haven’t seen each other in awhile? I don’t know if you want to know if it’s Plantonic or Romantic but it’s up to you. Ty and please keep safe!

OOOOO ill leave it up to interpretation but stay safe as well !! i hope u like this! <3

♡ LONG TIME CHILDHOOD FRIENDS - Akito Shinonome, Rui Kamishiro, Tsukasa Tenma and Mizuki Akiyama x Reader

Akito:

Akito's childhood was neither here nor there, so you both faced a lot of problems together

Any time something went down in his family, he would immediately go to you, not saying anything as he simply wanted to be in your company

When you end up moving away, he's not sure what to do with himself, but he tries to forget about you

Of course he doesn't, he still remembers your favorite color and favorite snack when you were young

You end up bumping into him while he's doing a street performance. You both met eyes as you were walking, and the shock of seeing him again makes you freeze

He's distracted for the first time, barely able to remember his set list as he keeps his eyes on you. There was no way it was you, right?

Immediately afterward, you both run to meet each other, and he can't help himself from hugging you. "When did you get back here? Ah whatever, I'm just glad to see you again."

Rui:

Rui's childhood was...something, to say the least. You were his best friend and he stuck to you like glue

You were with him as he started to get into robotics, encouraging his schemes and plans even when other kids started treating him as a weirdo

Your departure from his life shatters him, but he tries to move on as best as he could

He never moves on. He gets reminded of you all the time, and it kind of breaks his heart.

However, it all changes when you of all people come up to him after a WxS performance. Granted, he didn't see you in the crowd, but you recognized him

You went to tell him how good he did in the show, but he found himself bewildered to be face to face with you again. He almost cries, but he hides it as he embraces you

"Oh my god, it's you..." He whispers, still in shock as he pulls back to smile at you, "I've missed you so much." You spend time catching up with him afterwards!

Tsukasa:

Growing up, Tsukasa had quite the childhood. You were one of his only friends he had growing up

You stuck with him throughout elementary school, helping him as Saki went to the hospital, but you were forced to move away once you both grew older

He promised that he'd find you again one day, and kept a little charm you both made once close to his heart

He never backed down from a promise, and made sure to keep looking out for you even as the years passed

Finally, finally, one day, he saw you walking around Phoenix Wonderland. He recognized the charm you had almost immediately, and practically screamed your name

You were surprised to hear your name in the middle of an amusement park, but when you saw the man currently barreling towards you, it all made sense

He tackled you in the tightest hug he could, already excitedly talking your ear off as he looked you over, his eyes sparkling brightly. "I told you we'd see each other again!"

Mizuki:

You had stuck with Mizuki through a lot, they had been through a lot growing up after all

You had been with them before middle school and through the first year of it, however you both had been separated after you were forced to move

They were extremely upset about losing you, and they would always find themselves missing you on the loneliest of days

As the years passed, they never expected to see you again. It had been way too long, there was no way...

But, when they were out at the mall, they saw you from a random shop and almost dropped everything they had bought in their haste to see you

They called your name out, and you turned to look at them, surprise evident on your face. You both embraced, and you comment they seem happier, especially with how they've changed

They can only smile wide, squeezing you tighter in a hug as they looked down at the ground. "I think I'm even happier now that you're here."

taglist ! ; @fayeelikefairie , @akitofixated , @starry-sky-melody , @akiyamasmizuki , @memoriesmelody , @sorazvlief , @playingwithmatchboxes , @mizuruism , @remuchen , @lovecord25 , @averagemizukikinnie , @vai1en , @akitosheart

#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #tsukasa tenma x reader #tenma tsukasa x reader #mizuki akiyama x reader #akiyama mizuki x reader

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lizzychanstuffss · 7 months

Note

Hi, I saw you were taking prompts! Could you write something where human Tav (or any non-darkvision race) and Astarion are exploring somewhere dark (maybe some ruins or a cave) and Tav's torch goes out. So they have to rely on Astarion to guide them the rest of the time?

My first question! Of course I am more than happy to fill your request! I’m still getting used to writing for Astarion’s voice so I apologize if he sounds a bit ooc.

Astarion x human!Tav GN

Set in act 2 since it's convenient for the request

Choosing to scout ahead with just two of you seemed like a good idea back at camp, but you both sorely underestimated how dark the shadow-cursed lands truly would be. Not to mention how creepy they would end up being as well. Neither you nor Astarion really expected it. Going from the sunny mountain pass to the beautiful bioluminescent Underdark, nothing could compare to this.

It was all shadows and nightmares and it was just awful, the torch you held was barely cutting through the darkness, although a particular pale elf was walking with no issue.

"How can you see through all this darkness so easily, Astarion?" raising an eyebrow as you squinted trying to get a good look at his features.

"Darkvision, my dear" he played it off so easily, of course. You let out a slightly annoyed sigh which he couldn't help but chuckle in response to before he teased back.

"Well Shadowheart did offer to come instead of you, darling"

"I am perfectly fi-"

whoosh

"Ah!" Astarion let out a startled yelp as the torch was put out by a surprise gust of wind. By this point in time you had been blessed by the pixie so the shadow curse getting you wasn't an issue, but you still couldn't see anything through this thick fog of shadow.

"Astarion?" defeated you called out to him holding your arms out as you tried to feel where the man was standing.

"I'm here, my dear" He hesitated at first before taking your hands in his. You couldn't help but smile a bit seeing him even be willing to touch you like this, but considering there was no good way to relight the torch he figured this to be the best option.

Looking around with ease he began walking, "Where are we going?" you asked slightly confused as you stumbled over your feet.

"Back to camp, of course, as much as I want to trust we won't be attacked in this darkness, I don't trust you to be of any use without darkvision" sighing a bit because frankly, he was right. Without a torch and without any way to relight it, you were fairly useless at the moment.

So continuing on you two walked, although you couldn't help but notice he was walking a bit slower than normal.

"You know you don't have to go so slow, I'll be fine if you speed up" you spoke, and then Astarion stopped and you were fairly certain he turned back to face you forgetting that you couldn't see him, only imagining how he got embarrassed as he forgot this little detail.

"I...I thought it would be better if I slowed down so you don't trip and fall on your face unless you would prefer I just let you fall and make a fool of yourself" That classic sass of his coming through but you simply rolled your eyes and gave him a smile.

"You're adorable when you get like this" The words rolled off your tongue you could swear the man froze in time, but only for a moment before composing himself.

"And you're adorable when you're trying to tease me~" you could almost make out a smirk on his face through what little shapes you could find painting his figure. Wordlessly he turned and continued his guidance, giving you time to try and think of something clever to say back. But if he was going to say things like that then maybe silence was the better option overall.

Eventually the two of you made it back to camp, the warmth and color filling both of your views "Ah finally not total darkness!" happily you took in the sight of the fire before turning to Astarion with your hand still in his.

"Do you want to sit in your tent or by the fire?" tilting your head as you gave him an option he seemed rather confused by the question.

"I suppose....my tent?" raising an eyebrow as he spoke unsure what your ploy was. While he was still getting used to this being a couple things you were trying your best to do little things that you thought he might enjoy.

"Alright, well then let's go" letting go of his hand as you began to walk before he grabbed it and walked with you back to his tent, getting a smile out of you.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baulders gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion romance #bg3 spoilers #astarionfics #my writing

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kiiwiigii · 8 months

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The Red-Eyed Boy pt. ii

Pt. One | Three | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Alec was going smoothly, until Victoria's army comes for your sister.

Warnings:

Mild language

I'm a sucker for angst

Word Count: 1,798

A/N: Part 1 was originally just supposed to be a oneshot, but here I am. Enjoy! Pssst @rosedpetal and @badass-daisy-22 your wish is my command. ;)

He was laying on his bed, dressed more casually than I had ever seen him, in a simple white t-shirt and pajama bottoms, a book in hand. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the book was on ancient Greek myths, something that I was quite interested in and even planned to study in college.

His dark chocolate colored hair was splayed out across his pillow and I itched to touch it. Well, I really itched to touch all of him, but that was neither here nor there. I had a weird obsession with his hair. And his face. In particular his eyes and especially his lips. I grinned to myself, content just to watch with my being so far away.

Visions like this were rare, few and far in between.

I supposed it was kind of creepy, but in my defense I didn't really have control of these visions, especially since they happened while I was sleeping.

I could already feel the nudge of wakefulness pulling at me. I tried my best to burrow down deeper into sleep, but resistance was futile, and I found myself opening my eyes to see the ceiling of my bedroom back home in Forks, Washington.

I rolled over with a deep sigh. I would give anything to be in Volterra with Alec. Sadly I had a little bit longer to wait. Reaching for my phone I checked my messages and grinned to see a text from him.

'Missing you.'

Alec wasn't one for talking on the phone, he preferred to text, and almost always left me a good morning message to wake up to. Most days it was the highlight of my day.

I pressed the call button and he picked up before the second ring even made a sound.

"Good morning, tesoro."

"Good morning, love." I smiled, burrowing deeper into my covers.

I really just needed to hear his voice this morning.

"Y/N?"

It was Bella, her arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"Hey, sis." I gave her a hug, resting my forehead against her.

"Everything's gonna be ok."

"I know." I sighed. "Let's just get today over with. Grab that diploma and skedaddle."

Bella would definitely have to repeat high school at some point and I counted my lucky stars that I was not in her shoes in that regard. Or any other regard. My sister was a fucking danger magnet and the whole Victoria shit was just a big red neon sign that proved it.

There was a knock at the door and Bella opened it to see Alice. The vampire was bouncing on the tips of her toes already, and the gleam in her eyes scared me. Maybe if I let Bella go first then I could make my escape-

"I'd take Y/N first. She's planning on making a run for it."

Edward you twat. Where did you come from??

Edward just shot me a crooked grin as I glared at him from over my shoulder, Alice already dragging me up the stairs. With a sigh I sat on my bed like a good girl and let Alice do her thing. Thankfully I had already done my makeup, and Alice was content to give me some red lipstick for a pop of color.

"Alec will like it, promise." She gave me a wink and I swear I turned at least fifty shades of red.

"He's not even supposed to be here today. Do you know something I don't?" I eyed her skeptically, but the little bit of hope I was feeling was obvious.

She smiled at me sadly. "Sorry, Y/N. But speaking of lover-boy."

Alice turned to her bag and brought out a small ornate box, handing it to me with all the care in the world. From Alec?

I let my fingers curl around the box, admiring the designs carved into the dark colored wood. It was old, which was quite obvious, and while I had an inkling that it was a piece of jewelry, I was in no way prepared for when I opened the box. It was a small ruby pendant, about the size of my pinky nail, dangling from a golden chain. It had with a rough rectangular cut that rounded out a little at the bottom. I was immediately mesmerized, stroking the pendant in wonder.

It reminded me not just of blood, but of something else that I couldn't quite remember. It was then that I saw the note wedged into the top of the box. I unfolded it with shaking hands, overwhelmed and giddy.

For my Persephone. Congratulations. -A

My mouth popped open. Oh. Oh this boy was clever.

The ruby wasn't supposed to be blood, it was supposed to be a pomegranate seed. Like one of the seeds that Hades offered to Persephone. In the end, eating the pomegranate seeds forced her to return to the underworld to live half the year there with Hades. It was my favorite Greek myth, and I couldn't help but draw parallels between her story and my own. They were rather crooked parallels, but I wasn't too bothered by that.

I could feel the tears start to well up. I don't think I've ever received a gift that was so thoughtful.

"Oh hun. No. No." Alice was there beside me in a heartbeat, wiping the tears before they could fall.

"They're happy tears, Alice." I said with a small smile.

Well, not completely happy, I wished he was here of course. But I would be seeing him soon enough.

"I know. We don't wanna ruin your makeup. Let me help you put it on and we'll take a good portrait to send him, yeah?"

"Thanks, Alice. You're the best ever."

I only wished I had realized just how soon we would be seeing each other.

'I am in so much trouble.'

My anxiety, paired with the adrenaline rush, was practically so high I was pretty sure it was orbiting the moon. Jasper was by my side, doing his best to soothe not just me, but poor little Bree Tanner.

"How bad is it gonna be, Alice?" I whispered to her, wringing my hands together and bouncing on the tips of my toes. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Relax." She soothed.

"So pretty fucking bad. Do I have time to run?"

I was this close to hyperventilating.

I wasn't even supposed to be here. Bella almost had my head when she saw me on the back Jacob's wolf form, poised and ready to help. With what I wasn’t entirely sure in that moment. I had come up with the harebrained scheme to help muddle Bella's scent with my own by switching the matching jackets we had received for Christmas years ago. Emmet had made the comment a while ago that our scents were pretty similar, so I just kind of ran with the idea. It had worked so well that even Edward hadn't seemed to notice when Bella had slipped on my jacket instead of her own. It had helped split the army at least. Having two humans with similar scents had sent them all mixed signals, so it had kind of worked.

Or so I was telling myself.

So here I was, exactly in a place where I wasn't supposed to be, and the Volturi would be arriving any minute. More specifically Alec and the other elite guards from what Alice had said. None of whom I've had the pleasure of meeting yet. Including his sister. This was like… meeting your significant other's family for the first time.

Well, this was gonna be one hell of a hello.

"They're coming." Alice's panicked voice did nothing to calm me down.

Jasper put a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to help. "Try to relax, Y/N. It's not you he's going to angry with."

I simply nodded and fiddled with my necklace, the ruby seed feeling cold and smooth beneath my fingers. That helped a little as they appeared from the fog, and I found myself catching my breath when I saw Alec's silhouette emerge. He removed his hood and nearly froze when he caught sight of me. I gave him a small smile and a wave.

He let out a snarl that almost sent me hiding behind Jasper.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Y/N is safe." Carlisle soothed. "We never would have let anything happen to her."

"This is the second time your coven has dragged her into something dangerous." He hissed, voice low and deadly.

'Well, if we're gonna get technical about it Alec, we never would have met had it not been for that first time.'

Edward shot me a look.

What? It's not like I had said it out loud.

Wringing my hands, I stepped forward slightly before finally gathering the courage to approach him. He met me half way, gathering me into his arms. I let out a deep sigh of contentment as I buried my face in his jacket.

"I know you're angry." I whispered. "But I couldn't let something happen to Bella. They weren't even aware of what I was doing until it was too late. I'm sorry. For scaring you."

Alec said nothing for a long minute and I could feel the tension practically eating me alive.

"Alec." The red-eyed girl spoke, watching and taking us in.

Jane. His sister.

He simply nodded and left me standing there before returning to his position by her side. My heart dropped. He hadn't even bothered to say anything. I turned swiftly, blinking back tears. While I was sorry for scaring him, I refused to be sorry for my actions. Bella was my sister, and I would do what I could to help her. I stood a little behind Alice, staring at nothing and trying my best to turn off my emotions.

Jane spoke again. "Impressive. I have never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact."

"We were lucky." Carlisle answered.

"I doubt that."

I couldn't help the way my eyebrows shot up. Then I had to remind myself that this was Jane, and she had always proved exceptionally brutal in my visions. And this was no different, although it was Felix who did the dirty work this time. Bree was gone.

I didn't even blink at the end of it. I simply stood there, like a zombie when they finally disappeared. And Alec hadn't even said a word. The dam holding back the flood of tears finally broke.

'There goes my red-eyed boy.'

{Masterlist} || {Request Guidelines}

Wanna be notified when I post a new story? Ask to join my taglist!

#alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #twilight #volturi #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

Text

From One Master to Another

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Gordon Ramsay isn't a classically trained pastry chef; he knows the savory, not the sweet. This time, the coursework involves instruction in desserts--and he'll find that he has just as much to learn as his students, Vil and Jack, do. I conducted a lot of research for this installment (reading articles on how to ice cakes + the science behind macarons, and, of course, watching videos where GR gets humbled and learns from fellow culinary masters). It provided me with a fresh perspective to write from~

Imagine this...

"... Jack."

"Yes, Vil-senpai?"

"What exactly am I looking at?"

Several countertops were covered in baking trays. Sugar circles sat upon waxy sheets, some collapsed and thinned out like wafers, others risen then caved in and cracked. It was an array of imperfections spanning the muted colors of the rainbow.

Jack clasped his hands behind his back, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable urge to itch the ears tucked under his hat, or to tear away the tangle of hair net containing his tail. His chef's jacket seemed to be straining to contain the entire bulk of him.

"Macarons," Jack reported.

Vil lifted a brow.

"... Er, at least they're supposed to be macarons," his underclassman awkwardly clarified.

Vil granted him a look of sympathy. "The poor things."

"W-Well, how did you do with your assignment?!" Jack stammered, eager to shift the subject. He glanced to Vil's table.

Lips pursed.

The model had gone with a light wash of makeup, simply a neutral brown gradient on his lids. His hair was arranged in a tight, tidy bun, flaxen bangs pinned back. Vil presented almost as flawless as a mirror's face—but certainly his cake didn't.

It was two layers tall (Jack had watched him saw and shape them earlier), stacked upon each other with a layer of buttercream sandwiched between them. The cake was starting to slope, as if in a desperate attempt to crawl to the exit. A coat of uneven chocolate frosting had hardened, forming odd peaks and lumps in a crust.

“That’s pretty rough.” Vil bristled at the words—sparse, yet biting. Jack continued. “How many cakes does this make, four?”

The question, unintentional needling.

“Seven,” Vil begrudgingly corrected him. Then, a small smirk formed. “And yourself? How many batches of macarons does this make?”

“Urk…!” Jack’s ears flattened, his bushy tail limp. “I guess we could both use more practice…”

“Jesus.”

The curse was spoken in a hissing whisper, emerging from neither from Vil nor Jack. It came from their teacher, an older man with weathered features—the result of wisdom and stress. He had been perched off to the side, observing his students’ skills in action, his frown seemingly ever extending as the mistakes piled up.

“Right then, maybe this isn’t working out,” Gordon Ramsay muttered, his eyes passing over a macaron graveyard and the crumbling cake mountains.

Not for lack of trying.

“Chef!” Jack immediately stood at attention. “We did our best to follow your instructions.”

“As you can see, the results were not particularly fruitful,” Vil chimed in. “We could do with additional instruction.”

Gordon startled, gaping at them. “Wait, you two want me to teach you more? You’re willing to listen?”

“Yessir!! Please guide us.”

“It’s as Jack says. We are here to learn and to enhance our culinary skillsets. We shouldn’t dawdle.” Vil narrowed his eyes. “Why do you act so surprised?”

“Can’t say this has happened very often.” Gordon stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The last time I had a pair of students this cooperative was months ago.”

“Just what exactly have the other Culinary Crucibles students put you through?” Vil angrily planted his hands on his hips. “Were Epel and Rook being disrespectful?"

Jack hesitated not wishing to speak ill of his Savanaclaw seniors. Still, it was easy for his mind to conjure the image of Ruggie swiping leftovers when no one was looking—“Free food is free food!”—and Leona yawning, mentally checked out of the situation.

"It's not hard to imagine," Jack confessed.

"They'll be getting an earful from me later!"

"Hmph, kids will be kids. I've dealt with cocky adults double their age or older acting like bigger babies. What's important is that they walked out of my kitchen better than when they first walked in."

Gordon leaned against a counter and folded his arms. Air escaped through his teeth. “Boys, I’ll be straight with you. Sweets, baking—it isn’t my specialty. I could try and teach you all bloody day and we'd still get nowhere."

“Are you serious?” Jack frowned. “So that means…”

"What I've already shown you is all I've picked up from experts back home. We've hit the ceiling."

“This can’t be!” Vil reeled, looking vaguely appalled. “If it’s come to this, then how will we possibly improve our craft?"

"I don't know."

I've never been in a kitchen where I haven't been in control.

"This is a fucking mess," Gordon groaned. I've failed my students.

“What’s with all the doom and gloom?”

Gordon bolted upright at the sudden voice.

A plump ghost manifested, suited up in a chef's jacket and hat. His face was as puffy as a marshmallows, and his belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly.

The head chef at Night Raven College.

"You fellas look like you've seen a ghost," he joked. "But never mind that. I noticed you’ve been standing around and being sad for a while now.”

“Right, that—” Gordon exchanged an anxious look with his students. He fumbled for an explanation, but didn’t have to.

“Oh my! Did you make these?” the ghost chef indicated the macarons and cakes. They were hard to miss. “Brave of you to start off with such finicky things. All in all, they’re not bad attempts."

"They're not?"

The ghost chuckled. “Of course not. How many times do you think a pastry chef muddles macarons or ices a cake incorrectly before it’s passable? It’s one part skill, one part practice, and one part learning as you go. Here, let me show you some tips and tricks I picked up myself.”

Vil, Jack—and even Gordon himself—watched in silent awe as the ghost chef went about his work.

Ingredients were effortlessly measured and sifter into a bowl (“Keeps it free of lumps!”), then whipped egg whites carefully folded into the batter. “You want stiff peaks for the whites, and minimum folding to get it incorporated!” Once the macarons were piped onto a sheet, the chef picked up the tray and slammed it down several times—“To scare off the air bubbles.”

The batch of macarons was slid into a waiting oven, and he started on his next task.

Into a stand mixer went several sticks of butter. The machine came to life, whipping the fats well.

“Traditional buttercream forms a crust over time,” the ghost chef explained. “That gets gritty and unpleasant! So here’s an alternate version that doesn’t crust. It’s less sweet, but still stable, easy to work with.“

He lifted a bottle and tipped its contents into the aerated butter. Transparent syrup fell in thick rivulets, and he grinned. Powdered sugar followed, visible only for seconds before it disappeared into the gathering frosting.

“The secret is light corn syrup. Using dissolved sugar instead of powdered makes the frosting smooth and stops it from hardening. Adds a fine luster to the frosting too!”

Using a spatula, he spooned the fresh buttercream into a piping bag and handed it off to Vil. “Scrape the stuff that’s on your cakes off and try again with this,” the ghost encouraged. “Should work like a dream!”

“Thank you,” Vil said, a little bewildered by the heft of the piping bag. “I will show you a beautiful dessert by yours truly.”

“Looking forward to it.”

DING!

The oven’s timer went off.

“That’s 13 minutes! Howl-kun, can you get the macarons?” called the ghost.

“Yes, Chef! I’m on it!” Jack, in a pair of heat-resistant mitts, marched to the oven and reached inside. He produced a tray of perfect pink domes, a cloud of ruffles—the macaron’s feet—at their bases. “Whoa.”

“A nice filling and they’ll be good to go. You’ve got it covered?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Good, good. Let us know if you need any help though, alright? That’s what your teachers are here for.”

Jack nodded, then retreated to his station. While the macarons cooled, he chopped white chocolate and tossed it into a pan with heavy cream. Moments later, they had melded into a rich ganache, sweetness hanging in a heavy cloud about it. One scoop was enough for a pair of shells, lightly pressed together.

Beside his junior, Vil was hard at work redoing a cake. His stand was set spinning, a bench scraper aligned to comb and smooth out the dollops of frosting he had painted along the sides. The cake was a blank white canvas, and Vil, the artist.

Sparks in their eyes, faces bright with the glow of determination.

“Incredible,” Gordon breathed, staring after the duo. He turned back to the head chef. “You made it look so easy.”

The ghost chef laughed and contentedly patted his stomach. “I’ve had my whole life and afterlife to master the skills!”

“No kidding. You saved my ass back there.”

And more importantly, he’s actually got the kids motivated again.

“You’re the one that’s helped us out a lot, Ramsay-kun. The kitchen is so short-staffed with so many students wanting to take the Culinary Crucibles elective this year. You took some of the instruction off of our hands. This is the very least I can do to return the favor.”

The head chef smiled. “Don’t forget, you can always call on us if you ever need help.”

“That right? Then I guess you wouldn’t mind helping me out with one more thing today.”

“Mm, what’s that?”

Gordon rolled up his sleeves, a newfound fire in his expression. “Please teach me too.”

“Huh?! You want me to teach you?”

“I’m as much of a student as they are—and I’d be honored to learn from a chef of your caliber.”

“Ramsay-kun…” The ghost teared up. “Oh, how could I refuse? I’d be happy to!! Go on now, get your own station set up and we can get started immediately.”

The creases in Gordon’s face lifted. His response, hearty and joyful.

“Yes, Chef!”

Vil glanced up from his cake. “… Are my eyes and ears deceiving me?”

“They aren’t.” Jack’s brows lifted. “I’m seeing and hearing it too.”

“It’s not so shocking,” Gordon grunted. “This is a school. We’re here to learn new skills and techniques—doesn’t matter if we’re student or teacher.“

“Fufufu,” Vil chuckled to himself. “Well, aren’t you humble?”

“Heh.” Jack found himself fighting to keep down a small smile. “I can respect that. Nothing wrong with a guy lookin’ to improve himself.”

“That makes three of us.”

We’re not that different at our very cores. Stubborn fools with dreams and aspirations of achieving something greater. For ourselves, for the ones around us.

The ghost chef clapped his doughy hands. “Isn’t this so exciting, class? We’re embarking on a culinary journey together! I hope you’re ready, because I sure am!”

They replied in unison, hearts united:

“Ready when you are, Chef!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Jack Howl #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #something no one asked for #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Gordon Ramsay #Gordon Ramsay in Twisted Wonderland #imagine this #beyond the looking glass #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

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bots-and-cons · 9 days

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oh my god I LOOVE your hcs about Knockout and Breakdown adopting a human reader they ARE EVERYTHING RIGHT. So I would like to request some headcanons of human reader that is celebrating fathers day(and teaching them what this day is about) and I like to see them being appreciative of their fathers and telling them how much they mean to them? 🥺 can we get hcs of how Ko and Br would react? Just a side dish of pure fluff pls 🙏

Let us give these cons some hugs ✊🏻

okay hope that’s acceptable, thank you and take care of yourself!!

A/N: I really liked writing those, thank youuu. You can find those posts here and here if someone’s interested. This seemed like a quick and fun one to write, so I can do it even though I’m pretty busy. I think this would be between the two other posts timeline wise but Idk if it really matters. I think this is a really cute idea btw I hope I did it justice :D

~Knockout & Breakdown~

•Neither Knockout nor Breakdown has ever heard of father’s day, because it’s definitely not a thing on cybertron, and they’re not familiar enough with earth culture to know something like that

•Cybertronians don’t reproduce in a way that would make someone a father or a mother or a parent in general, so they don’t even really have the need for terms such as “dad” or father”

•So when you mentioned you wanted to do something with them for father’s day, they’re like “What’s that?”

•You explain the premise of it and Knockout and Breakdown look at each other for a while, before Knockout starts tearing up with happiness

•Breakdown just nods very seriously, but he’s also smiling

•They don’t want to let you down, this is the first time you’re really calling them your parents, even though the whole unsaid family thing has been going on for a while now

•So you start planning your surprise for them, now that they’re on board

•You were kinda scared they wouldn’t be interested, or would think it was weird, but you were so happy to see they were into the whole idea

•You’re having some trouble deciding what to do, because you do want to get out of the Nemesis with them, but what could you do together?

•You end up kind of improvising on the actual father’s day, because you had a few options you wanted to do

•You settled for something pretty basic, you took them to a diner (in their holoforms ofc) you all liked and gave them the gifts you’d made them

•You had made them these braided bracelets, that were a mix of red, blue and (your favorite color) yarn and were braided with some nice patterns

•You confessed you’d made like ten versions, because you had to learn how to make them, and these were the best ones

•Then you revealed a third bracelet under your sleeve and told them “We match now” with a smile

•Knockout almost started crying happy tears again, but he settled for sniffling and holding you and Breakdown’s hand

•You were sitting in your little booth, holding each other’s hands and you couldn’t have been happier

•You’re sometimes kind of bad at telling people you love them, but you really wanted to make sure they knew you appreciate and love them

•You’re holding their hands and look at each of them while saying “Dad” to Breakdown, and “Papa” to Knockout and “I love you guys” to both

•Now Knockout is just straight up crying and almost knocks over a drink glass while moving to your side of the table and hugging you

•Breakdown isn’t far from tears himself, but he manages to keep himself composed

•They both tell you they love you too, and thank you for the gifts

•You just sit and talk for a while after, and eat the rest of your food of course, all together, it was a fantastic afternoon

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #decepticons #breakdown #knockout #knockout x breakdown #kobd #tfp headcanons #transformers fluff #reader insert #platonic transformers x reader

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samsno1 · 4 months

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Liberty or Life

Billy Butcher x Gn!POC!Reader

hello i fucking suck at titles? anyway, i wrote this at the beach while i was getting tanned because i never found a butcher fic with this exact vibe so i said "yk what, imma write ts"

ill maybe do a part 2 if i feel like it

Sumary: The reader finds something about Liberty and wants to check it out. Butcher thinks it's just too easy to be true.

Warnings: SPOILERS THE BOYS S2, english isn't my first language, kinda mean butcher but he means it well, poc!reader (wrote it with latinos in mind but i didn't mention us especifically so dig in), use of y/n, HURT/COMFORT, blood, violence, gore (?), cursing (i mean its the boys), hom*lander mentioned (yes he gets a fucking warning), i didn't make the reader speak neither spanish nor portuguese, up to ya, i had no idea how to transcribe his british accent but i did my best. NOT PROOF READ

WC: 3.3k

You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here

if you enjoy it please lmk!

Of course it was a trap. A fucking trap.

While confined in your apartment, searching more and more about Stormfront - AKA Liberty - after the encounter with the poor woman that ended up losing her brother to her hands right in front of her eyes you found a clue, something that could help take her down.

According to the document you spent the whole night reading with several cups of coffee and a killing migraine, there was a file hidden in a building close to Vought's that gave away all the racist behavior of Liberty's past (and present). It would be more than enough to make the people mad.

Hell, it made you mad. An immigrant trying to bring down an incredibly popular Supe, who would definetly get rid of any of your people out of North American territory? Definitely a perfect situation for your ass, not dangerous at all.

But still, if not you and The Boys, who? Even if Butcher's focus wasn't her it was for you, as a personal offense.

You knew racism wasn't foreign in the Superhero industry (or in the United States as a whole, you lived it constantly) but executing people of color is borderline a genocide and it was happening right under the peoples noses. God, praised even.

You scoffed at the screen of your computer and picked up your phone to call either Butcher or MM about what you found, to see if they could back you up on the mission.

You dialed Butcher first, putting your cell to your ear as you got up from the chair, your legs needing a stretch, as you walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get a beer. It is 6pm somewhere you thought.

As you popped open the can the familiar british accent hit your ears and you subconsciously smiled to yourself.

“Wha’ d'ya want, luv?” He asked, voice gruff, clearly woken up by your call. You imagined his tousled hair. Maybe he was shirtless.

“Did I wake you?” You asked, taking a sip of the bitter drink on your hand, the alcohol much appreciated in your stomach.

“Maybe” He said and you could hear the teasing smile on his face.

“I'm sorry, I just called to say I found something on Liberty…Stormfront…whatever her fucking name is” You clarified as you mindlessly play with the seal of the beer can with your index finger “There's a building nearby that hides some documents about her, y'know, the shady stuff. I wanted to go there tonight, see if I find it”

You hear shuffling in the other line with a grunt, assuming he was getting up from the bed – or wherever he was sleeping.

He didn't speak for some moments letting you hear his bare feet walking around his apartment.

“I don’ know abou’ it Y/N, how'd ya even find those?” He asked, his voice hesitant.

“Butcher, I'm a hacker and Vought's system sucks ass compared to what I've already done” You explained “I just got in, easy”

You can't see it but he bites his bottom lip on the other line. He was still skeptical, would it really be that easy to find stuff on a Supe like Liberty? He knew your abilities, hell, he admired it but he was always extra careful when it came to you.

“Really?” He asked and you could feel the way his eyebrow raised and you scoffed “Okay, I'm jus’ doubtful, Liberty hasn’ been talked abou’ in ages an’ ya find stuff…easy?”

“What, lost faith in my abilities?” You teased. You finished your beer and threw the can in the thrash, it hitting the bottom of the thrash with a loud thud “C'mon, it will be easy. In and out”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea, luv” He said and you frowned, sitting on your island in the kitchen, your feet dangling off the edge.

“Y'know I called to warn you I was going, not to ask permission, you ain't my father” You mumbled with the intention to let him hear it, the tone in your voice serious “Just wanted to know if you wanted to come with”

“Nah” He replied, his voice loud and clear over the phone and you make a shocked confused face to yourself. Did he not want to keep you company? “Ya ain't going, it's risky. It looks too easy. Nothin’ with these cunts’ easy” He said firmly and you scoffed in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah, I am, alone or with you, I'm busting into that building” You said just as firmly as he did “You know how I feel about that racist cunt” You cursed. The more time you spent with Butcher, the more you started using his British vocabulary. Cunt was the most common but Bullocks also came with from time to time.

“Of course I know but still, we have to be smart abou’ it” A tip of anger laced his voice. He often got pissed at how stubborn you could be and this was one of those times.

“I'll be in there tonight. Goodbye Butcher” You said and turned off the call, not wanting to hear him going on and on about your ‘recklessness’ as he called it, scoffing and smashing your phone down on the island beside you, running a hand through your head.

You liked when Butcher was caring towards you, it was what made you start catching feelings for the man in the first place, but sometimes he just treated you like a kid, as if you could do nothing without him lecturing you beforehand.

On the other side, Butcher groans angrily as he notices you turned the call off and he throws his phone on the bed. “Fucking ‘ell” He curses to himself as he rubs his temples with his thumb and index fingers.

He knew you wouldn't drop it. You were a force of nature, but impulsive. Sometimes he loved it, sometimes he hated it.

This was time he wished you just listened.

The feeling in his gut that something wasn't right remained for the whole day, his head barely able to focus on anything else as he was too worried. Worried about you.

At about 8pm he was nervously biting on the side of his thumbnail trying to ignore his phone besides him as he told himself over and over he should call you to see if you were fine. The other (minor) side of him telling himself he should drop it. You were strong, you could pull it off and he didn't want to bruise his ego giving in to your stupid idea.

Fuck it.

He checked his phone to see a message from you. The address to said building. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Maybe you weren't so stupid after all.

He grabbed his keys and put on his black trench coat and a gun in the waistband of his jeans.

As he closed the door behind him he rushed to his car, wondering if you were okay or if something happened.

At the thought of you hurt he hurried his feet on the pavement to get faster to his car. To get faster to you.

He drove above the speed limit after he tried calling you 3 times, all going to voicemail. He cursed to himself as he arrived at the building and took in the sight in front of him.

The windows were busted and, as he got in, he could clearly see bullet holes on the walls and his heart started beating faster in his chest. Please be okay, please be alive, I can't lose you too.

He moves through crumbles and remains of the walls, taking his gun in his hand and moving slowly, aware of any danger.

The more he walked without any sight of you, the more worried he got.

As he went down the stairs to the basement he heard a low groan and his eyes widened and his whole body turned towards the noise.

The basement was a complete wreck. Shelves down on the ground, glass and books everywhere.

Then he saw you and his heart sank to his stomach. You were sitting down against the wall, a huge stab wound in your side where your hand was trying to keep pressure, which clearly wasn't enough as he took sight of the amount of blood beneath you and in your hands.

He took a quick look around and rushed to you, kneeling in front of you. He took notice of how pale you looked but still, at least, half conscious.

He held your shoulder with one hand and pressed the other over your wound making you wince in pain. His face was serious, angry. He didn't know if it was at you or at whoever did this to you but he was livid.

“What the fuck did ya do?” He asked through gritted teeth, not expecting an answer but you put your hand over his forearm, the blood staining his coat and smiled. You fucking smiled, that beatiful smile that could make Butcher melt from miles away.

“You came” You said, your voice low and hoarse and then you went into a coughing fit and Butcher held you to his chest.

“Easy, easy Kid” He said as he took a deep breath so as to not get emotional. He took your hand and pressed it over the bloody wound “I'm gonna need ya to keep pressure in this while I get ya out, c'mon”

You nodded weakly and pressed it as hard as you could while his other arm wrapped below your knees and lifted you up, the movement making you hiss.

He carried you out as quickly as possible as he placed you in the backseat of his car as he went to the driver's, turning the vehicle on and sprinting back to his place.

At the feeling of being safe, the adrenaline started wearing down and you were suddenly very tired. Your eyes closed as you felt your consciousness slip away and then you didn't feel anything anymore.

When you woke up again you were laying on a bed that wasn't yours, in a room that wasn't yours. Your head was pounding and breathing hurt and you let out a groan.

As your vision focused, you looked around and took in the place until your eyes caught a glimpse at someone on a chair besides you. Sleeping, with his arms crossed over his chest, was Butcher and you started remembering what happened.

You mindlessly put your hand over the neatly done bandaging in your stomach and looked at Butcher again.

“Butcher” You said, your voice low and weak. The man besides you stirs awake, his eyes opening slowly.

As he notices you're awake he gets up and places a hand on your forehead hurriedly, breathing deeply as if it was a relief seeing your eyes staring back at him.

“You're awake” He said, looking between your eyes.

As you looked back up at him guilt started pooling in your heart and you looked away, you smiled sadly.

“You were right” You mumbled and he pulled his hand away from your face and sighed angrily. He brushed a hand trough his face, his nostrils flaring up.

He didn't say anything, just stared at your bandaged wound, lost in thought, so you continued talking.

“They jumped me, some people that worked for Vought. I knocked some down but one of them caught me. Thay ran away after that, leaving me to die, apparently” You explained, still refusing to look at him “I'm sorry.”

At that, he looked at you again and you looked at him. He was angry and sad, his face gave it all away and you felt small under his stare. Maybe because you were laying down but still, you felt helpless.

“Why didn't ya fuckin’ listen to me” He said, his voice low, apparently calm and that was the most scary of it all. You preferred that he yelled at you, screamed in anger and never looked at you again then to act like this.

“You– I fuckin’ told ya” He said squinting his eyes as a hand goes to nudge at the wound and you grunt as he aplies pressure to it “Look at where your stupidity gotcha”

Tears prickle at the corner of your closed eyes as you grab at his wrist to pull it away from your skin, your own hand covering the bandage protectively as you glare at him. You knew you fucked up but what was going on with him?

“What the fuck Butcher!” You exclaim through your teeth as the pain eases away “I know I should've listened to you, I already said I'm sorry!”

“Sorry don’ cut it!” He finally yells at you, making you shrink as he points a finger at your face. “When I arrived the color on your face was gone! You were basically dead as I carried ya out! There was blood everywhere, Y/N”

He turned his back to you, and sighed loudly. If it was possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears.

You felt your eyes water. He seemed more than angry and you hated that you were the reason that he felt like this.

“How long was I out?” You asked lowly as you forced yourself to sit with your back against the headboard, making a face at the sting in your belly.

“About 52 hours” He replies, his back still turned to you and your eyes widen in shock and look at his back.

His head was down and his hands were both on his own waist.

You nodded even if he couldn't see you, more so to acknowledge it to yourself. As you let the information sink in, Butcher leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

He couldn't let you see the tears forming in his eyes as all his thoughts went back to your limp body on his arms and the hours he spent beside the bed, holding your hand and talking to you while you were in your coma. He wanted to hug you, hold you and he couldn't bear the idea of losing you. Not when he hadn't told you anything about what he wanted from you.

How everytime you looked at him with those bright eyes he felt like he could drown in them, how your smile was the reason he got out of bed every morning, how your voice was like a beautiful tune that was hypnotizing. How your lips always provoked his deepest desires to emerge.

Seeing you bleeding broke him apart further then it should've and that scared him. He had sworn to never care for someone this much since the last time he felt this his heart got torn to pieces by Becca.

He shouldn't. He couldn't.

But he also couldn't help that every time you touched him he felt his skin warm up and his heart accelerate.

He pressed his forehead to the shut door and mentally cursed himself over and over again, he didn't know what to do until he saw the handle turn and the door slowly open.

You opened the door, a hand on your waist to ease the pain as you looked at him teary eyed.

He made a confused face with slight worry but then you choked out a sob and threw both of your arms around his neck and started to cry against his shoulder.

Butcher was shocked until his arms eased themselves around your lower back. One hand rubbed up and down as he felt your tears wet his shirt.

“I was– so scared” You admitted, shaking with your sobs and gripping his shirt tightly under your fingers to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. “It was so cold. The only thing that kept me breathing was when…when I looked at my phone and you– you were calling” You sobbed harder after each word, your body trembling.

“When you left voicemails…I was happy because if I…” You swallowed “If I died I would at least hear your voice one last time”

His grip around you tightened and one of his hands went into your hair as he adjusted your head into his chest, his jaw above you as he closed his eyes. He felt a tingle in his heart at your words, a spark of love lighting itself up in bad weather.

“Shh, you're fine now, you're ‘ere, alive, I'm 'ere” He whispered comfortably as you kept crying and he thought of all the things he wanted to tell you.

“And I know I was stupid. That I– That I should've listened but I want her dead, I want Homelander dead and I just–” You choked “I just wanted to have control over something, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”

He gently swayed both your bodies side to side, a comforting hand rubbing at your scalp. Butcher didn't say anything, just letting you get it all out until your breathing calmed down.

The tears had stopped flowing and now you were just sniffing, your cheeks puffy and your eyes red. He grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you back to look into your eyes, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Feel betta’?” He asked and you nodded slightly and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking into your beautiful orbs again. “I'm sorry too, luv, I really am”

You opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you before you could speak.

“I shouldn’ have said those things t'ya, I was just– Angry, but not at you” He gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, drying a stubborn tear rolling down your face. “I was angry at myself”

Apparently you made a face at him because he gave you a thin-lipped smile.

“I was angry because I knew you were going anyway an’ I let'ya go alone. If I was there, this wouldn’ have happened”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I was scared that I'd neva see ya smile again, see your beautiful eyes look into mine, hear your stunnin' voice” He hugged you again, his hands wrapping you in a warm embrace. He didn't want to let you go in fear this was a dream and he buried his face in the crook of your neck before finishing.

“I was scared I would neva be able to tell ya tha’ I love ya” He mumbles in your neck as his arms tighten around you and a shiver runs through you.

William Butcher loved you.

Your hands grabbed at his shoulders and pushed him back lightly as you looked into his eyes.

Your expression doesn’t give anything away and Butcher starts to feel sick as he thinks he's going to be rejected. He prepares for impact.

Then you smile.

Your smile wide because you feel warm. Warmed by his love. Diferently then the cold night at the building.

Your hands travel up to both sides of his face as you pull him in. You go slowly, waiting to see if he'd pull back but he surprises you with a strong, passionate kiss, making you gasp in surprise.

The world feels small around you as his hands grab at your waist, careful not to hurt you as you pour out every feeling you bottled up through the years in that kiss.

And Butcher was consumed by you, by every single inch of you, by every part of your being. Your voice was a melodic chorus to his ears, your lips a river to which he was drowning in, your body the perfect fit for his.

When you pull away from each other with rushed breaths you're still smiling, your hand caressing his beard covered cheek.

“I love you too” You whisper and Butcher smashes his lips against yours again, making you giggle in surprise.

Now that they had each other it was them against the world. Nothing could tear them apart because they were made for one another, the flames of their souls dancing together in a single rhythm.

They didn't know or didn't feel it but ever since the first time they had locked eyes the destiny made their paths merge into a single one at one point in both their lives. And this was it. Two souls bound, forever.

☆

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you very much for reading. Xoxo

#the boys imagine #the boys x reader #the boys x y/n #the boys x you #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #william butcher #william butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher smut #the boys

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baronessblixen · 4 months

Text

And We Go On

Day 4 for the Eight Nights of Mulder: endurance and my prompt for the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge: bad Christmas puns

Summary: On the car ride after they said goodbye to Emily, Mulder tries his best to ease some of Scully's pain. (emotional hurt/comfort with some humor thrown in; wc: 1,134)

Tagging @today-in-fic @eightnightsofmulder

They're wrapped in a coat of silence as they step outside the church, their steps in perfect sync. What is there to say, anyway? What do you say to someone who's just said goodbye to the child she didn't know she had? Mulder opens the car door for Scully and lingers there until she has put her seatbelt on.

A few yards away, Scully's family is still smiling and fawning over baby Matthew, and he hopes he's blocking Scully's view. After laying her own daughter to rest, she doesn't need to see this. If he could take her pain away, he would in a heartbeat. All he can do, however, is be here for her, and follow her lead.

Inside the car, there's neither enough space, nor air. When the silence threatens to crush them, Mulder turns on the radio. Soft melodies fill the car, and he fears he's only making things worse.

"Can we drive a while?" Her question cuts through the tension and stuns him. He clears his throat before he says, "Of course." Scully hardly ever asks for anything, and he's prepared to give her everything. He'd drive her to the end of the world if that's what she wanted.

"I'm just not ready to face everything yet." A crack in her voice and her armor.

"It's okay. We can drive all day."

"My family would worry."

"Eh, just tell them it's my fault." It feels like it, too. He'll do his penance. In front of a God he doesn't believe in, if he has to. Anything for her. He glances over at Scully, shocked at how ashen her face is and how devoid of life. Only weeks ago, the color returned to her cheeks. After she beat her cancer, he thought this was it. He thought they were in the clear. But there's always something else waiting for them, trying to take them down.

Years ago, Scully told him how much she loved Christmas. They were younger then, their friendship new and untarnished. She told him about Scully family traditions and that no matter what, they always laughed. Back then he didn't know the Scullys, had yet to meet Mrs. Scully, Melissa, and Bill Jr. When he pictured them, it was always with crinkled laugh lines around their eyes and a smile on their lips. The same one Scully wore when she mentioned her family.

Today, there is no laughter, no joy. And he can't bear it. She deserves more. She deserves a Christmas where she can smile, laugh, and just be herself.

"Hey, Scully?" He decides not to think too much about it. Just do whatever it takes. No matter how ridiculous he's going to look or sound." Let's taco about Christmas." It's a bad pun, but it's the first one that comes to his mind.

"What?" Her voice sounds weak. If he wants to make her laugh, or even smile, he has to up his game.

"I'm pine-ing for you this Christmas?" he tries.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her eyebrows knit in concern. At least he's distracting her from her pain.

"I'm up to snow good."

"You're..." he feels her eyes on him, and since there's not much traffic, he turns to look at her. Her expression is neutral, but he thinks she's thawing. He can't ease her agony; only time can do that. No one can stop him from trying, though. He will make her smile today, come what may.

"I've got high elf-esteem."

"You're insane." And he hears it. Soft, almost shy, but decidedly there: a giggle. A real, honest cackle. He grins, glancing at her. Tears shimmer in her eyes, and he reaches over the console to grab her hand.

"There's no gift like the present." Scully chortles and his heart soars. "I have something for you, by the way. I must admit I stole it from your brother's house, but I think it was a brilliant idea. Are you hungry at all? I'm a bit hungry. Reach into my coat pocket."

"This is not a trick, is it?"

"What? No." Her eyes on him, she sticks her hand into his pocket and fishes out two candy canes.

"Stole it last night and look, these candy canes are in mint condition."

"I'm not hungry."

"You don't need to be hungry for a candy cane, Scully." The plastic crackles as Scully unwraps the candy. Soft peppermint aroma fills the car. She's just holding the candy cane as if unsure what to do next.

"Want me to lick it?" He realizes the implications of what he just said a moment too late. Their eyes meet and then, miraculously, they're roaring with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. Mulder stops the car at the side of the road, needing a moment. Their laughter dies down slowly, a few chuckles falling out of their mouths here and there.

"Want to share?" Mulder asks after a moment.

"Snow be it," Scully replies, the corner of her mouth twitching. She breaks the candy cane in two, handing one half to Mulder. He's almost too mesmerized to notice it. Scully takes her half and bites off a large chunk, chewing slowly.

"I know what you're doing," she says. "And I appreciate it. Thank you." She puts her hand over his on his thigh. Her face is close to his and she smells sweet and fresh, like the candy cane. "I- I needed a moment of, um. I just needed a moment."

"I can come up with another thousand bad puns," he says earnestly.

"You never give up, do you?" Her smile is shaky.

"Only if absolutely forced to." She nods, quickly wiping away a few tears.

"I think I'm ready to go to my brother's house now."

"Are you sure? We can keep going. Hell, say the word and I'll drive us home."

"I know you would." She squeezes his hand. "I don't want to ask but..."

"You can ask for anything, Scully. Anything at all."

"Will you stay with me a while?"

"No one can stop me. Well, your brother could, but I won't let him. And if you need-"

"I know, Mulder. I know. Now tell me another one. I can see it in your eyes. You want to make another joke." Her smile may be colored in sadness, but it's still a smile, and he helped put it there. He starts the car again, Scully's hand falling from his and onto his thigh.

"What did one ornament say to another?" Mulder asks, trying to hide his delight. He pauses for effect until he can't hold it in any longer. "I like hanging with you." He hears a soft chuckle and it sounds glorious to his ears. It will take a while, but in the end, she'll be okay.

#ficmas2023 #angst and humor #i LOVE mixing those #i hope it worked #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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freewilllife · 3 months

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The First Real Meeting between Xie Lian, Feng Xin and Mu Qing

Here again where Xie Lian having a less than favorable picture of Mu Qing...

I. First Meeting of the Gods General Xuan Zhen and General Nan Yang

"Then we shall see if General Nan Yang and General Xuan Zhen can assist us," Pei Ming replied.

Honestly...I wonder, if Pei Ming wished to make the whole situation more akward for Xie Lian by calling both people that have the most "problematic relationship with Xie Lian"- I cannot believe that Pei Ming did not know this, with how (in)famous Xie Lian was.

Following his line of sight, Xie Lian found Feng Xin and Mu Qing standing separately in the southwest and southeast corners of the hall.

Of course "demonstrating" that they cannot stand each other...

Xie Lian´s pov:

It is very interesting, what Xie Lian had to say about those two...

Feng Xin:

Feng Xin looked the same as in his memories - tall as always, standing extremely straight, his eyes determined, and his brows forever slightly furrowed. It made it seem that there was always something irritating him, but really he wasn´t irritated at all.

Here we can see, that Xie Lian obviously has positive feelings towards Feng Xin. He is "tall", "standing extremely straight", "determined eyes"...these are all rather positive attributes for a warrior, non?

Honestly...the neutral way to describe Feng Xin, would be " looking grumpy".

And look...Xie Lian knew Feng Xin so well, that he could say, that he wasn´t irritated at all. This was just his way of appearing to the world. Some people look naturally "grumpy".

Now let´s come to Mu Qing

Mu Qing, on the other hand, was somewhat different from what he remembered. His face was still pale without much redness, and his lips still thin and pursed, his eyes half-lidded. However, there was an aloof air surrounding him, one that clearly indicated he was interested in neither conversation nor the dispensing of compliments. He stood with his arms crossed, a finger on his right hand tapping his left elbow softly. It was hard to tell if he was at ease or if he was scheming something.

These descriptions - wonderfully- demonstrated the relationship between Xie Lian and his two former subordinates.

The description of Mu Qing was not positive...pale, thin and pursed lips, eyes half-lidded are at best neutral.

I don´t doubt that Mu Qing really "has an aloof air surrounding him" The neutral description really points to it "with his arms crossed, a finger on his right hand tapping his left elbow softly", "half-lidded eyes"...

Honestly...I would have wondered if that person is either bored ( the tapping demonstrating to everybody that he had better things to do than standing around listening to this...a sort of pretense) or (if this was a nervous tick he had developed over the time)

If he had stopped, then maybe, it could have counted as a "neutral description", however Xie Lian "invented even more"...Mu Qing was "clearly indicating" that "he was interested in neither conversation nor the dispensing of compliments."

Fabulous. With just one look Xie Lian told us a little story...and there is another thing clear...

-> Xie Lian cannot read Mu Qing...

Literally tellung us that...("It was hard to tell"...)...

In Xie Lian´s mind...Mu Qing could very well scheming something..against him.

Let´s remember...Xie Lian already knew that he came to him in the form of Fu Yao. But he did not know, why he approached him.

II. Comparison to the description of Feng Xin and Mu Qing during the past in Xianle

The description of Mu Qing

The one who had answered to "demon" paused before he removed the monstrous mask, revealing a delicate, fair face. This youth appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen. His skin and lips were both light in color, fresh and neat, and he bore a pair of bright, shimmering eyes, as black as obsidian. His hair was soft and silky, and a few loose strands lightly littered his forehead and cheeks. He looked quiet and obedient, in constrast to the monstrous demon mask in his hand.

A "delicate, fair face"...

"bright, shimmering eyes, as black as obsidian"

"His hair was soft and silky" Heck even a "few loose strands lightly littered his forehead and cheeks"...

Even that he is pale is expressed like "his skin and lips were both light in color, fresh and neat"

-> A description like for the heroine of a romance novel. That´s a difference like night and day from the description above.

I would supsect that Xie Lian had - at least - considered Mu Qing physically appealing in the past.

The description of Feng Xin

The one who´d arrived was also a young man of sixteen or seventeen. His build was upright and tall, his skin the color of wheat, and on his back, he carried a long black bow and snow-white quiver. His lips were pressed tight, his brows knit. Even at such a young age, his eyes were determined.

-> Fabulous. The description of Feng Xin is very similar to the one above. Maybe a little more romantic...

We learn that Feng Xin is darker than both Xie Lian and far darker than Mu Qing.

From both descriptions can be deduced:

The relationship between Mu Qing and Xie Lian has suffered a significant, and greater decline than the one between Feng Xin and Xie Lian.

III. The significance of status in the "Palace of Divine Might"

It must be known that the Palace of Divine Might was the number one martial palace of heaven, and those without the title of heavenly official had no right to enter or attend court. The first time the Crown Prince of Xianle ascended, Feng Xin and Mu Qing were his deputy generals. At the time, they were only low-ranking officials from the Middle Court without even the right to scrub the floors of the Palace of Divine might. And now, not only could these former junior officials stand openly in the palace´s hall, but their ranks were even higher than that of their former master. What a turn of fate, how times had changed.

This part established how necessary the importance of the god is to survive in the heavens.

There is a line between "Upper Court" and "Middle Court".

There is a line between more important gods and the others...

There is a line between Jun Wu and the rest of the gods

It was a lil´ bit bitter for Xie Lian what a difference in status there was between them...

The remark of "to scrub the floors of the Palace of divine" is most likely directed at Mu Qing. Another proof that the relationship between Xie Lian and Mu Qing was not exactly good right now.

IV. The Meeting!

The three of them looked at each other, eyes flitting all over, stealing glimpses at one another but swiftly turning away and pretending not to care. Who knew what the other two were thinking?

The interest is there! Concerning all three of them!

However still all three are pretending to not care at all.

Like it is expressed here..."Who knew what the other two were thinking?"

V. a reluctant assistance for Pei Ming

Both - Mu Qing and Feng Xin - merely help Pei Ming, due to Jun Wu´s insistance.

Hearing Pei Ming call them out, they both looked toward Jun Wu at the same time. It was only when Jun Wu gave a slight nod that they reluctantly stepped forward.

After all, there were both present in that case...What if anybody found out? What a shame!

The other two, faces austere, took their time in their inspection. Finally, they raised their heads and swept a look at each other, seeming like neither of them wanted to speak first. Ling wen prompted from next to the throne. "Generals. Your conclusion?" It was Feng Xin who spoke first, his voice dark. "It´s him." "The scimitar Eming," Mu Qing added.

Up until this point, when fans read this work for the first time, many won´t have concluded that Mu Qing and Feng Xin are Fu Yao and Nan Feng, since there is so much information you are bombarded with...and then there is the thing...that the readers doesn´t know both characters that were up until this point merely "descriptions and voices in the dark".

The descriptions of Fu Yao, Mu Qing and Feng Xin, Nan Feng are also slightly different...especially in Mu Qing´s case.

-> Time and time again, Xie Lian described Fu Yao as straightforward and not like Mu Qing as "scheming"...and there is some sort of positive feeling of Xie Lian towards both, yet Xie Lian seemed to have merely negative feelings for Mu Qing.

Feng Xin however seems to be easier to recognize...

But both act pretty childish, freer than they behave in their "god form".

Well, it seemed as if they are both reluctant to help the "other side"...Not even Mu Qing.

VI. Leaving

When Feng Xin passed by, he glanced at Xie Lian, looking like he had something to say, but he stopped himself. Xie Lian smiled at him, and he looked startled before hurriedly leaving after all. Mu Qing, on the other hand, walked past without sparing a look, as if Xie Lian didn´t exist. And yet, he deliberately took a path to pass in front of him.

Guilt is written all over Feng Xin...Maybe he would have approached him, but he was still not courageous enough

And Mu Qing? I really like the manhua version. I do think they demonstrated that scene pretty well...It was so obvious for Xie Lian that he was pretending to not care for him, when he took so deliberately a path to pass in front of him. As if showing...Now I am a more important figure than you are...

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #mu qing #feng xin #xianle trio

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moonlight404-translates · 4 months

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A3! Mikage Hisoka | SSR+ - A Mirage in the Moonlight | Translation

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Disclaimer: Neither English nor Japanese is my native language, but I did my best with the translation. If you find any mistakes, feel free to mention it!

Flowers for you / 1

Guy: Mikage, could you sweep the front of the shop? Hisoka: Okay.

Hisoka: …? Hisoka: (There’s something on the bench… A bouquet…?) Hisoka: — Hisoka: (Pale green preserved flowers…)

April: Hey. December: …What? April: August’s birthday is coming, but I have a mission. December: And…? April: …You can’t take the hint, huh? April: You will have to prepare August’s birthday this year. December: …Isn’t that April’s job? April: I only did it because you are idle and wouldn’t do it. December: I don’t mind, but… what present should I get him? April: Think that for yourself. I will send you the ingredients for the cake. Don’t you dare to buy marshmallows even by mistake. December: It would be more tasty if you added marshmallows to it… April: Then, I’m going out to complete my mission. December: Take care. December: (...What do I do with the present?) December: (I don’t know what August would want…)

December: August, what do you want for your birthday? August: My birthday? Aah… December will prepare it this year. August: Because April is still on a mission. August: I would be happy with anything you gave me, but yeah… August: —Flowers would be nice to receive. December: Flowers? …What kind of flowers? August: I will leave that to you, December.

December: (He said he would like flowers, but I haven’t bought flowers until now…) December: (First, let’s search what type of flowers are.) December: (This flower is pretty but not suitable for celebrations… This flower… has a flower language that means ominous.) December: (...There are many restrictions for them. What a problem.) April: Did you decide what you will do, December? December: August said he wanted flowers. …But there are many problematic things you must be careful with. April: Don’t use that as a reason to desist. December: …I know. December: (I wasn’t planning to desist, but there’s a lot to think about this, should I just buy something like that in a flower shop…?)

Flowers for you / 2

December: … Employee: Are you looking for something in particular? December: …I want to give a present to a family member, but I don’t know which would be good. Employee: In that case, I could help you with that. When is their birthday? December: …It’s in August. Employee: It’s still a bit early for it… by the way, when do you plan to give the bouquet? December: On the birthday day. Employee: I understand… Employee: With all due respect… if you buy it now, the flowers might be mostly withered by then. December: (Now that I think of it, that might be true…) December: (But, if I wait until his birthday to buy them, I will forget. And April will get mad at me for sure…) December: What should I do…? Employee: …That’s it. How about preserved flowers? December: Preserved…? Employee: Those won’t wither. December: Heh… Employee: Unfortunately, we don’t work with those flowers yet… But you can search for a shop that has them. December: …Thank you. I will do it.

December: (I haven’t been here in a while…) December: (It seems like there’s a flower shop selling them around here according to my search…) December: (...This shop.) Employee: Welcome. December: Do you have preserved flowers…? Employee: Yes, they are these here. December: (These…? There aren’t any colorful ones left…) December: (But these flowers… have a color similar to August’s hair.) December: (Let’s pick this.)

December: (I’m glad I could buy the present. Now I should head back to the hideout—) Child A: You’re creepy! Child B: Go away! Child C: Uugh… December: —- December: Hey, what did that child do? Child A: What, that has nothing to with you! December: But it’s unfair to gang up against a single person. Child B: Shut up! Go away! – They try to hit December, but he avoids it – December: … December: (My right eye…)

Flowers for you / 3

Child A: …H-His right eye looks weird! Child B: Run! December: Ah…

Man: That eye is no good… Woman: If that child is close, bad things will happen. Man: He must be jinxed. Hisoka: That’s not true… I…

Child C: …Big brother. December: …! December: …Are you okay? Child C: Yes, thanks. Didn’t they hit your right side…? December: No. I avoided it just in time. Child C: I’m glad. So there are kind people like you, big brother. December: …It would be nice if everyone could be like that. Child C: …Yes. December: … Child C: …This is the first time someone pats my head like this. Child C: Then, I’ll get going. December: Take care. December: Sigh… December: (The flowers’ color… is similar to my eye color.) December: (Maybe I shouldn’t give him a flower with that color…)

December: (I finished the mission, now I just have to get back. Then we will have August's birthday party.) December: (But… is it really okay to give him these flowers?) August: December, you were here? April: What made you space out? December: You two… why… August: We got tired of waiting for you to come back and came to pick you up. August: Is that bouquet for me? December: …Yes, but… August: It’s so pretty. It’s the same color as December’s eyes. December: My eye color… December: …I’m glad that it made you happy. August: Of course, I’m happy. You choose it for me, December. April: …We have to go back soon before the date change. August: The first thing we will do when we’re back is make the cake. April: But I will be the one doing most of the work on the end. December: That’s April’s job.

Hisoka: (What a nostalgic memory…) Boy: Ah! That…! Hisoka: Are these flowers yours? Boy: Yes! I’m glad I could find it~. Hisoka: Here. Boy: Thank you! Boy: I was going to give them to my mom, but I got engrossed in the conversation with my friend on the bench… Hisoka: I see… I’m glad you could come to get it.Boy: Thank you very much! Bye-bye~! Hisoka: Take care. Homare: Ooh, are you sweeping, Hisoka-kun? Azuma: The shop might not be open yet. Hisoka: Everyone… came to have a drink. Tsumugi: It happened that our schedules matched today. Tasuku: Can we give these refreshments to Guy? Hisoka: …Sure, no problem. Hisoka: I was about to put the open sign, so please get inside.

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Curiosity: In Hisoka's Superb ★ Winter Fruits backstage, there's a reference about Hisoka's eyes color. When Hisoka was going to pick some sea glass for the director, he was unsure if she would like the color. But then she mentions that the color is like his eyes color. Then he cheers up and pick up the sea glass for her. Does this have anything to do with the backstage? Nope, but I just remembered it while I was translating it (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

#a3! translation #hisoka mikage #a3!#a3! hisoka #a3! backstage story

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

House Call | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I've been wiring a lot of angst lately, so here's a nice fluffy one for you :)

If you like my stuff throw me a reblog 🥰

Warnings: fluff, mentions of medication, sleepy Bucky

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

A quaint, adorable cabin appeared almost like magic as Bucky turned down a private dirt road. The house sat secluded beneath massive sycamore trees, their leaves aglow with the colors of fall. The whole thing seemed too good to be true, too picturesque to even be real. Neither you nor Bucky could believe that Clint had such a gorgeous place, or that he was nice enough to lend the house out for the long weekend. But he’d done so without hang ups- except one.

He made you promise that your trip wouldn’t include sex on the kitchen counter of his vacation home. “Oh, come on!” Bucky elbowed Clint in the ribs, “I’ve been looking forward to kitchen counter sex for weeks!”

But after the four-hour drive, neither you nor Bucky felt like doing the deed. You’d left right after your final meeting of the day, hoping to beat the rush hour traffic- with no such luck. The two of you sat in a bumper-to-bumper nightmare that seemed to last an eternity. People honked and cursed at each other as tempers flared, but you and Bucky were in your own little world. With anyone else at the wheel, you would’ve been fed up after the first hour.

But being with Bucky only brought you happiness, even if you were trapped in gridlock traffic. You’d been missing him terribly lately, seeing him less and less as things with the Flag Smashers came to a head. But now that the situation had calmed down, Bucky was all yours.

“Hey- gimme that”, Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with faux-annoyance and snaked your bag from your hand, “I got it, sweets”. You rolled your eyes at him like you always did, but his chivalrous tendencies made you feel special. He always insisted on carrying your things and offering you his coat as though it were still 1940. And you let him. You loved his sweet, old-fashioned nature. He was thoughtful and polite, and always always put you first.

“Thanks, Buck”. Pressing up on your tiptoes, you left a kiss on his cheek, “Such a gentleman.”

Like always, Bucky opened the door for you and insisted you enter first. When Clint had described the place as “charming”, he wasn’t kidding. It was cozy and warm with a welcoming air that drew you in immediately. Soft blankets, warm wood, and a massive brick fireplace combined to create a perfect getaway. An overwhelming sense of comfort wrapped you in a hug as you thought about sipping hot cocoa by the fire with Bucky. Laura had obviously furnished the space with heaps of love, and managed to create the perfect space for a long weekend away.

“Oh my god, this place is adorable”, you turned to Bucky, excitement setting your eyes alight. “Can we live here? I think we should live here. I don’t think Clint will mind”.

Bucky covered his face and let out a booming laugh, “yeah, doll. I think Clint would love that.” He couldn’t wait to spend a few uninterrupted days with his best girl in the secluded cabin. He missed you so much that it actually hurt. Being away for so long caused a physical ache in his chest that he swore would kill him if he spent one more day without you. He wanted to curl up in front of the fire with you in his arms and make up for all the time he’d spent without you by his side.

“How about we change into comfy clothes and get the fire started? Let’s get cozy, Sarge”. You shot Bucky a wink and snatched your bag from his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a sec”. Once you located the perfectly decorated master bedroom, you dug through your bag for your pajamas. Nothing sounded better than shedding your work clothes and slipping into something comfortable. These days, your sleepwear consisted of old shirts of Bucky’s, and Bucky was more than happy to give them to you. He loved seeing you wear his clothes. It made him almost as happy as his dog tags resting around your neck.

He’d been nervous to give them to you at first, fearing it was maybe too old-fashioned. But you’d accepted them without pause and threw the chain around your neck before Bucky could even blink. From then on, he never saw you without them. They rested comfortably on your chest no matter the occasion- you wore them proudly.

Just as Bucky knelt in front of the fireplace, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” he heard you mutter from the bedroom. Instant alarm set him on high alert. He flew to the bedroom with his heart in his throat, fearing he’d find you in a pool of your own blood. But when he finally burst through the bedroom door, there was no blood in sight. You sat on the edge of the bed with your bag on your lap, your hands digging through it with like a dog in search a buried bone.

“Is everything alright, doll?”

“What?” Your head snapped in Bucky’s direction, “Oh, yeah. I’m good”. You forced a smile to your face that made your cheeks ache, but Bucky saw right through you.

“Are you sure about that, sweets? Cause you just said ‘shit’ like eleven times.”

With a huff, you conceded. “It’s fine- it’s not a big deal. I just forgot one of my meds, that’s all.” You threw Bucky an overly casual shrug, “my bad”.

But Bucky wasn’t going to allow you to downplay the issue, “Which one?”

“The one for my anxiety. But it’ll be fine. We’re only gonna be here for four days- missing those doses won’t kill me.” Once again, you diminished your problem. Bucky knew how important it was for you to remember to take your meds, and how shitty you’d feel if you missed four days’ worth.

“But isn’t that the pill that gives you, um…the brain thing? When you don’t take it, I mean. It gives you ‘brain buzzes’?”

Regardless of your situation, you couldn’t help but laugh. Bucky was just so sweet, so innocent and cute. “Close!” you laughed, “Brain zaps. I get brain zaps if I go without it for too long.”

Bucky‘s brow furrowed. He’d been with you long enough to know that four days without your medication was plenty of time for the brain zaps to set in. Thousands of thoughts crowded his mind as he tried desperately to find a solution to the problem, but you were in the middle of nowhere, four hours from home. He couldn’t run to the apartment and grab your pills or pop out to CVS and speak with a pharmacist about getting you four days’ worth of meds. All he wanted was for you to enjoy your little getaway, but the brain zaps threatened to ruin everything.

“Buck, you’re getting all worried. I can see it in your jaw…” You took Bucky’s face in your hands and gently massaged the tight muscles in his jaw until he finally released the tension. “This isn’t something to get upset about, I’ll be fine. I can push through! I went like two weeks without my meds once- I’ll live through four days.”

Bucky’s arms wound around you as you leaned into his body. He was always so good to you, so dedicated to taking care of every little thing. He wanted every moment you spent together to be more perfect than the last, and if you were going to be miserable without your meds, he needed to find a way to fix it.

A strong yawn took hold of you as you flicked your eyes toward the clock. “Come on, Buck. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s late and we’re both tired- we’ll do fun cabin activities tomorrow”.

Regardless of the worry settling in Bucky’s stomach, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you in your pajamas. You looked so perfect in his shirt, and his dog tags peeking out from beneath the collar was almost too much. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. When he’d finally made you his, he promised himself that he’d do everything in his power to make you as happy as humanly possible- and he was determined to keep that promise.

“I’m so glad we did this”, you crawled into bed and dropped a light kiss to Bucky’s lips. “You need a vacation. And I- I’ve really missed you…”

Bucky pulled you in close to his body, wrapping you in his strong, protective arms. Each time the world needed saving, it robbed him of his time with you. And while he hated the Flag Smashers for a long list of reasons, depriving him of his best girl took the number one spot.

“I know, sweets. I hate that I was away for so long, and I know I didn’t get to talk to you much while I was gone…” Bucky sighed as a twinge of guilt crept into his chest. He did his very best to communicate with you when he could on long missions, but free time was hard to come by. And if someone tracked his phone to get his location, he’d be dead before you’d even read his text.

“Buuuuuuuuuck…” you almost nagged him. You wriggled free from his grasp and took his face in your hands, pulling him so close that the tip of his nose brushed yours. “You don’t have to apologize- I know what to expect when you’re working. The only thing I care about is that you come home safe.”

Bucky’s forehead fell against yours, and his eyes fluttered shut as you ran your thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. These were the moments he missed most. Of course, he missed your museum dates and the long, sensual showers you shared- but nothing could quite compare to this. He missed the quiet intimacy. He missed hearing nothing but the sound of his heart and yours, beating almost in sync. Being away from you always knocked Bucky off-kilter, leaving him feeling eschew and unbalanced until he saw you again.

“I know, doll. I just- I want you to know how much I miss you when I’m gone. I don’t ever want to leave you- my job is just…different.” Bucky knew he could never make it up to you- all the time away and the days or weeks spent without contact. He knew he nearly stopped your heart every time he came home slick with blood and nearly dead.

“I know it’s hard on you, doll”.

“It’s hard on me? Buck, I’m not the one saving the world-”

“But you worry the entire time I’m gone. And then you worry when I come home hurt. And I know you’re always wondering when I’ll have to leave next. It takes a lot out of you.” Bucky knew you too well. He saw right through the casual shrug you threw his way, the small smile that tried and failed to hide just how emotionally exhausted you were.

He knew just how hard you worked to keep things together while he was away. If the situation were reversed, he’d be incapable of carrying on as he waited for you to return home. But you managed to keep a brave face, to support him and care for him in a way he never imagined.

Bucky never let an opportunity to express his gratitude pass, “I just want you to know that I notice. And I appreciate you- so much, baby.”

Without words, you migrated your head down to his chest. If Clint allowed it, you’d permanently move into this quiet, cozy cabin with Bucky. The two of you would live out your days in the warm peace of the deep forest and the crackling fire.

“Well, I love you, Buck. I’d do anything for you…” And with that, you drifted off to sleep. Having Bucky all to yourself in the safety of the small cabin set your anxiety as ease, ushering you to rest. For the next few days, you didn’t have to worry about Bucky’s next mission- or whether it would be his last.

Bucky smiled down at you as his fingers gently weaved in and out of your hair. “I love you, too, doll”, he knew you couldn’t hear him, but never dared ignore a chance to tell you. He laid like that for a long while, just admiring your serene expression and your sleepy sounds.

Just like you’d said, you’d do anything for Bucky. And he’d do the same for you. And so, with you lying fast asleep on top of him, Bucky made his move. He slowly snaked himself out from under your body, careful not to wake his best girl. He haphazardly threw on his clothes and laced up his boots before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead- a kiss that held a wordless promise to return before you woke. A strange appreciation for his Winter Soldier training cropped up as he stalked through the cabin and arrived at the car without making a sound- at least it had been good for something.

It was only a four-hour drive to the apartment- and that was with traffic. He figured he could make it there, grab your meds, and return to the cabin before you even stirred. He could then slide back into bed with you, satisfied that the brain zaps wouldn’t prevail.

But he underestimated just how tired he was, how long and winding the back roads near the cabin really were. And the drive simply wasn’t the same without you. He missed holding your hand and kissing at stoplights, listening you sing along to one of the many playlists you made him. But the dark, quiet ride was worth the exhaustion and boredom. He needed this long-awaited weekend to be perfect. He knew you’d been white-knuckling it for a while, watching from the sidelines as things with the Flag Smashers boiled over. You deserved to enjoy yourself.

Bucky sped through the night, determined to get you what you needed before sunrise.

Morning light bathed the bedroom in a golden glow, gently rousing you from your sleep. But you weren’t ready to get up just yet- you and Bucky promised to sleep in this weekend. With a quiet groan, you rolled away from the sun’s annoying rays, and planned to bury your face in Bucky’s chest. But after scrounging around with closed eyes for Bucky’s safe embrace, your search turned up empty. The sheets were cold and the room quiet, completely void of the quiet whirring of his arm.

“Buck?” you called into the quiet house, but received no reply.

A familiar dread settled into your chest as you crept through the silent cabin. It didn’t happen often, but there were times in the dead of night that Rhodes or Agent Hill needed Bucky last minute. They’d land a jet nearby and abduct him from your side- at least, that’s how it felt. He’d leave you a handwritten note in his sloppy, scrawling cursive, always saying that he didn’t want to wake you. He’d give you all his love and apologize for leaving yet again, and with a broken heart, you’d add his latest letter to the pile.

As you moved through room after room, you still hoped for the best. “Bucky?” you called again, struggling to keep it together. And just as you resolved that he’d left in the middle of the night to go save the world, a quiet whirring caught your attention. The sound instantly granted you peace.

You rushed around the corner and into the living room, only to discover a sleeping Bucky. He lay slumped in an armchair snoring quietly and wearing one unlaced boot. The other sat abandoned on the floor next to his car keys and jacket, painting a very strange picture. But as you struggled to make sense of the scene before you, a small orange bottle caught your eye.

An all-encompassing warmth eclipsed your senses as you stared down at him- the kindest person you’d ever known. Bucky’s massive hand gripped the anxiety meds you’d left behind, safely holding them to his chest. He was just too good- too sweet, too thoughtful, too selfless. No one had ever cared for you like this. No one had ever made you feel so loved, so seen. Bucky offered you all of his love, all of himself. He hated being away from you, but devoted all of his time to you when he was home. And this weekend trip was no different. It was his life’s mission to take care of you, and he’d done just that.

“Buck…” you whispered, “Bucky, baby, wake up”. Your hand cupped his cheek and traced his cheekbone with your thumb, pulling him gently out of his slumber.

He blinked a few times as he struggled to orient himself in the unfamiliar space, but your touch brought him all the clarity he needed. “Hey, sweetheart. Good morning…” he leaned into your touch and granted you a sleepy, dopey smile. Nothing was ever as cute as Bucky in the morning, with his disheveled hair and tired eyes.

“I um, I got you this…” Bucky presented you with your bottle of medication, “I didn’t want you to have brain zaps”.

Sometimes, Bucky was unbelievable. He was too good to be true. But he was true, and he was yours. “This is so- thank you. Thank you so much. You’re always so good to me.”

“I just wanted you to have a perfect weekend,” Bucky dropped his head forward, resting it against your abdomen.

“With or without brain zaps, this is already the perfect weekend. All I want is to be with you, Buck”. You ran your hands gently through his hair, scratching your nails gently against his scalp. “But I can’t thank you enough for this. You didn’t have to…but I really really appreciate it.”

Bucky gazed up at you with a love drunk grin. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy and safe and comfortable. He’d drive eight hours in the dark every night if it would make you smile. He always felt like he dropped the ball, like he was abandoning you to do SWORD’s dirty work. But the look on your face said everything he needed to hear.

“Here, let’s get you to bed”. With a gentle tug, you pulled Bucky’s remaining boot from his foot. “What, did taking off the first one tire you out? Was that the straw that broke the camel’s back?”

Bucky’s groggy laugh came out a low rumble, “yeah, guess so. I was just gonna get back in bed with you, but… you wouldn’t believe how tiring it is to take off a shoe”.

With both of Bucky’s feet free from their boots, you helped your super soldier from his armchair. And even though Bucky was the one who’d only slept for a total of half an hour, he insisted on carrying you to bed. His strong arms held you close to his chest, pressing your body against his heartbeat. You knew the sound so well it sometimes felt like your personal metronome.

Bucky stripped out of his clothes and finally crawled into bed with a deep sigh of relief. He’d thought about this moment from the second he pulled away from the house. “Get over here, Barnes”, you offered your arms to Bucky and allowed himself to rest his massive body atop yours. His head fell against your sternum and before you knew it, you’d both drifted off to sleep. You remained locked together for a long while, making good on your promise to sleep in.

——————————

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delopsia · 5 months

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del 💓 you said “rhett wants to jump straight to putting up the christmas tree and related decor, and bobby has to fight for his life to keep it at bay” and it got me wondering if this is how things go in the floytt household? 😂 do robby and reader kind of bend to rhett’s will and desires a lot of the time? does he pout for things and butter them up with kisses and hugs and soft-drawled pleas, or has he just taken to independent freedom and happiness so hard that he just starts doing things and neither reader nor robby have the heart to stop him—except where winter holiday decorations are concerned?

omg and not to encourage rhett 😂 but what does the floytt family christmas tree look like?

first of all, real or fake? i have a feeling that someone is allergic and thankfully knows it so decorating and subsequent celebrating goes off without a hitch...

is it rhett-sized or much shorter? the thought of any of them being taller than their tree is a little hilarious to me...

is it pine green or white / vintage colorful? can christmas-loving rhett appreciate wacking aesthetics from the 60s or is he a red and green traditionalist?

colorful lights or white lights? random collection of ornaments or matching cohesive store bought? i know what i think, but i wanna hear what you think 😌

are they tinsel garland people? or popcorn string people?

do they make it a whole affair, putting it up and decorating? are they playing music while they eat seasonal snacks and sweets from the grocery store? omg do they bake cookies? i think christmas is the only time of year that rhett will eat non-fruit sweets and desserts, but robby says it hardly counts because everything still has a tendency to be fruity or vanilla, not to mention most of it is candy cane flavored!

rhett ends up eating all those (i don’t know if you know what i’m talking about because they might be regional or generational [omg] but i hope you do) vanilla snowmen stick-less ice cream bars on him in retaliation *cue tackling in 3, 2, 1*

and please don’t stress too hard about the void au 🥺☁️💕💐

aaaa! omg hello 💐💕

It...it is...

A majority of the time, Robby is just fighting for his life in this household. He has his set dates for when every holiday celebration should begin, how early is too early, and what the best day is to take down the decor...and Rhett is simply fueled by the sheer power of vibes. It drives Bob mad. There's no order! If Rhett could have his way, Halloween decor would be out in August, Christmas would be up November 1st, and it would stay up past Valentine's Day.

But his excitement is so damn contagious. How is anyone supposed to say no when Rhett's got a Santa hat held between his teeth as he digs through a box in search of their matching candy cane keychains? Bob tries for all of half a second, but then Rhett's looking up at him with those big, confused puppy eyes, and the effort flies out the window.

Usually, it ends in a compromise of baking Christmas cookies the day after Halloween and getting out the small things. But the tree stays put away until the day after Thanksgiving. It is not coming out any earlier than that. But there was that one year when he was away on deployment, and Rhett convinced the Reader to get it out in early November.

Bob's still (jokingly) annoyed about that, by the way.

I could have sworn that somewhere around here, I mentioned Bob having a pine allergy...but I cannot find it to save my life. A part of me likes to think that Rhett grew up having a real tree every year, and now he's just perpetually confused about the whole fake tree thing. Why does it feel like that?

dfkjgh the concept of using Rhett as a unit of measurement is so funny to me 😭 there are two trees. The first one came about the first year in the house. With the chaos of getting settled in and work getting in the way, Christmas took a weird place on the back burner, where it was high on the list of things to do but kept getting pushed off. Rhett's knee was hurting him, Bob and Reader went off and got sick twice, and all of a sudden, it was December 3rd and they had no damn tree. So Bob, mid-sickness, bought one online.

You can imagine his and Reader's surprise when they came home to find Rhett in the living room, staring down at the frailest tree they'd ever seen. Fully set up, fluffed, and leaning over because the tree topper was too damn big. It didn't even have lights!

The joys of no-return policies and not reading the fine print.

Twas a true Charlie Brown Christmas. That poor tree had to sit in the corner because it would just...fall over. Reader looked at it funny one afternoon, and the damn thing dropped dead.

But the second tree is a completely different story. The high ceilings in the living room allow them to get away with virtually any sized tree, and one way or another, they wound up with a ten-foot-tall tree (Which is the only thing stopping Rhett from getting it out by himself). They had their choice between a regular green and a flocked tree; the Reader was the deciding factor on which they got. It's got the fancy color-changing mode because nobody could decide on colorful or light.

Bob usually sets it on white, and then Rhett passes by and sets it to the blinking rainbow setting. It's a quiet war every year.

The ornaments start out cohesive, but the next year, the Reader finds their decor that went missing during the move, and things slowly start to randomize. Some fall and break. The trio finds adorable new sets of ornaments that weren't out the year prior, and the aesthetic falls into adorable disarray.

The only consistent decor is the topper. An adorable animated biplane that Nat gifted them. Always happily spinning at the top of the tree and will only ever be replaced if they inexplicably discover a version with an F/A-18...

I don't know if this counts as a Christmas tree, but there's a two-foot-tall rainbow tree in the kitchen that Rhett inexplicably came home with one day. A gift from a well-meaning boss who doesn't quite get the whole "just because I'm married to two people doesn't mean I'll only accept Pride-themed gifts" thing. It serves as home to all the weird ornaments that get collected over the year.

A chicken wing ornament simply does not belong on the main tree...

With three people, the tree gets busy a little...fast...so the tinsel garland makes an adorable appearance on the staircase banister. Usually matching the wreath on the front door.

It's an entire weekend venture! Saturdays are reserved for the tree-related fussings (getting a ten-foot tree out of the attic is a hell of a venture), and Sundays are for the general decor. Wreaths, knick-knacks, stockings over the fireplace, various figurines, and the stuff in the front yard. The three deer are the first to go out there, because, one way or another, each member of the household is represented by one of the deer. One might or might not have an old pair of glasses hot-glued to its face...

Festive music is a must! Rhett's still got some CDs that he used to play in his truck, and once those have been played out, it switches to whatever playlist someone has made. Sometimes, they'll take a break and head to the grocery store for some seasonal snacks out of the bakery section, but a lot of the time, someone has already brought some home. There's an adorable bakery on the route home, and it's so hard to not stop at.

Baking cookies, omg. Bobby's momma gifted them a 12 Days of Christmas Cookies recipe book, and every year they go through it. They try to bake one set every few days, but every once in a while, something happens, and like four types get baked in a day. Rhett's partial to Kołaczki (Polish filled cookies), and Cowboy Cookies. Who could have guessed. Bob is a simple man who would commit a crime for Danish Butter Cookies. Please don't ask how many blue tins he owns. He's lost count.

But nothing can come between these two and their mints. Buttermints, candy canes, those soft peppermint puffs that are sold by more brands than I can count but always seem to taste the same. They're insufferably minty until they run out of mints after the New Year. If it's mint, they're eating it.

I swear I have seen these vanilla snowman bars somewhere! I know I've never had them, but they looked so damn familiar when I looked them up. They absolutely get rationed out because otherwise, Rhett will eat them all in the span of two days.

But then there was also that year when Bob brought home a couple boxes of them, and Rhett moved them out to the garage freezer because they kept falling every time he opened the door. Except, he didn't tell Bob, so that coming Friday, Bob came home with more.

Rinse and repeat until he cracks and asks how Rhett and Reader have eaten so damn many so fast, and Rhett realizes what happened. That may have been the longest wrestling match they've ever had.

In better news, they had enough snowmen to last till Spring.

#rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #💐#delgato's asks #milesmillergf #tw food #hawthorn au

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