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elentiyawhitethorn · 4 years ago

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When Passion Rules the Game | Part Three

CW: minor NSFW, language

Part Two//Part Four//Masterlist//2759 words

The rest of the week was pure torture. Rowan’s position in the company, right underneath her, made it hard to avoid him, and Aelin was frustrated as hell by the time Friday rolled around. Once she was out for the weekend and she didn’t have to worry about being yelled at again for being tardy the next day, she headed to a bar. Aelin needed some release after the shitstorm that had been Rowan Whitethorn.

It was even more crowded than it had been on Monday night, people on every side of Aelin. This wasn’t some classy, upscale establishment, it was a dirty, overflowing shithole that Aelin frequented both because there was less a chance of her recognizing anyone, and because she liked it here.

Aelin sipped from her drink, eyeing the people around her. One man, blond and cheerful, met her gaze, and she smiled seductively. Aelin had turned flirting into an art form. It was a rare night indeed that she went home alone.

The man made his way over. “Hello, darling.”

Aelin smirked. “Hey.”

And so it began.

Five minutes later, Fenrys, she had discovered, had his hand resting on her hip, while her own hand was trailing along his arm. He had asked her name, and she told him Celaena, the name she often gave people she met in this scenario. It would have been even more embarrassing had she falsely identified herself to Rowan, she thought, before she could help herself. Then she tried to stop thinking about him.

Before she could ask Fenrys if he wanted to get out of here and help her drown out the roaring in her head—the contemplations of Rowan—something caught her eye. Or rather, someone.

Leaning against the wall and speaking to a tall, pretty brunette was Rowan.

Aelin managed not to gasp out loud, deciding that she needed to quietly extract herself from the situation. Yes, that was the plan. Make an excuse to Fenrys and get out. It was simple. Until Rowan looked her way.

His eyes widened upon seeing her her; not that either of them really had any right to be surprised. They both knew the other enjoyed spending time here.

Mentally cursing herself, Aelin debated what to do. She definitely couldn’t talk to him, nor could she keep staring at him forever. She would still have to leave and hope he didn’t bring it up at work. But was there really any point in turning down Fenrys when Rowan now knew what she was up to?

“Are you okay?”

Aelin snapped back to Fenrys, who was watching her with concern.

Aelin hesitated. “Yeah, my friend is calling me over. I need to leave.” They both knew it was a lie, but Fenrys seemed too nice to call her out on it. Feeling bad—and feeling she was missing an opportunity—Aelin flashed her best smile and added, “Maybe next time, if I ever see you around here again.”

He grinned and said, “Maybe.”

Then Aelin left from her spot at the bar and headed away, the easy smile evaporating from her face as she hurried toward the door. She didn’t dare look to where Rowan stood.

She made it five steps out the door before she heard Rowan call, “Aelin! Wait!”

She stopped but didn’t turn around. “You shouldn’t be approaching me outside of work. It’s inappropriate.”

“It’s—” Rowan started, sighing in exasperation. Aelin turned toward him to find the man running a hand through his hair stressfully. “Aelin, I—”

“Miss Galathynius!” Aelin yelled. She hadn’t meant to scream at him; after all, he was in just as bad a position as she was. But hearing her name on Rowan’s lips was too much for her.

Rowan winced. “Miss Galathynius. I’m sorry. I just felt we needed to clear the air.”

“There’s no need to do that, Mr. Whitethorn. I told you just to forget about it.” Aelin crossed her arms, trying to block the cold breeze. She was wearing a green dress held up by thin straps. It dipped low in the front and the back, and it was fairly short. It was why no one recognized her. It was also why Aelin felt so underdressed in front of Rowan, who was wearing jeans and a button-up shirt.

“You say that, but ignoring what happened obviously isn’t going to make this any better. We can hardly speak to each other without wincing.”

“So what?” Aelin hissed. “It will get better eventually.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Aelin just stared at him, wondering what to do. She had never before been in a position like this.

“I understand that you don’t what to acknowledge what happened between us, I really do get it, but I’m in a bad position here, too. I work for you for fuck’s sake. Other people would have fired me by now, and to be honest, I don’t know you. I don’t know how secure my job is.”

Aelin blinked at that. She hadn’t thought about how much this was affecting him. Mentally cursing herself for not bothering to wonder how Rowan was managing, she said, “I won’t fire you, I promise. Not for anything to do with this, anyway.”

Rowan smiled slightly. “Why don’t you come back to my place? Not to do anything,” he added hurriedly. “Just to talk. You look freezing out here. I won’t make a move, I swear.”

Aelin hesitated. She believed him, but she didn’t know if she would be able to stop herself from making a move. And now that she was aware of what a precarious position he was in, she didn’t want to do anything like that. Intentions aside, anything she did to him would be sexual harassment, plain and simple.

But Aelin was not that kind of person. She could manage to restrain herself for this reason, at least.

“Sure,” she told him, because they really did need to talk.

They had taken a taxi to Rowan’s apartment last time, and they did the same now. That night they had been so close, their legs pressed together, his hand possessively gripping her thigh. Now Aelin stayed well to her side of the seat, staring out the window in silence. The few times she glanced over, Rowan was doing the same.

Once they arrived, Rowan ran his hand through his short locks some more, something Aelin was beginning to realize was a nervous habit of his. He led her up to his place, then flipped on some lights and gestured for her to sit on the couch.

The apartment was just as bare as it had been last time, boxes still littering the floor. Rowan must not have had any free time to unpack yet.

“Thanks,” Aelin muttered when he passed her a jacket from the table. Apparently he’d noticed she was still cold. It was the first word spoken between then since they’d agreed to talk, but it didn’t break the uneasiness.

Sliding the jacket on gratefully and taking a seat on Rowan’s couch, Aelin sat with her back straight. He took a spot next to her, but gave her plenty of space. Too much, even.

Rowan cleared his throat. Then waited a few moments. It seemed that though he felt they needed to talk, he wasn’t sure what to say. Aelin decided to break the silence.

“What do you think of me, Mr. Whitethorn?” Aelin asked.

“What do you mean, Miss Galathynius?” They were both acting far too formal. Aelin would typically be calling her workers by their first names and inviting them to do the same, unless she really didn’t like them.

“Does the fact that I hook up with strangers lower your opinion of me?”

Rowan blinked. “Of course not. I do the same thing, remember?”

“Most people, should they find out, likely wouldn’t acknowledge that fact. Women are often held to a different standard.” Aelin pulled the jacket tighter over her body.

A pitying look crossed Rowan’s face. As much as Aelin was relieved he wasn’t arguing that fact, she did not want his pity. Still, she kept her mouth shut.

“You’re right. But I don’t think what you do in your free time affects how well you do your job, Miss Galathynius. I’m sorry other people do.”

“Thank you, Rowan. Mr. Whitethorn.” Aelin tried not to blush. She’d been so annoyed when he had called her by her first name, and here she was.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about her slip, only raising an eyebrow. “So, we fucked.”

“Yep,” Aelin said.

Rowan nodded. “Now what?”

Aelin laughed. “I don’t know. Short of doing it again I don’t think… um…” She trailed off as she realized what she had said.

“What were you saying?” Rowan asked hoarsely.

Aelin tensed. “Well, I was just commenting on the fact that doing it again would probably relieve the tension. Not that I’m suggesting actually doing it. I was just… joking…”

“Doing it again…” Rowan mused, almost to himself.

Aelin bit her lip. She hadn’t realized how close they had gotten on the couch, only inches apart. When had that happened?

Aelin felt something on her thigh, and she knew without looking down that it was Rowan’s hand. She wanted to be angry, but she suddenly realized her own hand was resting on his chest.

Rowan leaned in, and their breath mingled. It was so wrong, so so wrong. He worked for her—she was his boss. But his hand was so warm and his eyes were so dilated and Aelin couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

The next thing she knew, they were kissing.

This kiss was no less passionate than any of the ones they’d shared that first night. Rowan’s tongue parted Aelin’s lips, darting into her mouth, and she groaned. His hands came to her waist, possessive as ever. There were reasons they shouldn’t be doing this, but Aelin couldn’t think of what they were. All she knew was that Rowan was touching her the way she wanted to be touched and if felt so gods-damn right.

Aelin slipped out of the jacket and climbed onto Rowan’s lap, straddling him. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing out a groan, and tugged her father toward him. She could feel his half-hard cock right underneath her, and she ground down on it, yearning for any sort of friction.

A feral groan left Rowan’s mouth and he flipped them so that Aelin was underneath him on the couch, covered by his enormous frame. She shifted so that her legs were free, then wrapped them around Rowan’s waist. Aelin moved, grinding her hips on him once more, needy for some sort of relief.

Rowan, panting, reached for the first strap of her dress. So that he could pull it down. So that her breasts would be free. So that she could be naked and he could fuck her.

“Wait.”

Rowan paused, weighed the sincerity of her tone, then sat back, letting her up. He didn’t ask her what was wrong. There was no need; understanding shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Aelin said, straightening her dress as best as she could. “We both initiated that.”

Rowan nodded. He didn’t ask her for more or tell her it didn’t matter. He just understood, just acknowledged the fact that Aelin wasn’t willing to do this anymore and didn’t argue.

This couldn’t happen. The first time hadn’t been wrong—after all, Aelin hadn’t known what she was doing, even if he had technically been her employee even then. But now… she had worked too hard to let this happen. If anyone found out that a female CEO was sleeping with one of her employees, she would be disgraced and her life’s dream would end in ruin. Sex, even damn good sex, was not worth that.

“I should go.”

Rowan nodded again. “That’s probably for the best.”

“I’m sorry,” Aelin said, mimicking his apology.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Aelin shook her head. “I did, though. I know better than this. As long as you continue to work hard, your job is safe.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Neither was angry. Aelin was pretty sure Rowan was as disappointed in himself as she was with her own actions. She had never been so careless, so rebellious of the rules.

Aelin gave one last nod, then stood and exited his apartment, her mind whirling. So quickly, she had come to her senses and put a firm end to their hungry movements. What if she hadn’t, though? What if she had let Rowan have his way with her, what if he had touched her and fucked her and gods-damn owned her?

Feeling like an idiot for imagining what could have been, Aelin made her way home and got ready for bed. It was late, and she knew that it would take some time for her to get to sleep, as it had all of the past week.

Dorian was gone, having finally grown a pair and apologized to Manon for spilling coffee on her favorite dress. Which meant the house was empty.

The silence was too much for Aelin. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had confidently dirty-talked her the night they’d met, the words he had spoken. When Aelin started remembering how he had kissed her not an hour ago, trailing his hands along her skin, she couldn’t quite stop her own hands from repeating the motions.

Obviously Aelin wasn’t going to be able to forget what Rowan had done with her, and she needed to relieve herself somehow. It wasn’t wrong. That’s what Aelin kept telling herself at her hands moved to her breasts, massaging them. This isn’t wrong, this isn’t wrong.

She was only wearing a t-shirt and panties, and Aelin efficiently stripped, committing to what she was doing. Just this once.

Then Aelin set to work. She let one hand continue playing with her breast, twisting her own nipple. The other moved down her body, caressing the soft skin. Worked up enough as it was thinking about Rowan, and permanently impatient, Aelin plunged two fingers into her entrance.

She sighed in content, beginning to thrust her fingers in and out, working herself. Her own callouses scraped deliciously against her walls, but they weren’t like Rowan’s. None of this was like Rowan.

Wishing that she could have the real thing, instead of some immature fantasy, Aelin finger-fucked herself harder, pretending it was him. The hand on her breast was Rowan’s rough touch, the hand in her pussy was him making her feel good.

Aelin moaned. She could almost hear his deep voice berating her, ordering her what to do. She could almost see him, hovering above her with that smirk, pretending he wasn’t just as turned on as she was.

It was ever so easy to fall over the edge, groaning Rowan’s name. Aelin loathed herself for it, she truly did, but that didn’t make it feel any less good. Her body shook for a moment, but Aelin couldn’t help but think Rowan would have made it better for her.

As soon as she came down from her high, Aelin slipped out of bed. She splashed her face with water in the bathroom angrily, wondering what had happened to her. She was never like this.

Then Aelin pulled on a shirt and some sweats and headed outside. Disregarding the fact that it was the middle of the night, Aelin set off on a brutal pace, jogging along the sidewalk. It was difficult to see with the limited light of the street lamps, but Aelin didn’t care. Hell, if she fell and twisted her ankle, she’d deserve it.

Aelin had been an athlete in high school and college, and with the adrenaline and fury coursing through her veins, her max speed was pretty fucking fast.

It was a long time before Aelin calmed down enough to head back and go inside. And when the time came, she promised herself never to touch herself again while thinking of Rowan Whitethorn. Or to touch him again. Or to so much as admire his chiseled chest, or his structured cheekbones, or his mirthful, full lips…

What had Aelin been thinking? Right, every encounter with Rowan would be entirely professional from now on. She would surely have no issue with that, not after the embarrassment and shame that had stemmed from tonight.

But Aelin’s vow to remain indifferent toward Rowan was about to be tested in more ways than one.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

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@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #when passion rules the game #my writing

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raevenlywrites · 4 years ago

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A bit of the Twins

Felt really inspired on this scene, so I thought I'd share. If you remember Lawrence Crane (Bird) and his sarcastic demon, then happy day for you cause here it is again, bothering Bird's sons. Well, "happy" is maybe a bit generous :/

1.6k, angst/trauma memories, dark magic, inherited problems

“The cliff is called Lovers’ Last Kiss.”

"How romantic."

A shivering voice came from the darkness, or more specifically, from a patch of darkness that was deeper than the rest, more solid. And vaguely human shaped.

It stepped from the trees but became no less clear, just a shadow extending farther than the tree should be able to cast it. It reminded Orai instantly of how his father's shadow had been Wrong.

"Love has nothing to do with it, my little duckies. Kissing, maybe, but it's the joining that matters, not the emotions or lack thereof."

A wave of revulsion struck Orai and Iaro both, different ends of the same awful moment of their father's history. A girl, chained and struggling, blood and bruises the only things covering her skin. A boy, equally bound and beaten, if that would be more to his taste. And the sour/metallic rage/horror that burned up his throat as the first prickles of magic kissed his skin. He knew that magic, the heady sweet whispering of Cretia's promises of love and devotion--twisted. He had never experienced something so hideous in his life, and he was meant to wield it?

No one said against who, boy.

The voice echoed with the same shivery duality of the too dark shadow's, and both boys broke from the vision/memory with a gasp.

"What the fuck," Orai panted, doubled over on his hands and knees. Spit dribbled from his open mouth, the sickly tang herald of bile yet to come. Beside him, Iaro had not been so lucky. Every bit of dinner came back up and then some.

Damira knelt at Iaro's side, though she kept the shadow in view. She stroked a cool hand over his forehead, brushing away the sick sweat and chasing his hair back.

Khat had instantly put herself between the shadow and the group, a wall of fire hovering midair between them. The flames did nothing to give detail to the dark form.

"Are you alright, Orai?" She called behind her, unwilling to take her eyes from the thing in front of her.

Damira cupped her hands, calling cool water to them as she offered it to Iaro to drink.

"No need to hold onto those nasty memories, my lovelies. Call of your guard mara and I'll eat them back up for you."

If a formless shadow could hold up its hands in a gesture of harmlessness, the one before them did now. It was less seeing and more seeming, and it seemed to be contrite, and a little wistful.

"If I had a prettier way to show you, I would have. But we all have things that Bind us to this world-- well, maybe not this world."

It looked around the dreamscape, shimmering and shifting as it did. The darkness tried to take on a shape, but the two shapes were so opposed they seemed to cancel each other out.

"Its a nice place you've got here. A nice antithesis to its birth. Lovers' First Kiss Island. Cute."

Khat's eyes narrowed, and she called back, "Orai?"

It was Damira who answered. "Draw down the fire, but stand ready."

Clenching her teeth, Khat did so, pulling the fire back into herself, but not fully extinguishing it there.

Orai watched the shadow approach, knowing he knew this spectre from somewhere. It felt like staring into the void, like brushing uncle Naj's power, but different.

"That'd be the Dai bindings, sweets. We all feel a little bit the same, those of us brushed by their evil. Now, may I eat those nasty memories again?"

Orai's eyes widened, as if dilating would make more light bounce off the nothing. But that’s what it was. Not a shadow. An absence of light.

"You're dad's demon."

The being seemed to smile.

"He likes to think so. May I?"

It offered the idea of a hand, and trembling Orai looked to Iaro.

Iaro desperately did not want to scan anymore of the thoughts around him. Not Damira's, not his brother's, and most definitely not the nothing's. But his brother was reaching out. And he would not let his brother down.

He sat up, leaning back into Damira's touch, shielding tighter than he ever had before.

"I don’t want to feel like that ever again."

His voice was low but firm, betraying none of the horror he’d felt.

"I can arrange that," the nothing said.

"I wasn’t talking to you!" Iaro snapped. To Orai, he asked, "Do you trust it?"

Orai was surprised to find the answer was yes.

"Its been with dad for a long time. That's a stupidly long con, if its goal is to harm us now."

Iaro frowned, still not quite ready to unclench.

"Damira? Khat? Any insight?"

Damira smoothed his hair back, feeling her spine straighten as she looked at the darkness.

Her voice low and even, she told Iaro, "If it intended harm to any of us, it would be stupid to intend it on a literal island of our power."

The shadow radiated pleasure and pride.

"Very good, little fish. You should hold onto this one, son of my tether. She's very wise--and very hot."

Iaro grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

"If you speak out of turn one more time I will blast you back into the oblivion from which you first crawled."

Dominion was definitely his brother's gift rather than his own, but Iaro knew his words were not empty. "Son of my tether" was weird, and formal. In it's own way, the nothing was... what? Offering fealty? Trying to sink new tethers? He didn’t care. He would banish this thing and not feel at all bad. He did not like this thing.

Orai reached out, brushing Iaro's arm. Iaro flinched, scales bursting out at the touch. But that action helped soothe him, helped balance out his uncharacteristic display of temper.

"Ia, please. What about dad?"

What about dad indeed. He was mythically old, supposedly. Looking at this darkness, he could believe it. But he also knew if this wretched thing was the only thing keeping his father alive, then better he fall than be sustained by such wrongness.

But it would break Ruby’s heart, and destroy Orai's trust in him. For that, he would let the shadow remain.

But the shadow didn’t need to know that.

"Dad's got plenty of tricks that have nothing to do with this thing." He shot a glare towards the shadow. "Isn’t that right?"

"Exactly so, eijye."

Iaro growled. "Don’t mock me. But thank you for holding your peace. Show us your good faith by taking the memories and nothing more."

"As his father's heir commands."

Orai waited for Iaro to move first. But apparently his suddenly commanding brother was going to watch the shadow for any tricks. Fine then. The sooner Orai was free of this Seeing, the better.

Orai reached for the nothing, and felt a distinct Something, but nothing his mortal mind could name. Still, he was utterly and acutely aware of the thing taking, of a real and quantifiable quality leaving his being. And he was all the better for it. His breath came easier, his body felt lighter, and the air tasted sweeter, almost a tingling quality of delicate starlight kissing his skin. He looked up and saw the stars dancing above him, winking and singing in their endless joy.

"Much better," the shadow murmured. "Such wonderment is more fit this place. I quite approve of your solution for the waste magic, by the way."

"You've said as much," Iaro spit out. More tenderly, he asked his brother, "Rai? You good?"

Orai nodded, feeling the coolness of open tears streaming down his face. He hadn't realized how awful he felt until it was gone. How awful he’d been feeling, for a very, very long time.

He looked to the shadow.

"How far back did you go?"

Iaro's head snapped to the thing, but Orai held out an arm to stop him. The shadow seemed to nod.

"Very shrewd, brother of the heir. I could make the effort to speak plainly, but I have thought in riddles for so long, and it takes much of my attention simply to be here while the father is yet awake."

"Answer the question," Iaro insisted. He didn’t like the nuance of this things phrasing at all.

"Of course. Memory it was named but not memory of the sort called by yellow scales. I lifted the memory of your father's taint, o brother of the heir. And if you so wish it of me, he who speaks with the air of his fathers, I will lift if from you as well."

Iaro was about to order it to speak plainly, but again, Orai bid him hold.

"You mean like a lingering effect, something that ties us to you or the Dai or whatever, inherited from our father's half of the magic."

The shadow nodded. "Just so, my tether's son. It is the greatest thing that connects us, so it has the loudest pull. By your leave, I took the stain of it back into myself, from whence it came. Your magic and person is now free of it."

Iaro gave a soft gasp of understanding.

"That's what drew Damira to me, to us. We shared the magic of Dreaming, and Orai and I shared magic to command the stain."

The shadow clapped in delight. Orai thought he almost saw it do it. Almost.

"Very good, heir of my tether. Well sussed. You have an eye for threads."

Iaro frowned but didn't say anything.

“So what do we do?” Orai asked. Though whether he was asking it of the shadow or his brother, he wasn’t sure.

Iaro’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean…” There was no delicate way to put this. “If that��s what made this all work, what happens when it’s gone?”

#my writing #Iaro and Orai

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 4 years ago

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Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Two

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I’m making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

Baast woke to the scent of cooking meat. It made her stomach rumble and mouth salivate but also confused her. There had been no one in her life for many years. There should be no one to cook. Her eyes snapped open, prepared to fight whoever had found her.

Then her eyes fell on Din playing with Grogu, and it all came flooding back. He spoke softly through the modulator, encouraging the boy to float the small silver ball from Din's hand to Grogu's.

When the child succeeded, Din whispered a pleased, "Dank farrik!"

Baast almost purred, watching him with the child. He made an excellent father, and she was of an age to desire a mate, a home, a pride. But a warrior like him deserved someone better than a broken Zentari. It mattered not that her soul cried out whenever he touched her without the barrier of his gloves.

He'd stripped them off yesterday, and she could smell him—the spicy scent of masculine soap blending seamlessly with the musk of a man warm in his beskar. But the underlying scent of Din Djarin was that of the sandy dunes of her homeworld. He smelled of warm winds and dusky plains, of tall grasses whipped by fragrant breezes.

He smelled like home.

The stars were cruel indeed to drop her in the lap of the one made for her.

She watched them for a time as he encouraged Grogu. Their bond was strong, too strong if the Jedi were to be believed. Such attachments bred fear for the one they loved, and fear lent itself to the Darkside.

The idea of Grogu's pure soul becoming tainted made her ache, and though she said she couldn't help them, Baast knew she must. Grogu deserved a chance to grow up on the side of good.

She sat up, drawing Din's notice, the man turning toward her across the fire.

"Morning."

Baast wondered at the voice behind the modulator. Would it be deeper? More robust? Would it be even more pleasing than this one that stroked fingers of violent want through her blood?

"Good morning," she murmured, voice husky still with sleep.

Before she could ask, the canteen he carried on his belt was in his hand. "Drink?"

She nodded, catching it easily when he tossed it to her. "Thank you. I'm not used to morning conversations anymore. Or any conversations in some years."

"You've done well, evading capture until now. Now, the Tribe will help."

"The Tribe," she whispered. "I've been alone for so long." The idea of being part of something was both appealing and terrifying. "I look forward to meeting your Alor."

"She will be glad to meet you. They all will. Everyone will hope-" He cut himself off, busying himself with the lizard cooking over the fire.

"Mando, they should not hope for what I do not think I can give," she sighed, lifting Grogu to her lap when he shuffled over.

"You don't know for sure you can't bond, Baast. Give it time."

Time was all she had. Life was a long thing for a Zentari alone in the universe.

Small green hands gently touched her cheeks, causing her to look down at Grogu. He cooed a sweet noise as she gazed into big, dark eyes. They were expressive in their own right, and she felt herself falling, diving once more into his mind.

The images came fast and furious. Din running, fighting, killing, but almost always alone.

Baast closed her eyes as pain washed through her for the Mandalorian. "I cannot," she whispered to the child. "It would not be fair."

Grogu frowned at her before squealing loudly. More images filled her mind, these of a man reckless with his safety, one who had little to nothing to live for.

She gasped and wrenched her face away from his hands, but it didn't stop the flow of ridiculousness. Kriff! The man had a death wish!

When Grogu disappeared from her lap, only then did he release her from his grasp.

Baast sent the green menace a glare. "That was entirely rude."

He smiled and blew a raspberry.

"I'm sorry," Din murmured, holding the child away like Grogu was a danger.

She held up her hand, continuing to glare. "Do not apologize for something he did. It sets a poor president. Invading my mind is bad manners, little one. Disregarding another's desires is a step down a dark path. This will not be allowed."

"Dark path?" Din asked.

"The Jedi and the Sith. One force believes in peace and passivity. The other wants power and are often corrupted by that passionate desire, both use the Force. He has the potential to be extremely powerful, but with that power comes responsibility. It is a razor's edge to walk, one I am not confident I have the skill to help him navigate."

Din straightened, but his shoulders lowered, relaxing his posture. "You'll help him? I didn't want to bring it up, but I'm running out of options."

"Yes," she sighed. "I know of one who may be able to help him, but I do not know if he will come at my call. Where is your covert?" He said nothing, and Baast tilted her head in apology. "That was an improper question. Forgive me."

"Always," he murmured.

She wondered if that would still be true should he learn what Grogu already suspected. "If I am to make contact, it must be from Tatooine."

"Why Tatooine?"

"Because it is the planet we agreed upon." She turned toward the fire and the spit of roasting meat before looking up at Din. "Have you eaten?"

The movement was subtle, a single negative action.

Baast hummed and reached for the cloth that tied her pants' to her calf and began to unwrap it.

"What are you doing?"

She ignored him and continued until her pant leg fluttered free. The cloth was only a couple inches wide, but it was long and thick enough to make an adequate blindfold.

She lifted it to her eyes, only for his hand to shoot out and grab her wrist. It felt odd for him to touch her with the slightly cracked but soft leather of a glove now that she knew the feel of his skin.

"You don't need to do that."

Baast blinked slowly, gaze drifting to his hand before returning to the visor where his eyes would be. "It is not a need but a want. I will do this, Din Djarin, so that you may eat freely with the child and I. This is the Way."

"It is unnecessary."

She unfolded, rising gracefully to stand before him, wrist yet held in his grasp. "When last did you eat?"

He said nothing.

She tilted her head and held out the cloth. "I have not shared a meal with another in many years. I would share this meal with you and Grogu. Allow me to honour your Creed."

There was no sound, no movement beyond what Grogu contributed to the conversation in small burbles of noise. The Mandalorian was still and silent, a hunter in all things.

Baast waited, quiet, calm. After so many years in a cell, the forest gave her peace, but those years had taught her patience. She could wait for eternity for his decision. She had the time, after all.

What went on behind the helmet, she couldn't know, but eventually, he set Grogu down, released her wrist, and took the blindfold. "Turn around."

She did so, pushing her hair back to uncover her ears. "If possible, try not to cover them. The tips are sensitive, and the fabric will feel abrasive."

The cloth came down over her eyes, hooked behind her ears, and crossed at the back of her head.

"Again," she murmured. "I can still see."

Twice more, the fabric circled before he tied a knot.

Her senses heightened, hearing, smell, and the sixth sense that had been with her all her life. The Force resonated in every living thing, glowing and pulsing, connecting all of them. She could see it like an orange glow, thin lines and thick, veining out around them.

"Good?"

"Yes." The heat of the fire warmed her skin, but before she could move, Din took her hand and elbow.

"Kneel. I'll get you some food."

Baast followed his direction, aware of the bright light that was Grogu coming to her side. He placed his hand on hers, flooding Baast with a gentle apology. She turned her hand over to hold his little claws.

A quiet hiss filled her ears, causing her to turn toward Din. The beskar blocked some of his energy, the Force somehow muted by it. Then he lifted off his helmet.

It took every effort to restrain herself from gasping. He glowed white, the shining brightness of a sun. Shock left her mute as she tracked the supernova that was this Mandalorian as he set down his helmet and removed the spit from the fire. He pulled off a piece of meat, maybe a leg, she couldn't quite tell, and brought it to her.

"Here." The deep baritone was like the softest of silk to her senses.

Baast held out her hands for the meat. His bare fingers grazed her palm as the hot meal hit her flesh, and grease trickled through her fingers.

"Thank you," she managed to force from a throat gone tight with emotion.

"It's hot. Be careful."

She stuffed down the aching need to reach out and feel the lips that produced such a voice and smiled crookedly instead. "Too long have you travelled with only Grogu for company."

He chuckled. "Perhaps."

Another wave of needy desire hit her, but Baast fought it off. She would not doom him to a half-life with an unfinished bond.

She ate and made sure he ate once Grogu was fed, asking questions about the child and how they came to be together simply to keep him talking. His voice was a balm to a soul grown used to silence.

When they finally finished their meal, she waited for him to return his helmet and come to release the blindfold. His hands were deft, skilled, and careful not to pull her hair.

Baast blinked to adjust to the quickly blooming daylight, then retied her pant leg as Din smothered the fire. She reached for Grogu and stood, ready to leave.

"I can carry him."

She tilted her head, already missing the gentle ebb and flow of the Force from him, now encased in all that beskar. "Do you object to me carrying him because you think I am weak or out of principle because he is your foundling?"

"Uh…"

She arched a brow. "Do not underestimate me, Mando. I live because I am jatnese be te jatnese. The best of the best."

"I know what it means," he huffed.

"Then stop being ori'buyce, kih'kovid," she smirked. "I will care for the child as you have cared for me."

"Atin," he muttered.

She didn't protest because, yes, she was stubborn.

"Fine." She could almost hear a pout in his modulated voice as he turned and marched out of their temporary camp. "And I'm not all helmet," he grumbled, likely thinking she couldn't hear him.

Baast smirked and gave Grogu a wink. "Come along, ad'ika. We weak ones best keep up with the big strong Mandalorian," she teased.

"I will leave you behind."

She grinned at his back. "No, you will not."

***

By the time they reached the Razor Crest, he was sweating in his beskar again, but with the luxury of the fresher within sight, Din didn't let it bother him.

He disarmed the ground defences and lowered the hatch, heading inside to get them underway. He wanted off the planet before anyone else thought to come looking for Baast'mal.

Hopefully, the Alor would know who to bribe to falsify a new chain code for her. Either that, or there would be an all-out war to eliminate the threat and bounty on her head. Or, she would spend the rest of her life hunted by the Empire.

He hated that thought. Baast was not a creature who should spend her life hiding. She should be allowed out into the light, a creature of hope and beauty.

Though he hadn't seen the true colour of her eyes, the rest of her was so mesh'la, when he'd removed his helmet, it had momentarily taken his breath. And without the helmet, her scent had filled his nose like something he'd loved and long forgotten. It was warm, soft, and decadent, all things a Mandalorian put off when he put on the beskar.

It was getting harder and harder to keep his hands to himself.

She closed the ramp and followed him to the ladder, climbing up with Grogu to slip into the seat back and to his right.

"Once we've left the atmosphere, you're welcome to the fresher, food, whatever you need," he offered, getting them airborne.

"Do I smell?"

He froze. "That wasn't what-"

Her laugher, that throaty purr, cut him off. "It's fine, Mando. An actual fresher after years of lakes and waterfalls will be pleasant."

"Hm. I have to make a stop on Nevarro, then another before we go to Tatooine. Is there anything you need?"

"Clothing. A cloak. And a weapon."

They cleared the planet, and he made the jump into hyperspace before turning around. "What kind?"

"Short sabres or staff will do."

He watched her pet Grogu's ears, gently using those long claws in such a fashion the kid was almost comatose in bliss. She sat with one foot propped on the seat, comfortably leaning on the armrest. He wondered if her skin would begin to lose its sun-kissed nature now that she was off-world.

"How did you learn to fight?" he asked, forcing himself not to think about her skin and how soft it was.

"Mandalorians are not the only warrior race. Zentari are taught from birth; the rest I learned from the idiots who held me captive. They sought to make me a weapon or a slave, with that came training, but Zentari are not so easily coerced, nor do we forget the slaughter of thousands. I am no weak-minded individual to be controlled by some Sith," she spat.

"Sith?" He knew next to nothing about Force-wielders and felt the lack of knowledge acutely.

"They oppose all things the Jedi stand for, desiring power over peace or balance. They corrupt what they touch.."

"And how does a Zentari hold out against someone so powerful?" He didn't wish to insult her, but surely a child against a master Sith couldn't win.

She sighed and looked away, watching the lights of hyperspace. "Zentari are neither good nor evil. We are Force neutral. The blood bonds distinguish much of our future. To avoid creating bonds with those that would bring harm was why Zentarus was so well hidden. But someone betrayed us. They used to brag about it, the Imps. How one who we trusted gave us up to the Empire."

"If you are Force neutral, why allow Mandalorians to know of Zentarus? Why let us come seeking mates?"

She shot those vibrant eyes back in his direction. "Because the Way was honourable once. Perhaps, at some point, Mandalore was led astray by their leader, but that was not our doing. Those that came to us knew the Way. They humbled themselves before us, and if they were denied, they left knowing such was not their destiny. Those who came knowing not the Way… did not leave Zentarus alive."

"Then I am glad I knew the Way," he murmured, wondering who would have won between the two of them had she not revealed herself.

"As am I," she nodded, looking as regal as the Sand Panther she claimed in her blood.

"Were the Jedi not part of your Way?"

She scowled. "The Jedi saw us as a threat. Naturally born Force users who required little training to do much of what they could, who lived for generations, and who were neither good nor evil. They feared what would happen if we were corrupted. An attempt was made to wipe us out. It failed, and we Zentari veiled Zentarus from those who knew not where to look."

"And that's why you didn't want to help us," he sighed, realizing the untenable position he'd put her in.

She stood, placing the sleeping Grogu down on her seat before taking the step she needed to stand between his spread knees. Her hands lifted to land lightly on the sides of his helmet, gliding over the metal. "It is no longer a want but a need. I will not watch Grogu fall to the side of the Sith because of my fear of the Jedi. He must be trained."

She leaned down and rested her forehead against his helmet as long lashes veiled her eyes. "This is the Way."

Without his permission, Din's hands found her hips and drew her incrementally closer. "I will protect you, Baast."

"We will protect each other."

He hummed his agreement and wondered at the low ripple of sound vibrating through his chest.

Next chapter

#Star-Crossed #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x ofc #star-crossed:bound by blood

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aloesarchives · 5 years ago

Text

Dad Headcanons (Wakatsuki & Gaolang)

Word Count: 3998 words

Featuring these two men because they’re only ones that I can think of that like the idea of being a dad but and write a lot for them.

(A/N): I had to put in default names because when writing this I had a hard time writing without giving names to the kids since I kinda gave them a personality and stuff.

Gaolang

You two have a daughter and a son who are three years apart, Lawana and Kiet.

Since he’s an ideal house husband, being a good dad isn’t out of the question.

Gaolang is different around his kids well like, not really, but it’s pretty obvious to you. He smiles so much more when he holds them, talks to them a little more when they ask him something, comforting them when they have nightmares. His stoic facade is gone and it’s emotionally more expression Gaolang.

There is this tenderness he has when he’s with his kids. The soft look in his eyes and the gentle aura is enough to tell you that he really cares for his kids.

Gaolang isn’t really an overbearing parent but he’s always keeps an eye out for his kids and looking out for them.

Gaolang is pretty chill parent. Strict isn’t the right word for him though, but will be authoritative to his kids when things happens. Not yelling and full on rage, he just knows how to put it in the manner that his children will get the message. I’m guessing Gaolang’s aura but idk.

Yeah, between the two of you, he is the disciplinary one. Again, no hitting of any sort or negative reinforcements, but Gaolang knows how to talks to his kiddos when they done something wrong/or stepped far over the line.

It’s a given that you and your kids watch Gaolang’s boxing matches. There’s no if or buts, you never miss any of his matches because your daughter and son would always remind you to turn on the tv and watch him fight. Gosh, the look of awe and amazement in their eyes makes you smile so genuine. They love rooting for their papa whose fighting in the right. When Gaolang does his flash, the kiddos squeal with excitement. More so, when Gaolang wins his matches, your kids are jumping for joy and chanting their happiness on their papa’s win.

Lawana: Mama, Mama, Mama!!! Did you see that?!? Papa won, Papa won!

(Y/N): Yes, sweetie, Papa indeed won.

Kiet: Woah, Papa is so cool! Look how he hit the guy in the face and he hit the ground with a BAM!

(Y/N): *chuckles* Isn’t your Papa amazing, you two?

Lawana & Kiet: YEAH!!!

When Gaolang gets back from being abroad, he is off for a few days and stays home to which you let him sleep in the morning due to his jet lag. During those time, your kids stumble into your room and climb onto the bed to wake the two of you up. You’re always awake first since your sleep schedule isn’t as messed up as Gaolang’s and gently tell Lawana and Kiet to let their dad sleep some more. Surprising enough, your kids behave and not bother Gaolang when he’s sleeping.

Gaolang is that type of parent that teaches his kids life lesson in any shape or form at any given time. Not like the bs type of try hard quirky quotes 14 yr old girls would say, he teaches them that aren’t opposites of each other. It’s the more simple one that he teaches them at a young age but gives out more complex ones as they get older. They learn a lot what your husband says and have so many epiphanies growing and experiencing life as it goes. The two will thank their dad (and you, don’t worry) later on for teaching those life lessons/ passing down some simple wisdom.

I would like to propose a headcanon that Gaolang gets souvenirs for them kiddos. He gets them stuff animals and small gifts when he’s put abroad. Your kids have a lot of stuff animals. Your daughter has this cute elephant she carries around and your son has a dragon he got while he’s in Japan. Since it’s from Gaolang, they always are holding it with them every time they’re in the house. It never leaves them because they love it so much.

Gaolang likes to carry his kids around in his arms. His absolute favorite moment when he comes home from work/abroad and your kids running towards him with you trailing behind them. He then smiles at his children and scoops them up in his arms as they hug him and tell him that they’re happy he’s home. Gaolang loves these moments. Sometimes when he’s awake in the morning and one of your kids is somehow up, he’ll hold them in one arm while fixing coffee(if you drink it) and breakfast. But it’s evident when they love being held by Gaolang because they would get fussy when Gaolang leaves them for a few seconds before being placed back into his arms again when they were really small.

Lawana is daddy’s little girl. Gaolang have no favorites between the two but since Lawana is older by three years, she does have a closer relationship to Gaolang than Kiet does. But this is because ever since you had Lawana, she’s always with Gaolang. Well wants to be, anyway. When she was little, he also followed Gaolang around the house whenever he’s home, minus when he needs to use the bathroom and she just hangs out with you until he comes out. Oh my god, when Gaolang has to go to work, she doesn’t want him to leave. She always is tugging at his pants and saying he shouldn’t leave because then you and her would be left alone. Then it’s up to Gaolang to gently tell her that has work to do and will be back later. Once Gaolang leaves for work, she gets pouty for a bit and you have to comfort her and said that Gaolang will always come back home. She gets over this as she grow older and only gets happy when he returns.

Kiet is more of a momma’s boy but still has a good relationship with his Gaolang. They get along pretty well because they’re both silent and don’t talk so much. They have this thing where they just stare at each other but you can tell that they are having a conversation of their own that you don’t even know what they’re saying to each other. He really respects Gaolang by a lot and wants to be a respectable man like him.

Both Lawana and Kiet idolize Gaolang;however, Gaolang is Lawana’s role model. She wants to become a great Mauy Thai fighter and boxer just like him. Although Kiet highly respects his father, it’s not a strong enough force to have the same effect on him like his sister.

For some reason, your children instantly fall asleep into Gaolang’s arms. You don’t know what but your kids instantly become calm when done so and the the next thing you know they’re dead asleep in his arms. At times you envy him for having this ability but Gaolang, himself, doesn’t know this since he just thinks that they are just tired and need to sleep.

Since Gaolang’s a godly chef, you’re kids aren’t picky eaters. They’ll eat whatever Gaolang cooks, which is more than okay with you since you like his cooking as well.

Speaking of cooking, Gaolang would sometimes let the kiddos help out with cooking. He doesn’t make them touch the stove, fire, knifes, practically anything dangerous until they are quite older (Maybe around like 10-12). He believes that they should know how to cook or basics so they know how to feed themselves when they’re on their own. Then again, Gaolang is more than welcome to cook for his children.

Knowing this, Gaolang and you have them get involve in chores to teach them responsibility and be productive with their time. He wants to teach them good habits.

Gaolang’s Lock screen is a family portrait of your family, which looks sophisticated but sweet. Then his home screen is you smiling in the background while your children are playing in-front of you.

Bruh, When they say “I love you Papa”, it’s literally endgame. Gaolang.exe stopped working. On the outside, he smiles or chuckles at his kids and saying “I love you too”. But on the inside, his brain stops working and he kinda just goes soft in that moment. His kids are so precious and adorable that the even the stoic Thai God of War can’t help but smile at them.

Gaolang will tuck Lawana and Kiet in bed if you’re too tired or finishing up something and you can’t do it yourself. He’s the type of parent to place his children to sleep, kiss their foreheads, lovingly stare at them and turn off the light in their rooms before leaving. I like to think when Gaolang has difficulty sleeping, not common but it happens from time to time, he sometimes walks over to the kids’s room to check up on them. He just leaves the door ajar enough for him to see them sleeping. It’s not creepy but he can’t help but experience a small amount of sentiment. It’s not a bad feeling, but it is a different feeling that would be hard to describe in words, even in Gaolang’s standards.

If your kids show interest in fighting, more specifically in Muay Thai and Boxing, Gaolang is fine with it as long you’re okay with it as well. If you allow them, Gaolang will teach them to the best of his abilities, basically really good teachings. I wouldn’t say Gaolang is super strict on their training, but there are some points where he has to use tough love on them to help push them past their limits and strengthen them. However, Gaolang does tell them from time to time that he’s proud of them and that the tough training he put them will bear fruit, and they’re be rewarded the fruits of their labor.

I just want to put it out there that you and Gaolang’s kids are powerful fighters. I mean with your children’s father/your husband being the Thai God of War and the undisputed heavyweight boxing champion, your children have high fighting potential. Gaolang is aware of what his name brings and sits his kiddos down to tell them he doesn’t want nor expect them to be just like him and fulfill his legacy. Rather, he wants them to make a name for themselves that they can be proud and not become pompous and greed in the process. That’s all Gaolang really wishes from them. But either, your kiddos have not disappointed you nor Gaolang one bit.

One of your favorite moments is when your kids try to imitates Gaolang’s expression, which is most likely always the stoic one. You find it cute and funny how your kids to look like their father and at one point you joked that if they kept doing it that would be their regular facial expression. Gaolang doesn’t really mind his kids doing this, but he does get a kick out of it when he does see them doing it.

At some point, your children have been meet and interacted with King Rama. It was also him wanting to see you and Gaolang’s children and holding and interacting with them, but you didn’t hear it from me.

Proud Husband and Family man, you couldn’t ask for a better man. Gaolang loves his kids and you, you love Gaolang and the kiddos, and the kiddos love you and Gaolang very much.

Wakatsuki

At this point, we all knew he was going/wanting to be a dad for a while.

You have Twin boys, Katashi and Tadashi, and a daughter, Kei, with a five year gap.

For the first few months when they’re born, Wakatsuki doesn’t really hold them that much out of fear that he would hurt them due to his superman syndrome. It took you awhile to convince him that he would never hurt them since every time he has held you he never hurt you at all, and that his control over his strength has improved over the years. Once he’s comfortable to hold them, he’s world just stops. Since he’s a pretty big guy, his kids look so tiny in his arms, the size difference makes them so precious that Wakatsuki gets a flurry of emotions from just holding them.

Wakatsuki, like Gaolang, isn’t an overbearing parent. He gives them some good distance and watches on the sidelines. He’ll give them some advice when they ask him for some.

He likes to watch his kids play video-games and ask them what they’re doing. It’s a good way he bonds with his kids since he grew up playing video games. It’s so wholesome to see them interact with their father and Wakatsuki learning and understanding certain aspects of the game. I like to think Wakatsuki is really good at video games and sometimes he helps his kiddos out when they need to(to the best of your abilities, of course)

Wakatsuki has a hard time setting his foot down when it comes to his children. The man can’t help it though. The small pout they have, the big teary doe eyes, and small sniffles, he can’t help but not get made at his kiddos and processed to comfort them. You know this because you walked in on him doing this on more than one occasion. Due to this, you are, unfortunately, the disciplinary when it comes to that point. Sorry about that.

The kids basically use their dad as a jungle gym. Wakatsuki is pretty strong so he doesn’t really mind them doing this, hell Wakatsuki actually enjoys them doing this even though you told them to not bother their dad. The man is so sturdy, there’s no way that he will be in any sort of pain or exhaustion.

You caught your kids sleeping on top of Wakatsuki on more than one occasion. When you come home from work, most of the time you see your kiddos napping on husband on the sofa. It’s so cute you take a picture before they wake up from their small nap. This also applies when they sleep in your bed when they were younger. Before Kei was born, the twins would always climb into bed with the two of you. Most of the time, they slept in between the two of you in the small space in the middle. It was a wholehearted moment for Wakatsuki, the sight of you laying with the boys had him getting all soft and emotional. But when your daughter is born, the level goes up to never before seen heights. When it’s just her and not the boys, she quietly goes to Wakatsuki’s side of the bed and softly pokes him awake. To which he opens one eye to see it’s her, picks her up, lays on his back with her placed on his chest. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, she really precious to him. You know what really gets his soft and sentimental is when all the kiddos are sleeping on his chest and with you tucked into his side while using his shoulder as a pillow. The man is literally is having an emotional crisis by looking at your small family, he’s almost in tears. He’s so grateful and blessed to have such a beautiful family and you as his wife/spouse.

Wakatsuki is a doting father for sure. Not like in the Mae Hughes type of way, he’s knows how to control himself when it comes to his kids and is subtle when he’s doing it. But he really loves his kids and you so much.

Tadashi and Katashi are kinda similar to Takeshi but are more expressive and outspoken than he is. And they seem to know how to blend in with the crowd. They are both gentle boys, like their father.

Kei is always the one that’s getting the attention of Wakatsuki. He loves the boys but having a daughter hits different for Wakatsuki. She pretty much gets spoiled by you and Takeshi, hell even by her own brothers. She’s kinda has your hubby wrapped around her finger since he can’t say no to her. Absolute sweetheart though.

I had this headcanon where you and Wakatsuki’s kids have something similar to him where their muscle mass is denser than the average human. Not like Wakatsuki’s, probably even way less than that, but it’s enough to be more than the average person. The twins would probably almost be as tall and built like him if they ever hit the rack/gym. While your daughter is slightly taller than your average female and is strong and toned. In short, your kids can be absolute powerhouse if they decided to take up fighting but it depends if your husband and you allow them to do so.

Since he likes baseball by a long shot, he probably will play catch with his boys and Kei if they ask him. His throws aren’t hard, he ain’t about to destroy his kids with his inhuman strength, that’s his worst nightmare. In its simplicity, this is how he bonds with his kiddos most of the time. It’s also good too because they need some sunshine and not be stuck inside all the time. Sure, it looks boring but it gets fun as time goes that you have to call them to come inside most of the time.

Just like with you, he loves to cuddle with his kids. He just likes holding his kids, in general. With the twin boys, one in each arm as he walks around the house. His daughter though, always wants to be held by her dad. There is not one moment where you didn’t see Kei hugging or being held by Wakatsuki. As they get older, he gives them space and isn’t as affectionate with them like when they were younger. However, it doesn’t mean they’ll refuse a hug from him because, let’s be honest, he gives out really good hugs and you are a witness to it.

Due to him being so big and strong, your kids ask him to crush cans, bottles, or even lift certain boxes. I believe it was @kengan-ass that said that Wakatsuki would this to keep their attention and have them not get distracted. Your kids love when he does it since he can do it was such ease, it almost makes him prideful to have such strength.

Tadashi: Hey Dad! Can you crush this can? Takeshi: Sure thing, son. Takeshi: *crushes can with minimum effort Tadashi: Woah... Katashi: Dad, what about this one? Takeshi: Sure Takeshi: *crushes the can with ease Kei: Daddy, what about this one? Takeshi: I got it, Kei Takeshi: *literally flattens it the can into a thin disk The kiddos: Wow, Dad’s so strong! Takeshi:*dying from their praise and cuteness

He relies on his kids a lot to help him with understanding technology and slang these days and it’s so funny to watch. It’s like a complex problem to him but it’s so simple to your kids that you’re watching a generational gap or something. Bet Wakatsuki says things like “kids these days” or “back in my time” and your kids unironically calling him “Old man” or “Boomer”. You saw this once and you couldn’t control your laughter. But it’s just playful banter between the kiddos and their father, no harm is done there.

At some point when your children were fairly young and sleeping in the night, Takeshi talked to you about his thoughts and him contemplating on still being a fighter. You listen with open ears and mind to him as he explains to you that he has you and a family to take care, and with the uncertainty of the kengan matches, he doesn’t wanna risk himself dying you and your kids would lose him. You struck you hard, not in a bad way but more on shock value, you knew fighting was everything to your Takeshi because that’s all he had before he had you and his kids. Even with you though, he still continue to fight but when you had your kids it became a whole different story. The thought of his kids and you losing him in one of these matches gave him an unholy feeling and the thought of leaving you all behind was enough to stress him to make grow silent for a few minutes. This was serious because you can tell in his eyes that it was hard for him and the thought of it could put him on the brink of tears. After some thought, you told him that he can still fight in the Kengan matches because of only a handful of fighters that can rival him as a fighter. You also reminded him of the promise that he made where he can still keep on fighter but he has to be careful and not die. After you said that, it give Wakatsuki more than enough reason to continue fighting and not die.

When the kiddos say “I love you” to Takeshi, it’s literally game over for him. After hearing those words, he hugs them and says “I love you too” back but he’s brain kinda stops working and just internally screaming. He just really adores his kids.

They calls Cosmo “big bro” and Adam too when he’s with Cosmo. You can bet that Cosmo, and eventually Adam, babysits your kids. Tadashi and Katashi are rough housing with Cosmo while Kei, for some reason, hangs out with Adam. Oddly enough, Adam doesn’t swear around them at all and is actually the more authoritative than Cosmo since Cosmo is still has a mindset of a child. But you still care for and appreciate him and Adam for doing this.

Your kids also know Sekibayashi, who they call “Uncle Seki”, and Kaede and Sakura. They’ve meet them enough times to remember and be familiar with them. They probably watch pro wrestling because of Sekibayashi.

Your kids will not find out that their father was a underground fighter until they’re 18 or older. He doesn’t want them to know and be dragged into this and you couldn’t blame him. It’s safe to say they won’t know until he either tells them about it or you tell them.

I don’t know why, but I feel like your kids would be protective of you when you go out with them without Wakatsuki. This is a thought I had where since Wakatsuki isn’t always by you all the time he asks his kids to watch over you even though you’re okay. This mostly happens in grocery stores or shopping. They kinda watch from afar but don’t like it when men talk to you because it’s aren’t their father. It gets worse when they’re older aka teenagers, Kei knows you can take care of you but Tadashi and Katashi are a different story. Since they’re almost as tall as their dad and are kinda look/built like their dad, they can intimidate the hell out of people, specifically scummy men that won’t leave you alone. They won’t hurt anyone;however, they will tower over them and ask them to leave you alone to which the guy would leave. It’s strange to you because Takeshi isn’t like that most of the time but it does happen that he does steps in. You guess it’s something they picked up from their father. (I wrote this because I’m like this with my mom even though I’m not that tall).

He love you and your kiddos so much, he never expected himself to have this type of life but you gave him the chance to have one and he’s so blessed and grateful to have such a wonderful family.

There are so many heartwarming moments in this family, omg, you might as well die from how cute it is.

The man fights for you and the kiddos. Them and you are what keep him going during his matches.

Bona fide family man, father, and husband. Such a wholesome, gentle father and husband.

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kengan ashura headcanons #wakatsuki takeshi #gaolang wongsawat

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Hiding In Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Two AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.

You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.

How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

RATING: General Audience

Raven worked diligently on the room. Growing up, she had to adhere to the very strict upbringing which she had that did not permit her to do very much for herself, which always irked her greatly. There were some things that she knew she would never be good at, cooking being one such example. Somehow, she still had not figured it out for herself, she managed to set a bowl of porridge on fire. She loved sewing and embroidering, she loved working the needle and thread until a design was created, it was something she always adored so much so that her maid used to be forced to endure Raven staring at her as she mended anything that needed fixing through the years but such was seen as beneath a princess so she did not get to do it often herself, though she had convinced the maid to teach her. She also liked to decide for herself where she would place her belongings and how the room should look but such was not allowed and she was often admonished for doing such things. She was the daughter of the king, she was often told, she was not to do such menial things, they were beneath her station. The issue for Raven was that she was the only daughter of the king, born amidst four brothers. Something of an anomaly in Ljósálfar royalty. Very few Light Elf kings had ever sired a daughter. She often felt something of a black sheep of her family, never truly feeling like she fitted in.

Her brothers always knew what it was they were to do with their lives; the eldest, Dafydd was to be king, trained for the role since childhood, he would be a good king, if not slightly fond of a hunt more than a trade meeting, the second oldest, Johann was a soldier at heart, earning his way legitimately through the ranks of the Ljósálfar army and would by everyone’s predictions, be general someday. With a good relationship with his brother, it would be nothing but a blessing in everyone’s eyes as kings and generals often clashed heads. The third, Richard was to be made Lord of the Lowlands, a title usually bestowed to the second son of the King but Johann renounced his claim to it as high ranking soldiers were not allowed such titles and he rather earn his own, so that left Richard with a good living as well. The last and youngest, Kieran had learnt early that fighting was the exact opposite to what he wanted in life. Instead, he loved tending to its injured and much to his family’s startled pride, he decided as a youth to become a healer and was studying diligently to do so. Amongst them all, Raven’s life seemed somewhat less defined yet incredibly more restricted. She was given no role for so long and now was forced to one she knew she would most likely have but to one she never thought possible. She could not fathom how it came to be that she was to wed someone so notably high born as the second prince of Asgard, the son and brother of the current and future Allfathers. When her father first stated it, she thought him to be having some form of a peculiar joke, but when his face remained stoic and none seemed to see anything funny in what was being said, she realised he was entirely serious.

She loved the sound of the cloth squeaking against the mirror as she worked. If anything, the experience was fun for her. Most days were dull and boring for her, long hours of reading and writing in areas that were entirely uninteresting. She liked a good book on occasion but she liked them to be on matters that interested her, most commonly, a genre known as thriller, not something befitting a princess. She often hid those books so none would know she read them but then it made finding time to read them difficult. This far surpassed reading about the history of trade between Alfheim and Vanaheim. Most would think her mad had she stated such, but it was true nonetheless.

She heard Loki’s return before she saw him. A low irate growl rang out around the rooms. “Maid...Norns, what is your name again, Raven...no, Brianna...Norn’s what is it?”

“Breanna, Your Grace.” Raven rushed from the bathroom where she had been shining the glass to see Loki, noting the manner in which he was presently standing in front of her, hair tousled, twigs in it and a mud smear on his face. “Oh, are you alright?”

“Well, at least one person cared to ask me and it had to be a foreign maid, of course, not my supposed friends or indeed my family,” Loki growled to no one. “I am fine. Breanna, of course. Run me a bath.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she bowed and rushed into the bathroom once more.

Loki watched her for a moment before walking in after her. “Where did you learn to bow like that?”

Raven, thinking the question to be entirely obscure, turned to look at him. “Sorry, Your Grace?”

“Who taught you to bow? You’re female, females do not bow, you are supposed to curtsey.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he spoke.

“I…” Raven had only done the bow to be swift but seeing his reaction, she was unsure what to say. “I don’t have the balance for that.”

Loki’s brow rose. “The balance?”

“I tried but it ended badly.”

Loki folded his arms and leant against the door frame, a smile forming on his face. “Well now, this sounds interesting.”

“I tried to learn, I was even given a tutor because I was not getting it. I kept crossing my ankles wrong and I ended up….” Her eyes darted to the side embarrassed.

“Oh, please continue.”

“Falling….into a…” She toyed with her hands slightly. If Loki had not been listening so astutely, he would not have heard the final word that she all but mouthed. “Fountain.”

Loki tried, to his credit, not to laugh at her. He bit his lips together and willed himself not to do so but he failed as her face went an interesting colour of red at the memory. He did not last long before his failure became vocal and he laughed heartily at it.

The laugh was not a malicious one, something she could take solace in but it did not stop her feeling embarrassed. The story was a true one, she did indeed struggle to curtsey when she was young. With her brothers, in informal settings, she did bow but had long mastered the curtsey also. Her unique form of training in that her unsuccessful attempt led to a thorough soaking left a lasting impression on her. “So as you can see, bowing suits me better.”

Loki cleared his throat and forced himself to stop laughing but his smile was still blatant. “I would wager that was somewhat hilarious.”

“It would have been, I laughed myself for a time, only my father saw it and was none-too-pleased. He did not think it to be so amusing.”

“He sounds as stoic as my own father.” Loki all but snarled the words, his previous good humour dissipating as he thought of his father.

“I do think them to be of similar mindsets.”

“At least you are free of your father. I am stuck seeing mine every day.”

“I know him to be strict but if I am honest, I miss him and the rest of my family dearly. Being on an entirely different realm is so difficult, a lot of the time.” Raven did not mean to be so honest but at that moment, it slipped through.

“I wish I could be on a different realm. I am sick of them all.”

“We all think that until we get that wish, then all we wish for is to have what we had before.” Raven felt herself becoming slightly annoyed at Loki, her tone became more clipped as she spoke. “I will get your bath readied, Your Highness. I would suggest that you ready yourself for such without twigs in your hair.” She gave another slight bow before turning to continue her work, not wanting to accidentally reveal her true identity to him.

Loki, stunned into silence by her demeanour and tone and the manner in which she spoke to him, took a moment to look in a mirror to assess his appearance only to see her words, to be honest. There was indeed debris from his scuffle in his hair. Miffed at everything, he decided to say nothing more, allow his maid to do as she was supposed to and prepare for his bath.

Loki had no idea what it was that was used for his bath, but his aching muscles seemed to soothe as soon as he submerged himself in the water. He groaned from the comfort of it all before enjoying his bath, his tension disappearing as he did so.

When he came out of his bath a time later and into the front part of his rooms, dressed in only his pants, he noted that his maid was busy trying to organise some books. “Do you find such things taxing?”

Raven looked over her shoulder at him. “When one decides to have no order at all, I find it distressing, not taxing.”

Loki felt insulted by her tone. “I do have an order, excuse you. Just because you cannot see it does not make it so.”

Raven stood back slightly. “It is neither chronological nor alphabetical, it makes little to no sense.”

Loki frowned. “Chrono….how in the realms would you even know the chronological order?”

“So because I am a maid, I cannot know the chronological order, is that what you are saying? Do you think me to be so unintelligent as to not know the order of some books? Do you look down on others so?” she did not snap the words emotionally as others would at being spoken to in such a tone but kept her voice calm yet clearly displaying how insulting his words were.

“I did not claim that you were unintelligent.” Loki found himself backpedalling very quickly. “Only, those books…”

“Are of Alfheim, as I am, so of all the maids here to have any knowledge of such things, I should know such and do not even dare suggest that you think it’s because I should not know how to read.”

“Do not put words into my mouth.” Loki became angered at what she was implying. Especially ones so demeaning.”

“The words already in there do not seem much better.”

For a moment, both royals stood face to face, glaring at one another. “Before I went for a bath, you seemed to be the only one to care about my wellbeing after the situation today but now you are worse than others.” He turned to leave.

“I should mention, your female companion called by while you were in the bath,” Raven informed him. “She let me know your opinion on us dim, airheaded Light Elves and your opinion on our Princess, the one you are to marry. What can I say, it left a bad taste in my mouth.” Raven walked off leaving Loki startled in her wake.

#Loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #hiding #chapter 2 #wolfpawn

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wolfpawn · 4 years ago

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Hiding in Plain Sight, Chapter 2

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - Raven starts to work for Loki but it is not long before she is tested and is forced to remain calm in fear of revealing herself.

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