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violetnotez · 4 years ago

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HC: The Boys Taste Their S/o’s Chapstick

Anonymous: could I request headcannons for shinso, mirio, denki, sero, and bakugo kissing their s/o and tasting their chapstick ? Or if you want or when they realize their s/o takes care of them in really subtle ways that they didn’t really notice it at first ? i love your blog so much 🥺❤️

Hey babe omg Im so happy you like my blog!!!! Also this ask OMG I have been wanting to write it for so long!!!! Im a sucker for these super cute and fluffy headcanons, so thank you so much for the idea!

Pairings: Shinso x reader, Mirio x reader, Denki x reader, Sero x reader, Bakugo x reader

Warnings: some might get suggestive, but none of these are full blown NSFW! Just a sprinkle of spiciness, thats all!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

S H I N SO U

Flavor: Cherry Vanilla

Your currently trying to get ready for bed with Shinsou, his purple hair cascading against the pillow as he’s scrolling through Insta

defintely looking at cat vids

Youre just BEAT from the day- work, school, practice, whatever your life entails it just felt so incredibly tiring today

Of course, Shinsou seems to have other plans

Once he sees you come out of the bathroom, your hair wet, your skin dewy from washing, your body only wearing one of his oversized shirts and some small shorts....

man is gonna wanna be allllll over you

“Damn, kitten who allowed you to look that hot,” he’d purr, his eyes drinking you in as he propped his body on his elbows to get a better look

You’d roll your eyes, a smile on your lips-

Lowkey a perv for his s/o fight me on this

Once you sit down on the bed, its over

Shinso’s hands are all over you, his palms trailing under your shirt as he leaved lazy kisses on your neck

“Cmon, baby, lets have a little fun before we sleep....”

Just tell him your tired, and he’ll comply, turning super fluffy and cuddly in a matter of minutes

Reluctantly tho this boi is horny when hes horny

“Ahh my kitten’s tired? Fine then, you need your rest.”

He’ll lean in to give a sweet kiss, unknowingly of how flavorful you taste now with your chapstick

And OHOHOHO after that its OVER

The taste of vanilla bursts in his mouth, the scent of cherry becoming more prominent-

When did you start tasting so good?

He honestly wont know how to react- he’ll shake his head and blink a few times, “The hell-?” spilling out of his lips

He grabs you buy the chin, his thumb swiping against your lips gently

Once he sees the faint red sheen on his digit, it kinda dawns on him whats going on

You catch on to his confusion, a small giggle spilling out of you as you tell him its just chapstick you bought since your lips felt dry

He’ll just give you a lazy smirk, his lilac eyes a royal purple as he eyes you

This man cant HELP HIMSELF

He’ll lean in for another kiss, this one lasting much longer and more passionate as he tried to capture that taste again

“Do me a favor and keep wearing that kitten,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

M I R I O

Flavor: Birthday Cake

Im so proud of fidning this picture im sorry it just matches so well

Anywaysssssssss

You had just gotten out of the locker room, your UA uniform a little wrinkled from being balled up while you were training

You walked out the metal doors, your lips feeling much softer than usual- you were in desperate need of chapstick after that particular lesson

Thanks UA for having training grounds that blow up every 5 seconds and spray dust everywhere

But thankfully Neijire is the best person ever and hooked you up with some super cute chapstick

Since it was new and just sitting in her book bag, she just told you to keep it

NEIJIRE WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO SWEET?

You had to admit though, you really liked it- the packaging was pretty cute, it was nice on your skin, but the SMELL

OMG

You felt like a bakery was near you every step you took

And everytime you licked your lips it tasted like sweets, which was an amazing addition

Makes ya wonder how safe it is to consume makeup 👀

Mirio is the cutest boyfirend though-wherever your class is, he waits for you outside and walks with you until you have to go your seperate ways

So, as usual, he’s waiting for you outside the locker room, a wide grin plastered on his face

Once he sees you walk out of the doors, he’s already bounding over, his arms swinging cause hes always just so happy to see you

“Hey sunshine!” he greets you like any other day, his voice just radiating happiness

Some days though, Mirio will kiss the top of your head as he grabs your hand and walks you to his class

Other days, he’s a little more bold, instead leaning down to give you a kiss on your lips as he snakes his hand around your waist

TODAY BABE

IS THAT DAY

You can tell he’s feeling a little more *frisky cause he’s got this mischievous glint in his eyes

ehhhh why not indulge him?

So you get on your tippie toes, leaning in to him and planting a quick kiss on his lips

But thats when Mirio gets confused- did you eat something?Is it cake? CInnamon roll? Cookie? But whatever it is, it tastes GOOD

“Sweetie, did you buy something from the vending machine?” he asks, a confused grin on his face as he eyes you

You laugh, not realizing that Mirio would be affected by your new chapstick too,

“Oh no, its just a chapstick Niejire gave me, I think its cake batter flavored- do you like it?”

Mirio licked his lips , savoring the lingering flavor on his skin

“You batter belive it!”

*cue the groaning

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

D E N K I

Flavor: Pina Colada

So Mina, bless her little music crazed heart, somehow won a pack of tickets from a radio station to a new water park opening up not too far from UA

It was superrrrr expensive to get in, but the music station hooked all you guys up with VIP tickers, a private cabana, food, THE WORKS

You had been running around with the group all day

(except Bakugo- he either went to the lazy river or the surfing simulator thignie cause Kaminari said he would wipe out and wanted to prove him wrong)

Everybody else wanted to do everythingggg, from ride the craziest rides to trying all the food the park had

By the end of the day, you were completely beat and just wanted to rest

Mina was sitting beside you in the cabana (again, thank you radio station for hooking some teens up!), just searching it for snacks the boys hadnt eaten

“Aww cmon, really?! We have chapstick but no food?!”

Your head instantly perked up at the sound- chapstick? God, you could deifnitely use some right now from all that chlorine and sun...

You asked Mina to toss you one, the pink skinned girl throwing you a tube as she grumbled about how “piggy” boys were

You checked the flavor on the tube, the fruits on the side label instantly telling you it was something tropical

As you were putting it on, the boys of Bakusquad were bounding up the steps, their feets covered in sand-

“Guess what?! We got Bakugo to go in the wave pool! Isnt that crazy! It had sand on the bottom, like a real beach-”

Kirishima was just gushing and super excited, Bakugo looking like a pissed off wet cat next to him

You sat up quickly, happy to see your boyfriend, his spiky hair all wet from the day and his boxers dripping

As Kirishima and Sero were messing with an extremely annoyed Bakugo, you went and grabbed the boys some towels, giving the last one to your boyfriend

“Aww thanks babe,” he gushed out, his hands grabbing the towel gingerly as he leaned to kiss you

But wait- you tasted- really sweet?

Kaminari pulled back slightly, a small smirk on his lips, cause damn, that tasted really good

“Did you eat some fruit or something? Cause you taste super yummy babe-”

You pointed to your lips as you told him how Mina found some free chapstick lying around in the cabana

Kaminari just gave you this really blissed out stare as he sneaked one more peck from you- he was kinda wishing his friends weren't here, cause hed totally be making out with you with that yummy stuff on your lips...

“Do me a favor and dont take that stuff off, okay? Until we get back to the dorms,”

He sent you a small wink, weaving behind you inconspicously, and giving your bottom a playful pinch

WHY YOU GOTTA BE A FLIRT KAMINARI

(Also before you left Kamianri most definitely dumped the whole jar of chapsticks into his backpack)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

S E R O

Flavor: Peppermint

You and Sero had just gotten coffee from a little cafe when it starts to rain

Like alottttttttttt

And of course it happens when your right outside, waiting for your ride to take you back home

So you two are just standing there like weirdos with the rain POURING, Sero holding up his jacket over both of your heads

But honestly, it’s not doing much to block out the rain, so honestly-why not have some fun?

You run out of the fabric, instantly feeling your whole body get drenched as you start twirling and laughing

“He-hey wait, babe!”

Sero’s gonna be laughing, and now y’all playing a wierd game of tag

Aghhhhhh so cute tho 🥺🥺

He catches you pretty quickly, his tape grabbing your waist and pulling you to him,,,

You instantly collide with his chest, your cheeks rosy from running around so much and your hands resting on his chest

Sero gives you the biggest grin, his finger under your chin and raising it to look at him

“You know your the biggest tease I know?”

“Yup!”

He laughs, placing a kiss on your lips-and omg why are you minty? and it feels soooo good to him, cause honestly mint isn’t a bad flavor-

“Hey babe whatcha got on your lips? Did you eat-gum or something?”

You just laugh and tell him it’s some chapstick you got (imagine the mint eos U KNOW THE ONE)

He asks if it’s the egg chapstick OML 💀

Yes Sero the egg chapstick

His lips are parted a little, his eyes wider than usual cause he’s lowkey confused on how he liked that so much

But he send you another huge grin before he kisses you again-

“I think your gonna need to wear that more for me, yeah?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

B A K U G O

Flavor: Cinnamon

Bakugo has ben practically forcing you to wake up at ungodly hours with him to train

He says its cause “youre getting weak” but really he’s a total simp for having such close contact with you

Also he’s a little brat and put his all into it so you cant ever beat him, which boosts his ego for some reason?

“Hah, that really the best you got?” he scoffs down at you, his calloused hands pinning you to the ground as his body cages you in for the umpteenth time

Honestly, its hard to fight when your 1) annoyed about loosing and 2) have your hot as hell boyfriend pining you to the ground

But thankfully

THANKFULLY

He was starting to overheat, his breathe coming out in low pants as strands of hair began sticking to his forehead

You felt one of his palms begin to slip ever so slightly near you, and on instinct you knew you had to do something, you finally had an opening-

so you caused a distraction

Your hands quickly flew to the nape of his neck, pressing his head down to your so you could kiss him square on the lips

Bakugo was completely confused in the best way possible- he didnt expect that to happen, but hell, hes not complaining-

until his lips start to tingle

“-the hell?!” he sputters out, his mind trying to figure out what was going on just before you successfuly flip him over, with you now on top

You stared down triumphantly at your boyfriend, not knowing how well that worked- until you noticed how shiny Bakugo lips look

He begins mashing his lips together, trying to rub it off since you had his hands pinned down

“The hell is on my lips? Agh, dont tell me its that weird ass lip stuff that supposed to make your lips bigger or something-’’

Ummmmm how does he know about lip plumping lip gloss? Question for a another day-

“Its chapstick silly,” you giggle, “-cinnamon”

Honestly, he’s gonna like it-this boy likes spicy things and the fact that “spicy” sensation came from his s/o....shoooottttt he is in love

But

Of course

He’s gonna act like it’s wierd or something, cause HES wierd

“Cinnamon? You couldn’t get something normal like cherry or grape?”

You scrunch up your nose, cause yeah your not for those flavors AT ALL, and Bakugo finds his chance

He quickly flips you over, your back now against the floor and his body on top of yours

“Cmon, baka don’t tell me thats seriosuly all you got-“

Don’t remind him that you were able to flip him over tho he’ll turn red and tell you to shut it

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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1kook · 5 years ago

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skirt chasers

jjk x (f) reader

summary “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.” tags f2l, triple texting king kook, ncampus crush kook who is also the weird gamer boy, the skirt aspect is forgotten towards the end tbh, dumbassery is a disease and we are all affected by it, confessions SO CORNY it could be a 2005 teen romcom warnings smut in the form of: unprotected sex, use of mirrors, mostly heavy petting as foreplay I’m sorry, mentions of Jk’s furry ways as a gag kinda, like an unnecessary amount of swearing wc 7.8k

to make a long story short, i saw this nsfw gif and wrote this entire fic between 2 am and 6 am anyway i actually really like how this turned out!! lmk when u think

Part of the ideology behind the pleated skirt was in hopes that buying a new wardrobe would somehow help you rebrand your image around campus. Truthfully, it was kinda too late for that now; you’d been here going on three years, your friends and anyone with eyes could see that the style of clothing you leaned towards favored comfort over fashion. However, someone—it might’ve been Taehyung—had gone on a drunken spiel the other night concerning the importance of presenting oneself via fashion. It wasn’t aimed at you, but it certainly left you wondering.

Which is how you find yourself shivering to the bone now, lingering around the west quad as you wait for Jungkook to come out of an anatomy lab. He’s at that point in the semester where grades mean nothing and everything to him at the same time, so Namjoon’s commissioned you and your other pals to take turns babysitting him once a week to make sure he gets at least some assignments done.

You don’t know where any of you would be without Kim Namjoon.

Anyway, your legs are fucking cold and if this is what it takes to be known as the fashionably cute girl around campus, you’d rather choke. The imaginary sound of your bones rattling is cut off when Jungkook throws the door nearest you open, his big dopey smile engulfing his face the moment he sees you. He barely acknowledges the gaggle of students that follow after him, all calling out a chorus of goodbyes to him, because unlike you Jungkook was the cute, campus boy crush with his suave looks and comfortable fashion. God, if only you could pull off sweats and mustard-stained Venom shirts like him.

“Lets go,” you yawn, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of your long cardigan. Jungkook jogs over, slinging an arm around your shoulders and nearly knocking you into the emergency telephone you’d been brooding by. “You smell sterile again.”Jungkook grins.

“That’s because I was touching dead people again,” he informs you, too giddy for someone who’d probably fingered the fuck out of a gallbladder twenty minutes ago.

“Ew,” you whine, the sudden urge to shove Jungkook and his dead people germs away from you. He cackles in your face, and you wonder again how he single handedly enthralls half the campus population with a laugh like a seagull.

You’ve barely moved ten feet when Jungkook finally notices your vibrating body, and it’s only because you’re nearly convulsing with shivers at this point. “Woah, what are those,” he exclaims, eyes pointedly eyeing your legs.

You know your bare legs are a rare sight when Jungkook has to resolve to overused memes to refer to them.

“They’re my legs, and they’re fucking freezing,” you calmly reply.

Jungkook seems shocked for only a moment longer, and you almost think he’s gotten over it when he suddenly snorts and scares the shit out of you in the middle of the crosswalk. “Why the fuck are you wearing a skirt in this weather, you dinglehead?”

You shove him, and he stumbles over the curb, but you get the feeling he’d do that without you pushing him. Jungkook was clumsier than Namjoon on his bad days. “I’m trying to be fashionable, you hater,” you huff, not even bothering to say thank you when he pulls open the coffee shop door for you. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to someone who doesn’t even wear the right size shirt.”

Like always, he’s one step ahead of you and hands the cashier his card before you can even reach for your wallet. Next time. “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

“For your information I bought this from H&M,” you retort, though you can’t hide the flush that warms your cheeks at his comment. “Also, what's the point of working out your hotbod if you’re just gonna hide it under shirts long enough to be a mini-dress, huh? Riddle me that, Jeon.”

You flinch when your bare thigh touches the cold seat of the booth, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Your skirt is mad short,” he points out, and you kick his shins.

You’ve already got a Google Doc open on your laptop from last night when you and Jimin had been going ham on a psych essay, but you also have a Fashion Nova cart on another window that’s just begging for you to check out.

“Short skirts are just a concept made by men with lingering eyes to demean and belittle women who don’t submit to their every want and need.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and you watch him muffle a laugh into his palm as he gets his own work out. “Do you think I’m gonna pull the meninist card out on you and call you a slut or something?”

You fake gasp, eyes wide and shocked as you give him your best disappointed face. “Jeon, how could you? I expected better from you.”

This time he does laugh, a dorky sound unlike his witch cackle from earlier, and you finally let a smile slip. Jungkook was funny, too sweet and kind hearted for his own good. A little dumb, but most cute guys were. He’s one of those guys who thinks girls are nice to him out of their own free will, and not because they’re trying to bag the campus hottie.

“Seriously,” he says once he’s pulled his fat anatomical reference book out, stuffed to the brim with worn scientific essays he’d printed out, and pictures he’d taken at every single one of his visits to the cadaver lab. His voice is earnest and genuine when he speaks again. “You can wear whatever you want, I was just curious about the skirt ‘cause you normally wear things past the knee and elbow.”

When he puts it like that you kinda sound surprisingly conservative.

You shrug, tapping away at your computer as if the sight of you in anything other than what he said isn’t really weird. “Just thought I’d try something new. Why, does it look too weird?” Your voice suddenly feels meek, and you’re not sure if your cheeks are warm from the chill outside or from something else.

Jungkook shakes his head, coconut hair bouncing from side to side. “Nah, you look cute,” he says, and then, as if an afterthought, adds, “weirdly sexy, too. Like you belong in a Brazzers video?”

“What the fuck, Jungkook,” you groan, sinking your head into your palms.

“What! You asked for my opinion and I gave you it,” he defends, too casual for someone spewing their unwarranted porn knowledge at you. You urge him to do his homework, drink his coffee, anything besides embarrass you further.

He does, but you don’t miss the goofy way he glances under the table one more time.

The pleated skirt makes it’s return three weeks later, this time accompanied by her best friend, the sheer pantyhose.

“Oh, who’s this sexy schoolgirl?” Taehyung exclaims the moment you step into the diner. Your cheeks flush red when the family beside you send you and your friends a disapproving look.

“That’s what I said!” Jungkook says as he gets up to let you slide into the booth. He has this incessant need to be sitting at the end of the booth just in case nature calls in the middle of dinner and he can’t usher the rest of you out fast enough.

(It almost happened once, and the sight of Jungkook shoving Hoseok flat on his ass had been too funny to forget.)

“Wait a minute, is that why you stopped using EOS and started using the Dove shaving cream?” Chaeyoung interrogates from across you. “So you could show off your sexy model legs?”

“No, Dove is just cheaper,” you reply, trying to sound as aloof as possible but if anyone at this table knew you like the back of their hand, it was definitely Chaeyoung. “Why can’t you guys let me live my best life?”

Taehyung scoffs. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” You snap back, but your level of sass can never seem to match his.

“We all know your ‘best life’ would be spent in those fuzzy Cookie Monster pajama pants and one of Kook’s big ass shirts,” he points out, and you hide behind your menu much to everyone’s amusement.

You whine, “why can’t you all just be supportive besties and tell me I look cute?”

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Chaeyoung assures you, gesturing for you to pass her the sugar for her coffee. “It’s just weird seeing your legs out. Almost weirder than if you randomly pulled your tits out right now.”

Behind her, you can see the same mom from the family glaring at you guys. You lower your head in shame.

“For the record, I’m team skirt, but I wouldn’t be opposed to the other,” Jungkook adds after being silent for so long. Taehyung fist bumps him as you slap your hand over your eyes. At this rate you’d rather just put a paper bag over your head.

“We’re sitting on the same side of the table, so you’re supposed to be on my side!” You groan, and Jungkook shrugs mid-milkshake sip.

“I am!” He splutters once he’s gulped down the thick substance. “I just said I was team skirt, did I not?” His scandalized pout twists into the same sneaky little smile he has whenever Taehyung has convinced him and Jimin to do something stupid. “But I’m also a man, and therefore, a skirt chaser,” he winks.

From the other side of the table Taehyung’s eyes twinkle. “Bro, your mind,” he says in awe. He reaches over to shake Jungkook’s hand as if he’s just presented the table with some riveting discovery in the medical field, and the fucker has the nerve to look smug about it too.

“You guys are so stupid,” Chaeyoung whispers right before the server sets her pancakes down.

“Hey, have you seen Joon’s book? He said he might’ve left it—oh, Jesus, fuck sorry,” Jungkook says before whirling around to face the wall.

You turn from your bent over position by your bed where you’d been rummaging around for a book you coulda sworn you stuffed there last week. Jungkook’s blazing cheeks don’t register with you until you realize your favorite skirt is draping over your rear, giving him a clear view of your dorky star-printed panties.

“Kook,” you stammer, quickly jumping to your feet and brushing your hands over your skirt. “H-How’d you get in?” You ask for lack of greeting.

“Um, uh,” Jungkook stutters, eyes laser focused on some point on your wall. “Chaeyoung let me in.”

“Oh,” you say, and then silence falls over the two of you.

Holy shit this was awkward.

Despite being friends for going on three years, you don’t ever remember there being any stale moments between you and Jungkook. You were the type of friends that just clicked, never having gone through that awkward phase before. But you’d also never seen each other in any state less than presentable. (Being drunk at parties did NOT count, and even then, you’ve always been pretty collected.)

To know that he’s seen your ass, covered or not, tilted your Golden Friendship with Jungkook scale extremely off center. Your fingers twiddle at your sides, not really sure if you should mention what just happened or… what?

He coughs, and you snap back to reality. “Um,” he drawls, still not looking at you but at the socks you’d thrown off the second you got home. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice soft and earnest in that Jungkook™ way that made all the girls swoon. “I should’ve knocked before coming in all rude.” He finally gathers the balls to look you in the eye, and the dude looks like a kicked puppy.

“No,” you wave him off, hands fluttering in front of you because standing like some Macy’s holiday mannequin certainly isn’t making this situation any easier. “It’s okay, the skirt—y’know this wouldn’t happen if I just wore pants,” you say, tacking on a self-deprecating laugh. It’s your turn to look away in shame.

Jungkook jumps at your words. “The skirt’s cute!” He basically shouts and you flinch at the sudden increase in his tone. Then you’re both left looking at each other wide-eyed again as he scrambles to assure you it isn’t your fault. “I like it, and it makes your legs look really nice, so don’t-“ he stutters, as if realizing the meaning in his words, “don’t stop wearing it...” he trails off, cheeks rosy. Your mind goes blank.

“R-Really?” You stutter, surprised at his compliment. It’s not like Jungkook never complimented you—dude couldn’t go fifteen minutes without telling his friends how much he loved them—but for some reason it feels different now.

“Yeah,” he assures you. “Makes you look nice, and um. Pretty.”

“Jeon Jungkook telling me I look pretty? Someone call TigerBeat magazine,” you joke, trying to ease the tension somehow. Your chuckle sounds awfully robotic to your ears, but it makes Jungkook crack a smile and that’s all that matters.

“Shut up. You know I’m not friends with ugly people.”

“Wooow,” you laugh, real this time. “How noble of you,” you retort, and he gives you his best snobby expression possible.

“Ya, you’re welcome,” he teases, and then suddenly remembers what he came for in the first place. “Give me Joon’s planner, I know you’re holding it hostage.”

You roll your eyes, and point over to the notebook on your desk that’s absolutely overflowing with sticky notes and bookmarks. “As if I’d want his nerd diary ruining the good vibes in here.”

“These good vibes smell a lot like Bath and Body Works perfumes, you cheapskate,” Jungkook says as he snatches the book off the surface. He’s at the door again, narrowing you with another faux uppity look when he adds, “this is a Victoria’s Secret Bombshell household.”

“Bombshe—you don’t even live here!” You huff in laughter, ushering him down the hall to the front door. He’s half a foot out the door when he suddenly whirls around, making you take a step back in surprise.

“The stars are cute, but I prefer hearts.”

He slams the door shut behind him so fast, that you almost don’t catch the smirk tacked on at the end.

You were many things, but a liar was not one of them. You couldn’t lie to your parents when you were younger and wanted to sneak out, to your teacher when she asked where your homework was, or to your friends when they asked you who you liked. You couldn’t even lie to yourself.

You’ll admit it, there was a time your eyes had lingered a little longer on Jungkook. When you would spend moments tracing the slope of his jawline, and memorizing the twinkle in his eyes. He was devastatingly handsome, and you would be blind not to see it.

But that was before you became close friends—before game nights at Hoseok’s became a regular staple in your schedule, before your little makeshift picnics in the quad, before you all became Park Jimin’s dedicated fan club (it’s a rotating unit consisting of whoever’s able to go to Jimin’s showcases).

Those fantasies of kissing Jungkook and going on dates were stuffed to the back as you became pals. As you’ve mentioned a million times now, Jungkook was the campus dream boy. He was hardly the skirt chaser he made himself out to be, too sweet and romantic for his own good. Besides, there was no need to be when the skirts flocked to him.

He’d had flings, and even girlfriends, in the time you’ve known him, but he rarely mentioned them to his friends. And even though you pushed that teensy crush aside, you still wondered how Jungkook acted with girls he was interested in, if it was the same he treated you and Chaeyoung, or special on an intimate level a platonic friendship could never be.

It’s the middle of the night when you first get a glimpse.

[1:21 am] jk wyd

[1:21 am] you sleeping , u?

[1:22 am] jk same anyway I finally beat world 8 in super Mario bros

[1:25 am] you omg the 1 w dry bowser?? [1:26 am] you wait u said u wouldn’t play w/o me :/

[1:27 am] jk u suck at Luigi and u know it

[1:30 am] you fuck u [1:31 am] you ok but seriously what do u want I have a test tmrw morning and am pretending to be asleep

[1:32 am] jk damn ok can’t I just talk to my friend about my successes [1:33 am] jk but if u must know

[1:33 am] you I must

There’s a lull in messages for a while, and you decide you should finally actually go to sleep, dabbing some spot ointment onto your skin before hopping in bed. You turned off the overhead light long ago, so the only light illuminating you now is the lamp by your bedside. You tap your phone once again right as Jungkook sends another message.

[1:40 am] jk you looked really pretty today

Oh. Your entire body pauses for a moment to process the sudden message, cheeks slowly heating up. You roll your lips in to stop the squeal that threatens to rip itself out of your throat, scrambling for something to type. But it’s the first time he’s randomly thrown something like this on you, and your brain feels like that episode of Spongebob when everything’s on fire.

Before you can send the jumbled letters you’d convinced yourself was acceptable, your phone vibrates with another alert.

[1:42 am] jk I know its weird to say that but I gotta make sure someone told u at least once today

Your heart flutters at the explanation, and you have to slap a hand over your face to get rid of the goody smile that overtakes your features. This time, you’re a little less thrown off and quickly tap out a reply before he can say anything else.

[13:43 am] you thanks kook :) was it the red skirt lol

You’d been experimenting with different skirts lately, quickly growing bored of the black pleated skirt you’d originally worn. Your latest trip to the mall had you coming home with a variety of colors and styles, like the dark red denim one you’d worn today.

[1:45 am] jk no!!!! [1:45 am] jk maybe… [1:46 am] jk ok yes you looked gorgeous

The tiny letters blink back at you, and you set your phone down for a second to smile stupidly at your dark ceiling. You only let yourself wildly kick your legs around for five seconds because Chaeyoung was asleep next door.

[1:47 am] you haha well I’ll make sure to wear it again for u :)

It’s only after you’ve sent the message that the last two words have you stuffing your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassment. Girl, what the fuck!!!

Oh my god, he could’ve just been friendly and polite this whole time. Jimin had said the skirt looked cute on you as well, and you hadn’t responded like this. All it took was a few compliments from Jungkook to have you dopily acting like a clown for his affections.

Before you can scold yourself anymore, your phone vibrates and you have to sit up to retrieve it from where you’d tossed it across the bed.

[1:50 am] jk for me? I’m honored :) [1:51 am] jk anyway get some rest before ur exam!!! [1:51 am] jk night cutie

You squeal, and Chaeyoung kicks your shared wall.

You liked to clown Seokjin for being the president of his fraternity. He was already a stereotypical frat boy, so it wasn’t that hard anyway; he came from money, was ridiculously gorgeous, and played on your school’s soccer team. However, behind that facade he liked to put up, he, too, was infected by the dumbass disease.

“Wait, are those your legs?” He says the moment you step into his frat party. Normally, he wasn’t prone to the same stupid questions that regularly plagued Taehyung and Jungkook (sometimes Namjoon, but everyone had their weak moments), so you deduce that he probably had some alcohol in his system to openly be asking you such a question.

“Yes, now give me whatever’s in that cup,” you brush off, not bothering to stick around to watch him not-so-subtly grope Chaeyoung as she enters behind you. You trust him enough to hand you a drink that hasn’t been roofied, but you’re also aware that Jin drinks like he’s trying to die three times over. One sip has your face scrunching up at the sour bitterness of it all.

There’s a loud cackle of a laugh that you’d recognize anywhere, and you turn to find Jungkook leaning against the staircase banister looking like a wet dream. “Someone lost on their way to Weenie Hut Jr?” he sneers, cheeks a nice rosy color. You flick his forehead.

You don’t bother gracing him with a reply, instead shuffling over so you’re stood side by side observing the party before you. Yoongi’s here, which is an even weirder sight than your legs being out, so you wonder why no one is talking about that. But then you see the way he’s trailing after Seokjin’s cat, Jalapeño, and realize he’s only here to make sure no one hurts her (she’s more important than anyone else here). You honor his service with another sip of Jin’s whatever the fuck mix.

“Wow, getting braver every day, huh?” Jungkook teases after giving you a very intense once over. He’s referring to the skirt you’re wearing, a little black circle skirt that flows around you like the first one you’d worn a couple months ago. Call it a tribute to the one that started it all. You’ve definitely experimented with lengths a little more, the one you’re wearing now brushing just barely below your ass. Appropriate for the frat party, but definitely not for your theology elective.

You hum, stepping aside as a couple makes their way up the stairs. You’re tempted to go tattle on them to Seokjin, but decide against it when you feel Jungkook’s fingers brush against your thigh.

He grins at the surprised little gasp you let out. “Pretty,” he chuckles, deep and seductive in a way you’ve never seen before. You were used to giggly Jungkook, and Jungkook who laughs like the stepmom from Cinderella, but you’d never seen this one before, the Jungkook who looked and laughed like he was straight out of a Calvin Klein campaign.

You giggle like a teenager at his compliment, unsure of what else to do so you settle on chugging Jin’s death drink. You only get a good three gulps in before Jungkook’s tugging the plastic cup away from you and setting it down on the nearest flat surface. “Don’t get all drunk on me now,” he jokes, eyes the teensiest bit glassy. He doesn’t look drunk, and he’s certainly not acting drunk. He might be a little tipsy, you think, because a completely sober Jungkook would never have the balls to tug you closer by the waist like this one does.

Your hands fall flat on his chest, warm beneath the material of his shirt. Not one of his super baggy ones today, but still a bit loose where it could hug his build. “What happened to the little red one? You said you’d wear it for me…” he questions, lips playfully pushing out into a pout.

You struggle to meet his gaze, focusing on the mole beneath his lip instead. “I, um, haven’t got around to washing it,” you stutter, absentmindedly shifting your weight from side to side.

“Really?” Jungkook presses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you at all. After a moment in which he ducks down to catch your gaze, he seems to accept. “That’s fine. This one’s cuter anyway.”

His words are emphasized by his fingers, tracing along the edge of your skirt while purposefully making sure to graze your skin. You shiver, unconsciously arching your chest into him. It’s only afterwards that you realize when Jungkook smirks in triumph. “Easy access too,” he murmurs, and your heart leaps in your chest.

“Jeon,” you whisper, hyper aware of all the people in this house right now. You’re standing at a point where everyone walks by, and the idea of Jungkook groping you in front of these people, some of which are friends, seems horrifying. “People can see.”

Jungkook’s Cheshire smile grows even wider, and you muffle a yelp when his hand slips beneath your skirt to grope your ass. “Since when were you shy?” He says, voice soft and lilting over the hum of whatever music is playing now. “Weren’t shy when you had your ass in the air that one day in your room.”

Your cheeks burn at the memory, but your core surges with a newfound heat at his wandering hands and teasing words. “Remember?”

You nod, tucking your head against his neck in a last ditch effort to hide your embarrassment. From here, your senses are bombarded with Jungkook and only Jungkook.

You feel him let out a long sigh. “Been thinking about you since,” he admits. “Nah, even before that. When you wore my shirt that one day after our balloon fight in the west quad.”

Your heart thunders at his sudden confession. The balloon fight in question had been a little over a year ago, a rallying effort from your friend group to cheer Taehyung up after an exam. After soaking each other to the bone with water guns and balloons, Jungkook had let you wear one of his stupidly big shirts home. So you’d ditched your usual jeans and shirt, wearing his shirt like a dress all the way home.

The fact Jungkook’s been thinking about you since then makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

“Every time you wear these little skirts, I think of that day. You, in my clothes, looking so soft and warm. Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me.”

You glance around, and your soul almost leaves your body when you make direct eye contact with Yoongi holding Jalapeño across the room. He gives you that Yoongi look, the whatever you’re doing is weird but I won’t say anything because I don’t care look, and that’s your signal to stumble your way upstairs before Seokjin can see you two and scold you.

You’re not sure who’s room you end up, just that it has one and a half bunk beds in it, so you don’t hesitate to push Jungkook down onto the half. He plops down like a little cherub, all sweet smiles until you see the way his pants strain at the crotch. Of fuck, this is happening, you think as you climb onto his lap.

His lips envelope yours the second you’re in his arms. You’re not usually one to give into those John Green cliches, but everything about being in Jungkook’s embrace feels so right. Like you belong there, or whatever.

He’s a good ass kisser, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook was good at everything he did—such was a known fact. But he still kisses you like he’s trying to prove something, like he wants you to melt into him, and he succeeds. His mouth moves against yours, tongue sneaking it’s way past your lips until it’s inside yours, and you’re swapping spit. His breath hot, but you imagine yours is as well because just making out with Jungkook has your body temperature hotter than the inside of a sauna.

“Jungkook,” you groan when he pulls away, desperate to feel his mouth on yours again. He smiles, lips slick and cherried as he drops his hands to your waist.

“‘M right here,” he assures you, pressing a few pecks to your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck, deliciously licking and kissing every inch. You let out a choked moan, and you can feel his smile press against your skin. “Cute,” he croons.

“More,” you beg, fingers curling themselves into his hair. It’s gonna way longer these last few months, the front pieces almost brushing the tip of his nose. He looks sexy as fuck.

“At least let me stretch you out first,” he teases, face too cute for someone about to fuck your brains out. You huff in annoyance, snatching his hand away from its path to your panties.

“No,” you whine, and then shuffle forward to grind your center onto him. Jungkook groans, jaw tight as he watches you. “Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

His eyes roll back at a particular roll of your hips. “I-It’ll hurt, though,” he tries to reason, but his hands are already hiking up the back of your skirt.

“Make it hurt,” you mumble, so caught up in the moment that your eyes bulge out when he suddenly lifts you to your feet. “What’s wrong?” You huff in dismay, lower lip trembling at the thought of him changing his mind. He lets out an airy chuckle.

“Turn around for me, doll,” he softly demands, and not a single inch of you feels the need to go against him.

You’re met with the sight of your own expression, staring back at you from the closet’s mirrored sliding doors. It’s a little dark in the room, most of the light coming from a desk lamp on the other side of the room that had been on when you first broke in with Jungkook.

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises from behind you, and you watch in the glass as two firm hands snake around your waist, slowly easing you back into his lap. In the seconds you were distracted by yourself, he’d unbuckled the front of his jeans, the cotton fabric of his boxers brushing against your ass. “Gonna fuck yourself on my cock, baby?”

You nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You needn’t worry any longer, your body naturally guiding you through the motions, until one hand grabs his thigh and the other grapples for the bedside drawer next to you. His fingers trace around your waist, hiking your skirt up to—only to reveal a pair of white undies with red hearts. Jungkook’s chuckle against your ear makes you clench your legs together. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this would happen,” he murmurs, and you can’t take your eyes off the mirror as you watch his fingers trace over your covered mound. “Did you?” He asks, breath fanning over your ear.

“N-no,” you gasp, hips jumping when he presses a lone finger to where your clit would be had your girly panties not obstructed the way. You’re embarrassingly wet just from kissing Jungkook, and his playful fingers only worsen your state. “Please hurry, Kook,” you plead, grinding back against his engorged cock.

“You sure?” He checks, and your bobble head nods have him muffling more laughter into your shoulder. “If you say so, baby.”

He lifts you up just the slightest bit to tug his cock out of its confines, and this is the only instance where you wish you weren’t looking at the mirror. His fingers dance along your skin again, tugging your panties to the side.

Screw it, just do it, you say to yourself before sinking down on his cock in one go. “Oh fuck,” you cry, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder at the sudden intrusion.

“Holy shit,” he sighs into your hair, one hand circling to the front of your waist, while the other creeps upwards to rub at where he knows your nipple is. If he were to pull your shirt and bra away, he’d see how rock hard your nipples were right now. “Relax for me, doll, I promise it’ll feel better if you relax.”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut as your body slowly assimilated to the feeling of being stuffed full. God, he felt good inside you. Fit every crevice of you pussy like he was made for you. “Jungkook,” you moan, and he hums in response. “You feel so f-fuckin good,” you babble, swiveling your hips much to both your pleasures. “Can feel you everywhere.”

He presses a kiss to your scalp. “Can you move for me, baby?” He questions, dropping his hands to your waist before slowly pushing you up so you’re not flopped against him like a rag doll. “Wanna see you bounce on my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nod eagerly, desperate to show Jungkook how good you ride dick. You muster up the strength to sit up, one hand right around his thigh again, but this time the other one clamps down over his hand on your waist. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, giving your hips a tight squeeze.

It’s like you thrive off Jungkook’s compliments, because soon enough you’re riding him like your life depends on it.

It’s a rhythm of pushing yourself over and over, thighs tense from the effort it takes to pull yourself away from his cock until only his tip breaches you, before dropping back down. You can’t entirely take the credit, because Jungkook’s arms are there, lifting you up before pushing you back down. Truthfully, he’s probably still doing most of the work in fucking you with the way you see his arms flexing in the mirror.

“Lemme hear you, doll,” Jungkook huffs, and you don’t hesitate to moan for him. It feels overwhelmingly good, his hands tight on your waist as they move you up and down, the material of your skirt bunched up between his fingers. What you’d give to feel them inside you some day, a day in which you’re not dying to feel his cock inside of you. “That’s it,” he grunts, and doesn’t even complain when your legs begin slowing down.

He picks up the slack for you, thrusting his hips up into you like you’re just some toy for him to use and discard. But the soft praises slipping past his lips assure you you are anything but. “F-fuck,” you whine, forcing yourself above and beyond as you begin to feel that familiar coil of heat grow tighter in your abdomen. “Your cock’s s-so f-fucking big!” You cry, and one look at the mirror let’s you know you look as stupid and fucked-out as you sound.

“Really?” Jungkook smirks, drilling into you like his life depends on it. There’s an embarrassingly growing stain on the front of your panties that you catch sight of in the mirror, and part of you wants to clench your legs shut so he doesn’t see. But it seems to do it for Jungkook, and he starts rambling about that next. “Look at you. Fuck. You’re ruining your cute little panties. Absolutely fucking soaking them with hot wet you are. I get you that wet, doll?”

You squeal at a particular thrust of his hips, feeling his cock so deep in you that your eyes momentarily go cross eyed. “Yes, yes!” You agree, bouncing yourself with a renewed vigor.

The answers please Jungkook, and he rolls forward until he’s pressing his tip faintly against your cervix, and your body damn near leaves your soul. “O-oh fuck!” You scream, body turning into jelly as your orgasm has you spurting hot cum into your panties and over his cock.

“Pretty even when you come,” Jungkook huffs, hips rocking up into yours for a few more minutes until he eventually comes when you roll your hips backwards. “Holy fucking shit,” he moans, finally releasing your skirt from the death grip he had on it.

You watch it flutter back into place around you, and you almost look like two platonic friends sitting together, but then Jungkook shifts inside you and your body convulses from the oversensitivity.

“Wait, you and Jeon finally fucked?!” Chaeyoung exclaims halfway through breakfast, which she had so lovingly prepared at three in the afternoon. “When? Is that why you made us get waxed last week?”

“No!” You flush, shoving another forkful of burnt scrambled eggs into your mouth. “We waxed our coochies before that, but I didn’t know we were gonna fuck.”

Chaeyoung blinks. She’s stupid pretty even with avacado spread on her cheek. “So do you have like a seventh sense on when to get your kitty trimmed?”

“What? No,” You scoff. “Seventh? What’s my sixth?”

“Knowing the exact moment Taehyung’s gonna throw up at a party.”

You accept. “Anyway, we just… I don’t know. It was at Seokjin’s third birthday bash last weekend.” She nods like she remembers anything besides sucking face with him all night. “We were talking and then suddenly we were upstairs and...” you trail off, glancing at your fake collection of succulents lining the kitchen window.

“Was he good?” She interrogates.

You flop back onto your chair dramatically. “Chae. He was so good,” you whine, and she slaps your arm in enthusiasm. “He made me ride him facing a mirror,” you spill.

Chaeyoung squeals. “Bitch!! Here I was thinking Jeon Jungkook was the poster boy of vanilla sex,” she pauses. “I mean, still pretty vanilla compared to the time Seokjin stuck it in my—“

You gag and she rolls her eyes. “Have you been talking since?”

This is the part where things get awkward, and Chaeyoung immediately senses as much. “Oh, honey,” she frowns, eyes furrowed in worry.

“He walked me home,” you mumble, toying with the tablecloth ends. “Kissed me on the doorstep and all, but besides a few texts, I haven’t seen him around,” you lamely finish. It’s been a week.

“Ugh, men are trash,” she spits, turning in her seat to play with your hair. “I swear if I see him on campus I’ll rock his shit. My older brother used to practice WWE moves on me, I could easily smash him through a table.”

“WWE wrestling is staged, Chae,” you point out. Chaeyoung was about ten thousand times more experienced when it came to men and their behaviors. She’s been played but also has played, so her reaction to you telling her about Jungkook is all you need to hear.

In all the scenarios you’ve ever had about Jungkook, him randomly ghosting you had never even been a possibility. The Jungkook from your imaginary universes either just dumped you, or awkwardly friendzoned you. But completely disappearing on you? Now that was some John Greene shit.

You’ve gone long periods of time without seeing him, like your freshman year you saw him one time in March. But even then he’d made sure to keep in contact with you, randomly blowing up your phone with Cup Pong and 8Ball requests.

He sent you two texts this whole week, and both of them had been to cancel your homework sessions.

You almost couldn’t believe you were living this life. The men are trash, love isn’t real, heartbreak can possibly cause death life. Forget John Green, your life had taken an unexpected Shakespearean turn.

“Oh,” you say the moment you step into Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment, surprised at the fact Jungkook is there despite the fact he, y’know, lives there. In retrospect, you should have seen this coming when Tae had asked you over to help him decorate a poster for Jin’s next game. He’s never been to a single soccer match in his life. “Is Tae here?” You ask, looking every part the stupid bitch.

Jungkook’s cheeks had flushed the moment he opened the door. “No…” he answers, glances at the shoe rack behind the door as if to make sure. “Were you supposed to meet him?” Well no shit.

“Uhh, yeah,” you say, and it’s even more awkward than the time he saw your star undies. Granted, now he’s become very familiar with your underwear and what’s hidden beneath it. You would think such an encounter would bring you two closer. “I’ll just come back another time.”

“Do you wanna come in?” He blurts out before you can even turn away. You flinch at the sudden intensity of his voice, and then both of you are left staring at each other like cringey high schoolers. “I cut some cucumber slices with lime and that one spice you like.”

“Taíjn?” You confirm, and he nods. “I mean...sure, if it’s not a bother.”

Usually when you and Jungkook hung out at his place, you’d throw your bag across the room and flop onto the ugly armchair the moment you stepped in. Now, you’re awkwardly hovering by the armrest of the sofa, like this is your first time here.

Jungkook disappears into the kitchen to, you assume, get the cucumber slices. He comes back empty handed, and with a heavy heart. “I lied. There’s no Tajín,” he confesses, and you rush to tell him it’s okay but he beats you to it. “There’s no cucumber slices either. I just needed to get you inside to talk to you.”

“You act like I needed to be lured in, Jungkook,” you say, forcing a tight smile on your face. Jungkook visibly deflates at your tone.

“No, this isn’t right,” he huffs, dramatically throwing himself onto the couch. You jump at the loud groan he releases from his position, which is face stuffed into the cushion.

“You...okay?” You tentatively ask, clutching your bag even closer to your side. Jungkook shakes his head no against the couch. “Should I call Namjoon over?”

He sits up so fast you worry he’ll get whiplash. “I have a confession to make,” he informs you, doe eyes wide and serious.

Your brain processes for a minute before slowly responding. “Okay…”

At your response he jumps to his feet. “This may come as a shock, but I’m not a womanizer.”

You blink.

“When have you ever been a womanizer, Jeon?!” You nearly exclaim when you mull over his absurd proclamation. “Are there people who actually think that?”

“I think that people think that,” he stresses to you, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m really nice and cool, and sometimes people think that means I’m flirting with them.” Valid point. “But I’m not, because frankly I’m terrible at shooting my shot.”

The fact he’s actually admitted it out loud leaves him devastated, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Finally, something Jeon Jungkook isn’t good at.

“What lead you to that conclusion?” You carefully press on.

“Because,” he sighs, dropping back down onto the couch, except this time he’s sitting like a normal person. You sit beside him, close enough to the edge that you can just spring yourself out the door if need be.

“There’s this girl I like,” your heart pangs, even though the logical side of you can more or less guess where this is going. You’re stupid, but not that stupid. “She’s amazing, like everything about her makes me like her. God, she’s so cool, like everyone wants to be her friend, even though she sucks at Super Smash Bros., and burns her ear on a straightener at least once a month. But she’s funny and sweet, and makes me wanna join a clown troupe just to hear her laugh. And she looks gorgeous in skirts, and the way she rides dic—“

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” you interrupt, glancing at the coffee table decorated with Jungkook’s anatomy books, because you don’t want to look at the big dopey grin on his face as he talks about you and your dick riding abilities.

Jungkook grins, this much you can tell from your peripheral, before it drops into a frown. “Whole point is, she’s cool as fuck. And I… I think I might love her,” he admits, and you whip around to face him. His cheeks are as red as Taehyung’s current hair dye, which is to say they’re as red as a fire truck. You get th feeling you're mirroring his expression.

The silence following his confession seems to drag on an eternity, but truthfully, you and Jungkook both have the patience of a soccer mom of three, so he jumps to fill the spaces between you. “And like, I just wanna kiss her and hold her and watch her eat and cuddle her to sleep and hold her hand and buy her gifts, and I think I would die for her?—”

“Okay chill, Romeo,” you scramble to cut off that train of thought. Jungkook’s looking at you like you were the creative director behind Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker and the trailer released two minutes ago. It’s a weird reference but coming from Jungkook, it means a lot.

You don’t know what to say, but Jungkook beats you to it anyway. “There’s this girl I like,” he repeats, and your heart does nearly implode on itself when he reaches over to clutch your hand in his. Your hands are sweaty and fidgety from his confession, but so are Jungkook’s. “How do I tell her I like her?”

You gulp, before reaching over to smack at his bicep much to both your surprise. “Jeon Jungkook! How’re you gonna give me the best fucking of my life and then ghost me for a week, because you’re too much of a pussy to tell me you like me!” You almost want to cry, and you almost do when he wraps you in his arms with a delighted, warm laugh rumbling through his whole body. “You suck,” you huff, and sniffle once, and only once.

“Thank fuck,” he sighs in relief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you friendzoned me.”

“The friendzone—“

“—is a made up concept created by men who feel like they’re entitled to women and their feelings, I know,” he huffs and you laugh. You push yourself away from his chest to meet his gaze, stretching up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss that quickly turns naughty when you feel the flex of muscles beneath your hands.

“Ugh, you beefcake.”

“I wish,” he snorts, tugging you back into his chest as he flops down onto the couch. You snuggle into him, the position all too comfortable in your skirt. The only reason you’re reminded of it is because Jungkook traces his fingers along the edge of the material. “You asked me why I workout out but hide in big clothes, and the truth is its so I can beat up any meninist douchebag that tries to slander my girl in her thot skirts.”

You sputter. “My thot skirts—you asshole! All my skirts are of appropriate length,” you defend, pinching his side and winning a giggle for your efforts. “That doesn’t even explain the baggy clothes part either.”

“Shh, your thot skirt is tempting me.”

“He made you dress up as a what now?!” Chaeyoung exclaims, fork clattering loudly against her plate as everyone in the diner turns to look at you two. You try desperately to quiet her, but the damage is done and even the server whose long since become familiar with your antics looks disgusted.

“Oh my god,” Chaeyoung sighs, her concern on everything but this public humiliation. “I knew it. I told you he got along too well with Jalapeño, remember?”

[ NOW WITH A DRABBLE WOW!!! ]

#kpopwonderlandtag #thekpopnetwork #jjk♡#jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jeon jeongguk #mine

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

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Fluff Alphabet: Carewyn/Orion

@weasley-adoptee tagged me, and uh...yeah, while I’ve done this before, I did it before I’d settled on an endgame ship for my girl Carewyn! Now that I have, I can do this for the HMS Carion (AKA Carewyn Cromwell/Orion Amari)! XDD

Tagging @smarti-at-smogwarts, @department-shoe-stud, @cursebreakerfarrier, @that-ravenpuff-witch, @words-and-wands and anyone else if you’re interested and either haven’t done this already or want to do it for a ship they haven’t done it for! xoxo

A= Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Carewyn thinks Orion is the wisest person she’s ever met. She’s always admired how content he is with his life, even while he chases victory on the Quidditch field. He got dealt a pretty bad hand in life, but he’s always been able to make do with little and reach for the stars without being unhappy on the ground. She also absolutely loves how much he loves his friends and later his daughter, Eos. Orion’s a lover, not a fighter, and Carewyn finds it very attractive. Plus his smile, when he actually ends up smiling fully, makes her heart melt every time!

Orion loves how generous and selfless Carewyn is. Her putting her own safety on the line to help him achieve his dream of Slytherin winning the Quidditch Cup remains one of her most beautiful moments in his eyes, even after so many years. Although her passion can get a little much for him sometimes as well, he nonetheless finds her absolutely stunning when she’s fighting on behalf of somebody else -- the fire in her eyes, to him, are akin to the eyes of a wild stallion, and it makes his heart race.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not)

When Orion and Carewyn reconnect post-War, they actually both have kids already, Orion being the single father of an infant daughter, Eos, and Carewyn being the legal guardian of twelve-year-old Erik Apollo. Carewyn has no interest in bearing any children herself, so both she and Orion are very content raising their own kid as well as helping support their partner’s.

C= Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Orion and Carewyn are both on the “A” side of the LGBT+ community (Orion being gray-A and Carewyn being ace/pan), and Orion himself wasn’t raised with a lot of physical affection, so their cuddling is a bit muted, compared to a lot of other couples. They’ll very often sit side-by-side with their shoulders touching and/or holding each other’s hands, and sometimes Carewyn will rest her legs across Orion’s lap or Orion will rest his head on top of Carewyn’s, but they don’t usually tend to get way up in each other’s personal space for very long. When one of them decides to spend the night at the other’s place, they’ll take turns as the big spoon, with Carewyn sometimes resting her head on and arms around Orion’s chest and Orion other times resting his head over Carewyn’s heart with his arms around her waist.

D= Dates (What are dates with them)

Broomstick flying dates! Carewyn’s out of practice, considering how much of a workaholic she is, but she loves having the chance to fly alongside and with Orion again. Carewyn will also attend Quidditch matches with Orion when he’s not playing, and they enjoy cooking, baking, Wizard Dueling, and taking their kids on outings together.

E= Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Orion to Carewyn: “You are my Abraxan.”

Carewyn to Orion: “You are my partner.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Orion first had the feeling he could fall in love with Carewyn (in other words, he realized that he felt romantic feelings for her) when he saw her Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus (same as his) for the first time at the tail end of his seventh year and her sixth year. He was too afraid to chase those budding feelings at the time, only to realize how strongly he still felt for Carewyn and how much deeper his feelings had gotten when -- after they reconnected -- she immediately resolved to deal with all of the paperwork needed to give Orion sole custody of his daughter Eos. The blazing look in her blue eyes when she stubbornly insisted that she would do whatever she had to in order to make sure that Eos stayed with “the man who had put his life on the line to keep her in his life and safe” was so beautiful that Orion for a moment forgot to breathe, and he felt like such a fool for not chasing her from the very start.

Carewyn realized she was in love with Orion as she spent time with him post-War and saw both how much he’d changed and also how much he’d stayed the same. She saw how he’d only gotten wiser about himself and how he wanted to live his life, as well as how well he got through the more recent struggles he went through and how well fatherhood suited him. Seeing him again reminded Carewyn how much she’d always admired him, and also gave her all the more reason to admire him. It all came to a head one day, when after she’d sung Eos to sleep and brought the usually serene Orion to tears, Carewyn and Orion ended up sitting on her couch for the next half-hour or so together, with Orion holding the sleeping baby over his heart with his eyes closed, softly asking Carewyn if she could sing “just one more song” while they sat together. Seeing his handsome, peaceful face as he sat with her and his daughter was the thing that made Carewyn suddenly realize how precious Orion had become to her, and maybe had been, a lot longer than she realized.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Oho, Carewyn is the ultimate Mama Bear type and Orion is a pacifist to the nth degree, so these two are ridiculously gentle. If Carewyn’s ever having trouble reaching something high up or lifting something heavy, Orion will frequently whisper a quick “would you like some help?” and if Carewyn says yes, he’ll either very gently pick her up or place his hands/arms on top of hers to help her with the object. Carewyn is prone to giving Orion chaste kisses of gratitude and helping him fix his collars or clothes before they head out.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

LOL, when Carewyn first initiated hand-holding between them when they were still at school, Orion was faintly uncomfortable because he’d never really held hands with much of anyone before, but it quickly became something he really enjoys doing with Carewyn. Most commonly one of them will rest a hand on each other’s while it’s resting between them on the couch or in their lap, and then the other person will hold the first’s hand in return. When they’re out and about, Orion loves holding hands with Carewyn at their sides, though Carewyn will sometimes also hold Orion’s arm with one or in both of her hands, at which point Orion often kind of lean into Carewyn. Most commonly Carewyn is the one to initiate most physical intimacy, since Orion’s still rather unaccustomed to it given his background, but it makes it so that when he does initiate, it’s usually very spontaneous and romantic, since it’s often done in the heat of passion.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Carewyn about Orion: ‘So that’s the Slytherin Quidditch Captain? ...How is he balancing on his broom like that??’

Orion about Carewyn: ‘Short and round, a Snidget’s build -- ginger ponytail, like the Weasley boy’s -- tight grip on her broom, slightly tense...a Seeker, perhaps? ...No. No, those are a Chaser’s eyes.’

J= Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Actually, no! Neither of them really feel jealousy much of ever. They’re both rather secure in themselves and in their relationship to not get jealous. In Orion’s case, he’s way too chill to really get aggressive or surly because Carewyn’s spending time with other people, and in Carewyn’s case, she knows Orion and herself well enough to not be that distrustful.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Like with most gestures of physical intimacy, Carewyn initiated the first kiss, right after she learned she and Orion had the same Patronus and Orion finally came clean to her about how long and deeply he’d felt romantic feelings for her and she’d likewise expressed how she felt. Carewyn’s first kiss to Orion’s lips was very chaste -- so chaste, in fact, that almost as soon as she’d pulled away, Orion brought both of his hands up to her face so he could cradle it and hold it in place so he could kiss her himself more deeply. There’s often a build-up for their kisses, starting very short and then either growing deeper, or just turning into a stream of traded chaste kisses back and forth. Carewyn tends to prefer shorter kisses because she likes being able to see Orion’s expressions and deep kisses kind of require having your eyes closed, so over time, both Carewyn and Orion become very fond of kissing each other’s faces, foreheads, noses, neck, hands, and shoulders when they’re intimate so that Carewyn can more properly enjoy Orion’s facial reactions and Orion can be a bit more creative in how he expresses his affection.

L= Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Orion. Though, rather predictably, he said it in a very round-about way:

“...I have...nurtured this bud in my heart...longer than I have ever admitted to anyone -- including myself. But when we collided again, during the War, that bud only served to grow further...and then bloom into a blossom so strong and beautiful that I could never hope to hide it...however ashamed I am that I denied it the sunshine and attention it deserved years ago. I’ve wasted...so much time, trying to stifle it...trying to be happy with what was in front of me, rather than chase what my soul was clearly aching for...all because of my own inner doubts...because of the reluctance I felt, in the face of making a choice between the dream I’d been fighting for for so long...and the chance of a new dream I’d never imagined. I realize I have been a coward, Carewyn Cromwell -- something you have never been, from the moment we first met. I don’t know if someone like that could be your soulmate -- if I could ever live up to the standard that word entails...but most assuredly, you are a special woman, one I will never know the likes of again...and I love you, all the same.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

One will always be the morning they spent together in the Commentator’s Box talking after Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup. Another is when Carewyn accompanied Orion to drop Eos off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters for the first time -- Carewyn took Orion out for an outing to the shore afterwards to cheer him up, and they spent the day swimming in the ocean, playing volleyball, and walking around the seaside town together.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Both grew up without a lot of money, so neither are the type to buy extravagant presents, but Orion does like to “surprise” Carewyn now and again, if he sees something he thinks she might like. Most commonly this involves single flowers or small bouquets, which he’ll leave in a spot he knows she alone will find them, such as on her office chair at work or on the windowsill next to her bed at home. Carewyn in return tends to spoil Orion with surprise visits (popping over to watch one of his Quidditch matches without telling him she’s coming and then running to greet him afterward -- the first time she did this, Orion was so stunned and happy that he barreled over to her and, once she hugged him and he’d recovered from that surprise, clung onto her for almost a full thirty minutes afterwards), as well as handwritten love letters. She’ll sometimes send them through Owl Post as usual, but other times she will leave them in his locker or on his pillow for him to find too.

O= Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Carewyn always thinks of Orion whenever she sees anything black and white, as those are his Quidditch team, the Montrose Magpies’ colors.

Orion always thinks of Carewyn whenever he sees anything light blue, like her eyes -- he particularly likes forget-me-nots, since they remind him of them.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?

Although Orion frequently cites how Carewyn “has more fire than a Fire Crab,” he most commonly compares her to an Abraxan Winged Horse, with his pet name for her being “his Abraxan.” Carewyn dips into the usual “dear” and “love,” but when she’s particularly affectionate, she calls Orion “starlight,” as a reference to the constellation bearing his name.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Carewyn loves records! Their audio quality is so much better than CDs.

As dumb and predictable as it sounds, Orion does enjoy lava lamps. He likes colored lighting as opposed to stark white light, as he finds it more calming (even if Carewyn points out that it often makes it harder to see!!), so you’ll find a lot of colored lightbulbs and such around the tiny cottage he shares with Eos.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Orion enjoys games of all kinds, not just Quidditch, so he and Carewyn will sometimes bust out a game of cards, checkers, or Scrabble when it’s raining, especially if Eos and/or Erik are also around. Carewyn’s favorite games are Hearts and Mancala, while Orion’s favorites are Blackjack and Jenga. Wizard’s Chess is one of Erik’s favorite games, so sometimes Orion will play with him while Eos and Carewyn watch, too.

S = Sad (How do they cheer each other up?)

When Carewyn’s down, Orion likes to encourage her to talk about it, but usually does so by starting off talking about something else entirely, so as to help her relax first. He will also sometimes want to show physical affection, like trying to hold her hand or wrapping an arm around her, which he always does so tentatively out of the worry of Carewyn not being comfortable with it that even if Carewyn’s not in the mood, she’ll nearly always try to adjust and initiate some physical affection in return to show some gratitude for the attempt (i.e. sliding her hand out of his, but kissing Orion gently on the cheek afterward).

When Orion’s down, Carewyn goes into full-on Mama Bear mode, coddling him to the nth degree and being his attentive listening ear.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Anything and everything! Orion is a philosopher to the max and Carewyn is intellectual enough to enjoy deep conversations, so they can go way far afield when they’re talking about stuff. Sometimes Carewyn needs to refocus the conversation because Orion gets too vague and dreamy and sometimes Orion has to “lighten up” the conversation when Carewyn gets too serious, but one of the things they love most about each other is how easy it is to talk to each other. You could hear them talking about their respective kids Eos and Erik and their careers just as often as the meaning of life or the current status of a piece of legislation regulating dragon breeding.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Orion meditates constantly. He’s occasionally been able to get Carewyn to join him, but more often she prefers putting on some calming music and getting some work done at the kitchen table while he does so, claiming that the music helps her relax. (It does. To a limited extent.) Whenever she does this, Orion -- upon finishing his meditation -- will fetch her hairbrush from her room with a smile and then come up behind her and start gently brushing her hair for her, which does actually get Carewyn’s shoulders to loosen up slightly. They also will often drink tea together, which is very calming.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

LMAO, if Orion manages to catch sight of Carewyn in the audience during a Quidditch match, he ALWAYS has to break out the old “Inspired Broom Surfing” technique for her. He can’t resist showing off on his broom around “his Abraxan.”

Carewyn’s much more prone to “show off” her partner’s accomplishments by telling others about them when they’re out and about together, as well as any pretty new outfits she’s wearing.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?

Carewyn and Orion would never get married, instead becoming legal partners with their own separate homes and lives that nonetheless exist in perfect harmony. Orion describes their relationship as them being two flowers that have bloomed on the same branch -- separate entities that nonetheless are connected and are fueled by the same sun and nourished by the same water. Carewyn felt strongly about them having some sort of lasting legal statement for the sake of both each other and their kids, so that if anything happened to either of them, their partner would have the right to be with them in St. Mungo’s, make decisions in their stead, and take custody of their respective child in an emergency. The two had a very small ceremony at a courthouse in London, only attended by their respective kids, before attending a larger gathering later with all of their friends and Carewyn’s mother and brother.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

These two have a whole playlist! ^.^

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Answered above, but no. Orion has his own cottage in Montrose, Scotland, home of his Quidditch team, while Carewyn has her own flat in London, England, close to her job at the Ministry of Magic, so merging their two households would’ve been a real challenge. On top of that, Carewyn was never in much of a rush to get married and Orion never saw much point in the ritual to begin with.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

There are actually a lot of hinkypunks in the woods around Orion’s cottage in Montrose, which Orion and Eos actually leave little treats out for and treat like pets, even if they’re generally known for luring people to their doom with their lamps. Eos tends to call every hinkypunk she comes across “Punk” by default, but there are a few she’s learned to recognize by overall attitude and given individual names like “Impy,” “Mello,” and “Wisp.” There’s also a large tribe of selkies that often pop up near the shore a short trek away from the Amari home too, and although Eos and Orion can’t communicate with them, Orion enjoys taking Carewyn down to the beach and encouraging her to sing so that the selkies will come up out of the water to listen better.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #headcanons #shipping #my writing #lol recycled art #erik apollo #eos amari

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Desert Sands: Part 3

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Scott, John, Alan, Virgil, Gordon, Kayo, EOS

Still here, still not finished with this fic, but here’s another chunk of it to tide things over while I work on new stuff. Healthy dose of TAG-physics involved here, not gonna lie.

<<<Part 2

“You want to do a three hundred mile HALO drop?” Alan asked, aghast. John rolled his eyes.

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“But that could kill you! HALO drops aren’t supposed to be anywhere near that, John!”

“I know,” he sighed, checking the mechanical release on his exosuit wings. “If you’ve got another idea, I’d love to hear it.”

Silence answered and a part of John sagged. He was, as Alan had said many times, a ‘console jockey’. He dealt with data and holograms, and left the actual plan-plans to the guys on the ground. While he could, of course, make plans and execute them, experience was the best teacher and even Alan was at least his peer on active participation on rescues.

“In that case-”

“How about the space elevator?” Alan interrupted, and John blinked, started.

“The space elevator?” he asked. “But Thunderbird Five can’t get here; the other space station’s in the way.”

“Thunderbird Five can’t get here under her own power,” Alan corrected. “But what if we used Thunderbird Three?”

His brother was staring at him in earnest, but John wasn’t sure what the connection was. All the genius in the world didn’t help decipher the way a teenager’s mind worked, sometimes.

“What about using Thunderbird Three?” he asked, cautiously.

“Thunderbird Five can only move in linear vectors, so she can’t manoeuvre around the other space station, but how about if we use Thunderbird Three to move her?” Alan explained. “With Thunderbird Five’s thrusters to move, and Thunderbird Three’s thrusters for manoeuvring, we can get her here and then you can take the space elevator down.”

John blinked at him. He’d never considered that Thunderbird Three would be able to move Thunderbird Five, but considering some of the things the space rocket had moved, it was perfectly a perfectly reasonable assumption.

“Okay,” he said. It was Alan’s turn to blink.

“Okay?”

“Okay. It’s a good idea, Alan; we’ll give it a go.”

His brother’s mouth slowly stretched into a grin, while his blue eyes sparked excitedly.

“F.A.B. Thunderbird Three returning to Thunderbird Five.”

The red rocket rolled around, nose pointing back towards the space station, and then they were off.

“Alan, any progress on dealing with that EMP?” Gordon broke in, making contact with Thunderbird Three. “Oh, there you are John. Tell us next time you plan on leaving Thunderbird Five unmanned, maybe?”

The aquanaut looked grumpy, and was clearly piloting. That meant Virgil was dealing with Kayo, still.

“Sorry,” John allowed. “We’ve located the EMP and have a plan of action to disable it, which we’ll be commencing shortly.”

“How?” Virgil cut in, apparently linked in from the medical bay. “We can’t get close.”

“I’ll drop down on it from above using the space elevator and disable it like that,” John informed them.

“John, two problems. You said you can’t get Thunderbird Five above the Sahara, and the space elevator will also get fried.” Virgil sounded less than impressed with the plan, and John had a brief idea of just how much the bear would have torn into him if they’d gone with the HALO drop.

He resolved not to let Virgil know about that. Ever.

“Alan’s creative,” he responded instead. “Let EOS know once you’ve dropped Thunderbird Shadow back at home.”

“John-” He ended the transmission, knowing he was going to get complained at later but needing to concentrate on the finer points of the plan. Using the space elevator was all well and good, but Virgil was right – it would get fried, so even if he had Alan and EOS control it from Thunderbird Five, he couldn’t travel down inside it or he’d be locked in, and he didn’t have the tools to manually get himself out in a hurry.

If no-one was in danger, he’d do it, but Scott had been missing for over an hour and despite his reassurances to Alan the voice of cool logic in the back of his head was reminding him that Scott had been doing Mach 15 before being hit with the EMP. John had no intentions of taking any longer than necessary. At absolute best it would be another half an hour before anyone could reach him – fifteen minutes to descend, another fifteen to turn it off and get Thunderbird Three down into the Sahara, despite his earlier declarations that Alan would not be doing that – and with Thunderbird Two having to take Thunderbird Shadow back home, it would be at least another hour before their main land-based equipment was on site.

He was going to have to take a slight risk, and ride on the outside of the space elevator. Scott and Virgil had both chewed him out for doing that exact thing before, but with a brother’s life potentially on the line John had no qualms about doing it again.

“We’re here,” Alan announced unnecessarily as Thunderbird Three once again locked into the gravity wheel. “John, set Thunderbird Five’s thrusters to half power. We just need her to start moving; Thunderbird Three will do the rest.”

“F.A.B.” There were few occasions when John would take orders from Alan, but Alan was the better pilot and towing Thunderbird Five was going to be a difficult operation. He slipped through the airlock, not bothering to shed the exosuit when he’d be needing it again later, and engaged the thrusters.

Thunderbird Five was not like her sisters. She had powerful thrusters, mainly for use in evading meteors and other space hazards, but was not specifically designed for travelling through space. That was Thunderbird Three’s job, and it was with the knowledge that he was putting his ‘bird almost entirely in Alan’s hands that he set the thrusters to half power and stepped back. She moved, slowly to start with as she fought with the additional weight attached to her, and then slowly increasing in speed as Thunderbird Three’s boosters ignited, shifting her out of her orbit.

“Thunderbird Three has control,” Alan informed him after another minute. “Cut thrusters, John.” He did so, hearing his ‘bird’s own engines whine down into silence and finding himself in the very odd situation of his Thunderbird moving under external influence. If it was anyone other than Alan, he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it – not even Scott, for all that his older brother was a brilliant pilot.

The space station that had caused all this passed by the window at a respectable distance – part of John hoped they weren’t watching Thunderbird Five being towed, or pushed, as the case actually was – and then the coast of Africa was approaching, far below.

“Begin braking manoeuvres,” Alan cautioned and he obeyed, watching Thunderbird Three’s data out of the corner of his eye as Alan matched Thunderbird Five’s breaking with his own retros, bringing the two Thunderbirds to a precise stop above the co-ordinates EOS had calculated for them.

A moment later the airlock hissed as Alan entered, EOS in hand. “Well done, Alan.”

“It was nothing,” his brother shrugged off, inserting EOS’ drive back into the terminal. After a moment, the security camera rotated again, a ring of lights reappearing.

“John, I will control the space elevator from here,” the AI said. “Control will reduce to only paying out the cable once you reach the final two hundred and fifty miles, but as that does not require any technology from the space elevator itself I will be able to lower it to the ground safely from here.”

“Thank you, EOS,” he said, once again checking his exosuit. While the tech itself would be useless, the suit itself would give him additional protection and John wasn’t so desperate he’d launch himself from space without all the protection he could get – if only because Scott would never forgive either of them if he got hurt saving him.

“I’ll scan the area again, with Thunderbird Five this time,” Alan said. “If Scott’s down there, I’ll find him.” John offered him a small smile.

“Let me know what you find,” he said, heading for the airlock. “EOS, start the descent.”

“The space elevator is away,” she informed him. “I will hold it at ten feet until you’ve boarded.”

“Be careful!” Alan called out as he left, clinging to the cable and waiting for EOS to continue to lower it.

Alan had relocated Thunderbird Five in a much lower orbit than usual, and as such the two craft were not actually in geostationary orbit. The vastly reduced distance of only twelve hundred miles, instead of Thunderbird Five’s usual twenty two and a half thousand, meant that the drop would be much shorter, but it also meant they were on a time limit. Looking up, John could see Thunderbird Three’s boosters firing, Alan and EOS having calculated the exact force she needed to exert on Thunderbird Five to keep her temporarily stationary, but Thunderbird Three only had so much fuel, and there was a much higher traffic level in Low Orbit.

As soon as John was on the ground, they would need to at the least allow Thunderbird Five to orbit, and preferably pull her back to her usual altitude, otherwise they risked a collision with another satellite.

He was quite frankly amazed that no-one was calling him and Alan out on their dangerous relocation, but John wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

His communicator beeped, and he answered to see a very grumpy Virgil glowering at him.

“You had better not be doing what I think you are,” he threatened, and John raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.

“How’s Kayo?” he asked, instead of bothering to respond. They both knew what he was doing.

“She’ll be fine,” Virgil assured him, although his frustration hadn’t abated a bit. “Some bruises and a broken leg, but all in all it could have been a lot worse. Thunderbird Two is refuelled and heading back towards the Sahara now. Gordon and I will be there in an hour.”

“Good to know,” John said. “I’ll be at the EMP generator in less than fifteen minutes. With any luck by the time you arrive I’ll have it disabled. Now that Thunderbird Five is overhead, Alan and EOS are working to get Scott’s exact position; they’ll let you know when they find him.”

“How did you get Thunderbird Five overhead?” Virgil asked suspiciously. “You said it wasn’t possible.”

John was saved from explaining his Thunderbird’s new location by an incoming call from Alan.

“I’ve got him!”

“You’ve got eyes on Scott?” Gordon cut in. “Where?”

“Well, technically I’ve got eyes on Thunderbird One,” Alan amended. “But there’s a single life sign from inside the cockpit and there’s no sign of anyone leaving her, so that has to be Scott.”

The cool voice of logic in the back of John’s head finally stopped its mantra that there was no way Scott could have survived.

“What’s Thunderbird One’s condition?” Virgil asked.

“Looks like a wing broke off on landing,” Alan reported. “The other is fully extended but seems to be still attached. She’s a bit banged up, but apart from the wing she looks like she’s all in one piece.”

“Wait,” Gordon interrupted. “Her wings are extended? But wasn’t she doing Mach 15?”

“Thunderbird One has a manual override on the wings,” Alan reminded them. “Scott must have tried to use them to slow down. That mea-”

John didn’t get to hear what that meant, as a tangible shudder ran through the space elevator, and then both his exosuit and space suit.

Two hundred and fifty miles to go, and the failsafes built into the space elevator in case something went wrong on Thunderbird Five’s end, or with the cable itself, were no longer operational.

Still, he had evidence to prove that Scott was still alive. That was something to hold onto as he descended closer and closer to the sands below.

~~~~~~~~

When John’s data all cut off, leaving him and EOS with nothing except a high resolution camera aimed directly at the top of the space elevator by which to keep an eye on his big brother, reality hit Alan.

It had been easy to supress until then, with John there and grounding him even though they were looking for Scott, but now he was the only Tracy in space – EOS, family as she was, didn’t have a warm body and therefore didn’t count – and with only two of his older brothers in contact, reality came crashing down.

Scott was missing. Thunderbird One had been hit with an EMP while travelling at Mach 15 and had crashed. Alan had seen ugly scenes of plane crashes from much lower speeds, and the sight of his eldest brother’s Thunderbird with a wing sheared off did nothing to quell the rising horror. Even at her low altitude, Thunderbird Five couldn’t get any information about the life sign other than the fact that it existed. All Alan could do was watch the red heart symbol and pray that it stayed there until John disabled the EMP generator and his brothers could reach him.

“Records show that Scott Tracy is resilient,” EOS said suddenly, and Alan spared her a grateful glance. The AI was still learning human emotions, but he knew her well enough to know that she was attempting to reassure him.

It helped. A little.

“How’s the space elevator doing?” he asked, and EOS’ rings flashed white.

“John will be in contact with the ground in approximately two minutes and twenty five point three seconds,” she informed him. “We will need to relocate Thunderbird Five away from this position within nine point five four six minutes.”

“Is something coming?” Alan had hoped they’d be able to remain above the desert for longer, at least until his brothers were with Scott.

“Yes, a satellite will be in this location in eleven point three minutes and I calculate it will take Thunderbirds Three and Five one point seven minutes to clear the collision zone,” EOS informed him. “That will also allow Thunderbird Three to conserve enough fuel to return Thunderbird Five to geostationary orbit, land in the Sahara to collect John after he has succeeded in disarming the EMP generator, relaunch to arrive at Thunderbird One’s current location, and then return to Tracy Island.”

Alan hadn’t actually given a thought to how John was going to get out of the desert. With his communicator now dead, and the space elevator needing retraction, someone was going to have to do it, and Thunderbird Two had to get straight to Scott because that was where their equipment was. With Thunderbird Shadow also out of commission, that left just Thunderbird Three, and a glance at her fuel reserves warned him that it was going to be tight.

But Alan couldn’t just leave John there. With his suit also fried, that meant he had no thermal regulation and he hadn’t taken any water with him. If John had a plan, he hadn’t shared it with Alan, and no matter how much of a genius John was, Alan wasn’t about to trust that he’d had one. Scott’s crash was messing all of them up, even the supposedly unshakable space monitor.

Part 4>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #eos #kayo kyrano #desert sands

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 4 years ago

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Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Seventeen

"Yes, we're finally here!" Prompto cheered as Cid docked the boat in Altissia's harbor. Once the vessel came to a complete halt, the group disembarked and headed toward the city.

Noctis was leading his companions but was stopped when the man guarding the entrance to Altissia called out to him. "Sir! What is the purpose of your visit?"

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of an excuse without giving away who he truly was. "Purpose? Uh..." He looked toward his friends and Cid before deciding to entrust the situation to Pestilence. "(Y/n), a little help."

The ivory-haired girl stepped past Noctis and leaned over the counter, whispering in the man's ear. The boys exchanged glances when they wondered what she could possibly be whispering to the stranger.

Then, a smile blossomed on the gatekeeper's face as the girl pulled away. "Sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am. I hope you have a wonderful time." He opened the gate, allowing everyone through. They waved farewell to Cid as they entered Altissia.

Gladio asked the one question that was on his and the other boys' minds. "What'd you tell him?"

(Y/n) spun around and faced the boys with a grin. "Oh, just a harmless lie."

She went to turn her back and walk further into the city, but the shield grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. He was itching to know the whole truth. "Oh, no. You're not getting away that easily. Tell us what you told him."

"Your curiosity will not let this rest?" She folded her arms across her chest, tapping her finger against her upper arm.

Gladio smirked. "Nope."

"A shame, really," she sighed. "Because my lips are sealed. Your curiosity shall never be quelled."

"What?" Prompto gasped. "I want to know!"

"As I said, my lips are sealed."

Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio groaned in disbelief while Ignis was amused at their reactions. He wanted to know just as much as the others, but he remained silent as he continued to watch (Y/n) torture the others with silence.

<-----------<<<<<

After exploring a small portion of Altissia and eating a proper meal, Gladio suggested searching for the man Cid mentioned on the boat. "You wanna check Weskham's place out?"

"Yeah. "Let's all go to Maagho!"" Prompto responded cheerfully.

"Perhaps we'll even make it in time for tea," Ignis comments.

"Oh," (Y/n) gasped excitedly. "I hope we do. Altissia has quite a selection of flavorful teas. That is one thing I do remember from my first trip here."

"So, Iggy likes coffee and (Y/n) likes tea. What a match," Prompto snorts with laughter.

"Match made in heaven," Gladio snickered, eyeing the couple. "When's the date?"

Pestilence stopped and faced him with a hand on her hip. "Date?"

The shield stared down at the shorter girl. "Heard you and Iggy talkin' about it on the boat."

"Eavesdropping," Ignis corrects the brute.

"So you were listening," (Y/n) sighed. "Regardless if you overheard or eavesdropped, our private affairs are only for our ears."

Gladio looked over at the advisor, nudging him in the side with his elbow. "Think you can handle the lady?"

The tactician adjusted his glasses with a faint sigh, choosing to remain silent. The Horseman glowered weakly at the tattooed man. "What kind of question is that?"

"You're Iggy's first girlfriend."

The snowy-haired girl sighed in disbelief, looking away from Gladio. "Are you insisting Ignis doesn't know how to treat me to a proper date?"

"Far from it. He knows how to handle the ladies, but I don't think he realizes his true potential."

Pestilence placed a hand against the side of her head, heaving another sigh. "What company we keep..."

"Indeed..." Ignis added with his own exasperated sigh.

Gladio didn't hear their mumbling and gestures to an empty awaiting gondola. "Better make this quick so the lovebirds can go on a date."

"Then we better start looking now," Noctis said after a prolonged silence.

<-----------<<<<<

After a lengthy, peaceful gondola ride, the group successfully located Maagho. They stepped off the gondola and entered the bar, immediately being spotted and greeted by the man behind the counter. "Welcome to Accordo, lads and lass. Cid mentioned you'd be dropping in. Weskham Armaugh, as you've gathered." His eyes traveled over to Noctis and smirked lightly. "My word, you've grown, little prince."

Noctis hums in confusion, the man behind the bar ringing no bells in his head. Weskham chuckled at seeing the boy's confused expression. "Ah, but of course-you were only a babe at the time."

The five head over to the bar. (Y/n) sat down directly in front of Weskham, offering the man a gentle smile. "May I ask for your finest cup of tea?"

The man bowed his head slightly. "Right away, M'lady." Weskham disappeared for a couple minutes before reappearing with a hot cup of tea. "Here you are. It's on the house."

She thanked him, blew on the tea, and took a small sip. When she tasted a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, she smiled in delight. "What an exquisite, delectable taste."

Prompto guffawed at her comment. "You sound like Iggy."

"It's a blend I made myself," Weskham proclaims. "I only provide the best for one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

(Y/n) took another sip before setting the porcelain cup onto the matching plate. "I must have a tag with my name and status on it somewhere."

The man shook his head with an amused smirk. "Not at all. Cid gladly informed me of who you were. It's an honor to meet you, Pestilence. The Four Horsemen is one of my favorite stories to tell."

The Horseman looked up from her cup of tea. "I pray such a tale does not frighten away your customers."

"You'd be surprised how many of my customers enjoy the tale as much as myself." He looked toward the others, who sat in the chairs beside Pestilence. "So, this is your maiden visit. Enjoying it so far? You doubtless have many questions, so ask away."

Noctis' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "This country is a part of the empire, isn't it?"

"Morosely, yes..." (Y/n) muttered from in between Noctis and Ignis, her comment going unnoticed by all.

Weskham chuckles at his cautionary question. "You're wary, I understand. But there's no need to jump at every shadow. Just be aware that the terms of our independence grant the empire free reign to come and go as they please."

"We'll bear that in mind," Ignis replied.

"It's admittedly a one-sided arrangement," Weskham confesses. "Most everything we do requires Niflheim's permission, and they wouldn't knowingly permit the Oracle to appear before the public. How our government spun that is quite a mystery. Is there anything else?"

Noctis decided to ask about Lady Lunafreya first. "You really think Luna will make an address?"

Weskham nodded, resting his hands on the countertop. "If every recent radio broadcast is to be trusted, absolutely."

"Where is Lady Lunafreya?" Ignis inquired.

"In the city somewhere, but no one has caught so much as a glimpse of her. The media has been conspicuous in its silence on the matter, which speaks volumes of government intervention. That'd certainly explain the rumors of disgruntled imperial officers leaving the city."

"How suspicious," (Y/n) comments before taking another sip of her tea.

"I'll say..." Noctis muttered in agreement before asking his next question. "So you see lots of Niffs around here?"

"We do," the bar owner answered. "Sometimes even at my place. Theirs is a familiar presence, and the citizens don't think much of it. Though, the high commander did cause a stir when he showed up the other day."

"Ravus..." The soon-to-be king mumbled under his breath.

"Friend of yours?" (Y/n) asked.

"Far from it..."

"The elder brother of Lady Lunafreya," Ignis stated in a slightly hostile tone.

It didn't go unnoticed by the girl. "Not an admirer, I see."

"Hell no," Noctis scoffed.

Weskham continued once the others were silent. "So soon after they felled the Archaean in Lucis, his arrival fuels rumors that they will next come to Altissia. The empire's not content ruling all the land-they want the heavens as well."

"If one tastes the blood of sovereignty, such a thirst shall never be quenched 'til all is conquered," (Y/n) said. "King Aeshema knows such subjugation all too well."

"The daemon king?" The tactician questioned with a tone of bewilderment.

Pestilence nodded. "Yes. The reason why daemons wander Eos at night is to prevent an uprising. King Aeshema forged a contract with his subjects to keep them in check. If the daemons were to ever overthrow His Majesty, the netherworld would crumble and daemons would flock to Eos day and night."

"Couldn't he help us take down the empire? I mean, he's a powerful immortal, too," Prompto chimed in.

The Horseman shook her head with a small frown. "Unfortunately, no. If King Aeshema were to leave Hell, the daemons would run rampant. While they posses a certain level of intelligence, their thirst for control overthrows such perception. The only time the daemon king could possibly leave is when his subjects roam the land of the living, but even that is risky."

"Guess we're on our own then," Noctis sighed. He leant his arms on the countertop, asking his final question. "Is anything changed with Leviathan?"

"For now, it's business as usual at port, but word is the government will soon open the Altar of the Tidemother," Weskham explains.

"In preparation for the rite," Gladio added.

"Ah, but on the other hand, they're scrambling to stockpile emergency provisions. This begs the question: if they're anticipating that the Hydraean will wreak havoc, why would they allow the rite to proceed?"

"If knowing summoning and receiving Leviathan's power would aid in the downfall of the empire, many in governmental affairs would risk all," (Y/n) replied. "Even wrecking the city is a viable option."

"Yeah, but what about the people who live here?" Prompto asked.

"Even knowing the possible outcome of the rite, the government officials will protect their people at any costs."

"Indeed, we would," a person stated calmly. The group and Weskham turned their heads in order to see the owner of the voice.

The bar owner chortled lightly. "My dear Camelia, it's been a while."

Camelia's eyes trailed over to the four boys and girl. "I heard about your distinguished guests."

"Ah, you've an ear for gossip."

"Lady, gentlemen," Camelia rounded the bar, wishing to chat with them. "I won't waste your time nor the time of an immortal. My name is Camelia Claustra."

Ignis knew the woman's status all too well. "First secretary of the Accordo Protectorate."

The first secretary's gaze focused on Noctis. "You should know we have Lady Lunafreya in our care. And the empire demands we surrender her."

The raven-haired boy's eyes widen at the news. "What?"

"Yet I am loath to acquiesce unless we stand to profit. Hence I've come to discuss terms...with the King of Lucis. If you've a mind to talk, come to my estate." With those final words, Camelia left.

Weskham watched the elder woman walk away with a sigh. "She can be oblique at the best of times, but I assure you her heart is in the right place."

"Oh. Okay," the gunslinger muttered.

"At any rate, you must be weary from your journey. Might I suggest you seek your beds for now and ponder matters anew in the morning?"

Noctis nodded in agreement. "Yeah, think we'll do just that."

"Then, to the Leville." (Y/n) finished her tea and led the boys out of Maagho. While the city has changed since her last visit, she still was able to navigate the streets with ease and find the Leville without asking for directions. She stood in front of the hotel with her hands on her hips, the four boys lined up behind her. "Here we are, gentlemen."

"Guess the city hasn't changed much if you were able to find this place without asking for help," Noctis comments.

"There are an abundance of new buildings and businesses, but the street layout is nearly the same as it was a century ago," she explained. "The Leville is where Raiden and I spent our nights after we exhausted ourselves exploring the city. Also, it seems you've a guest, Noctis."

Noctis looked into the lobby and spotted a familiar figure. He entered the Leville as he eyed the woman. "Gentiana."

With sealed eyes, the messenger delivered her cryptic message. "Ahead lies a future uncertain, yet sure is the astral memory, wherein the King may walk." Before the boy could react, she vanished.

Noctis stared at the spot Gentiana once stood as the others stood behind him. Prompto was the first to break the silence. "Well, that was...sudden."

"I expect no less from a divine being," (Y/n) stated.

Noctis turned around to face the girl. "You know Gentiana?"

"She has visited the Inner Sanctum countless of times. We'd chat for hours over tea," Pestilence smiles. "Her wisdom is vast and I find joy in conversing with her."

"I never can understand what she says," Prompto confesses under his breath.

"No need to linger on the subject," (Y/n) said, deciding to change the subject once she heard a small growl from the blonde's stomach. "You four must be famished. Shall we search for an eatery?"

"Definitely," Noctis agreed in a heartbeat. "I'm starving."

"But shouldn't we go and talk to Camelia first?" The gunslinger questioned.

"Yeah, like we have any other option," Gladio stated.

Ignis, on the other hand, opposed visiting the first secretary so soon. "There's no telling how events will unfold. Let us prepare before making our way. I also suggest we find an eatery."

"Yeah, she can sit tight a while. My stomach can't," Noctis said, leaving the Leville lobby with the others in tow.

<-----------<<<<<

After a lengthy, peaceful meal, (Y/n) stood up from the table and wandered over to the edge of the nearby canal. She stared down at the glistening water, watching the sun bounce off the surface.

When she heard a group of scrambling footsteps, she turned around and saw Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio rushing off. She blinked owlishly as she watched them vanish into the streets of Altissia without her or Ignis. She crossed her arms as the advisor sauntered over to her. "My, they seem to be in a hurry."

"It appears so," Ignis sighed in exasperation.

The Horseman offered him an innocent smile, knowing what the three boys had in mind and decided to not waste the time they were graciously given. "Since those three scampered off, we've time for ourselves. Shall we explore?"

"Let's," Ignis simply replied.

The two departed from the eatery and began exploring what all Altissia had to offer.

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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tagsecretsanta · 5 years ago

Text

From Gumnut

to @scattergraph

I don’t own this, full credit to the author above

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Prologue: ‘Twas the week before Christmas

Author: Gumnut

8 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 1437

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic and it is a big one ::headdesk:: I hope you enjoy it. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed researching a gorgeous corner of this planet.

My prompts were:

TAG Christmas pudding contest, points awarded for taste, originality and flammability.

“I don’t care if it’s Christmas…you ARE NOT bringing THAT back to the Island!”

Driving home for Christmas.

I’ll let you work out which I managed to include in this :D

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

And as always, thank you all for creating such a fantastic fandom. Thundernerds rock! I hope you all have a wonderful festive season. Thank you all so much for everything.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Looking back, it really could have happened to any of them. Hell, now it had happened once, it was even more likely it could happen to any of the rest of them, but of course it had to be Virgil and, of course, it had to happen a week before Christmas.

Fortunately, not only Gordon and Alan, but also John was aboard Thunderbird Two when her pilot folded in half with a groan. The great green behemoth responded to his touch and for a second there, the whole ship tipped sideways.

Alan lost his hard-earned sandwich, and Gordon, who had been half asleep in the co-pilot’s chair, despite the coffee he had consumed not five minutes ago, received an adrenalin spike that was well used in the next half an hour or so.

It had been a hard week. Australia was on fire. Every year the drought dried continent suffered and every year International Rescue did all it could to help. Brains had even designed some specialised equipment, deployed through Tracy Industries to help dampen the eucalypt fuel load, but the change of climate over the last hundred odd years had done its damage and the ecosystem suffered for it.

It was painful to watch.

And tiring to fight.

John had taken to coming down not only for Christmas, but for the fires. He had developed a communications network, tied into TB5, to help coordinate the fire services of the country and pin point the hot spots. At the end of the last outbreak, Gordon had been gobsmacked to find his usually reclusive brother sprawled in a chair beside the Australian Fire Defense Network chief, beer in hand, swapping stories.

It had helped that the chief was the middle of five himself and a communications specialist pushed into management. There was much commiseration.

But none of the past really foretold this little hiccup.

Later when Gordon referred to said incident as a ‘hiccup’, Virgil’s eyebrows had frowned so much, they’d physically climbed off his head and slapped Gordon around his.

Or it could have been Virgil’s hand. Gordon was too busy ducking to really identity the body parts his brother was using.

So, with three brothers aboard, Virgil had plenty of back up.

Gordon was fully awake and stabilising Two before he had even had a chance to draw in a breath. They were halfway across the Tasman Sea, finally on the way home for a well-deserved break.

“Virgil?” John was out of his seat and moving towards the pilot.

“Uh, I’m okay.” The man straightened, still in his silver firefighting suit, minus the helmet. A quick look in his brother’s direction and Gordon could see it was all a lie. Even through the soot on Virgil’s face, his brother’s complexion was pale, almost green. “Just a stitch.”

“Doesn’t look like one from here, bro.” Gordon frowned as John gently nudged Virgil back in his seat. The pilot closed his eyes and lay back, his shoulders dropping just a little. John reached over to the console and flicked a couple of switches. Virgil’s vitals sprang up in all their holographic glory.

Even Gordon could see something was seriously wrong. “You have a fever. What the hell, Virg?”

His brother stared at his stats and frowned. “Just thought I was hot.”

No surprise considering the conditions they were working in.

John sighed. “Your suit has active refrigeration, Virgil, you know that. You should be the coolest of all of us.”

If it had been a different situation, Gordon would have then started a ‘discussion’ on who exactly was the coolest or the hottest of the brothers. As it was, another groan from his engineer brother killed all conversation other than medical concern.

“What is it?” John disengaged Virgil’s seat from the dash, pulling it back and giving him access to his older brother.

“My side.” Virgil’s eyes were squeezed shut.

His lower right side.

Five minutes later and Gordon was beelining Two to the nearest hospital, which turned out to be Auckland near the northern tip of New Zealand.

Less than an hour later, Virgil had his very angry appendix removed.

Of all things.

For the past three days, it had been a mixture of firefly pod and fire exo-suit. His brother had been tossing about massive hoses, shifting huge amounts of timber, excavating firebreaks and water bombing from Two.

Apparently, all while suffering from appendicitis.

When Scott arrived on scene, he was a walking facepalm.

When Virgil woke up, it was all kind words for the first hour or so while he recovered from the anaesthetic, but after that, the tongue lashing Scott delivered was enough to strip the paint off the walls of Virgil’s hospital room.

Grandma ended up dragging the man from the room.

Everyone was quiet after that.

No one liked it when Scott got scared.

Least of all Scott.

But even Gordon had to agree that his eldest brother had a point. Appendicitis wasn’t something that didn’t come with symptoms. Virgil admitted that he had noted some pain, but he had been busy. There had been more important things.

Scott’s response to that was only suitable for mature audiences.

Gordon couldn’t help but agree after having to watch his brother writhe in pain on one of his own hover stretchers while they had been on approach to Auckland.

But it had happened when it had happened and everyone was safe, Virgil included. There were much worse scenarios available considering their occupations and the entire family was grateful it had turned out best it could.

Scott was still livid, though, likely because the man was exhausted. They were all exhausted.

Grandma eyed all of them in turn, cornering each of them in their hotel rooms. It didn’t take her more than half a day to conclude that International Rescue needed a well-earned break. Virgil’s illness made a great excuse and her meeting with Scott was short, sharp and to the point.

The Commander of International Rescue contacted the GDF not long after, advising their aunt that their organisation would not be available for the next week. Eos was tasked with redirecting emergency calls after Grandma grabbed John by the scruff of his neck and with an equally sharp word in his ear, grounded the spaceman beside his brothers.

Virgil received a few glares, but the tired man just rolled over awkwardly and went back to sleep. Apparently, he agreed with Grandma.

Always did, the big Grandma softie.

Except perhaps with her cooking, but that led Virgil to being the biggest victim in that department because despite his incapacity to lie, he would do anything for the woman.

Virgil was released from the hospital a day after his surgery and they helped him back to their hotel rooms and set him up with the holoprojector and an appropriate stash of snacks and engineering journals. Kayo even bought him a sketchbook and an array of art materials.

For two days, the brothers hung out with him or darted out to the shops for convenience’s sake. Copious amounts of takeout were consumed, a treat they were often denied on the Island. But ultimately five usually very active men got very bored very quickly.

They couldn’t go home, because Virgil wasn’t allowed to fly. His operation excluded air travel for at least seven days, which meant, to add insult to injury, they would be stuck on the mainland for Christmas Day.

Their first Christmas off in who knew how many years, and they couldn’t even share it at home.

John distracted himself by linking in with Eos and helping out with emergency calls...until Grandma discovered him and rounded on both him and Eos with the ire Scott had managed to inherit.

Both father and daughter behaved after that, Eos a little stunned at the power of the eldest Tracy.

Alan dove into his computer games and hermitized. Gordon could only swim so much, so resorted to pranking Alan, which ended up in the brawl of the century and half the penthouse draped in toilet paper.

Scott turned to Tracy Industries and began phone calls that lasted hours. Virgil sent Gordon to chase him down.

Scott quite frankly ignored him, which led to Virgil hauling himself off the couch and doing the chasing himself.

That led to a screaming match that ended with both men pale when Virgil twisted angrily and groaned as he pulled at his stitches.

The atmosphere plummeted after that and the whole penthouse floor deteriorated into a sullen gloom.

It was shaping up to be an ass of a Christmas.

Until Gordon had an idea.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2019 #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy

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hanalwayssolo · 6 years ago

Text

Date and Time: Ch. 1

A/N: And so here I am with the first chapter of a three-parter reader insert for Ardyn, as commissioned by my lovely pal @valkyrieofardyn who has been kind and patient with me in bringing her story idea to life! In a nutshell, this will involve a time travel AU, some heavy angst, and a chance to turn things around for this dastardly villain.

Tagging them lovely fellas! @raspberryandechinacea @gowithme @blindedstarlight @hanatsuki89 @emmydots @bleucommelhiver @noboomoon @lazarustrashpit @animakupo

Link on AO3

It is the end of a tragic tale. At least, that’s what it all feels like. The decrepit walls of the Citadel stand witness to your devastation. How awfully apt, to be so broken in an equally broken place.

Frankly, you have yourself to blame. The only fool wandering around these empty, sordid halls is you. You hope the ghosts of Lucian kings curse to your shameful sorrow. What a sight it must be to see an ex-Imperial general who had the misfortune of falling in love with their forgotten Lucian royalty. A lamentation seems to be a fitting consolation. All those months of searching every corner of Niflheim and Altissia and Lucis, dedicating all of your resources with nary to waste for one Ardyn Izunia—or Ardyn Lucis Caelum, which, for fuck’s sake, his true name still rolls strangely at the tip of your tongue—only to find out the dastardly deeds of his past. Though that is not as shocking when he tells you that you never meant anything to him. Perhaps you should go back to the throne room and plead Ardyn to kill you instead. Death seems infinitely sweeter a punishment than a broken heart. He should have just stabbed you with a sword right through your chest, instead of leaving you with the ruthless words I do not love you, and I never will.

You cannot help but look back at the time you have spent with him, and the sweet memory of it is a sharp ache that bleeds you dry. How can you have possibly believed that a man such as Ardyn would be so capable to return your affection? He is neither a saint nor a pilgrim. Even at his best, he is not an easy man. He claims he is a monster of his creation, and yet you have chosen not to see the worst in him.

Love can really turn the smartest of men into the dumbest of fools.

You march down the steps of the Citadel, forcing yourself not to turn back around. There is nothing left for you in the ruins of Insomnia, nothing left in the raging chaos that has veiled Eos to perpetual night. The darkness hums. In the silence, time ticks forward. Only the quiet minutes hear your helpless plea as you say, Take me back, take me back, take me back.

It is the eve of the departure for the signing ceremony when you find Ardyn outside your doorstep. In a heartbeat, he pins you back against the wall, the door to your quarters slams shut in shameless violence. A bang that seems to purposely croon an echo that says, Let them hear us. He stares down at you, and you stare back. The moment of silence bears a heavy challenge.

So you let go of any rational thought as your fingers thread through his hair; a slow sweep, and then that sharp tug. A bold move for someone like you, if you dare say so yourself. But at this point, you know how much he likes it. And he lets you know how much when his lips find the crook of your neck, hungry and greedy and desperate for every inch of your skin.

“I’m assuming you had a difficult day with His Imperial Majesty?” you say, stifling a moan that hitches its way out of your mouth.

“Not as difficult as you, my dear,” he whispers against your ear. “Now be a darling and help me get you out of this horrible armour.”

You do not oblige. Instead, your hands first make its way to unbutton his shirt, and he watches you with sheer pleasure as you tug him out of his coat and every layer of his clothing, one after the next. But Ardyn never lets you get ahead. His own hands respond in kind when he begins to do just the same. He has done this way too many times that he already knows each belt and buckle to unfasten. The pauldrons slip, the cuirass drops, the armour unravels. A sharp clang meets the hardwood floor, a sound that now bellows an invitation: Let us put on a show.

But frankly, this is hardly a show. If anything, this has always been a competition neither of you are winning. As far as you are concerned, this was only supposed to be a one night affair. Nothing more. You know very well how this would jeopardize your position as the Brigadier General in the Imperial Army.

And of all the people to have these amorous trysts with, you just had to pick the Chancellor of Niflheim.

You brush your thumb across his bottom lip. “So much for being discreet, aren’t we?”

Ardyn says nothing, but the sultry smirk on his face speaks volumes. He only propels you to your bed, pushing you back against the sheets, peeling you off from the rest of your garments, piece by urgent piece. In that moment, whatever formalities or gentlemanly grace he possesses, he no longer bears it. He lays it all at your feet. You watch him as he kneels before you, spreading your legs apart, pressing kisses on your inner thighs. The heat of his breath lingers on your skin.

“If only these fools could hear you like this,” he says, as he finally dips a finger inside you, one that he matches with the clever movement of his mouth.

Your voice cracks to a helpless whimper, your body wilts into his touch. On and on, he curls his fingers in and out, circling at a blinding pace; his tongue, rough and hungry for your taste. This man has only known you for months, and yet he has mastered all the tricks to make you bend into his will. He wields this knowledge of you like a blade, whetted sharply for your pleasures. Gods forbid, you know how he is determined to use this against you until you sing his name over and over—

“Ardyn, please. Inside me. Now.” The command leaves you in an exhausted moan as you struggle to pull yourself up, your hand catching a fistful of his hair.

He pulls away, positively amused. He takes your hand, nibbles at the base of your palm. A devilish smile crosses his face. “I can’t quite hear you, my dear—“

“I’m bloody serious,” you say with an impatient groan, “I’m going to kill you if you don’t—“

“Now, General—let’s not resort to violence, shall we?” Ardyn hauls himself up, settles his body between your legs, but he does not heed your command. Yet. Instead, he hovers over you, treading the landscape of your flesh with teasing, open-mouthed kisses. He cruises the wave of your waist, the valley of your breasts, the ridge of your collarbones. He sinks his teeth at the skin on your neck when he spreads you even wider, pushing himself inside you.

With bated breath, a gasp breaks out of your lips, while your name spills on his in a breathless chant. Your legs lock around his waist as the tempo of his thrusts grow into a maddening rhythm. The beat of his hips against yours is nothing less intoxicating. Night after night, you realize that this is how the two of you make music: dipped in a passionate fire, both artist and arsonist, each grunt and groan a melody meant to be burned into memory. And you want this. You have always wanted this, and you have always wanted him.

All spent and sated, Ardyn crashes on the bed, his body on top of yours. He rolls on his back and takes you along with him. You rest your head on his chest, still catching your breath. For a moment, you let the silence linger; you find yourself drawn to the uneven sound of his heartbeat when he says, “I hope you don’t mind if I stay over.”

His suggestion startles you that you sit up in an instant, dragging the sheets up to your chest. “I beg your pardon but—what? Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Ardyn props himself up by his elbows. “I just want to, is all.”

“But you never stay over. It’s always fuck and go, remember?”

“You make it sound like what we have is a terrible arrangement.” Ardyn laughs, taking your hand in his. “Surely we can make minor amendments to that?”

The way he calls this as simple as an arrangement slightly stings that you pull your hand away from him. A strange expression passes over his face. You eye him warily, one eyebrow raised with suspicion. “But why?” you ask again.

Ardyn sighs. “Is it so terribly inappropriate for me to want more than just to fornicate and would prefer wanting some amiable company for a night?”

“Really—fornicate?” You stifle a bubbling laughter. Sometimes, Ardyn’s choice of words in his day to day vernacular can be oddly archaic, one that you find strangely amusing. “I can’t decide if you’re painfully formal or simply too old.”

“I’d say both,” Ardyn admits noncommittally. “I am a very old man, after all.”

“Well, you certainly do not fuck like one.”

“My, how vulgar. So—“ he pulls you back to his chest that you squeal in surprise— “shall I take that as a yes?”

You hold his gaze a little longer than you should. The logical part of you begs for you to say No, leave me be, let’s end this here before it turns into something else. The fear of that something else torches your throat dry. Because the truth is, what should have ended after one evening of an arrangement have already spiraled into weeks and months in your bed—or his, if you count the rare occasions he has let you in his personal bedchamber. One night should have been enough. It never should have gotten this far. It never should have ended up with this night where you punctuate the insignificance of this nameless affair by considering if he could stay over, not when the real question you should be asking is if he could stay in your life—

“Only for tonight,” you say quickly, sealing the deal with a feathery kiss, as if hoping the gesture will dismiss the troublesome train of thought away.

But had you known the circumstances that lie ahead, you would have done things a little bit differently. Perhaps, you would have kissed him harder. You would have let him stayed without any reservation. You would have permitted yourself to indulge this short time you had together. You would have said the things you have always wanted to say, and then you would not have spent the next months tormented with regret.

It is the eve of his departure. Still, even on a night like this, being with you never fails to make Ardyn a little ill at ease with a troublesome thought. What makes it particularly troublesome is that it is as nebulous as a foggy day in Gralea; he struggles to grasp the right words to shape his restlessness into meaning. One might say that it is a strange occurrence for a man such as Ardyn, who takes pride in his own eloquence, who is always charmingly articulate, the sort of fellow who never minces his words. But this predicament of his holds his vocabulary hostage. What he knows for a certainty that this has everything to do with you.

If Ardyn were to be honest—and mind you, he somehow considers himself quite an honest man, heavens forbid—he would admit that the only reason why he wanted to stay over is to be with you. Not to fuck—as you would so casually put it—but to simply relish each other’s company. And if he were to be really honest, he would also admit that he adores the smallest of things about you. Best believe he is drawn by the scent of your hair, the sound of your laughter, your clever mouth sharpened by your wit, and the sweet taste of your kiss that beckons a strong desire to be closer to you. He does not understand why these things seem to matter to him. All he knows is that a vague longing in him stirs. A burning need for you seethes. Would it be so wrong of him to watch over you while you sleep, to hold you in his arms for a night?

Perhaps the object of his restlessness is less of a thought and more of a feeling.

And perhaps it bothers him so because it has been a long while since Ardyn felt things.

A long while would be a gross understatement for all those countless millennia. All those years—those wretched immortal years—Ardyn has long abandoned the notion of affection, intimacy a concept that no longer bears any meaning. He is now a foreigner to trivial things such as these. He has been far too accustomed to the company of his emptiness, of anger and fury, of cold indifference. This is all that he has left.

And yet, with you…

Ardyn heaves a sharp sigh. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as he watches the steady rhythm of your breaths, the rise and fall of your chest. He presses a kiss on your forehead before he gets dressed, leaving you in this lonesome night without another word.

A woman is standing at the end of the Citadel steps that you are almost convinced that the ghosts of Lucian royalties of yore have answered your call. But the woman appears neither royal nor ghostly; she looks plain as any old civilian, white hair and pale face and all.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” you ask, purely out of concern. In the midst of the darkness, her eyes are piercing blue, and you slowly notice the quiet boldness that emanates from her graceful face. “It’s dangerous to be out here on your own—”

“You came here for Ardyn, have you not?”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what if I have?”

“Then I have come to seek the right person,” the woman says unsmilingly.

“What do you mean? Who are you?” you ask again, firmly holding her gaze. Far ahead, a gust of wind billows.

“A Messenger of the Bladekeeper,” the woman answers. “You can call me Johanna. And I’m here because I want to ask you a favour.”

You cast her a wary and immensely suspicious glance. You must say, you admire her boldness to come this far on her own with a favour, but also for her ridiculous claim to be a Messenger of the Gods. And of Bahamut, even.

“So, Messenger of the Bladekeeper,” you repeat as you circle Johanna, studying her from head to foot, “how can a mortal such as myself possibly help you? You, who have all the power at your disposal?”

“You have every right to doubt my intentions,” says Johanna tactfully, unflinching. “But you and I are after the same person. I am also here for Ardyn, but not in the same way you are here for him. I cared for that child before he was a man grown, and I have been far too complacent—and complicit—to the will of the gods had in store for him. I will carry that shame in all my immortal days.”

“So what now?” you challenge, folding your arms over your chest. “You seek to defy the gods to save that lonely man who sits on the throne without a kingdom to rule over? Is that it?”

“Indeed. Whatever punishment the gods have for me, I am prepared to pay the price.” Her voice is strong and sharp, and unsettlingly so. “And I am certain that you, too, would do the same for him.”

You consider Johanna for a moment. “And what would you have me do?”

The expression on Johanna’s face remains blank with expression. “I’m afraid we have to go back to the very beginning,” she says, and the last thing you hear is the snap of her fingers before the world shifts to a blinding white.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ardyn izunia #ardyn x reader #my writing #writing commissions

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sky-writes-daydreams · 6 years ago

Text

How They Met Chapter 16

A/n: So seeing how long it’s been since I updated before yesterday, I decided to go ahead and update again. :) Also I just realized I forgot to tag anyone. I am so sorry. My head’s been all over the place lmao

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @blindedstarlight @lola-mcevil13

Next Chapter Masterpost

It took less than an hour. I’ll be honest, I didn’t obey speed laws at all. Ardyn didn’t seem to care. He was a lot calmer now and openly talked to me. He could remember spots in this area that no longer existed. He even told me about the taelpar crag and the legend of how it was made. I loved listening to him like this. Soon we pulled into my little area and I parked next to his car. He looked over then and smiled.

“You sure you want me to see inside?”

“Um… Yeah. I just cleaned up last week. No dust or mice…. It’s company ready. Chancellor ready? Not so much.” He laughed then and I smiled getting out. I took my gear in with me after unlocking the door.

“Holy six…. Is this a house or a library?” I looked back and Ardyn was standing in the door stunned. I had over five bookcases in my living room filled with books all neatly organized and freshly dusted. My tv was in the middle of two of them on it’s stand with all my movies near my couch and coffee table.

“Both.” I got my boots off then and he came in and did the same. We left them by the door and I left my stuff by the kitchen.

“Help yourself. Cold drinks in the fridge plus food.” He nodded then. He was checking one of the bookcases out. I smiled then.

“You read?”

“Not as much as I used to… I’m still a lover of books though. This is quite a collection.”

“It was my dad’s.” He stopped then and I saw the worry. I smiled then.

“When they died… Dave found his will. Dad left this place for me so when I was old enough, I could move back home. Dave lived here for a bit and fixed a few things but once I could, I moved in. Found all of these in the second bedroom in like… five trunks. So I brought them out…. Seems the old man loved books too.” He nodded then and smiled. I just smiled and we relaxed.

I got into the shower once I knew he was settled with a book and came out to a shocking sight. He was just in his white shirt and dress pants. His other clothes were on the back of the couch and he was stretched out reading. I laughed a bit and he looked up. I was in a baggy shirt with my sleep pants on and my wet hair on a towel around my neck.

“Dressed to impress are we sky?”

“Only if you want to match.”

“I’m thinking about it.” I leaned on the couch above him then and smiled.

“You got clothes?”

“In my car, Yes.” He closed the book gently then and smiled.

“Mind if I try to sleep here today?”

“Gods no. want breakfast first?” He shook his head then and I smiled.

“Too tired?”

“Pretty much.” I laughed then and he got up. I could see how well built he was like this. He stretched too and I almost started drooling. He Noticed then and smiled.

“Like what you see?”

“You better sleep without a shirt on…” He crooked an eyebrow then and I smiled.

“I wanna feel. Nothing more.”

“Fair enough.” He walked out then and came back quickly with a small duffel. I was blow drying my hair in the bathroom when he came in. He went to the second room and I glanced over. The door was cracked. I saw him stripping off the shirt and I almost dropped the hairdryer. Scars. They were all over his back and chest but by all the gods, those muscles! I quickly refocused once he went to change pants. I was beet red too. I could see it in the mirror. The door opened then and he came into the doorway.

“You got that up too high or something?” I turned it off then.

“Just a bit…. Um….” I looked over and I was freaking out. This man was nothing but six foot two of pure gorgeousness. He noticed I was staring and smiled. Even with the slight amount of hair on his chest, Those muscles were defined and perfect.

“Skylar.”

“What?”

“Did you get a back view?”

“I saw the scars….”

“Further down.” I yelped then going red.

“No!!! You jerk! You left the door cracked on purpose!” He laughed then and I grabbed my towel to snap him with it. He dodged and I chased him into my room before tackling him and making him hit the queen size bed. I was on top and just play hitting him.

“Ego flirt!”

“Pervy Child!”

“I’m not a child!”

“Compared to me you are!”

“Compared to you, ifrit’s a kid!” He gasped then and I faked gasped.

“You did not just call me older than a god!”

“Oh my gods I think I just did!” I got a pillow then and slammed him with it. He laughed then before rolling and pinning me to the bed. I had to stop then. He looked down at me with those perfect eyes and smiled.

“Feel better?”

“Um….” I reached then and with a small wiggle got a handful of his ass. He jumped then and I smiled. I was right. Pure glorious muscle perfect for anything.

“Now I do.” He sighed then and let me up. I quickly closed the curtains and made sure the front door was locked before climbing into bed next to him. He was on his back and easily made room so I could curl up on his chest. I did so willingly and just relaxed.

“So… Any other secrets you have?”

“Um…. no I think we’re ok.” I nodded closing my eyes.

“So…. Does that mean I need to call you your majesty?”

“No….. Just… Call me whatever you normally do.”

“Crazy? Old? Drop Dead Gorgeous? Cinnabum?” He jumped at the last one and I tired to hide the giggles.

“Cinna… bum?”

“You like cinnamon rolls…. And have a really nice ass.”

“Six….” I died laughing then because he face palmed. It was just the ticket it seems. I got comfy again and went to sleep laying on him. I was the happiest I had been in a long time.

I woke up in a panic again. I couldn’t even remember why but the panic was there. I quickly looked around and I was home. The sun was going down outside from what I could see from the crack in the curtains on the side. I looked back where I was laying and the spot next to me was empty. I could tell where someone had been sleeping there so I knew it wasn’t a dream. I got up then and quickly threw on one of my flannels over my sleep shirt. Once outside of my room, I could hear someone in the kitchen humming before talking.

“I do understand that commander, but seeing how I am currently occupied, It’s not happening.”

“And what is it that you’re doing that is so important?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out later. Now please…. I’m hanging up.”

“Very well… I’ll inform them of your current occupation.”

“Thank you.” I heard a beep then as I walked in and smiled.

“Pissed off ravus again?” He looked up then and smiled.

“Yes Afraid so. He wanted me to leave tonight for Altissia.” I stopped then.

“I’m not leaving for another few weeks…. His dear sister hasn’t even made it over there yet.” I walked over slowly then.

“So you think he’s going now to help her?”

“I know he is.” The timer on my Oven went off then and he beamed.

“Finally!” I laughed then leaning over the counter.

“What?” He got a glove on and soon pulled out a pan.

“Brownies!? Where did you even find the mix!?”

“I didn’t. You had everything here for homemade ones.” I looked up at him then and he stopped.

“What?”

“You bake?”

“And Cook. I’ve been alive this long, I’ve had to take care of myself. I learned quite a bit.” I laughed then and soon ran across and hugged him from behind. He had put on more cologne when he changed clothes. I inhaled it and instantly everything was ok. The residual panic had faded with that inhale.

“Easy…. You ok?”

“Better now….”

“Bad dream?”

“I guess… woke up panicked… you were gone so I came looking….” I laughed a bit then.

“Never expected brownies…”

“Hm… Well sounds like they’re needed. Plus… Real food.” I heard him make a weird ass sound and I cracked up. He turned in my arms then and gently picked me up in a hug. I didn’t even argue. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled.

“You sleep ok?” I whispered close to his ear.

“Better than ever…. Woke up because of the call and had to call him back once I switched my chest out for a pillow. You barely moved…” I smiled then.

“Hard to want to move when I had the best pillow in eos.” He laughed then and I felt him put me on the counter. I didn’t want to let go but he made me. I pouted a bit before he gave me a kiss. I perked up then and kissed back getting a hold on his shirt. Only I realized why he did it. I let go then as it hit me and he smiled.

“What?”

“You’re…. Damn it you’re not that much taller than me!!!” Cue gut busting laughter. He honestly stumbled back laughing as I jumped off the counter pouting.

“I’m getting into real clothes!!! You big bully!!!” He couldn’t stop laughing. I walked out then trying to fight the smile that was coming to my face. At least he had a real sense of humor.

Dinner that night was brownies with ice cream followed by shit movies. He stayed well into the night. Anytime I sat close, he wanted me close to his side so more often than not, I ended up curled up against him just talking about stuff and asking him questions about things. He answered as many of them as he could from what he remembered. He did miss a bit due to his stint on the island. It was so relaxed that when it came time for him to leave… I didn’t want him to. I walked out to his car with him. He was still dressed more casual than normal. He leaned on the hood then and smiled.

“I had fun… Best Date I’ve been on in a while.”

“Better than Galdin quay?”

“Oh that counts? Hm… Yes.” I chuckled then and he smiled.

“I’ll be back by…. I’ll call before dropping in though. I swear.”

“I don’t care if you do…. There’s a spare key in one of the garden blocks. It has the snail on it. Come in and relax…. Even if I’m not here. Maybe I’ll be home more often if you were here.”

“Oh instead of your week long hunting trips? That would be an improvement.”

“Hey!” I went to kick his shin but he laughed and dodged. I smiled then.

“Seriously though….”

“I’ll remember that hon. I promise… With them pushing the trip to Altissia….” He groaned then and I smiled.

“Empire isn’t anywhere around here. As long as they can’t track your phone, it’s safe.” He nodded then.

“Good point…. So… See you tomorrow?” I laughed then and he smiled.

“It’ll be soon…. Otherwise I’ll call ok?” I nodded then and got a hug from him. It was nice and tight. I didn’t want to let go at all though and he knew it.

“Come on…. It’s not for forever….”

“I know…. I’m just clingy. That’s all.”

“Noticing… but that’s ok. I like it.” I smiled then before he made me let go.

“I’ll call you tomorrow…. Stay safe.” I nodded then and gave him a quick kiss.

“Don’t piss anyone else off…. Ok?”

“Damn it… Take away all my fun.” I laughed then and he smiled.

“I’ll behave for you… My sweet little huntress.” He gently caressed my face and I could have almost cried from how it made me feel. We were moving so fast and yet… it was just right for us.

“Loving king….” He faltered then but I saw the truth.

“I like that…. Will that make you my sweet queen…?”

“Ask me that again when we see each other again…” He nodded then and we both heard it. His phone was going off. He sighed then and I smiled.

“You better get that…”

“Yeah… Be good Skylar.”

“You first Ardyn.” He smiled as he got into his car and started it up before answering.

“Ah. General Tummelt, lovely to hear from you.” He had that Chancellor voice going on. I had to hide my smile behind my hand. He rolled his eyes a bit as he backed out.

“Yes I’m still in lucis…. Well I will tell you why. I’m following that idiot prince seeing how you decided to abandon your post in favor of following that commodore around.” I snorted then and he looked up. I tried to stop but it was impossible. He groaned then and I died laughing. He soon hit a button and yelled out.

“Damn it hon!!! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“I know! I’m sorry! Just…” I got it to stop and soon faked it.

“Ah General Tummelt, you blonde twit!” I mimicked him and he choked. I lost it then.

“You’re such a fake!!!”

“Oh…. Just go inside!” I saluted then as he pulled out. I just smiled shaking my head before heading in. I wanted another brownie before I binged watched some more movies.

#writing #sky writes #ardyn x oc #ardyn izunia #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction

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buns-with-a-book · 7 years ago

Text

Sea Breeze

I’m a simple writer. I like fluff. I make fluff.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: OC (self-insert), Ardyn Izunia/Ardyn Lucis Caelum

Tags: @nimnox @mccreeandme (Hi! I’m the anon who sent my worries about making a self-insert fic! Here’s the finished product)

Summary: Cassandra Aurelia, personal assistant to Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, enjoys a nice summer soiree with her boss in Galdin Quay.

~~~

Cassandra Aurelia glanced to her golden watch, an antique from a dearly departed ancestor, with a look of mild impatience. Her boss, Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflhiem, was late. She looked up and sighed, her bespectacled blue-green eyes scanning the street and gazing down to the distant Galdin Quay. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the little hotel they were staying at, she could smell the sea salt in the air from a light updraft, the breeze ruffling her dark brown coat. Despite the warm weather, she was still dressed as if she was still in Niflheim, the only difference being a darker color scheme.

Her dark brown coat, edges lined with fur, hung off her shoulders. Underneath was a blue tartan dress, a decorative belt around the waist, and the hemline reaching to her knees. Covering her hands and forearms were dark brown gloves. Gracing her legs was diamond-patterned stockings, matching well with the high heels she wore. They tied the outfit together, being the same color as her coat. In her hand was a beige handbag, containing her note-taking tablet (one of the first things she bought with her pay, as her normal handwriting was a mess to put it nicely) and other necessities for travel around Eos.

“Where, in all of Eos, could you be…” She muttered, scanning the horizon for any sign of the chancellor. “If we’re late to this soiree I swear…”

“You’ll swear what?” She gasped and spun around, face to face with the very man she had been waiting for.

“Chancellor Izunia!” She exclaimed from surprise. It didn’t take her long to compose herself. “C-Chancellor, we’re going to be late to the soiree!” He hummed and looked thoughtful about her worries of being late.

“I think we’ll arrive just in time.” He said with that cheeky smile that infuriated her. If there was anything she could dislike about her enigma of a boss, it was always the flippant attitude he had about everything.

“With all due respect, chancellor, we’re five minutes late from when we were supposed to depart.” She said, trying to restrain herself from adding more sarcasm than was necessary. She was hired for ‘saint-like patience’ as she put it on her resume. There was many a time that the chancellor tested that patience in the year she worked under him. She sighed as he sauntered off with a shrug towards the hotel’s parking lot. Following him closely, she pulled out her phone to check the schedule for the day. “Soiree...call High Commander Nox Fluret for that meeting that had to be rescheduled…” She murmured as she entered Ardyn’s car. She glanced to her boss briefly to see him enter the car before feeling something rest on her head. A soft noise of surprise escaped her and her hand rushed up to see what rested upon her head, feeling a familiar black fedora resting there. It didn’t take long for her to realize that he plopped his fedora on her head as if she was a hat rack. She sighed, as this wasn’t the first time that he casually placed his hat on her head, and gave him an irritated look for startling her.

“Now now, don’t give me that.” He chuckled as he started the car.

“At this point, it’s no use reminding you that I’m your assistant, not a hat rack.” She grumbled, leaning back against the carseat.

“But you wear my hat so well.” He teased. Cassandra was quiet but a blooming warmth crept onto her cheeks. She glanced away, earning a laugh from him as he began to drive his way down to Galdin Quay.

---

Cassandra always held a fondness for Galdin Quay, the perfect image of a high-end seaside resort. She remembered family vacations to Lucis, where the resort was the big finisher before they returned home to Niflheim. It was a shame that she could no longer return to Galdin Quay as annually as she used to, due to her job, shrewd monetary habits, and work ethic. As they approached, Cassandra’s gaze drifted to the distant Angelgard. She always wondered what lay within the mysterious mass of land, aside from the tales of the island where ‘gods once convened’. Lost in her thoughts, she was only vaguely aware that they arrived. She was roused when Ardyn effortlessly plucked the hat off her head and out of her protective grasp. She gasped softly and looked around in a panic before seeing her boss place the fedora on his head.

“Thank you.” He chirped before getting out of the car. Cassandra nearly scrambled out of his car to follow him. “I’d like you to settle in the restaurant for a little bit. I have some business to deal with.” He said, his gaze resting towards the restaurant.

“Business? And it doesn’t involve me?”

“No, not this time. You work hard enough as is.” He smiled. “And I thought you’d revel in the chance to not do work.”

“What can I say? I get concerned about you when you go off on your own.” She said before gasping softly. “Shoot, I shouldn’t have said that…” She murmured, earning a laugh from Ardyn.

“Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll behave myself.” He said, reaching over to pat her shoulder. Cassandra looked over at him, staring into his amber eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Ok. Please don’t throw an international crisis on my plate. I won’t be the only person upset in Niflheim.” She said before running off to the restaurant. Heading to the bar, she quickly ordered the Sea’s Bounty Risotto for herself before pausing. She hadn’t seen the Chancellor eat since she woke up. There was always the possibility that he ate a bagel or a muffin or something from some bristo that opened up at the crack of dawn. She glanced to the clock, noting it was early afternoon. After a few moments of internal debate, she added the White Fish in Tomato Sauce dish for him. Heading to a table near the edge of the restaurant, where sea met the wood holding the restaurant up, she sat down and stared off into the summer sky. As she slowly ate, she reminiscenced on her early days at Niflhiem at Ardyn’s side. Through early mornings and late nights, she managed to keep up with his busy schedule. It helped that he wasn’t bad company to be around and she had worse bosses to deal with in the past. The chancellor was a breath of fresh air, with his humorous air and civility that only barely teetered into teasing, and it helped that he didn’t look too bad. Even if he was fond of using her as a hat rack...but she had to admit, in the quiet of her little corner of the restaurant, that she didn’t mind being a hat rack for a few minutes. She let out a heavy sigh, her fork lazily playing with her food.

“For me?”

She jumped, looking up to see Ardyn slide into the chair effortlessly.

“Yes, for you. I didn’t see you get breakfast and soiree’s only have like little sandwiches and stuff. Nothing filling.” She said.

“I’m flattered.” He hummed.

“Because I care?” She asked. He chuckled and took a bite. A small swell of pride filled her heart when she heard his hum of approval.

“I suppose now’s the time to tell you that there isn’t a soiree today.” She blinked in confusion and looked at Ardyn.

“So all my worrying was for...nothing.”

“No need to sound so forlorn. Something else going on today.” He said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what looked to be rock crystals on sticks in a cute hot pink carnival-hued package. He set them down next to her. She stared at the packaged candy, to Ardyn, then back to the candy.

“...I don’t get it.” She said, her voice deadpan.

“A year of loyal service, my dear. Most don’t last longer than a few months.”

“...Isn’t it usually five years of loyalty or something?” Cassandra asked, looking down at the rock candy. “...actually, any reason to go to Galdin Quay is fine by me.” She admitted with a smile. “Even if you made me panic this morning.” She said as she took the rock candy and put it in her bag.

“How many times have you told me I made you panic?” He asked, his voice playful.

“Enough for you to know better at this point.” Cassandra replied, humming as she ate the risotto. “But you do it anyway.”

“You love it.” He chuckled as a gentle sea breeze wafted through the restaurant. Her gaze flicked to him, watching the breeze catch his wine-colored hair.

“...only when I find you safe and sound.” She said softly. If anyone would be the death of her, it would be Ardyn Izunia. And a part of her wondered if she’d actually mind.

#ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #ardyn x oc #ffvx #final fantasy xv #first time writing Ardyn #I tried my best

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miluette · 7 years ago

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Ignoct Week Day 4 ~ Fatebending

(For @ignoctweek -- Every week is Ignoct Week in my heart. I struggled with finishing this for multiple reasons, but I’m calling it done now. There are tense switches and probably still errors in spite of that.)

Simple: Injury Situational: Noctis is the one who goes blind instead of Ignis

(Thankfully, both prompts are kind of the same thing…)

Rating: E10+ Tags/Warnings: injury, blindness, Episode Ignis spoilers, tangentially domestic ending

“If thy will is true, thou shalt wear this ring and lose your life, but not also without cost to the King Himself.”

Ignis, surrounded by the Rulers of Yore, stares up at the cold, unfeeling mask of the Mystic. “What cost should he incur? I told you I will pay the price!”

“The Anointed still wieldeth the power of our Star, a power unequal to all of life upon it. From Him we shalt take His sight.”

“No!”

“Then burn as others before you.”

“No -- I -- I won’t let him die, not for this! It’s not right! It’s not...fair!”

“Our concern is the fate of the Star,” says the Fierce.

“You’re taking everything from him! Even this world--”

“It is thou who interfereth with fate.”

Ignis throws his gaze to his feet. Will Noctis ever forgive him? Not knowing he has to die, but eventually, someday, somehow, knowing that Ignis’s actions cost him his sight… Will Noctis even stand to be around him anymore?

What hurts more: the world without Noctis, or Ignis’s world without Noctis?

Yet true is it that there is no decision to be made. Fate be damned, the world will have Noctis, and Noctis will have the world. The Prince will regain his life. Noctis will live on to love again, to rest peacefully, to have children who would carry on his legacy. Noctis deserves no less.

Eyes rising again slowly, they meet the Mystic with a determined pain. “So be it.”

The Rulers’ voices boom as one. “The contract is forged. The ring is now thine to control.”

“...Forgive me, Noct.”

…

For Noctis, it wasn’t painful. He came to, and all he opened his eyes to was a thick, deep darkness.

Luna’s light had left him. Everything lay in ruin around him, no signs of an Altar, an Altissia.

Darkness.

Yet, his friends were there. All but one.

It was days more before they found Ignis. Rushing across vast distances, Ravus commanded an entire army against the missing Chancellor. “Wherever he is, you’ll find Ignis,” he had said.

As an airship split the sky, Noctis’s friends were forced to explain what had happened. Only Gladiolus had known the full truth. The Shield could hardly look at his Prince -- not that it would have mattered. Fading eyes unseeing, Noctis couldn’t measure his brother’s pain, not so long as the Shield kept his voice steady, struggling against deep-seeded and aching gasps that came with the memory of his foretelling.

Awe would simply bring Prompto to silence. His hand seldom left Noctis’s shoulder. Never had he felt smaller, yet he who would soon Ascend as the Chosen made it known that Prompto mattered more to him now than ever in these dark times, a friend ever at his side in spite of all that had happened.

When finally he had gotten a moment to himself, Noctis had nearly vomited.

He had faltered in his true responsibility, and this was where it had led them. His only family. The only people he loved. Condemned to suffering, dying. Sacrificing what little they had left, tearing away their very essence.

For what? For him? He who had neglected to care for himself for so long? He who had spent more time playing video games than leading people?

But there had been no time for this self-pity. There had been no time for him to run his mind back through all the missteps that led to this moment, nor was there time to mourn. No; a King’s vision extended beyond his eyes, and his power extended to all of those who he loved. Ignis...was still alive. He could feel it in the sparks about his skin. Ignis had still been fighting for his life. So, too, would he fight for Ignis.

…

Noctis feels an immense power bend to his will. It isn't like the hollow void of melancholy he’d felt as he parted ways with Ravus, leaving him to tend to his dear sister. In the liminal space created by a single man's passion, ruin lying in the wake of the Crystal, he feels something entirely new awaken beneath his skin.

The power of life.

In his arms, Ignis, body ashen, lies succumbing to this power, the grips of Eos delivering him from the brink.

As his consciousness returns, the first thing he sees is Noctis’s eyes, pale as an overcast day, determined yet sharp between thick strands of jet black hair. He notices that the Prince wears his birthright before their hands slip away from each other’s.

“Noct…”

“I’m going to fix everything, Iggy.”

“Heal yourself, Noct…”

The form of the Crystal's power edges around Ignis’s face, illuminating a jaw still set strongly in spite of his strife, eyes full of concern. All the sounds -- the Crystal’s radiant pulsing, Gladiolus’s uneven breath, Prompto’s fidgeting -- go quiet as Noctis is enveloped with this new sight.

Yes.

This is his Ignis.

Ignis had given up the world for him.

Noctis presses his forehead to Ignis’s, feeling as the warmth and light return to him. As he pulls away, Ignis's eyes fall on him, and Noctis smiles.

“Wait for me.”

…

Ignis found it somewhat hard to live with himself for a while. That’s why his friends had come together for him. On certain days, he wouldn’t even trust himself, and the others wouldn’t leave him alone with his thoughts. Together, in unison, they moved forward and completed the work their future King had started, traveling the land, rallying the remnants of the Glaive, strengthening themselves.

When the King finally returned, he emerged to a world made darker in his absence. He followed the light on the horizon, the call of his friends, the pull of his heart.

For as he slept for ten long years, he felt someone with him, a soul-visitor. In sharing this Ring, the divine right of the blood of Lucis Caelum, Ignis had bonded with him. Planes drift closer in slumber, and two minds nearly become one.

“I’m here.”

When their consciousness had drifted together, when by spirits outstretched and ephemeral fingertips touching their minds could meet, they sought to remind each other that there was an end to this separation. There was light beyond the dark shroud of the Star.

There had been a plan.

And when the sun rose again, they had their King. And when the sun shone upon him, all he wanted was Ignis’s frame bathed in citrus hue. Gone were kings past, though what remained was their scar. Gone was any sense of the eye that once drew a shape of sculpted jawlines and arched cupid’s bows, delineated the arc of thin glasses frames with seafoam eyes behind them. What remained was the memory of a feeling etched into his skin, flaring in the warmth of daylight as lips again met.

Ignis had Noctis’s love.

…

“Why did you do it?”

The question comes decades after Noctis has settled into the throne and Lucis has regained some of its luster.

“Pardon?”

It comes over breakfast, another of Ignis’s innumerable, loving creations. Noctis enjoys chocobo-shaped pancakes even without sight.

That he would ask this question now… “It’s just amazing to me,” Noctis says, tone almost matter-of-fact. “For a while, I thought I’d lost it all. But...here we are. We have a home. A family. A world. It’s thanks to you. I...think about it every day, but I never say it, do I?”

“I believe you say it multiple times a night.”

Noctis waves his hand with a light chuckle. “Ignis… You nearly died.”

Noctis hears the clatter of Ignis’s silverware as the man resumes finishing off his plate. “Hurling myself at a catoblepas for food money and putting on the Ring of the Lucii aren’t much different from each other, in the scheme of things.”

Noctis laughs, a genuine and loud sound that makes Ignis’s heart swell, each and every time.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” A hard grin parts a well-kept and greying beard with eyes to match. Noctis stands to walk to Ignis’s side of the table, fingers gliding along the edge. “I always knew you had a secret wild side.” As the King places himself in the other king’s lap, Ignis almost automatically wraps his arms around his waist. “Only you could have pulled off something like that.”

“Only you could have set things right. I always believed in you. Though, I thought for certain that you would be...upset.”

“Upset’s one way to put it. One could hardly argue with the outcome, though.”

“If I could’ve wrapped my arms around you like this--”

“I felt you in my heart. It made things easier. Like...way easier. Besides, how long’s it been? I’ve been wrapped in your arms every night since.”

It is true: Ignis had wanted to impress upon Noctis his shape, never let him forget the feel of his embrace, the warmth of it. As the light of the Kings’ power now lights the sky, Noctis has also burned the memory of Ignis’s face into his mind’s eye, lest his inner vision remain dark.

Hair that dances like fire. Eyes that bring him to calm. Speckled skin as if each dot were placed by the paintbrush of the gods. A smile that had pierced his heart the moment he’d seen it with the ethereal vision that no one else possesses.

How it matched his memory of their first meeting.

Ignis lights up his world.

“So, you're saying that apologizing now would be silly?”

Noctis laughs. “I love you.”

He refuses to forget.

#ignoct #ignoct week #ignoctweek #ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #ffxv #final fantasy xv #ff15 #final fantasy 15 #tlym #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #mine

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darkestwolfx · 7 years ago

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TAG S2E23 - ‘Rigged for Disaster’ Review

Sorry for the lack of pictures! I’ll add them when I can get them. All the rescheduling of episodes lately has caused a lot of disorganisation on the internet.

Anyway, onto the review.

The clue is in the title really. A little throwback to TOS episode ‘Atlantic Inferno’ (S2E1) as well. Malloy was another nice touch, the name taken from another of Parker’s criminal ring seen in TOS episode ‘Brink of Disaster’ (S1E22).

I missed are fabulous brothers in this! I was at least expecting Gordon (and let’s be honest, the last Gordon and Kayo rescue was a laugh [see S2E4 ‘Deep Search’], but we only got one out of the five. I suppose Lady Penelope does deserve her time in the limelight. There hasn’t been masses for Kayo this half of the series yet either, so I guess it’s fair play. And I’ll never say no to more Parker moments.

Look at Lady Penelope go. I love Parker too. He’s great back up, but Kayo does have some superiority. I’d work for Lady P happily.

Malloy is a real character alright. I’m waiting for the reveal of his criminal nature here. And there it is... throwing someone overboard, starting a fire, and leaving the rest of your crew to drown. What a lovely man he is.

Parker saying he can drive anything… of course he can. I believe in him.

I still believe in him, even now with the rig cracking.

“hIs hit supposed to sound like that?”

I don’t think so, Parker…

Parker going back for Sherbet too was just a lovely moment. The writers are really keeping up with adding in moments for the new found Parker/Sherbet friendship. I wish they did the same with EOS and John sometime soon.

Way to go at being reassuring Virgil!

“That looks more like a disaster than a situation.”

Anyway, ‘International Rescue, we have a situation’ sounds much better than ‘International Rescue, we have a disaster’. I’m going to give John the credit for that; if it was down to Virgil, I’m sure we’d have the latter broadcasted.

I know where Lady Penelope is coming from, but I have to agree with Kayo here;

“As they say, the owner always goes down with the rig.” “I don’t think anyone says that.” “Well they should.”

Anyway, going down with your ship, or a rig, is a slightly silly idea, but then it comes from the 1900s – going down with a vessel was just part of your duty of service then.

Doyle doubts him too… Never doubt the great chauffeur.

“Parker, fire up FAB One.” “Right haway, M’Lady.” “So, he’s good to drive?” “This one’s a little more his style.”

Yeah, Parker’s style is a pink Rolls Royce called FAB One. Sounds about right actually. But then, it’s not your everyday Rolls Royce.

Of course there would be people trapped. That’s after all, what we usually see with this show. Malloy wasn’t just going to swan off and leave people to run free. It’s clearly not in his nature. Do I sense something between Hooper and Doyle, or at this point, was that just me?

Oh, Lady Penelope’s raised eyebrow says everything.

“We’ll need to access the valve control box and shut it off manually.” “But Mr Gordon’s the honly hone with that sort hof diving hequipment.”

Think again, my friend!

And Lady Penelope can swim now. Maybe she and Gordon really will make the perfect pair. They could have matching yellow and pink EVA suits… or wait, is that a fashion colour clash?

Oh, and don’t you just love seeing green in the sky.

I love that dog. He’s very sweet, pawing at the window like that.

Thunderbird Two and Thunderbird Shadow work quite well together.

Why is everyone terrified of Brains for some reason? I’d like to know, because we never see an angry side to him really.

Ha! I think our wanna-be pirate has co-ordination problems.

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dr3aming-of-stars · 7 years ago

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Lunyxweek - Day 6

I was originally going to post this during ffxvrarepairsweek in July, but I ended up getting super busy with things and my inspiration was gravatating towards other ideas at the time. BUT! I finally got around to finishing it, and just in time for Lunyxweek! I had so much fun writing it! :D + BONUS! DAY 6: Free choice! Summary: Luna has trouble sleeping and looks back on past events, and the closely approaching future of her responsibilites as Oracle to the people. With Nyx at her side to help guide her on her quest. What will the glaive do to help the sleepless Oracle?

Word count: 6320

Rating: PG

Pairing: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Nyx Ulric

@lunyxweek

The rain continuously pelted against the window, a loud crack of thunder prodding the Oracle to open her eyes blearily with a silent look of discomfort. Sleep wasn’t coming to her easily. For over an hour, she’d been trying to get her tired mind to settle, and for sleep to take her under it’s wing, but nothing seemed to be working in her favor.

Each time she closed her eyes, images of the destruction and chaos that swept over Insomnia clouded her mind and burned behind her closed lids. She let out another breathless sigh, pushing away the blankets from her body and sitting upright on the hotel bed. Her hands motioning over to rest in her lap, as her eyes peered over towards the window; the faint flicker of moonlight dancing behind the curtains.

It still tore a hole inside her heart every time she pictured that devastating day. Remembering how it was supposed to be such a momentous occasion in history across all of Eos, turned tragic.

Feeling sleep being a fleeting thing, she swiftly swung her legs out from under the remaining covers, placing her bare feet against the cool flooring. Making her way over towards the window and splaying the curtains with a hand to view the nightlife of Lestallum. She’d lost count of how many days, or even weeks her and the glaive had been travelling for. Having taken a pit-stop at the Leville in Lestallum for a quiet respite from her duties for a day. Surely it was nice to have a day to relax and enjoy what the city had to offer, enjoying the scenic view of the Disc of Cauthess, and a variety of delectable dishes that the princess had never even dreamed of consuming before. It was all so new and exciting, and Nyx all but laughed wholeheartedly at her genuine curiosity and bewilderment.

It filled her with warmth at the joyful memories she had made here with the glaive, and she almost selfishly didn’t want it to end. Her priorities as Oracle would come first, but that didn’t cancel out on taking some much needed “TLC” as Nyx had put it. She let out a quiet laugh at the memory, trying her best not to wake the sleeping glaive sprawled out across the second bed adjacent to her.

Luna silently crept over towards the sleeping glaive, kneeling down to study his face a bit more closely. He looked so peaceful. His even breathing timed with the rise and fall of his chest, and an arm laying limply off the side of the bed. This may have well been the first time she’d seen him get a decent night’s rest in a while.

Ever since they left Insomnia, she kept pestering him to not worry so much about her, and to think about his own well being for once. But alas, he didn’t take heed of her words and kept telling her that he didn’t care what happened to him, so long as she remained safe come Altissia.

The exhaustion in his eyes when they had arrived in Lestallum that morning spoke otherwise. Even though he remained upbeat and at attention as always, his actions were still rather lethargic.

That’s when they had settled for the night at the Leville, she made sure he got some much needed rest. He put up a good fight, but it was no match for the princess’ argumentative ways.

Nyx’s eyebrows began to knit together, as if he were in some sort of pain. His nose scrunched up and his lips were forming into a disgruntled frown.

Luna hesitantly reached out a hand to gently smooth away at the wrinkles that had begun forming a little more frequently against his forehead, earning her another scrunched up look from the glaive that slowly softened from her gingerly touches. She let her fingers lightly glide across his rough complexion, brushing over scars that marred his face from the battle in Insomnia, how many countless Nifs he had to best to get them safely out of the city; the small tattoo that laid just beneath his eye, still wondering what kind of meaning it held for him.

The shift in his position caused a braid of his to fall in front of his face, landing atop of her hand. She froze in mid motion, unsure as to if she should pull away carefully, or place the lone braid back in its place behind his ear. Still, the look of utter peacefulness on his expression made a smile spread across her lips. He did so much for her, and yet, he never asked for anything in return. With one gentle motion, she moved the braid back and placed it carefully behind his ear, trying to be mindful not to wake him.

Her efforts remained fruitless when she noticed him shuffling further in his position on the bed, eyes slowly beginning to flutter open and a tired hum fleeing his lips. She didn’t have the time to move away, nor did she feel the need to in the current situation.

Nyx’s eyes blinked a couple of more times, adjusting to the minimal amount of light that seeped into the room via the partially parted window. When his eyes landed onto Luna’s soft gaze, a small smile graced her features upon realization, which made his eyebrows further pull together in confusion.

“Why are you still awake, your highness?” He asked, his voice still groggy.

Her face still held that tender smile, refusing to let him see even a moment a weakness in the darkness.

“It matters not. I’ve just been on high alert as of late.”

Nyx gave out a displeased huff, propping himself up on his elbow to let his face rest on his hand. “C’mon, don’t start giving me that crap now. I can tell that something’s been up with you, so don’t be afraid to tell me what’s bothering you, okay?”

The response slightly shocked her. She was well aware of the fact that he was worried, far more worried than he should be for her, but it made her that much happier. She felt safe laying down her burdens onto him. Even as her smile began to twitch the smallest bit, and she began to nervously fiddle about with her fingers that rested along the sheets of the mattress -- she felt a little more at ease.

“You truly are too perceptive sometimes, you do realize that, don’t you?” She lightly laughed, letting her shoulders fall in a more relaxed manner.

He let out a low throaty laugh in return, this time, fully bringing himself up into a sitting position, and placing a hand cautiously over her fingers that ceased in their incessant nervous habit the moment he did so. The warmth of his palms against her chilled fingers made her shiver a bit at the contact, though it soothed the worry in her heart.

“Being perceptive is just part of my nature. I can’t just turn a blind eye to someone who’s hurting, especially after what just happened.” He let out a sigh, keeping his eyes on her hands. “I understand if it’s too painful to talk about, but know that I’m here.”

That pulled at her heart yet again. Always ever the selfless hero.

“I appreciate the sentiment, truly. I just… I just feel like there’s something more that I could’ve done. Something that could’ve prevented the chaos. I felt so powerless…” Her voice began to quiet as she uttered out the last of her words, gripping her nails into the sheets with pronounced vigor. Was there nothing in this world that could be left uncorrupted by the hands of such villainous people?

“That’s not true. You did all that you could, and that’s the most important factor of all. Besides, I don’t think just any princess could jump out of a moving airship and live to tell the tale.” He reasoned, sporting another laugh and motioning with a hand to bring her chin up to look at him. “It takes a lot of guts to do something that reckless.”

The look of frustration and sadness dispersed from her expression almost immediately at the mention of her previous actions. Another smile already beginning to twitch at the corners of her lips.

“That was only because you chose to follow me and catch me as I fell. I believe the gratitude goes to you, sir Ulric.”

“I think you give me too much credit, your highness.”

“Though that credit is well deserved, is it not?” She tilted her head, eyeing him with a look of curiosity.

He pulled his hands away from her with what she could assume to be was a nervous clearing of his throat, while a hand rose up to rub at the back of his neck. “Your kindness is really too much, your high-”

“Luna. I’d prefer if we started to call each other by our given names.” She said with a gracious air, rising up from her position on the floor and taking a seat on the bed next to him, her posture slightly rigid yet poised as ever. “I consider you to be a valuable friend of mine, and as friends should call the other by their first names. It gets rather tiresome after awhile with all this royal proclivity. I don’t want to be the Oracle, or Princess of Tenebrae tonight--tonight, I just want to be Luna.”

At first she believed that he would reject the idea, tell her how he couldn’t go against anything that deferred her royal title, but it wasn’t anything like that. Because in that moment, he understood the weight of the situation. She wanted to be normal for a night just as much as he did. And normalcy was becoming less and less of a common want, and more of a luxury all on its on.

She watched as he cracked a half-smile, throwing an arm over his knees. “Alright then, Luna. Tonight you’re just a simple tourist who took leave from work for a vacation.”

Intrigued, she raised a brow with a twitch of her lips. “What does that make of you? A wandering traveller as well?”

He shrugged. “No one special, just a friend who decided to tag along for the adventure.”

There was silence for a minute before Nyx decided to speak up once again. “And as friends do, they try to help the other out when they’re having trouble with something.”

He proceeded to swing his legs off the bed, making his way over to the large wooden dresser pressed against the wall and began rummaging through each drawer with deft hands. He let out a short huff of irritation when his search came up empty by the time he reached the last drawer, finding nothing but old flyers that were of no use and dust that had been collecting at the back.

She looked on with mild curiosity, wondering as to why the glaive--her friend, began to look utterly frustrated when he closed back up the drawers, tapping his foot and rubbing at his chin in thought.

“Is there something the matter?”

He shook his head with another wordless hum, darting over to the couch next to continue his search. Now he was beginning to act rather strange with his hands digging in-between the couch cushions, a look of concentration etched onto his face.

“Look, I know this might seem weird to you right now, but I promise I have a good reason for it.”

She nodded, creeping up towards the front of the bed and letting her feet dangle off the edge. “I trust in your judgement.”

Nyx let out a snort, continuously digging his arm further into the couch as if he were going to find some type of buried treasure hidden within it. “Sometimes people leave things in these types of rooms, so it’s always fun to go searching to see what people leave behind. Once, Libertus and I found over 50 gil hidden in beds, couches, furniture, you name it. And other times, we found some really weird stuff. You wouldn’t believe the things--Aha!”

The surprise in his tone made her slightly jolt in her spot. What could he have found that was that exciting? She was a little worried to question what this mysterious item was in the first place, given the thought that it could either be dangerous or disturbing to say the least. But what he ended up holding between his fingers was a small rectangular cardboard box.

He once again wordlessly moved from the couch, the questionable box held within his calloused hands, and went back to sitting back on the hotel bed with her following by shifting in her spot to face him properly.

He opened the small package, pulling out a small deck of playing cards and shuffling them in his hands. “Ever play a game of cards?”

“On occasion, perhaps.” She stated. “Though I used to play with Noctis a lot when we were younger.”

“Well, I have a proposition for you if you’re willing?” He continued to shuffle about the cards, throwing her back another half-smile.

“Proposition?”

"That being we put up something as a wager for the winner.”

He shuffled through the cards one last time, setting them down on the sheets and creating two sets of cards for the both of them. He held out one of them to her, to which, she took it with a polite nod of her head. She made sure to study her cards thoroughly at first, trying to place out what exactly his motives were. It had been some time since she had properly sat down to play a game with someone so leisurely like this. It felt nice, and certainly put her mind at ease for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Is this your idea of trying to lift my spirits?” She asked, running her fingers along the edges of the cards, overlooking each of the numbers, letters, and pictures displayed on the surface. Every now and again peering up to gaze back up at him.

“I guess you could say it’s something like that. How am I doing so far?”

His grin felt almost infectious. She could feel the corners of her own lips forming into a smile at the look of genuine elation on his features.

“I believe you’re doing just fine, Nyx.” She paused, pulling out a card from her hand and waving it the air in a taunting manner. “But I warn you now, I don’t intend to lose so easily. I may not be as well acquainted with this game as much as I used to, so no going easy on the likes of me.”

Nyx’s expression looked absolutely excited, grinning from ear to ear at the way she was egging him on.

“You talk a big game, confidence looks good on you.” He did as she did and readied a card to be played with a sly pull of his lips.

“What’s a princess without a little bit of confidence.”

“Well, this soldier isn’t too keen on losing, princess.”

“Nor do I, glaive.”

Luna proceeded by placing her card down in the middle with an exhilarated glint in her eyes, admiring the way a light chuckle fled from his lips at their declaration of a challenge at cards. Sure it was rather simplistic, but the stakes were held high, and the prize wavered on her mind. She intended to win at all costs, her mind rested on the thought of playing with a couple tricks up her sleeves, but thought against it. She leaned more towards playing tactfully and amicably.

She maneuvered herself to slip her bare feet underneath her and sit on her knees, hands resting on her lap with the cards in hand. She carefully looked over to try to guess his next action, watching as his hands meticulously skimmed each one, and plucking the chosen card from his pile and placing it with the rest.

The game went on for some time, with Nyx throwing a side remark over her standing in the game, but it made no difference to break her resolve and throw back a remark of her own to counteract it. So far, he was in the clearing, a far ways ahead of her in his chances to win the game. He was good, she could admit to that. He had experience that she felt was unmatched, well, until the next card she pulled was like a gift from the Astrals themselves.

It was her saving grace.

The smirk that had stuck to Nyx’s face the entire game would be shattered upon realizing what her cards held in store for his pride. And she had to resist the urge to smugly grin back at him.

“Well, looks like this game already has a determined victor, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t go determining the wins or losses just yet,” she said, glancing down at her hand, and then back to him. “Show me your hand, and then we’ll see if your confidence wavers or not.”

He scoffed, puffing out his chest slightly when he fixed his sitting position by sitting up straighter. “I’ve never lost a game before, and I’m certainly not going to lose now. Gotta keep up my perfect record.”

He placed his cards right side up, showing to her the high ranking numbers across the surface of the paper cards. “I think my confidence is in the right place.”

She couldn’t help but feel impressed over the hand he displayed, surely it was worth that confidence in every respect, but her’s was far more mightier in terms of royal figures.

“A straight flush, is it? I hate to quell your fire over your victory, but I’m afraid I must steal the winnings from you.”

She revealed the appearance behind her cards, and in an instant, the smirk transformed into a look of pure and utter shock. His mouth agape, hanging open in pure wonderment.

“How did you manage to get a royal flush? What kind of beginner’s luck do you have?” He questioned with his voice a little louder than it usually was, cracking around the edges towards the end. Nyx looked at the princess for an answer, an answer she knew he craved to know, and it only made her giggle when he kept looking down at the cards in denial.

She cleared her throat a second later, her giggles quieting into silent breaths of air. She wouldn’t mind seeing this side of him more often.

“I believe my prize is in order. You lost fair and square.” Another hushed giggle leaving her lips when she noticed him grumbling under his breath and crossing his arms in defiance.

“Yeah, yeah. I still can’t believe I lost to a newbie, but at least it was you, Luna. You played well, better than any person I played against.”

She smiled in appreciation, nodding in agreeance. “Tis all but in the cards, I just went with what was presented to me.”

He grinned. “‘Course you did, I wouldn’t expect any less of you. Now, about that prize…”

He tapped a finger against his stubbled chin, eyes seemingly fixated elsewhere trying to come up with the perfect prize fit for the princess. He didn’t have anything of materialistic value, but what he did have, were a couple humorous tales to share, hoping that that would be enough.

“It’s probably not the best prize, but I can tell you of some silly shenanigans that went on within the Kingsglaive headquarters?” He paused a moment, clearing his throat. “Specifically speaking, embarrassing memories.”

She raised a brow. “Embarrassing memories you say? Do tell, I am most intrigued.”

“If you say so,” he chucked, preparing himself mentally for the tale and lifting up a finger in explanation. “Rule number one of being around the glaives at the headquarters is to never pass out in the lounge, ever. I learned that the hard way during our early days in training.”

She nodded, prodding him to continue.

“It was after a strenuous day of not just working our asses off trying to prove ourselves to Drautos during our training, but after a long night of guard duty without even a wink of sleep. So Crowe, Libertus, Pelna, and I were all going to head out for some food after briefing on the latest mission that was coming up, but I was just too damn tired. I told them I was only going to take a short nap… Big mistake. Next thing you know, I wake up the next morning with a black ring around my eye, with the names ‘Lady Killer’ and ‘The Hero’ written across my forehead and cheeks in permanent marker.”

“That’s, um--” Try as she might, but she couldn’t help the bubbling laughter that spilled out from her lips seconds later. She tried to remain respectful over his dilemma, but it was no use. And the look of embarrassment began to wash over Nyx’s face like he had just gotten a terrible sunburn, the flush reaching past his cheeks, and racing down his neck.

“I-I had that stuck to my face for a week! A week! Do you know how hard it is to wash permanent marker off your skin? Not fun!”

“P-Please, stop, I can’t--” More peals of laughter wracked over her body, clutching onto her stomach to help sustain herself from falling over. She looked at him through teary eyes from the amount of laughing she was doing, seeing as he was crossing his arms with a stern look, as his flustered state turned into one of enjoyment. It started off as a choked up snort, but quickly turned into the same type of laughter she was expressing.

“How are you feeling now? Any better? I know it was kinda lame, but I hope it helped settle your anxieties.”

She wiped away a stray tear with her fingertip, her resounding giggles quieting little by little. “I’m feeling significantly better thanks to you, Nyx. I couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard and friend like you.”

“Glad to be of service.” He grinned, his own laughter being stifled into the quiet, and motioning with a hand to do a short bow from his sitting position on the bed. Resulting in another giggle to flee her lips at his gesture.

The weariness that had been settling like a heavyweight on her chest that evening had begun to lessen, though she still couldn’t shake off the one nagging thought that ran rampant in the recesses of her mind. She knew that once the sun began to rise in the sky above Lestallum, they would have to make their departure to the Disc of Cauthess, so that she could perform her duties as Oracle. At the end of that day, that was what she was--Oracle to the people to help cure the sick from their scourge, and awaken the Astrals to aid Noctis in his journey to see the Prophecy be fulfilled. Even if it was but a moment of quiet with someone she cared about, she was happy in that moment of peace.

Nyx’s stirring in front of her startled her from her thoughts, surprised to see that he had shifted along the mattress to edge closer to her. His hand resting against her forearm, rubbing soothing circles atop her clothed arm with the warmth of his fingertips seeping into the fabric.

“Hey…”

The concern in his tone made her heart drop, and only then had she realized the sudden tension in her muscles begin to lock up. Everything was fine just moments ago, weren’t they? Why did she suddenly feel so vulnerable, scared, and lost. It was at the realization that she would never truly be able to have a normal life is what hit her the hardest.

She didn’t say a word, nor did she shed a single tear. Even as she felt her eyes burn and begin to grow misty, she relented and stopped herself from showing him such a weak side to her with a shaky intake of breath. She wanted to remain a pillar of light for those who were lost in the darkness, a shoulder to cry on, she wanted to be strong. But in that moment alone, she didn’t know what to feel.

“Come here.”

Nyx wordlessly pulled the shaky princess into a soft embrace, his arms wrapping around her petite frame almost protectively as a hand reached up to brush through her light blonde hair.

“I’m here for you. I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her face nudged further into the crook of his neck, with her hands cautiously wrapping around to grip at the back of his Kingsglaive uniform. He felt so warm, and she wanted ever so much to clutch onto his warmth and never let go.

Why did he have to be so kind?

“I assure you that I’ll be fine… Perfectly fine.” Her voice wavered with every word, trying to stop her lip from trembling.

“You don’t have to act so strong around me.” Nyx leaned in a little closer, kissing the top of her head. “You can let it out.”

At his words, her walls that were holding her up, completely shattered. The tears poured down her cheeks at an alarming rate, far faster than she could go to wipe them away. So she cried. She cried fiercely into his jacket. Her entire body being wracked with uncontrollable sobs, as she gripped even further onto him. All of her worries, her insecurities, her duties; came rushing at her all at once. After holding it in for so long of suffering with the weight of her responsibilities, it brought her some solace to know that she didn’t always have to hide her scars. Hide her fears.

Knowing that she had somebody like Nyx at her side to brave through it all.

Her insoluble sobs halt the slightest at the gentle hums that she hears come from him. It’s a slow and gentle sound, one that is foreign to the likes of her own ears. She remembers hearing countless melodies when she was younger, held in the arms of her mother during stormy nights such as these, and hearing her mother hum a common Tenebraen lullaby. But this was different. Something about his voice, his tone, made her quivering shoulders still.

“What is that song?” She quietly asks, her hands tentatively smoothing out against the back of his uniform.

His humming ceases, and she feels guilty for making him stop mid melody.

“It’s an old Galahadian lullaby that my mother used to sing to me when I was a kid. It always helped me when I couldn’t sleep at night. And along the line when my sister Selena was born, I’d sing the exact same lullaby to her. Even as she got older, she’d come into my room and ask me to sing it to her. Something about me singing it better or what not?”

“I’d have to agree with your sister on that one. You have quite the lovely singing voice, or rather I should say humming voice? If that is not odd for me to say so.”

Nyx lets out a hearty laugh, and she can feel it vibrate against her head that is pressed close to his chest. And there’s something strangely addictive about his laugh that makes her quell the sadness that was harboring deep in her chest, as she lets out a laugh of her own.

“It’s not, in fact, Selena used to say something similar.” He adds, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And I bet she’s up there right now giving you her seal of approval.”

A light bit of laughter fled from her lips at his comment, making her begin to wonder what type of person his sister was? From his previous brief depictions of her, and the picture of his mother and sister that although a little tattered, still displayed the warm smiles of his late sister, along with his mother.

Luna began to settle further into his warm embrace, feeling her nerves begin to ease and the tears to surrender completely. And with a soothing yet gentle tone, she began to speak once more.

“I wish I could’ve had the chance to meet her.”

Nyx’s form froze a bit at her comment, not being able to see the hints of lingering sadness hidden within the blue of his irises. His hold on her tightening a little, but not enough where it was uncomfortable.

With a shaky sigh, he spoke of his response. “I wish you could’ve been able to meet her too. Selena did have quite the obsession with fairy tales about princes and princesses, so meeting a real life princess would’ve been a dream come true to her.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be able to see that wish is fulfilled.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” He mumbled out with a low chuckle.

Luna couldn’t begin to describe the amount of heartache Nyx must’ve gone through in his life, or over the loss of his sister, his homeland? She understood all too well what it was like to lose someone she loved dearly. Her own mother was an example of that. But to lose your homeland along with the people you care about, that was another thing entirely. The meaning of a home had become just as a foreign thing as it has been for him for a very long while.

And right now, home felt like this. Wrapped in the comforting embrace of her glaive companion.

His warmth was more than comforting, more so than anything she’d ever felt before… But by the astrals, she couldn’t let him quietly suffer alone either. She believed that maybe by words alone wouldn’t suffice enough, so she did the only thing she could do. Unfurling her fingers from the minor grip she still retained on his jacket, she moved them towards the front of his chest, letting them settle there. Her head coming up to peer into his eyes, eyes that seemed to be looking at her, but at the same time, looked as if they were looking elsewhere, distracted.

“Nyx,” she called out to him in the same gentle tone she had been using for most of the evening, managing to strike his attention back to her with a raise of his brow at her suddenly close proximity. She payed no mind to his confusion, and instead, rose her head up further to connect her lips with the the small tattoo that laid beneath his eye. She knew it was wrong of her by all accounts to do so, but she threw caution to the wind during the quiet they shared. “Thank you, Nyx.”

Nyx blinked back at the Oracle a couple of times, unsure as to what had really just transpired. Confusion written across his complexion for a couple of seconds before his features softened, smiling warmly back up at her.

“You’re welcome, Luna.”

Luna couldn’t help but feel captivated by the warmth in his gaze, locked on the calming blue peering back at her with the gentle pull of his lips into a grin. It made her unintentionally run her fingers further up the front of his jacket, wanting to let her fingers linger for longer against his tattoos, scars, maybe hold a braid of his between her fingers once again, but resisted against the urge.

Though it seemed as if Nyx’s own intentions weren’t too far off from that of Luna’s, as he was beginning to move closer to her. His hands had slid up from the comforting hold he had wrapped around his waist, and all the way up to rest against her shoulders.

Just when their faces began to inch a touch closer to the other, Luna pulled back in one abrupt motion. It just wasn’t right. But then again, tonight was a night to pretend to be someone she was not, or maybe, maybe it didn’t have to be, she thought.

Nyx yet again stared at her rather perplexed, suddenly broken out of whatever mood or spell the both of them were under.

“Nyx…” Luna quietly mumbled out, eyes gazing elsewhere that wasn’t at his face, for she couldn’t stop the flush from suddenly colouring her cheeks at the thought of what could’ve happened if she just let herself indulge in the moment. “I have something I wanted to ask you… If you will humor me?”

She heard him hum in response, rubbing at her shoulders with his hands in an effort to comfort her.

“I was thinking, what if it didn’t have to be a dream? What if we could make this a reality.”

“What do you mean by that?” His voice sounded a little more serious than he intended it too, but still retained bits of concern.

Luna cleared her throat, breathing out a long breath before she turned her gaze back to him to witness the look in his eyes. Something she regarded as unreadable.

“What I mean to say is that, I want to view the world through my own eyes. I’m constantly running after a duty that I’ve had ever since I was young, maybe even something I was destined to be at birth, but now, now I’m afraid. I don’t want my responsibilities as the Oracle to be all that I am. I want a chance at freedom, to know what being liberated tastes like. Because…” Luna’s gaze is resolute, moving her hands down to grip at his calloused hands in between her own slender fingers and squeezing lightly. “Because I’ve been trapped inside of a cage for so long that I forgot what it was like to experience true peace, happiness, laughter, even friendship. I forgot it all because being the Oracle has stripped every little piece of humanity I had.”

Nyx continues to stare at her rather flabbergasted by her words, and can only squeeze back at her hands in response. He knows well enough what having a duty does to your own well-being, hell, he may not know what being the Oracle completely entails, but that won’t stop him from trying to understand her pain. The pain he never knew she had been harboring for so long. She does so much for the people of Eos, and what does she get in return? A sentence that is far worse than death. And it’s unfair.

“I’m tired of running, tired of responsibilities that have solely revolved around seeing the prophecy be fulfilled… The astrals may rain down chaos upon me if they so wish at my defiance to not comply to aid Noctis, but I want to live. For how long that is is uncertain. But I know that I want to experience it for once. So please, my dear glaive--no, my companion. Aid me in this troubled girls request at a second chance at life, however foolish she may be.”

All she can see from the reaction in Nyx’s expression is the furrow of his brows, a brief sigh and a hand coming up to comb back his hair with his fingers in thought. His lips remaining in a firm line.

“Are you sure this is what you really want, Luna?”

She nods vigorously, bringing his hands close to her chest and letting them rest there. “It’s more than I’ve ever wanted in life. I’ve never asked for anything… I’ve constantly been giving rather than receiving anything in return, so yes, I am sure of what it is that I desire.”

The thin line begins to shift into something of a warm smile, a smile that has the faintest hint of a smirk forming.

“Then what are we waiting for? I say we leave this place in the morning and see where the wind takes us.”

Luna’s eyes widen in shock at his words. He wasn’t angry with her? Along their journey thus far, it had always been about Oracle and Glaive. Duty and Sacrifice. Sure the topic of living a peaceful life came up once or twice, but never in an instance where they really methodically discussed it.

“Are you sure of this?”

“More than sure. I go where you go, so if you want to start off new, fresh? I’ll follow along with you.” Nyx leans in a little closer, kneeling his forehead against hers. “Besides, we deserve a little down time.”

A smile pulled at her lips, angling her face so that her lips were mere inches apart from his. “Then, come morning, we’ll depart. Wherever the wind shall take us.”

Nyx’s lips ghosted over hers, feeling the wide grin spread across his face when he pressed his lips to hers softly. Luna more than greedily relished in the moment, intertwining her fingers between the spaces of his calloused fingers and eagerly kissing him back. The gentle tap of rain water against the glass, and the glittering lights of Lestallum being the only thing that resounded as they lost themselves to each others warmth. Letting the world around them become a distant memory.

The dawn would break soon, and they’d wake up entangled in blankets and limbs with soft smiles gracing their features. No longer afraid of daybreak to put a dreary weight on their minds or hearts, but inspiring them to venture forward and brave through another day.

Nyx had all he ever needed, the strong minded Oracle at his side to brighten his path. As well as Luna, she had her valiant glaive alongside her to harbor whatever the world of Eos decided to throw at her.

Fate wasn’t going to be pulling the strings on their roles any longer, because they’d face it, together. Shaping the world as they both see fit.

#lunyx #lunyxweek #lunafreya nox fleuret #nyx ulric #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #kingsglaive #otp #my writing

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nebulacorps · 4 years ago

Photo

SAMPLE APP

here is another sample app! if vorna’s sample app is an example of the minimum we’re looking for in an app, this app is the opposite! you do not have to write this much or expand the skeleton to the same degree. but if that’s where the muse calls you then we would be happy to see it! this app was written by my lovely co-admin rion! i hope it helps!

STATS

Chosen skeleton: The Technician

Full Name: Tergi Daxu

Age: 12

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Alien ( Prequian )

Faceclaim: Rocket Raccoon

HEADCANONS

( + ) : dependable, hardworking, vigilant, paternal

( - ) : blunt, critical, controlling, stressed

Tergi has been in the Nebula Corps for ages now. He came on as a junior technician when he was five, and has never had another job. It’s the same job his own father had when he was a kid, and it was from him that Tergi learned the skills he needed to do it well. He lacks any sort of formal higher education — save for on the job training, but he’s damn good at what he does and… not much else. He understands the ship and what needs to happen to keep it running, but that’s always been enough. That’s why there are other crew members, to even everything out. It’s a carefully balanced system, one that Tergi has seen work well for seven years now. Every team has run with ease. Every team, that is, until the last one. Tergi had what one might call irreconcilable differences with the engineer. A distaste for each other quickly became a glorified pissing match which escalated with unprecedented speed. It almost cost the team the mission, damaged the integrity of the ship they had been stationed on, and ended with both Tergi and the engineer being severely reprimanded.

He’s practically a veteran, nearing the age of retirement (if not having already passed it), reliable as any of the technicians in the Nebula Corps, and should have a place on Team Alpha by now, if it weren’t for the dark spot on his record. He’s in the second half of his life, he’s got three kids and a wife, he just wants to go home, but he needs the retirement benefits that Nebula Corps offers so he’s sticking it out for a few more missions. Even if he’s on some low priority team. He was not expecting Team Proxima. He was not expecting a pilot to go rogue before the mission even began. He was not expecting for anything to happen that could overshadow the dark spot he already had. Yet, here they are, committing what is essentially piracy, on an unapproved mission, no backup…. he could go on about the aspects of the mission that worry him, but with a sigh he’s realized he has to make this work. If there’s any chance of him getting a good retirement, this mission needs to be more than a success; it has to be done so well that Nebula Corps will be forced to forgive the circumstances under which it began.

The problem? Well, the crew itself seems to be (as far as Tergi can tell) just as chaotic as their pilot. If he wants this to go well, it’s going to take a lot of work on his part. He does his best to explain that if everyone was just a little more careful things would go a lot smoother.

COOL ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : tergi really tries his best to keep a level head. he knows it would be better for his job if he could, and he tries his best. however, tergi has always been prone to stress ( and team proxima raises such feelings without even trying ) . likewise, as was the case with the engineer on his last team, certain personalities can dig their way under his skin and cause him to lash out, though he usually will not make the first strike.

CHARM ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : there’s a sort of awkward paternal charm to tergi. in his bluntness and clumsiness with interpersonal interactions, he can be somewhat endearing. however, at the end of the day he is brutally honest and doesn’t often think about how his words might affect his crew mates, and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth without even realizing it.

SHARP ▰ ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ : tergi might not be book educated, but where it counts, he knows what he’s doing. he’s been taking care of nebula corps ships for over half of his life now, and at this point it is almost second nature.

TOUGH ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▱ : there’s a particular constitution that prequians ( and, although he doesn’t want to hear about, their earth born counterparts ) are known for, and tergi is no different. add that to the fact that he’s used to the little accidents that come when working on a ship, along with being an active member of the nebula corps for 7 years, he’s a pretty resilient little guy.

ARSENAL ▰ ▰ ▱ ▱ ▱ : tergi isn’t completely unprepared if it comes to blows, but he’s certainly not the most powerful fighter on the ship. he can hold his own for a little while, just long enough to hopefully get himself out of trouble. the truth is, he’s getting old; he’d rather avoid fighting altogether.

LASERS VS FEELINGS : 5 : tergi definitely has “dad energy” but that dad is awkward, stressed, and doesn’t totally understand the best way to interact with people. he can be a bit controlling, as he wants to make sure this mission goes as well as possible ( with the ship making it through in peak condition ) and isn’t really sure how to impart how important that is to him to the others. he’ll say the wrong thing without even realizing it, but is much better at solving problems that have to do with the ship.

CORE TRAIT : DEPENDABLE : save for the last mission, tergi has been one of the most reliable engineers in the nebula corps, but it isn’t just that he’s dependable in his work ethic. even though he isn’t great with feelings, he is a good friend to have. he shows his love by fixing things for you, or by listening ( though he’s likely to say something ill advised or a strange platitude that doesn’t totally make sense after ).

MOTIVATION : KEEP THE SHIP INTACT : if the mission goes well, and the ship is in peak condition when it is returned, tergi can hold out hope that he won’t be held responsible.

PLOTS

I’m excited to see Tergi grow to accept the team. I think right now he’s reluctant team dad because it benefits him. He needs them to do well so that the mission goes well nad he can get what he needs to retire. I think through the course of the group he’ll come into more of a “team dad because I care about my ragtag children crew” vibe.

I have the urge for the more .. reactionary version of Tergi that exists to pulled into play, the one who got into trouble due to his fight with the engineer on the last team. Something that would push him over the edge for sure would be damage to the outbound communication systems. I think, if this is possible, Tergi has been keeping in touch with his wife and kids pretty regularly, and cutting him off from that would really push him to be very upset, both personally and professionally. Additionally, the outbound comms being down might have a bunch of other more group wide implications.

For the drama… and this would have to happen near the end because it would require Tergi to be close with the team to a point where this would actually be a hard choice, but making Tergi choose between honorable recognition within the Neubla Corps and supporting the team. Perhaps there’s an offer to expunge his record in exchange for revealing their location to HQ, or something similar.

SPECIES INFO

Parallel evolution is an interesting thing. The Prequians come from an Earth-like, although generally more advanced, planet. They evolved similarly to the Earth Racoon for similar reasons, but managed to develop further than their counterparts. They have their own language, cultural organization (which values family very highly), and outlive the average Racoon in the wild by about 17 years. Similarities continue between the two species in that the Prequians are scavengers, but not just for food. Small hands (With opposable thumbs! Suck it trash pandas!) were found to be perfect for dealing with delicate pieces of technology. They built up their own society by using discarded tech from other species and improving upon it. While not all Prequians take part in this, it is a large part of their society and how they got to where they are currently.

Species stat wise, I imagine them as similar (though not identical) to Rock Gnomes in DND 5E, with some Racoon vibes thrown in to even it out. Here’s some details!

Favored abilities: Prequians tend to be intelligent and hardy.

Lifespan: The same as the Earth Racoon when in captivity, the average being 20 years. If I’m doing my math right here that makes Tergi basically 60 human years old. He would very much like to retire soon.

Size: Between 24 and 38 inches, weighing between 14 and 25 lbs. Tergi is 40 inches and it is more important to him than it should be.

Speed: Little legs, so not super fast when just walking, but on all fours pretty zippy! Can run up to speeds of 15 mph, though not for very long.

Other notes: Tend to be good swimmers, can see decently well in the dark, amazing sense of touch, colorblind, naturally nocturnal but can adjust. Due to the colorblind aspect, Tergi uses little tags to mark wires on the ship where color is important.

ANYTHING ELSE

Here’s a pinterest board !

Here’s a muse tag !

TV Tropes: Book Dumb, Bezerk Button, The Comically Serious, The Complainer Is Always Wrong, Control Freak, Crippling Overspecialization, Dude Where’s My Respect?, Happily Married, Hard Work Hardly Works, Only Sane Employee, Not So Above It All, Parental Substitute, Standard ‘50s Father, The Reliable One, White Sheep, Workaholic,

Character inspiration: Bob Belcher (Bob’s Burgers), Dr. Cdr. Ryan Dalias (EOS 10), Michael Bluth (Arrested Development), John Yossarian (Hulu’s Catch 22)

#sample app

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tarysande · 7 years ago

Text

ME:A Fic: Five Gifts (1/1)

Guys. I don’t think I have ever been the first to invent an AO3 tag before. I made this post yesterday night. It’s... been a wild ride?

Pairing: Vetra Nyx/Jaal Ama Darav

Also on AO3

Five Gifts

Voeld

Some time after the first trip to Voeld—where, yes, maybe she’d complained just a little about the ridiculous cold—Vetra finds a piece of fabric on her workbench. It’s the exact color of her markings, which is strange. Even stranger, the small, delicately-embroidered flowers winding around the edges are gold, and if the fabric is a perfect match for her markings, she can’t help noticing the embroidery’s the same color as her eyes.

It’s a kind of tube. Weird. She has no idea what it’s for. Pretty, though. It’s also the softest, silkiest fabric she’s ever felt, which is saying something because she’s sourced some pretty fancy shit over the years.

There’s no note, no explanation. She asks around, discreetly. She knows how to be discreet. Ryder’s as confused as she is. Drack snorts. Peebee jokes about secret admirers. Figuring it might be some kind of angaran thing, she brings it to Jaal. He’s busy with something, but instead of just turning in his chair or speaking over his shoulder, he stops what he’s working on immediately, rises, and faces her directly, as if she’s now the most important thing he has to think about. She not sure she’s ever going to get used to that. He smiles when he sees the fabric in her hands, but the smile fades when she asks if he knows what it’s for.

“Ah,” he says slowly, as if savoring the single syllable. “You did not get the note?”

(She finds it later, after an office-wide search, swept aside with a pile of irritating requisitions and hiding under two boxes of cereal, one empty.)

He takes the fabric from her hands, looking for all the world like he’s about to start performing some kind of ritual, and says, “May I?”

She’s used to people wanting things, of course. Half her life is spent getting things for people who want them. Jaal’s weird, though. When he asks, she always gets the sense that the question is real. If she said, no thanks, he’d only incline his head and accept the refusal. She’s not used to that either.

So she says, “Sure?” still without the first clue what he’s about to do. He lifts the tube, moving his hands toward her, and though she stiffens, she doesn’t pull away. He drops the fabric over her head, where it pools in her cowl, impossibly soft against the hide of her neck. She stops herself from nuzzling into it. His hands fuss a moment longer, and though he does not actually touch her, just the heat of his hands so close is almost a caress.

She’d laugh at herself if the thought wasn’t quite so unexpectedly disconcerting.

“For when you are cold,” he says, stepping out of her personal space and taking his heat with him. She’s not sure if she’s disappointed or relieved. He tilts his head, as if admiring her, though she knows he’s probably just looking at his handiwork. “It suits you. I hoped that it would.”

“Uh, thanks,” she says, managing to keep her voice even, even if her subharmonics are all over the place. She’s pretty sure he can’t tell, anyway. Hopes he can’t.

When she finds a mirror, she has to admit it does look nice. She doesn’t really believe such a flimsy scrap of pretty nothing could possibly keep her warm, though. The next time they’re down on Voeld, though, she humors him and tries it out.

Damn if the thing doesn’t work as advertised.

Aya

She loves Aya. It’s beautiful, sure, but there’s also real trade and so many new things to discover, and she’s always loved new things. And discovery, for that matter. The climate’s a relief after the insanity of Voeld and Eos, and everything smells so damn good. One thing she has to hand to the angara, they’re no slouches when it comes to hygiene. Even up to their damn eyeballs in war with the kett, they still make time for beauty.

She wanders through the market, for once a tourist instead of a trader, smelling perfumes and lotions and whatever other magical potions the angara douse themselves with. Doesn’t buy anything, though; she’s always happy to shop for Sid, but she’s not big on spending on herself. Too many years saving every credit and living job to job; old habits die hard.

Back on the Tempest, though, surrounded by the familiar but uninspiring scents of metal and Nomad and recycled air, she wishes she’d splurged.

“I saw you in the market,” Jaal says later, when it’s just the two of them in the galley.

“I’m hard to miss,” replies Vetra. “Not a lot of turians down there.”

She hasn’t figured out yet if she loves or hates the way he thinks about everything she says, even the flippant stuff. He says, “You did not buy anything.”

She shrugs, pushing food around her plate to give her hands something to do. “Yeah, well. A lot of that stuff’s… it’s nice, but it’s extravagant. Not necessary.”

He leans forward on his forearms, watching her intently. “I disagree. If we do not remember what we fight for, do we not risk becoming no better than our enemies?”

She snorts. “You’re fighting for lotion?”

He laughs, low and deep. She can’t stop the flutter of her mandibles in response. “Yes, Vetra Nyx. I am fighting for lotion.”

Three days later, there’s a small tub of lotion on her desk. She rubs a little onto the hide of her wrist. It’s not too floral, not too sweet. It reminds her—strangely, since she’s pretty sure none of the plants are the same—of her childhood, of soil after a good rain, the feel of her dad’s big hand curled around her little one, and the sweet baby smell of Sid in her skinny arms. You know, with flowers.

Instead of saving it, instead of leaving it on her desk and smelling it, she uses the lotion every day. She finds some fabric in Kadara port she thinks Jaal will like (only, she knows, if he doesn’t realize it’s from Kadara port), and trades him for more lotion when it’s gone. He insists the trade isn’t necessary. She insists it is. Besides, she wants him to have the fabric.

Havarl

After the stress of the whole Sid-pretending-to-be-her thing, when Jaal asks if she—they, she and Sid both—would like to come to meet his family, she accepts.

She worries, of course, only after she’s already agreed to go. When it would be too weird to say hey, about that meet the family thing, what exactly does that mean in angaran?

When she tells Sid, Sid says, “So what does that mean, exactly? Are you two like, a thing now?”

And Vetra thinks about the gifts Jaal’s left on her bench, and the tone of their banter, and the way he always manages to take his meals the same time she does. She thinks about how often he makes her laugh, and how she never stiffens or backs away when his arm brushes hers now, and how once or twice she’s even leaned into that touch and, well, really liked it.

“I don’t know,” she says, because she really doesn’t. “Angara. They’ve got feelings all over the place. I think we’re just friends.”

“You know there’s actually a way to find out, right?”

Vetra raises her brow plates and Sid rolls her eyes.

“I know this is a tough one, Vet, but what you gotta do is open your mouth and let words come out.”

“Ha, ha,” says Vetra, because of course she knows this. She’s just not sure she wants to hear the answer if she asks. She tells herself it’s because she likes things the way they are.

She’s always been able to lie to protect herself.

Jaal’s family is… overwhelming. Everyone talks at the same time. Everyone laughs. Here, people touch each other all the time. Forget arms brushing arms—there are hugs everywhere and it’s more common to see angara in happy piles of arms and legs and leaning heads than standing alone. A handful of cousins closes around a laughing Sid, promising to show her all kinds of exciting things.

“Mother,” Jaal says, when he introduces Vetra to Sahuna, “this is my—Vetra.”

My Vetra, thinks Vetra, as Sahuna’s arms wrap around her. This is my Jaal.

But she can’t say it. Can’t be sure. Doesn’t want to assume. My Vetra could be my friend, Vetra just as easily as it could be the Vetra I want to be mine.

He gives her the stars, just the two of them and whatever it is between them, alone in his childhood room. How different his childhood must have been, surrounded by mothers and siblings and cousins. Like the stones in a wall, he told her once. She thinks she understands better now. The back of his hand brushes the back of her hand and she knows, she knows she could reach out and wrap her fingers around his, but she doesn’t.

She does lean against him, though, just a little. Shoulder to shoulder, looking at a projected sky. My Jaal, she thinks, and wonders, just a little, how well the two stones of Vetra and Sid could fit into this wall.

Elaaden

He gives her a… poem.

She thinks it’s a poem, anyway. She’s never been all that big on… poetry? So she doesn’t understand a bunch of the metaphors and there’s an awful lot of talk about water considering how generally—and specifically—turians avoid splashing around in the stuff. There’s some really nice stuff about beauty though, and courage, and a particularly poignant stanza (she thinks they’re called stanzas?) about survival and determination.

I mean, she’s pretty sure she’d have to be dead to not appreciate that someone (Jaal, especially) thinks (she thinks?) she’s beautiful and courageous and determined. They’re all good things. She’s pretty sure they’re all things no one’s bothered calling her before, not specifically, and certainly not all at once.

He gives it to her almost nervously. She loves when he’s a bit nervous, actually. She feels like it evens the playing field a bit. It’s written on the crisp, beautiful paper one of the krogan merchants on Elaaden was selling—weird, yeah—and she’d bought thinking he’d like it.

“There was… more I wished to say,” he explains. “But I could not find the words.”

“These, um. These words are great, Jaal. I… you know, I really like these words.”

Before she can stop herself (she’s not sure she wants to stop herself) she presses her brow swiftly to his.

He nods. He shakes his head.

He probably doesn’t even know what her gesture means.

“I do not want you to answer now,” he says, bafflingly. “But—thank you, Vetra Nyx. For considering.”

She reads the poem three-hundred and forty-one times after he backs away from her little office, and she still can’t figure out the question it’s supposedly asking.

Kadara

“Hey,” she says. “Wake up.”

She’s careful not to stand too close, in case Jaal wakes the way she would: with a knife or a gun in his hand.

He doesn’t. He rolls to his side and blinks into the near-dark. It’s a couple hours until sunrise and the light filtering through the window is dim. The glow of her visor illuminates his outline, even as it spits information at her, rapid-fire. For the first time in a long time, she reaches up and turns it off. A moment later, she takes off her visor completely. She feels naked without it, strangely vulnerable, but it’s a good sort of vulnerability. She thinks. She hopes.

“What is this?” he asks, and damn if his voice isn’t even better all rough and growly with sleep. “Vetra?”

“I’m giving you a present,” she says. “Ryder’s going into the port today, and I’m getting you out before she makes you go with.”

“I hate Kadara port,” he says with real feeling, and she laughs.

“I know, Jaal. We all know. Everyone in the whole galaxy knows. Come on. Get your big purple ass out of bed. We’re on a schedule, here.”

“My… ass,” he says slowly, pushing back the blankets, “is not big.”

It is, however, definitely naked. Actually naked, not just vulnerable-naked. Angarans. Jaal. She swallows hard and turns around until she hears the rustle of fabric being pulled on.

“You are not wearing your visor,” he says.

“Yeah, well. Hopefully I’m not going to need to kill anything on the way.”

He laughs again. “We are on Kadara, Vetra.”

He doesn’t wear his eyepiece either, though, she notices.

He doesn’t ask where they’re going. She’s still kind of blown away every time he just trusts her like that, without needing anything in return. She drives the borrowed vehicle a little too fast, watching the ever-lightening darkness of the sky. She can feel Jaal watching her with his pretty blue gaze that always sees too much, but it doesn’t make her nervous anymore. Doesn’t make her want to pull back or hide or deflect. The silence now is companionable instead of strained.

He is game when she insists they climb up the cliff. Of course he doesn’t cheat, and though she wins, she doesn’t think it’s because he let her. He’s grinning when he reaches the top, every exhale almost a laugh. She’s never known anyone quite so able to wholeheartedly experience things. He holds nothing back. The sun rise is a ruddy glow on the horizon. “You are right,” he says. “This is much better than Kadara port. Thank you.”

She says, “I read your poem three-hundred and forty-one times, Jaal. I don’t even know what the question is.” She holds up a hand to stop him before he can speak. “But I have a question—there’s a question I want to ask you.”

I know this is a tough one, Vet, but what you gotta do is open your mouth and let words come out.

He nods.

“Is this… real?”

She has no visor to hide behind; he has none to distract her.

“This?”

She flicks her fingers, gesturing to herself and then to him. “This. Between us. The… gifts. And the… everything. You like me, I get that, and we’re friends, but—”

“I do not merely like you, dearest,” he interrupts. “That I thought you knew.” He touches his brow. “You… kissed me, did you not?”

Her mandibles flutter. Her stomach joins them. “I wasn’t sure you’d know what that meant.”

“I have been reading,” he says. “A lot.”

He steps closer, lifting his hands, palms-up. She inhales, catching the faint scent of both his lotion and hers—it’s probably stupid, but they smell good together—and lowers her own hands to his. Their fingers curl around each other. They stand almost as close as angara.

Low, very low, he says, “Do you want this to be, as you say, real?”

She nods. She swallows. She lets the words come out. “Yeah,” she says. “I really do.”

#mass effect andromeda #jaal ama darav #vetra nyx #vetraal #vetra x jaal #my fic #fanfiction #WHAT IS HAPPENING #i tripped and fell into a pair so rare i had to make up the relationship tag is what's happening

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