#you'd be alone. she'd be alone. and who'd survive that.
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(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual
His POV Story
The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.
Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)
Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)
—
I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.
I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.
I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...
"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."
Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.
(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)
Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...
The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.
(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)
(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)
(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)
Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?
My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.
Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.
Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?
Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.
Gilbert: Of course it's alright.
(...You probably have a lot to think over.)
Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.
She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.
(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)
Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.
In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.
[flashback to Case 1]
Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?
Emma: ...Yeah, it was.
Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.
Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?
Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?
[end flashback]
(That's what you said this morning, right?)
(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)
The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.
Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.
So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.
Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?
Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.
(Oh, I see...)
(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)
(...That's just so like the old me.)
A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.
And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.
That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.
(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)
(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)
Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...
Emma: ...
Gilbert: ......
Emma: ......Gil.
The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.
Emma: Are there any easier political science books?
Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.
Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.
Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?
Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!
Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?
Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
Emma: ...Please, Gil.
Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.
Emma: Then how about...
When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.
Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.
Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.
Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?
Emma: ...
Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.
Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?
Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.
Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?
Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—
I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.
Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.
(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)
(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)
Emma: I was... going to study...
Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.
Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.
I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.
The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.
Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?
Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.
Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.
(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)
The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.
Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.
Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.
Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.
Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...
She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.
Emma: This afternoon, too, you...
Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.
Emma: ...
Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.
When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.
Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.
Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.
Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.
Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.
(Jeez, you truly are...)
Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.
Emma: Ah...
I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.
The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.
Emma: Gil... mn...
Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?
Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.
Emma: .......You're so mean.
Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?
(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)
After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.
I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.
Roderic: Pardon me, sir.
Gilbert: I figured you'd come.
When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.
Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.
Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.
Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.
Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.
Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.
Gilbert: Neither can I.
I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.
[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]
Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.
Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.
Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.
Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.
Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.
(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)
While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.
Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.
Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.
Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.
Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.
(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)
Roderic: ...Understood, sir.
After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.
Gilbert: What's the next document?
Roderic: It's here, sir.
Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?
Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.
Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.
(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)
Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.
Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.
Roderic: No, sir, it's not.
(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)
(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)
(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)
Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?
Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.
Roderic: Please don't say that!
Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.
Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."
Roderic: ...Very well, sir.
(Even so...)
I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.
The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.
But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.
Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.
Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.
Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?
Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.
Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.
(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)
The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.
Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.
Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.
Gilbert: Well that's a given.
Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.
Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.
Emma: I was looking at you!?
Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.
Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?
Emma: ......
The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.
I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.
But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.
(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)
Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?
Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.
Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.
Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.
Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.
Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.
Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.
(...Hm?)
The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.
(Have I said something wrong?)
I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.
Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,
Emma: ...I wasn't lying.
Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?
Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.
Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.
(......)
Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...
(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)
(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)
(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)
Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.
There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.
This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.
It was practically a miracle.
Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.
Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.
Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.
I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.
Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?
Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?
Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.
Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.
Emma: I'll work diligently then.
Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.
(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)
And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.
(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)
(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)
(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)
(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)
(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)
When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.
Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.
Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.
(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)
(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)
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Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1
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Little Star
Chapter One
Astarion X Reader
It had been nearly a year now since the Netherbrain was defeated, sent plummeting into the Lower City harbor waters. Baldur's Gate lay in ruins, but its citizens lived. Your party had survived, and now were regarded as heroes. You and Astarion now travelled the lands of Faerun, searching for a cure to you lover's vampirism. An impossible prospect, perhaps, but you'd already achieved the impossible. What was this one little task?
The stars glittered overhead as you looked around the old familiar campsite, which now held tables laden with food and wine that you would've given your left hand for on that first night of your adventure.
You looked around, your heart swelling at the sight of all your companions gathered and speaking together, like they used to. It had been ten months since you'd all been together like this, and though you and Astarion had found yourselves very happy together, you had to admit that your own home felt empty when compared to the crowded closeness of the campsite you had inhabited for so long.
You looked over at your lover, and he smiled softly back at you, offering his hand. You took it gratefully and stepped into the camp, breathing in the fresh smell of earth and the forest.
"It is a rather beautiful night, is it not?" he said casually, glancing up at the stars. You nodded your agreement, but felt your heart ache a little. He never looked at the stars with the same admiration and reverence that he had held when he looked up at the blue sky in the daytime. You knew he missed walking in the sun more and more each day, and each moment only solidified your resolve to find a way to let him do so again.
The first person you ran into was Shadowheart, and you couldn't help but feel a little surprised when she threw her arms around you and hugged you tightly. Not that you minded.
"Shadowheart!" You embraced your old friend, and stayed there a moment before drawing back. She laughed and smiled brightly at you, while Astarion quickly excused himself to take stock of the table's wine supply.
"You've filled out a little," she teased. "I guess you've had some more substantial food than camp rations, huh?"
You rolled your eyes at the jab but smiled. "It's been nice... though I do miss sleeping under the stars sometimes."
The two of you chatted for a little while. She'd been travelling, visiting temples of Selûne, evading worshippers of Shar, generally just going her own way. You were glad she was doing well. She seemed... happy, a far cry from the morose Shadowheart you'd known when she followed Shar.
You bid her a temporary farewell and moved on to find your other friends. Karlach and Wyll, who'd both been braving the heat of Avernus together, fighting off Zariel's forces and searching for ways to repair Karlach's engine. The one-horned tiefling was as bubbly as ever, with a newly ignited hope at finally being able to leave the Hells.
"Can you believe it, soldier?" she said, after releasing you from her bear hug, which you managed to escape with only some mild flame flareup. "Right on one of those fuckin' imps we killed! Blueprints and a map to one of Zariel's very own forges!"
That excitement from her was familiar. She had been just as happy when she found out that Dammon could repair her engine enough so that she could have physical contact without singeing whoever she was trying to hug, but this was even more energetic and vigorous. She had hope now, more so then she'd had when she'd been forced to step back into the Hells. You still felt back about not going with her, but you couldn't have left Astarion. At least she hadn't been alone.
The flames around her flickered as she chattered to you about the past year, brightening when she got excited and calming down again when she did. Like a visible mood meter.
Her presence was familiar and warm, in both the literal and nostalgic sense. You'd missed her chatter, her encouragement, her habit of dancing when she got excited. She and Wyll suited each other, in that regard.
Wyll, for his part, hadn't changed much either. His armor was new, adorned with what you thought might have been imp horns, but you didn't ask. He had a goblet of wine already, though you hadn't expected any less of him.
You moved on from the fiery pair, talking to each companion as you came across them. Jaheira had fared well enough, helping her children to rebuild the city. Halsin had returned to the former Shadowlands, to assist the inhabitants in building new homes there. Apparently he had several dozen wards at this point, all of which he treated as his own beloved children. He asked you for stories, admitting that he'd run out of ones to tell the insistent little ones at bedtime.
Finally, you moved on to Lae'zel, or at least some form of her. She was cloaked in some shimmery purple sheen, and you could see right through her to the rocks and grass she stood in front of. She had the same proud and haughty look as she always did, though her gaze softened significantly when she laid eyes on you. She, physically, was still in the Astral Plane, continuing her campaign against the Lich Queen Vlaakith.
"For two months I trained the Knights of the Comet," she started, and you smiled slightly and crossed your arms, willing to let her play out her usual dramatics. "For two more I skewered kith'raki bellies. For two more yet, I travelled through Limbo."
You thought you could see a smile playing at her alien features, confirmed by what she said next. "But to see your face... it brings me even more pleasure than taking a royal inquisitor's head."
You couldn't help but laugh. That, coming from Lae'zel, was the highest form of praise. "I missed you too. How are you doing?"
She regaled you with tails of battles fought against the allies of Vlaakith, of an offered alliance between her and the leader of the githzarai. A powerful connection, one that was sure to raise her chances against the false queen that still had her people securely under her control. You didn't doubt that Lae'zel would succeed in bringing her down, though. If anyone could, it was the resolute fighter. She'd have her revenge, or she'd die trying.
And by gods, did she not die easily.
You bid the luminescent form farewell and looked back around camp, seeing if there was anyone you'd missed. Suddenly, tucked away in some corner of the camp, you noticed a form that was glowing almost the same way that Lae'zel's projection was, yet... different somehow. And this image took the form of Gale.
You hurried over, excited, thinking that perhaps the pragmatic wizard had simply not found time to visit the party in person, and sent a projection in his place.
"Gale!" You greeted, looking into the glowing, empty eyes of the figure, and as he turned to meet your gaze, you couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. The glowing form moved methodically, without thought or real intent. When you spoke to it, you see any recognition in its dull eyes.
"Well met!" he said, his words empty of any real emotion, sounding more rehearsed then anything. "I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you're seeing this manifestation it means I have prematurely perished.
The words hit you like a charging owlbear, and you felt your heart lurch painfully in your chest. Perished? Surely he wasn't...
"Alas," not-quite-Gale continued in his cheery tone. "It appears on this occasion I have been erased from this plane in both soul and substance, so the usual methods for re-vivification cannot be followed. I am, however, available for the duration of this spell to assist in the tying of any loose ends related to my recent departure from mortality."
You could feel panic setting in. You had been unable to keep Gale from going after the Crown of Karsus, the determined spellcaster too ambitious to let an opportunity to challenge Mystra's authority pass. But you hadn't expected... he couldn't be...
"...I missed you, Gale," you choked out, unable to think of anything else to say except what you would have said to his living form. "It's good to see you."
"Fortunately, I am here to help in cushioning that heaviest of blows," Gale said, smiling softly. "I have been entrusted with the delivery of a letter, to be given to the one who cared most for me in life."
The projection summoned a letter from somewhere and handed it to you. It was carefully tucked into a leather envelope, clearly meant to be kept safe from whatever it might go through to get to you. You started down at it, unsure of what to say, and just held it to your chest for a moment.
"And with that, I'm afraid my spell is waning," Gale said, and he looked at you with a small tilt of his head. "Is there anything else you need of me before I blink out of existence?"
Only Gale would have designed a projection of himself delivering news of his death to be so blunt.
You felt yourself tear up and suddenly stepped forward to hug him, which seemed to work only for a moment before he glowed suddenly brighter, and you felt your arms pass right through him.
You stepped back, tears now coming down your face freely, and you watched the spectral form begin to flicker and fade.
"... to think that godhood was worth giving up all this," the projection said softly, and for a moment you could hear a trace of him, of the real Gale, in his tone before he disappeared completely.
So that was it. Gale was gone.
You tucked the letter away and stumbled away from the place that the projection had stood, letting your feet carry you away to a place you could find comfort.
Astarion looked up as you approached, the smile fading quickly from his face when he saw the tears shining in the torchlight.
"Dearest, what's wrong? Are-" he didn't get to finish before you threw your arms around him and buried your face in his shoulder, shaking slightly as the emotions tore through you.
He didn't say anything for a moment, just wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace, letting you sob into his shoulder for a while.
"There, darling... I've got you..." he murmured softly. "Whatever is the matter?"
You couldn't say anything still as you pulled back, so you just handed him the letter. He opened it and scanned over it quickly, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the words.
"Oh dear..."
"He's gone, Star," you said shakily, trying to keep yourself quiet. You felt bad for coming and falling apart on him when he was supposed to be able to celebrate, but you couldn't imagine going to anyone else. "He's... gone."
Astarion set the letter aside and gently took your hands again, pulling you back into his embrace. Though he'd grown a lot more touchy and cuddly in the past year you'd been together, you appreciated him being willing to hold you right now, when you were being so emotional.
You stayed there for a while, in the arms of your lover, while he comforted you gently just like you'd done for him so many times before, when he snapped out of nightmares haunted by Cazador's cruel image, when he broke down crying from the hurt of it all.
You never mocked him or called him weak for that.
The party continued, and after a while you were able to go and find some joy with your friends. Withers raised a toast, and you felt his words bring some comfort to you.
"The balance of the world restored. The balance of these lives, mortal or otherwise, brought to account." he said, his skeletal and shrunken face looking out over the gathered group. "Hear me, thou heroes, wastrels, friends. I have waited long to tell you these words."
He held his goblet up, holding it out to you in a toast. "It is over. For now."
"Thou played a part in weaving the fabric of fate itself. But for every thread you sewed, so did the gods unravel another."
You looked up at him, thoughtfully. The thought of gods and fate made you wonder what could have been, what might have been different if you had taken different action. Withers continued, and you felt as though he could hear your every thought, and was offering some sort of hope.
"Sleep, rest, revel. But be ready. For thou mayest yet be needed. Until we meet again, I wish thee every possible fortune. Health, wealth, love, but above all, problems worth solving."
He looked to you, and you could tell he expected you to say something. You looked out over all of your friends, and the ones you had lost, and raised your wine.
"To the greatest friends I could dream of."
The simple words were met with cheers and agreement, and you felt a smile cross your face. Here you were, in the presence of friends, loved ones, the promise of lifelong comrades.
You could drink to that.
You awoke from your sleep/trance, every part of your body tense. Had you dreamed of noises outside your tent, or were you just hearing things?
Astarion shifted beside you. You could tell that he hadn't been asleep, but on most nights he enjoyed holding you close to him anyway, with the exception of those moments that he needed some space. He looked up at you as you sat up, and tilted his head slightly.
"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, sitting up as well. "What is it?"
"I... heard something."
He opened his mouth to respond, to say he hadn't heard anything, when the sound came again. An unholy shrieking sound that you'd recognize anywhere. Feminine laughter, cold and cruel, and the roaring of flames no mortal could ignite in this plane. Mizora.
Both you and Astarion grabbed for your weapons, and when you looked at him you saw that your spawn lover's face was split into a wide smile, and he grinned at you before he rushed outside. You could hear the others waking up and the clamor as they retrieved they also instinctively readied themselves for danger.
Astarion laughed and clutched his knives in his hands. "I guess we always do seem to attract trouble, don't we dear? Ah, I suppose peace was too much to hope for."
You shook your head ruefully in agreement and hurried outside, him following close behind then shimmering out of view as the invisibility spell took hold.
He was right, you thought, smiling as the familiar feel of adrenaline and instinct pumped through you, and you readied yourself once more to battle beside your friends. Some things don't ever change.
#x reader#fluff#main character death#angst#bg3#astarion#tried gender neutral let me know if I messed it up
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SasuSaku: Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 13
MATURE/POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT WARNING!
"Daddy, please!" Haruka begged Kizashi Haruno with her big blue eyes watering dramatically.
Sakura watched from the bed, unable to escape the room in her exhausted state. Her sister, who'd been wholly and completely against marrying the prince, was now enamored by him and desperate to take Sakura's place at his side.
'She thinks there's no danger since I'm not dead yet,' the pinkette mused while avoiding her younger brother's unyielding stare.
Kizashi sighed, turning his gaze onto his eldest offspring and lowering his voice so no one in the hallway would be able to eavesdrop, "Tell the prince you'd like to break off the engagement so your sister can have him."
For the first time in a long time, anger boiled in Sakura's chest. She sputtered, "What?!"
"Has living with the prince dulled your mind, Trash? Daddy said it, so you have to listen, or else!" Haruka bit, crossing her arms stubbornly.
Hihara continued to stare at his older sister, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, "Does he know of your illegitimacy?"
Sakura closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from trembling in fear, "Thank you for visiting me, but I'd like to be alone now."
"Who do you think you are!" Haruka shrieked, stomping toward the bed.
Kizashi shushed her, "Quiet!" He looked down at the pinkette in poorly masked disgust but surprised her by nodding toward the door, "Let's allow her to rest. Perhaps Sakura will have a clearer head in the morning."
Both of Sakura's siblings hesitated to leave, though they eventually obeyed their father's orders. Once alone, Sakura stumbled out of bed to take a bath, shooing Konan and telling her she'd like to be alone for the evening. When she was done, she stared at her reflection with a frown. Her pale skin was even more devoid of color than usual. On the side of her neck and on her ribcage lay fresh scars from her most recent injuries, but they were healed.
'I'm lucky to be alive. Those healing potions must've been potent.' If the Uchihas knew of her relationship with her family, she'd likely be dead now because they never would've wasted such precious supplies on her.
Sakura pulled on a comfortable nightgown and trudged back out into the bedroom to crawl under the freshly changed covers. 'I'm still so tired.... I suppose almost bleeding out really takes a toll on somoeone.'
As she lay on her side and waited for sleep to come, she stared at the empty side of the bed and wondered when Akuma would come. It was well past sunset, and the others had left, so it was only a matter of time before he'd show up and half-heartedly mock her weak disposition.
A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she lost consciousness. Her dying wish had come true. She'd gotten to see Sasuke again.
Since Sakura had grown accustomed to Akuma's nocturnal behavior, she stirred when the door to her bedroom opened and closed in the middle of the night. Her eyes crept open to see a male figure approaching, and she waited for him to say something. When a familiar voice, though hushed, met her ears, the woman's eyes widened, and the sleep left her system instantly, "You've changed."
"Brother...." She breathed, sitting up as he approached and sat on the edge of the bed, dark green eyes studying her carefully.
He frowned, "Don't call me that."
'I forgot. He sees me as too disgusting to be a part of his family,' she lowered her head submissively, an apology soft on her lips because she was in no condition to argue.
"You look different," Hihara said, reaching to finger a long strand of her hair. His voice became quieter, "You smell different, too."
Sakura's lips formed a thin line as she tried not to cry, 'I'm sure he's angry that I've been eating and living well with the prince. I was ordered to be killed, after all. He's probably here to punish me.' She was ready to be beaten like she always was back at home. She survived then, and she'd survive it again. So, she waited for it to happen.
It didn't.
"The prince seems to care for you," Hihara mused, eyes lifting from her hair to her face and hardening, "What did you do to make him fall for you?"
"W-We're not-!" Sakura tried to explain the agreement between her and Sasuke but closed her mouth quickly when she realized she couldn't tell the prince's secret.
As she thought about the man, her mood soured more than it already had because she came to a realization, 'He only tried so hard to save me because of our plans. He doesn't care enough about me yet. We agreed to wait until after the wedding to seriously try and break the curse.' Tears welled in her eyes as she gave up explaining, 'After that, I'll be killed and he'll move on with his life. Will he remember me when I'm gone? Will he ever think about a sad excuse for a sacrifice like me or will he forget everything once Akuma's back in purgatory?'
Sakura was plucked from her thoughts by Hihara, who suddenly pressed his lips to hers. A surprised sound became muffled between them as she shoved at his chest until he pulled back. Breathing heavily, the pinkette brought a hand to her lips, "What are you doing!"
A chill ran down her spine when a dark emotion flooded her brother's irises.
He began to wrestle her down to the bed, easily overpowering her weak attempts to escape, "Show me how you charmed the prince, Trash."
Sakura had no clue what the redheaded man was trying to do, but she sobbed and begged him to let her go as he unclothed her and himself. When she felt something touch between her legs, a primal sort of terror took over, and she tried to scream for help. Hihara's hand slapped over her mouth, cutting off the sound before it could reach the air. Shaking tremendously, she tried to fight his hands as he balled up her underwear and stuffed it into her mouth so he wouldn't have to keep his palm there.
Tears flooded her vision as he roughly touched her body wherever he pleased, making the image distorted and warped in a traumatizing way. Moments later, a mind-boggling pain ripped through the woman's core, her distressed cries unable to reach even the hallway outside.
"Oh, you were still a virgin," Hihara seemed genuinely surprised as he looked between their bodies, where something was pushing into her that she couldn't see through her tears and hysteria. He chuckled moments later, dark green eyes alight with amusement, "That prince won't want you now that you're all used up. He'll call you disgusting. No one wants to marry a whore."
'A whore...? What does that even mean? What is he doing to me? It hurts!'
The night was long and painful. Hihara didn't leave Sakura's room until it was almost sunrise. He thoroughly warned her to clean herself up and not to tell anyone what'd happened because it'd ruin both the Haruno and Uchiha names if word got out that siblings had slept together and the prince was engaged to someone involved. He explained all about sex and what a whore was, so by the time the sun rose, Sakura was barely a shell of who she was the day before.
As she frantically scrubbed the bloodied sheets in the bathtub, tears fell silently into the red bath water. 'I understand all of the things Akuma said to me about making me his, now.' Her chest tightened as she deemed the cleaning finished and began ringing the water out of it, 'But Hihara stole me away. He made me his with no regard for anyone else.'
She tossed the bedding into the hamper near the door before emptying the tub and refilling it with clean water to clean herself this time, 'He ruined everything. I can't even help Sasuke now because if he finds out what happened, he'll be too disgusted to ever care for me, and I know I can't lie to him when the time comes because there will be no blood.'
Konan arrived near the end of the bath, making no comment about the soft pink tint of the water from the dried blood that'd been on Sakura's body. She wordlessly helped her get dressed. When Sakura exited the bathroom, the bedding had been replaced with fresh sheets and blankets. The pinkette glanced at her maid, 'Does she know what happened? Will she tell anyone?'
"Would you like to have breakfast in bed today or do you feel well enough to join everyone in the dining hall?" The serious woman asked, betraying no emotion with her orange eyes.
Tears stung Sakura's eyes as she shook her head, inching toward the door, "I-I'm not hungry." The woman nodded, bowing before heading toward the door. "Oh, um," Sakura stopped her. When the maid looked her way again, she averted her gaze, "I don't want any visitors today, okay?"
"...No one?" Konan asked, obviously wanting to clarify if she meant even the royal family.
"No one."
Sakura slept for a very long time, waking up sporadically because of the pain between her legs. A few maids checked on her, trying to offer food or tea, only to be turned away. Two entire days passed that she'd secluded herself in her room before her wishes to be left alone were finally denied. The king entered the room, the one person she could not turn away regardless of reason.
The man sat at the tea table, gesturing for her to join him. Left with no other choice, the pinkette obeyed, gingerly sipping the hot tea placed before her. He studied her carefully, dark eyes calculating. She could feel his gaze on her as she avoided it, feeling sick to her stomach with self-disgust and fear that Hihara would reappear and hurt her again.
"If something is bothering you, Niece, please tell your uncle about it," the man offered a friendly smile when Sakura dared glance up, "Are you scared of being kidnapped again?"
She absently shook her head in denial, returning her gaze downward, "I'm simply feeling unwell, Your Highness. Please forgive me."
'I want to be alone. I don't want anyone to look at me. I feel like everyone can tell how gross I am.'
"...Did something terrible happen to you?" Madara asked after a very long moment of silence. This time, his voice was quiet.
This time, Sakura couldn't bring herself to respond; she simply remained quiet and still, too afraid and unsure to do anything.
"Lady Sakura-" "N-Nothing happened. I'm fine," she quickly interrupted the king because she realized he'd probably have her beheaded for tricking their family into believing she was pure.
Another long silence occurred before the man sighed, "Very well. If you insist, then I can no longer keep my nephew at bay. As your fiance, he has a right to verify your well-being with his own eyes."
Soon after the king left, Sasuke arrived. Sakura was in bed again and kept her back turned to him because she wasn't yet ready to look him in the eye, not after everything he'd done for her. He sat in a chair at her bedside, not saying anything for so long that she was tempted to turn and verify he was still there.
Eventually, he spoke, "Lady Sakura, I'm sorry. You were put in such a dangerous situation. You must hate me for it."
Sakura's throat tightened as she tried not to burst into sobs. She wanted to speak but knew she couldn't lest he realize her state of mind and demand answers. So, she mentally responded to him, hoping somehow he'd understand with just that, 'The only person to blame here is me, for being foolish enough to think that someone like me could be of use to someone like you.'
As she thought that, she recalled her sister and father's words the other day when she'd first woken up. The woman squeezed her eyes closed, a few tears managing to overflow to drip onto the pillow. 'I'll have to end the engagement and pray he's able to find someone else to break the curse. Haruka will never do it because she cares too much about herself and too little for others.' Sakura changed her mind as she continued reeling, 'But if I end the engagement, she's the next candidate. She'll never choose to disappear, so she'll return home, and she'll definitely tell everyone about the prince's curse.'
This time, the woman couldn't stop herself from crying, and her shoulders shook as she shrank further under the covers and hoped Sasuke wouldn't pry, 'She'll get him killed if she tells the wrong crowd of people. They'll hunt him as though he's a monster. I can't let that happen.'
"I'll leave so you can rest," Sasuke spoke softly, obviously misunderstanding her tears, "Please accept your meals from now on. As soon as you're well enough, we can return to the Winterlands."
Then, the prince was gone.
#naruto#naruto fanfiction#narutofanfic#narutofanfiction#sakura#sakura uchiha#haruno sakura#sakura haruno#naruto shippuden#uchiha sasuke#sasuke#sasusaku#sasusaku fic#sasusaku fanfiction#sasuke x sakura
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Abby Anderson x reader enemies to lovers⁉️⁉️
this isn't specified so i'm just gonna go with headcanons! kinda short but sweet! this is also the first thing i've ever written for tlou, so thanks for requesting! i hope you enjoy!
gn!reader
enemies to lovers with abby anderson headcanons
gonna say that you're a seraphite. devout believer in the prophet and all that she stood for. you pride yourself on your faith and work hard for your community
you're a soldier shipped off of the island to fight the wolves. you wanted to be a soldier. not to kill the wolves, but to free them from their ideologies and— hopefully— bring them peace. you'd do that even if it meant their death
you met abby in the middle of a shootout between the wolves and your patrol. you were gravely outnumbered but you were talented enough with your bow to take out a few wolves to make it a fairer fight
abby noticed these talents and knew she had to take you out quickly. she couldn't have you picking off her friends without repercussions. so, she snuck up behind you and held you in a chokehold. your hands gripped onto the fabric of her shirt in a desperate attempt to get her to stop
luckily, you only passed out from lack of oxygen. the seraphites who'd survived the attack found you and took care of you until you woke up, and you knew you needed to free this wolf from their suffering, whoever they may be
you met abby a few more times, always trying to kill each other, until the two of you were alone, surrounded by infected. she'd been separated and most of the people you were with had been killed or turned into infected themselves. you were fortunate to escape
she only stared at you, brows furrowed. she didn't know what it was about you. maybe it was the softness of your eyes. the gentle glow the light from the torch cast upon you. she shook herself out of the trance. you killed her friends. she couldn't be thinking about you like this
the two of you teamed up to survive, saving each other numerous times as you ran away from the infected into an abandoned building. both of you knew that soon enough, they would lose interest and wander away
that moment couldn't come soon enough. you swore you could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room you were in. you didn't say a word to each other, but you could feel her eyes glued on you the entire time
abby hadn't ever spent this much time with a seraphite before. she'd only ever been killing them. she justified it because they killed wolves all the time, so she never felt any regret by doing what she did. though, somehow she couldn't picture herself trying to kill you anymore
she noticed the deep scars on your cheeks. why did you have to be a seraphite? she wished you were a wolf. someone she could be friends with. someone she could admire the way she wanted to without feeling angry at herself for it
finally, your eyes met hers, and she looked away
you saved her life multiple times. abby knew she was strong, capable enough to protect herself, but knowing you were there watching her back was nice. it was a good change from trying to kill each other
the two of you met more times after you parted ways. always coincidental. sometimes, you pretended she wasn't there. you couldn't be looking at a wolf the way that you were
you'd be expelled from your culture and your community. rejected by those you loved back at home and exiled into a life of suffering if you looked at her any longer than you had to
though, you always let her life. always let her walk by without saying a word. you never mentioned her to other seraphites when you returned to the island. and you never would
finally, abby had enough of it. she had to get to know you. she began struggling to kill seraphites, always picturing your face whenever she choked them. you showed kindness to her. pretending you didn't see her when she knew you did
she came up behind you just as she did the first time you met, her hand over your mouth
"don't scream."
you only nodded. you turned around to face her, and this was the first time you'd really gotten to see her close like this. the light was bright on her face and her eyes were undeniably beautiful. she somehow managed a smile as she looked at you
she ensuing conversation was awkward, but you managed to make it work. you realized that your hatred for her was staring to go away, even though it had been for longer than you'd like to admit
you ended up meeting up on purpose. leaving her notes where you knew she would see it. finding placed littered across the qz that you could call your own. free from wolves. free from seraphites
it was only the two of you
as the sun rose after a night of laughing and talking, her eyes met yours. and she leaned in, her lips pressing against yours
you froze against her, your eyes wide. she pulled away immediately, thinking that she'd done something wrong. you felt the urge to run away. to go back home and beg your prophet for forgiveness, but the only thing you did was grab onto her hand and pull her close
you were inexperienced in everything romance. you didn't know anything about love except for what the elders and your peers told you back on the island, but as abby looked at you, you didn't care anymore
your relationship was difficult to maintain given your differences, but you made it work. she would sneak out of the stadium to meet you and sometimes you would sneak in to see her. she nagged you about getting yourself into danger whenever you did but you just shrugged her off
looking back on your history as enemies, it made you embarrassed. you knew why you acted the way you did. it was the only thing you ever knew and what you thought was right, but you couldn't help your feelings
abby eventually introduced you to her friends. it took a lot of time for them to accept you and get used to you, but they kept her secret for her happiness. they ended up really liking you, which made their views on the seraphites change in some ways
you always wondered whether things would change between your people and the wolves, and as you held onto abby's shoulders, you knew it was possible
#tlou#tlou x reader#the last of us#the last of us x reader#tlou2#tlou2 x reader#the last of us 2#the last of us 2 x reader#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader
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Glass butterflies
Jean x reader
now playing: mr/mme
It was a beautiful torture to raise your daughter alone. It was lovely and heartbreaking to see you in her every day, hear you in her voice and know all the that she wasn't you. That she was her own person, separate from you, and that he would never find another person like you if he searched for every eternity after death. For so long after you'd died, he'd held your child close to his chest, tears falling down his cheeks as she slept so serenely in his arms. She was all he had left, all he could live for now you were gone. So he watched her grow, watched her learn and live and love all the while unknowingly bearing the mantle of a woman she had never known;
bearing the memory of the woman she'd never called mother.
Through the years, Jean sealed you into a case of glass, away from the world that had stolen you from him, all the while asking why. Why had you been taken from him? Why had you survived all that you had, lived through walls rising and falling around you, only to die giving life to the one person you'd wanted to love more than anyone? Even on your death bed you were smiling, pressing kisses to your daughter's soft skin, knowing you'd never get to see her become someone. Why. he'd wonder, were you gone while he was allowed to stay? If anyone deserved to live it was you. You, who had been ready to give your last breath for your baby, ready and willing to lose everything to give her a chance.
He wondered these things as the walls around you grew higher, you faithful admirer keeping steady watch over the memory of you, every moment preserved so carefully as butterflies in amber; he kept you safe from the world, regret filling him as he remembered how he wasn't able to save you in the end. When it mattered most, when your hands were in between his own and your breaths growing labored and weak, when he held your daughter in one hand on you in the the other, he could do nothing. He was useless as he watched your eyes close for the last time, whispering I love yous to your skin like a prayer as your life passed before his very eyes. There was nothing to be done, no fight to be won, and yet your husband had raged against your fate, begging whatever cruel god watched not to take you. He'd watched so many people die, watched mothers mourn their children and those same children weep over the graves of their mothers. He'd hear Eren tell his tale, heard the way he'd watched his mother die and felt powerless. He'd thought he'd understood. But then, seeing you slip away between his fingers like running water, he knew what it was to be powerless. To want something, someone, so damn much it hurt, and yet have no power to keep them.
So he protected what he could, kept what was left of you safe in his heart, built his walls of glass around you as time passed with it's cruel unyielding march. Why doesn't it stop, he wanted to scream. Why won't you stop, pause, to recognize this loss? Time never stopped for a woman lost, just another body in the ground. The sun didn't stop burning for a mother dead, dying with the hope that her child would live. You had no anger, no resentment, not in your last breath. You were not bitter as death bore down on you, instead more sad as you took in the family you were leaving behind. Your eyes were full of apologies, to your husband, your daughter, that you had to leave them behind. That you had to go where they could not go. You ere not angry, but sad that you wouldn't get to grow old with Jean at your side; that you wouldn't get to know just who your daughter became.
It had only been seven years since you'd been gone, but it felt like a lifetime in and of itself. With glass butterflies hanging still in the minds of all who'd known you, the clocks had marked each second, each moment you weren't a part of. You were so far, so close, too little and too much, the way your spirit would slip away only to return with the fury of any hurricane until Jean swore he could feel you fighting to stay. He felt your hands, still cradling his heart, the way they had for so long. The pieces of you formed mosaics of reminiscing, like films to be plucked from a shelf. Through it all, your daughter absorbed every story, every memory passed from someone's lips, holding it away from the world like her own collection of secrets stars. Everything she learned she pressed into the caverns of her mind, until she was forming the image of you, piecing it together slowly. Too slowly. She felt your absence, despite never knowing who you were. She felt the space you'd left in her life, and wanted to know it all.
The day she asked sent the glass walls tumbling, gave the butterflies a chance to fly the way they were meant to. The night she asked her papa;
"Can you tell me about my mama?"
/
Her question sent the glass shattering, her eyes wide and innocent, curious and so full of hope it made him ache;
Those were your eyes.
He sighed, lifting her into his arms and placing her gently on the edge of her bed. His eyes were low and dark, mind racing as he scrambled to think of something to say. How would he even begin to describe what he had been? What the two of them had lost in loosing you? Somewhere he remembered what you had said to him that day, when he had been reeling and grasping at straws for some kind of hope. For someone to tell him it would be alright, that you would be alright.
But it hadn't been.
It hurt that the only way she would ever know you was through the stories he could tell; that she would never really know the extent of who you had been, how you'd lived with the burning intensity of a star who knew how fleeting her time was.
Jean knew he could never begin to encompass you in his words; but he knew he needed to try.
If only so you wouldn't be a stranger to your child.
"Where do I start," he laughed, closing his eyes to conjure you behind them. "Your mother was the most brilliant woman I ever knew. She was brave and clever as a fox, sharp and witty with a mind so fine it must have been crafted by a god. She loved winter mornings, how quiet they were, and the feeling of summer rain on her face. She liked to walk barefoot through the trees, to hear the birds sing when the ground was still wet from dew."
"Am I like her?"
The question was soft and uncertain, like she didn't want the answer. She was afraid that she had nothing that could keep you with her. That she had lost you forever, truly, that there was nothing she could hold or see that proved you weren't gone. Jean cradled her face with a hand, smiling gently down at her.
"You have her eyes. Every day I've been blessed by seeing her in your eyes, in your smile. That was hers, too. You think like her. Too quick for yourself, for anyone else. You think like an artist, like she did. You look at the stars and reach to touch them all, like she did. You would've found a way to find the very root of it all, then watch it grow and sprout into something incredible."
By now, he could see the tears brewing in her bright eyes, and held her close as he continued.
"She was so full of love, your mother. For you, for me, and it was stronger than anything you've ever seen. She was loyal to the end, a fighter who protected the ones she held dear with everything; she protected you with everything she had, and loved you so powerfully all the while."
"You both hate me, don't you? Because I'm the reason she's not here?"
That question knocked the air from his lungs entirely. It felt like someone had taken his heart and torn it from his chest anew, like there was a gaping hole he could never fill. With one question, your daughter had ripped him apart once more. By now, he could feel his own tears slipping from his eyes, your daughter refusing to meet them.
"How could we hate you, my love? Your mother died hoping she could have even a chance to love you the way she wanted too. She wanted so badly to know you that she gave up everything so you could live. Do you know what she was told, that day in the hospital? Her doctors told her if she continued with the birth, her body would loose too much blood to recvoer. She was told that in order for her to live, you would have to die. And do you know what she said? She said 'save my daughter. I don't care what you have to do, but keep her alive.' As she was dying she was apologizing to you, telling you how sorry she was that she had to go. How much she wanted to be with you, to hold your hands as you grew and found a place in the world. She loved you with everything in her, with every bone in her body. And so do I. I promised her I would love you enough for both of us. Your mama loved you so much."
Looking down at her, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, eyes still watery as she saved these new stories, fresh among hundreds, with her constellations of dying stars.
"She was never angry at you, love. Never. She fought hard just so you could carry on, so you could know how beautiful this life can be. And I'm not without her, either. She's still here, in the sunsets she loved to watch with me, the way the wind laughs through the trees. She's alive in the song of waves, in the colors bleeding into one another as the sun wakes the day. I see her there.
And I see her in you."
/
Jean didn't think he'd ever be ready to talk about you. He didn't think he'd ever feel like he could say your name without feeling that immense sorrow sweep through him, restless and turbulent waves of emotion that battered him. But he knew it was up to him to be sure you didn't disappear from your daughter's world. That you weren't forgotten.
Slipping into his own bedroom and sliding the door closed behind him, he felt something rip apart inside him. Something broke, snapped, something so painful and real that he fell to his knees in the darkness, the glass butterflies of his past swarming in his mind. He was filled with a million stories, a million moments he ached to relive.
The day he'd first kissed you, a dawn sky spread out before you as his hands pulled you close.
The afternoon sun that had shone so brightly when you'd married, clouds dancing high above in a sky of liquid sapphire.
The dusky scent of twilight on your skin as he lay with you in your bed, his hand on your stomach as you dreamed of a family together.
The night that had bloomed cold on your skin when you died, your infant daughter in your arms as your skin grew pale.
He remembered the way your eyes had looked, so soft and so mournful, the way everyone had cleared from the room to leave you together. The way not even a doctor stayed behind to help you; you all knew it was too late. He remembered too well your hands squeezing his as you felt yourself ebbing away.
"I'm scared," you had whispered then, eyes wide as you tried to deny what was happening "I don't want to die.
I don't want to go."
He remembered the way he'd held you close at your request, after you'd told him you didn't want to feel alone when you went. He remembered he told you it was alright, that you'd done enough, that you could rest. He had told you it was okay to let go, that it was his turn to be strong.
He remembered far too well how it had hurt to feel your last breath leave you, how he'd wept as he held your daughter close, the doctor covering your body in white that night.
So many nights he'd passed, covering paper with your likeness, sketching your eyes out in ink so he'd never forget. He remembered how his walls had been covered in remnants of you for weeks after, how coming home that night felt like opening a wound all over again.
Your perfume on the shelf.
You scent in the sheets.
Your wedding ring in the palm of his hand as your daughter had slumbered in his arms.
It all felt so real, even seven years later. It felt fresh and bloody, a wide gash carved through his life by the cruel blade of fate
He was left to wonder what you would say, what you would do, left to lie alone in the bed that had once been shared, and pretend he could be okay with you gone. But giving up wasn't an option. He would pretend until it was no longer an act, until your name in his mouth didn't sting like the bite of a bitter wind. Until he could think of you with the same joy, the same love, that you had offered him. He had too. He owed it all to you.
His daughter, who he lived for.
For teaching him to love, and how to loose.
He owed a lifetime of love to you, and paid with his heart, paid for every lesson in loving you'd ever taught him with a single glance, a gentle word, for every kiss on the lips of a woman living as bright as a dying star.
Thank you, y/n, for teaching me how to live.
He had released the glass butterflies from their prisons, finally let the glass walls break. That night, Jean freed you from your cage of stiff remembrance, and chose instead to let your memory breathe.
Thank you for every moment.
#jean x reader#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein angst#jean angst#jean x reader angst#aot x reader#aot x reader angst#snk x reader#snk x reader angst
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Made some pokemon teams for my Sona!
And some silly little PLA self insert AU
In this timeline she washes up in Hisui, displaced from her homeworld with damaged memories (like our local train man)
She wanders the wilds of Hisui for years, finding a lost Zorua and raising it, able to gain it's trust from treating it's injuries and lacking the appearance or scent of humans to fuel it's mallice.
She eventually stops wearing her shirt, tying it around her waist for safekeeping, instead replacing her torsowear with flaxwoven tops for modesty as her kind can easily live in the extreme Hisuian climates. It's also relatively easy for her to replace if it gets damaged unlike the modern Starvixi clothing she wore upon arrival.
(Outfit for her early wandering days in Hisui)
After a while she build a seacraft and sailed to what would become the survival area in modern times, the reasoning for this was a peculiar sight was an ultra wormhole, which sparked some of her lost memories if only for a moment.
Traveling to the isle she encountered a young Adaman, both shocked by eachothers alien (to eachother) appearance, awkwardly distanced themselves.
But after a while both were able to understand that they had the same goal of reaching the site of the wormhole, and slowly began to help eachother.
Lila's Starvixi instincts began to kick in, subconsciously decoding and deciphering Adaman's ancient hisuian dialect, beginning to respond with small sentences until eventually understanding Adaman fully.
Both eventually reached the sandy crags where a foreign, brass-gold pokemon stood.
Vague memories of the pokemon uncoupled themselves in the mind of my sona's mind, recalling the name "Clockweryk".
The pair confront it, Adaman's Eevee got a bite off on it before the mechanical pokemon knocks it out with a single flash cannon.
Lila on the other hand took it on unarmed, as her Zoroark was watching their boat.
The pokemon was subdued but the Starvixi battler on the other hand was injured.
The wild machine pokemon, honored by the battle, and calmed by the presence of a being of it's world, used it's abilities to accelerate the Starvix's healing.
Adaman shocked by the pokemon's altering of time, and it's sudden change in attitude saw this as a sign from Almighty Sinnoh, returning home after making sure the alien woman was alright.
Over the course of the next few months my sona mader her home on the island, watching the pokemon from her home.
After a year or so, Adaman began visiting, forming a secret friendship with this alien being, eventually becoming Leader of the Clan and extending a request to join the Diamond Clan.
My sona would accept due to the loneliness of her time alone on the island, and as such was presented the typical Diamond Clan wear.
Although this ceremony was held on the island with a few important members at the time due to her foreign appearance.
She doesn't have much knowledge of the going ons in Hisui aside from the occasional mention from Adaman or other visitors to the Isle.
At the end of PLA's story, her island would become a new point of interest, a request from Adaman to check on a settlement there called 'Frontier'.
The player would then be greeted by a small drama between Diamond clan settlers and Pearl clan settlers.
You'd meet with some who'd direct you to a pearl clan member who'd introduce you to a 'rough terrain' based mount which'd allow you to traverse some of the rough terrain of the zone.
Eventually you'd meet up to my sona, cloaked, who'd the do something badass like punch a wild pokemon that snuck up on the PC.
You'd get a battle, then some exposition dialouge from her similarly to Ingo in wayward cave, and even at the end of it chose between "Oh like Warden Ingo?" Or "So kinda like me?".
She'd direct you towards the crags where you'd have to have a 'noble battle' against Clockweryk.
You'd then be able to battle her at dojo in Jubilife, and witness a cutscene of her meeting Ingo, recalling something family about his phraes and outwear. (My sona's mother was a conductor)
That's roughly what I got for PLA.
In Sinnoh she's a dark type gym leader, who ran the Pastoria gym before Crasher Wake took her place and she explored elsewhere.
Also srry for the longass random self centered post lol.
#lilacstarvix#pla au#self insert#pokemon#sona lore#my art and others art#my art#others art#hisuian zoroark#would tag characters but don't wanna clog it with my self insert au bs lol
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4 o'clock • Johnny Suh(m)
warnings : mentions of depression, suicide, self harm, smut.
summary : Johnny's saved you quite a few times, with that smile of his, with that goofy laugh of his, he's your sitting mate, he's your note collector, he's your friend, he's the fashion major who's gotten your lousy dark outfits together for stupid parties, he's your saviour, Johnny saves you-truly in every meaning-because one night, he saves your life too.
You seep into your bed, your body felt like it had the weight of a bag of bricks, you were anchored to your sheets, sweat glossing over your body. Why did depression had to be like this? Will you ever be happy? You were so tired of this feeling, this never ending cycle where you'd always end up being unhappy. Maybe tonight's the night, you decide, tonight's the night you'd stop being this damn sad. You had that dream again, where you're afloat, all alone and you're trying to drown but you don't run out of breath. Dreams have a weird way of terrorizing one's peace of mind. You felt unlovable in your skin, fingers grazing up against the half healed slits on your wrists from so many times before,you've been in this situation so many times before.
Did you really have to recollect the horrendous mistakes you made in middle school? Couldn't you forgive yourself? Did you really have to read all of the things you were told online? It's been years. You're an adult hung up on something that has passed so long ago. Bullying- is a really heavy word-one of your friends said to you once, this is how kids behave she'd told you. So it looked more reasonable to blame yourself instead. It was your fault you were hurt, it was a voice in your head who'd hurt you, not anyone else's. The problem is rooted from you, so you conclude that it's best if you remove it.
A noise that goes unregistered by you hauls you out of your ruminations. Your phone rings, vibrating on the bedside table, you feel like your head's underwater, the buzzing of your phone pushing you to grab onto it, the orange glow of the screen reading, Johnny. You smile at the name, you love him, from the first day he'd cracked some lame joke, from the day you'd seen his eyes light up when he'd talk about 50's fashion, Johnny's saved you quite a few times, be it from angry professors or loud parties, he was your drunken nights' caretaker, your savior and perhaps, your only friend, the person who'd make you genuinely happy, with him, you could forget that you were suffering from an eon long depression. With him, you could believe in love. You wished to tell him how much you liked him but unfortunately, he'd never know. He'd never hear your voice after this call.
You pick up the phone, "Hey, how's my favorite dwarf?" He breathes, you can hear him smile, you think about all the nights you'd spent together in your apartment, with rented movies and stolen hawaiian pizza from the job you'd taken at a pizza parlor because it was his favorite, you'd remembered how Johnny designed you a beautiful shirt on your birthday. You thought about how much you're going to miss Johnny, and how much he's going to miss you. It's not fair-taking away his friend like that- you can picture him finding out you've killed yourself, shocked at the paleness of you, wondering what he missed-how he could've saved you. It isn't fair to him, you think, but then again, nothing is ever fair. You were a burden to him, taking up his love, his time, and you needed to go. You bite your lip to mask the sound of you crying as tears well up in your eyes, your vision blurring.
"y/n?" He calls, his voice coated with genuine concern, you choke out uncontrollably, and by now, Johnny can tell you're crying. "hey, what's wrong? What is it? Where are you? I'm coming over with your favorite chocolate chip cookies, that's why I called, tell me when I get there if you don't want to now, what's wrong? What happened?" He bombards you with questions, "Goodbye, Johnny, I-I love you." You croak, hearing him shuffle with car keys.
You had to be fast, you think, so you hang up before the honey sweet tone of Johnny Suh's voice makes you retreat from your pursuit.
It'll take Johnny a solid 15 minutes to get your place, so you take your sweet time. Bleeding to death is a bit too messy, you think, ideas filling up your heavy head when you watch your bathtub. You put on a black dress, color your lips a rosy red, as you fill your bathtub up, put on Perry Como's 'Killing Me Softly', you dance to yourself, eyes shut close as tears kiss your face, you watch the blue sky getting splattered on with dark ink of black black clouds-goodbye, world, you think.
Strumming my pain with her fingers, singing my life with her words.
Your toes curl at the coolness of the icy water of the bathtub, as you unlocked the door to your apartment, making sure Johnny has no trouble in finding you in your lifeless body, you lay down, slightly afloat, like you were in your dream and you try to drown just like, how you did in your dream, pressing your body to the bottom of the tub, you hear a faint call of your name, the loud sound of a door being pushed open, you're drowning, just like you dreamt except now, you really do lose breath, your vision blurs,
Killing me softly with her song, killing me softly with her song.
It happens so fast, you have a flash of what being a child was like, the faint memory of your mother's soft smile, I'm sorry, mom, for breaking your heart, you think, the voices in your head dying out with you.
.....
Your eyes shoot open and you cough out a fistful of water, your wet body plastered to the bathroom floor. Johnny's looking down at you, with his eyes reddened, he sighs, his arched cupid's bow resigning into an expressionless purse. He pushes himself away from your body, his back pressed up against one of the bathroom walls. You turn your head to him, words disappearing at the back of your throat, guilt rushing over, as you look at Johnny, his soft brown glistening, the happiness in them seized as he looks back at you.
"I thought you died," he croaks, and you sob, you sob and sob, your heart out, Johnny picks you up, and cradles you to his chest.
You hold him close, you're alive, you feel alive, he makes you want to be alive, with the rapid beat of his heart, a heart that's wrapped around yours. You're both pouring each other's emotions into one another, you feel the ache in your body dying away. "I love you." He says, kissing your forehead, you're not sure how he means it, but you don't question it. He's always been your savior. He's always saved you and tonight, he's saved your life.
........
Johnny looks over to you in the passenger seat, you're in one of his shirts that he'd left when he was going over to your place for a movie night.
He'd decided that he couldn't trust you with yourself, and brought you out, bought you your favorite dark chocolate frappe, and frozen yogurt. He plays Daniel Caesar's 'Get You', as he taps the steering wheel, humming to himself.
He's driving you to his place in silence, the apartment a foreign one as you've never been there before. "Johnny," he hums, his eyes widening at the one thing you've said since after he's found you.
"Sing to me." You say, placing your palms against his thigh, Johnny watches you smile at him, and he feels like his heart might beat out of his ribcage, he's really the reason behind your smile, he can hardly believe it. "I will,when we get home, sweetheart." You melt into the seat, with the nickname on his tongue dissolving like butter on a hot pan, he mirrors you, grinning so wide that he fears his face might hurt.
....
Johnny's apartment is arranged, a little too arranged and prim- perfect in monochrome colors, except that wall of his where he's painted a picture of a drying river, there's the smell of cologne and something sweet like almond in his apartment, Johnny still has Daniel Caesar's entire Freudian album booming through his speakers, you drink in the whole apartment, you've never seen this side of him, the most unfamiliar thing in his room being a grand piano, record labels of different bands, and Johnny's fashion magazines, a framed cloth on which he's designing a white dress,you assume for his class project or something.
A pleasing smell of delicious pasta wafts the air, Johnny hums along to the music as he cooks, you watch him sway his hips, holding a spatula up for a mic as you lean on to the doorway of his kitchen, you smile at him, snorting when he hits the imaginary notes with the beats of his feet. Johnny turns to you and grins, "I'm almost done." He says, urging you to go into the living room. That's where his table sits.
You're at the loss of appetite, feeling yourself full from the frappe, you never imagined the after blow of your survival would be so sweet, that Johnny reciprocate your love for him, you whine when he comes to the table with the meal.
He stabs the pretty looking penne with his fork, nearing you as if he were to feed you, "I'm not hungry. You eat." You giggle when he furrows his eyebrows together in false anger.
When he doesn't relent, you bite into the spoonful of pasta, sighing and melting into his cooking. "Delicious right?" He asks, beaming as he gets to feeding you and himself.
After dinner, Johnny reaches a hand out for you, "A dance?" You nod vehemently, your much smaller frame pressed into his enormous one as he rests his palm against the small of your back, your arms around his neck. You feel your heart beat and so does he.
Thank you for saving my life. The song plays in the background, you press your cheek to Johnny's chest, he shares your rapid heart beats, you wonder what would've happened if you really drowned, who would dance with you tonight? Who would take care of you? You're thankful as the tenderness of Johnny's body pressed to yours spread all over your body, you want to tell him that you can feel him in your rushing blood, your love for him coursing through your veins like adernaline, the scent of his rain and almond milk self paralyzes you to your core but Johnny speaks up first. "I owe you a song." He says, plopping down in front of his piano as you sit above your weight supported by your feet, he plays your favorite, La Vien En Rose, he sings, his fingers dancing over the keys of the piano deftly, you watch him, in his white shirt, his broad shoulders dancing along to the rhythm of his piece. You watch his rosy mouth move to the words he utters. He has a weird way of pacifying you, when he opens his mouth to utter a lyric, you get to your feet, hold Johnny's face in your hands and kiss him- he's stopped in his speech, half lyric
Your gut feels like a hundred butterflies have exploded in it when he kisses you back, he stands, much taller than you, his arms pulling you close to him as he grins at you, you back away a little when he leans in in reflex, "Let me kiss you properly,dummie," you giggle, and let Johnny cradle your face before he kisses you. His mouth tastes of cherry wine, his tongue licking into your mouth, drinking you whole. Your palms rest on his stomach as your feet back up and you end up clanking the piano keys with a clink.
Johnny holds you by your hips, sitting you atop of the instrument as he slots in between your legs, when you rattle with his belt, attempting to pull it off, he pulls away from you, catching his breath as his forehead presses up against yours. "We could do something else. Are you sure you're okay? Do you really want this?-"
You cut him off with a kiss, now that you've had a taste of having him, you can't stop till he's yours entirely. "Johnny, I want this. I want you." He groans at your response, grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around your waist as he carries you to his bedroom.
Johnny strips you, little by little, kissing your shoulder, your scars, his fingers consuming every bit of you, carving you newly like a precious clay piece. You reach over his collar and bring your mouth to his, Johnny takes this as a sign to take his shirt off, holding your ankles to his shoulders, "Fuck," he swears, when he slips into you. Your nails dig into his back as his name falls off of your lips like a mellifluous song. His thrusts are are soft, his hands all over you, as if he were scared to let go. You can feel him in your stomach, full to the brim. You feel him twitch, every bend of you intermingled in him. "You're so beautiful," he tells you in between moans, and for the first time, you really believe it.
In the narrow sliver of moonlight reaching his face, you can tell that Johnny's cheeks are tainted a cherry pink, he sighs out your name, your high chasing the pace of his thrusts, as you clench around him, you drive him to reach his climax.
Johnny slows down his pace, his bottom lip drawn into his mouth, when you whimper his name, he feels like that must be the end of it, but when he's met with the beautiful sight of your brows scrunched up in oversensitivity, he lets loose, pumping his cum into your core, "I love you," he says, only to hear you repeat it.
That's the night you go to bed with Johnny, sleep invading your body from the after effect of your late night activity.
That night you dream of drowning again, except you're learning to swim, and you dream of the drying river which was painted on Johnny's wall. You dream of Johnny, pulling the anchor out of your spine and hauling you out of bed.
When you're awake in the middle of the night, the dry feeling of being afraid is absent, Johnny, in his sleep, pulls you to him with one of his hands, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. Your back is pressed up against his front and you smile to yourself.
Johnny's saved you a million times and each time, you'd let him.
#johnny seo#johnny x reader#nct smut#nctsmut#nct127#nct u#nct angst#nct fluff#jaehyun x reader#johnny x you#neowritingsnet
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Reconciliation
Characters: Rowena, reader
Pairing: Rowena/reader
Summary: Following a painful separation, Rowena and reader have a heart to heart.
Editor: @oswinthestrange
You've done your best to avoid her, but as the excitement died down and everyone pretty much accepted the world was going to hell whether they screamed about it or kept their mouths shut, the two of you found yourselves alone in the kitchen.
Rummaging the cupboards in search for more liquor (the harder, the better. You were no drinker, but considering the world was going to end in a few hours, you figured might as well just go with the flow), you paid Rowena no mind. Drink, you reminded yourself, willing yourself to stay focused on you task. You're here for the drink.
You just needed to find it, and then you would forget. Forget that the world was ending. Forget that there was a madwoman on the loose. Forget that up until a few hours ago you were working with a psychopath who was partly to blame for this tension.
Forget her.
Until she, along with you, along with the rest of this universe, disappears forever.
"You might as well just say it," Rowena said as she put the kettle on, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
You gulped. There goes the idea to ignore her. "Say what?"
"Whatever it is you've been wanting to say." You turned to her, and she shot you a deadpan look, crossing her arms over her chest like a teacher who'd caught their student in a lie. "You've been staring at me for hours, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed."
Great.
You never were good at subtlety.
"There's nothing to say."
"Really? I think there's plenty."
"The world's ending and I'm looking for a drink," you said, shrugging.
Rowena narrowed her eyes. "You don't drink."
You did now. "Maybe I do. Maybe I always did." She was doing this now, of all times? "Since when do you care what I'm doing?"
"Don't do this," she said with a sigh.
"I'm not doing anything," you said, a tad more harshly than intended. "Sorry your boyfriend's not here anymore. I'd say good riddance, but I don't wanna hurt your feelings."
"Don't," she warned.
You ignored her. "Must've felt good to see him again, after all this time."
"That's enough, Mariana!" Rowena said sternly. "I won't let you talk to me like that."
"Why don't you just ignore me – again? You're good at that."
"You're acting like a child!" she accused.
"At least I'm not pretending nothing happened!" you shot back. Tears prickled at your eyes, rimming them red. Memories flashed in your mind, as fresh and bright as if they were new. You begging Rowena not to do it. Her assuring you everything will be fine. The look of adoration on her face as she observed him, while you stood aside in the shadows, ignored and forgotten. The walls you'd hidden behind. A loud, spine-chilling crack. Her limp body falling to the ground. Eyes, once full of light, staring at you with a lifeless gaze. "You've made your choice, Rowena."
"As have you," she said after a short break. "You knew what you were getting into. I'm a wicked witch, love. Never claimed to be otherwise. I'm not to blame for your unreasonable expectations."
Ouch.
"I never asked you to love me! I just wanted you to be my friend!" you snapped, tears spilling from your eyes. "I gave you a chance when everyone else thought you a lost cause. I left everything I had behind, just to be with you. I stood by you. Defended you. And how did you repay me? By trusting Satan over me! Fucking Satan, Rowena!"
She had the decency to look ashamed, shifting her gaze aside. The words stung, but you had to let them out. You had to let her know.
Your feelings for Rowena were no secret. At first you hid them, but with time it became harder to pretend as if nothing had changed between the two of you. So you stopped. There was no use acting like you thought of her as just a friend, when every single cell in your body burned with desire for her. Rowena noticed straight away, but said nothing. Her stance was clear. And so was yours.
Just as she had a strict no feelings attached policy, you felt entitled to nothing. All you wanted was to learn from her, to be at least half a witch she was. Being her friend was more than enough.
You'd known about her thirst for power from the very start. But to think she would trust Lucifer, of all people…
What hurt the most wasn't her trusting him.
It was her trusting him more than you.
"You know why I was there? I was going to blackmail Crowley to release you," you told her, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. "Instead I had to watch Lucifer kill you."
"Darling, I…" Rowena looked at you, features softening. "It was foolish of me to trust him. I know that now. If you'd stayed–"
"I couldn't," you cut in. "Every time you get hurt, I worry like crazy. And watching you die… I thought I'd lost you forever. I'd rather be away from you than go through that again."
As much as it pained you to leave her, you couldn't stay with her anymore. Bruises and cuts popping up on her body from time to time were bad enough, but watching her die… It was hell. You could take care of a few injuries. Death, on the other hand, was out of your jurisdiction. She'd survived Lucifer's attempt on her life, but who's to say she would be this lucky next time?
She hadn't even told you about the failsafe. When Lucifer snapped her neck, you thought that was it, that you would never see her again. Seeing her come back to life a few minutes afterwards, as you knelt beside her body and cried your eyes out, was a welcome surprise. But it was also the last straw.
Rowena walked over to you, placing her hands on your cheeks. You eased into her touch, heart jumping at the feel of her delicate skin on yours. You'd almost forgotten how gentle she could be, how soft and warm her hands were. The same hands that wielded power you could only dream of having were caressing you so tenderly that you felt as if you would melt any moment now.
You missed this; missed having her this close, missed touching her.
"If I were to promise that things would be different, would you consider coming back?" she asked, eyes staring deep into yours. If you didn't know her any better, you'd think she was begging. But there was no way; she was Rowena, a wicked witch, unapologetic to the core. She didn't beg. She claimed and ruined and destroyed, but she never begged. Not unless she needed something, or…
Or if there was more to her than met the eye.
And if there was one thing you were one hundred percent certain of, it was that Rowena MacLeod was a complicated creature. She had a soft side. She could be kind. She could be sweet.
Who's to say she hadn't cherished your friendship the same way you had?
"Does it matter?" you asked. "We'll all be dead in a few hours, anyway."
"That's a few hours less of solitude," Rowena said.
You leaned forwards, pressing your forehead to hers. "I'm scared," you admitted, everything you'd been holding back for months pouring out in the form of tears and sobs. Gone was the anger and disappointment. All you had left now was pain; pain of life soon to be lost, pain of taking so long to face her. If you'd given her another chance, you could have had a few more months with her. You could have had her with you, as a mentor, perhaps even as a good friend.
Instead, you were all alone.
And now, it was too late to change that.
You hadn't even had a full day to be with her.
"I know, darling," Rowena cooed in a manner that was more motherly and tender than ever before.
"I don't want to die," you wept. "I want to be with you. I'm sorry I left. I should've given you another chance."
"You were in the right to leave," she soothed, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. "I have betrayed your trust. I was foolish to think the devil would make good on his promises. You warned me not to trust him and I ignored you. If anyone should apologize, it's me."
"Forget it," you told her. She regretted her actions just as you had regretted yours. That was more than enough for you. "Just be here. Be my friend. That's all I want."
"Friend?" Rowena stepped back, looking you in the eyes as she raised a pointed eyebrow. "Darling, who said anything about friendship?"
She didn't give you time to process her words, whatever it is you'd mouthed to say forever cut off by the force of her lips connecting with yours. There was passion in that kiss that you'd never experienced before, hunger like no other. You found yourself as stiff as a statue, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but just stand there and let her do as she pleased.
Rowena was a fantastic kisser. She was an experienced lover, centuries your senior, and it showed. God, it showed! Not even in your wildest dreams had she kissed you like this. A mere fantasy could never be as good – as magical, as special – as the real thing.
"You… you kissed me," you whispered as your lips parted, gasping for breath.
"Aye," Rowena said. "Let's just say you aren't the only one who thought things through these past few months."
She… liked you? Rowena MacLeod, one of the most powerful witches alive, a force of nature, the love of your life, liked you? Liked you liked you?
If there was ever a time when you wanted to jump out of your skin, it was now.
"But what about Chuck?"
Rowena frowned. "What about him?"
"You and him seemed quite… chummy," you said a tad too bitterly than you'd intended. Being angry wasn't the only reason you avoided her. Watching the person you're in love with practically drool all over someone else – God, of all people – was far from easy. Lucifer was one thing, but the Man Himself? A common witch like you couldn't compete with that.
"That was just flattery, dear," Rowena said with a chuckle.
You let out a small sigh. So it wasn't adoration. Rather, she was kissing his ass in a way only she knew how.
"Are you jealous?" she asked, an amused smirk playing on her lips.
You blushed. "I didn't even know you were into girls."
"Oh, sweetie, I couldn't care less about what's down there," she said, motioning to your crotch. "The only thing that interests me is what's up here." She put a forefinger to your temple. "You're one intriguing lass."
"I-I'm assuming that's a good thing?" you stammered, uncertain.
"That's a great thing," Rowena said. "How about we find ourselves a room and make the best out of our few remaining hours?"
A wide grin spread across your face. Dying didn't seem quite as bad with her by your side.
Tags: @apritelleorai @darktweet @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @christinalibertymikaelson @violinmyhead @royalrowena @supwhorecorp @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack
Read on AO3.
#rowena x reader#rowena macleod#rowena#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#fanfics#fanfiction#fanfic#rowena macleod x reader#spn#supernatural#my fics#reconciliation
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Our First Christmas
Clare: wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him close. "Love you." She whispered. She felt validated, finally someone else thought those movies were awful and a stupid waste of time. "They won't miss me...accidentally throwing the bowl of popcorn into the air or spilling my soda on them." Clare chuckled. "I can, I always went for the big dramatic exits! Of course I regretted the decision after I fell and cut my hand. What's harder to believe is we went this long without having the horror movie talk." Obviously she'd realized they weren't Drew's favorite since he didn't push her to watch them. But it never really came up. "Aww, what do they know. You protect me. We can hide under the blanket together from now on. Your brother and Eli always had to push my limits too. I only like campy Halloween movies. Michael Myers and Chucky don't scare me." She shrugged. "Erika was scared. I don't know if that counts. She let me hug her too, and by let I mean it was her idea." Clare smiled. "Probably and she's welcome anytime. I'm on board with her staying here if Omar says no. We'd just have to be prepared for it to be temporary. Because if we get attached and they do find a family for her...there's nothing we can do about it. Right? I mean we're not licensed to foster and we can't rush into an adoption." She frowned deeply. Most people wanted babies not a four year old who'd spent most of her life in hospitals. "I hate that Erika knows the cancer is hurting her chances with some couples. She's been through hell." Clare bit her lip. Adam should be the best man. No matter who it was instead, he'd just be a stand in. "You can borrow my nephew for ring bearer." She offered. Clare didn't know if Drew had anyone in mind for that or not. But Thomas was going to be his nephew too. "The bridemaids have to be Darcy, Alli, and Jenna. Is three a good number? Or do I need more since one of them will be maid of honor?" She laughed knowing Alli would fight her sister for the title and she deserved it. "If Erika's here she can be a flower girl with Mary. I think Mary's too little to do it alone. We need to decide what time of year to get married. Then find out which dates are available." Clare smiled at Drew. She responded to the kiss and only pulled back a bit after to continue talking. "Is that so? At least let me try on one unless you think this is sexy?" She motioned to her Mrs. Claus costume. She gave him a surprised look at his question. "Yes and no. I ran out and I had the appointment so I missed a couple of pills. I haven't gotten it refilled yet because of the holidays. However, I wasn't going off them yet. If I got pregnant now...I guess we'd plan the wedding around the baby? Or if I get pregnant close to the wedding it won't matter. The problem is the inbetween..." Clare cut herself off and kissed Drew. They didn't have to worry about it tonight. She giggled because she'd planned on this room all along. It was where she'd hid the presents. Clare kissed Drew deeply and slid her hand underneath his shirt, caressing his skin. She worked on undoing his buttons and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Clare fell back onto the bed still kissing kissing her fiance. She moaned softly as Drew kissed down her neck. She meticulously moved her hands all over his upper body. "We need to make love more often." Clare whispered, giggling softly. They did have sex a lot. Work just got in the way sometimes. She moved her hand down to his trousers, and started to tug at the zipper.
Drew: laughed when Clare mentioned "accidentally" spilling her popcorn and soda. "Bee never let me hold the popcorn for that reason, I would jump and spill it everywhere." he laughed a bit, then smiled when she mentioned them hiding together. "We can just invite them here if you want and the two of us can hide in a blanket fort. I don't do Chucky. Seen it at the age of 4, woke up with a Chucky doll in my bed and I freaked out. My uncle found out after and hid Chucky dolls everywhere. There were even robot Chuckys that chased me around the house. He's a robotics expert and it wasn't just me he did that with. It was all of us, my cousin Chelsie is 30 and still terrified of the dark and being alone because of him. We all hated his house, but we rioted against him when Adam entered the family. Adam had liked horror so he took the lead, we all followed. He showed us parts of Clockwork Orange and the Shining that we're really scary to teach us what to do and how to do it. I dressed as Alex from Clockwork Orange and my twin cousins dressed as the twins from the shining. We created our own torture chamber to get even with him. He now resides in a mental institute." he shrugged. "But I'm still afraid of Chucky." he stated honestly, he didn't think he'd ever get over that fear. Hearing Clare talk about Erika being scared caused Drew to smile. "That counts. In the hospital when she had to do something she was scared of such as needles, there was a nurse there when my mom or myself weren't there since she hugged us while getting it, she wouldn't hug the nurse she'd hug her bear instead. The fact that she chose you over her bear means something." he assured her. Hearing Clare talk about keeping Erika with them if Omar said no caused him to smile. "We could probably foster her, if Omar says no. If you like I can look into it and maybe meet with someone. The chances of her getting adopted are slim, sadly. Not many can afford to care for her like we can so we have that going for her, plus you survived cancer too which will help you bond with her as well as get them to let us foster her and if it comes down to it, adopt her in the future." he shrugged. "So get attached if you want, I'm already attached to her and she's already attached to my mom and I." he smiled and kissed her head. When she started to talk about their wedding, he smiled. "No three's perfect and tradition. Just make one your maid of honor and two bridesmaids. My best man is actually Adam. Chelsie said she'd make a life size cardboard cut out of him to stand besides me. She'll be a groomsman next to him and will hold the ring, after that is my cousin Charley. I haven't seen him in ages, but when he found out I needed a groomsman he called up and offered. He said he'll be here regardless of the wedding and will take time off work. He doesn't really take vacation time so he has months saved up and I would love Thomas to be my ring bear." he explained with a smile. When Clare mentioned lingerie, he smiled at her. "It's too time consuming. You'd have to put it on and then I'd take it off you, whereas I can already take off your Mrs. Clause costume." he smiled at her. He listened to her talk and kissed her when she kissed him. "What in between?" he asked between kisses knowing it confused him. His lips never left hers as she kissed him while undoing his shirt. His hands immediately going to the zipper on the back of her costume and undoing it just before she laid on the bed. He smiled breaking the kiss as he stood up and looked down at her. "This needs to go." he breathed as he started to remove her clothing, then kissed her more. "We do need to make love more often and in more places." he smiled and started to kiss down her body. His lips moved from her neck to her voluptuous breasts and he circled his tongue around her nipple while his hand made its way between her legs and over the fabric of her panties.
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