#It’s amusing and often somewhat fondly-embarrassing at times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wnapelolaiss · 3 years ago

Text

Souya Kawata & Nahoya Kawata X Reader

Smut Warning +18

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP.

Do not modify and if you share remember to give credits. +3k Words.

Pd: English is not my first language so there may be mistakes, thousand apologies.

"Nahoya!" you quickly ran to Smiley. Your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your body and hugged you slightly separating you from the ground. "Until you got here."

"Sorry for the delay" you smiled at him helplessly. Smiley released you against the ground and left an intense kiss on your mouth. He parted your lips to let his tongue play with yours playfully for a bit and broke away shortly.

The boy is intense, always

"__________" You separated from Smiley, to greet angry in the same way. The blue-haired boy wrapped his arms around you, intertwining his hands behind your back. He left a few light kisses on your neck to greet you. "Did the meeting just end?" You said, pulling away from your boyfriend. Smiley nodded along with his brother. "Was it boring as usual?"

"Something like that" Angry emitted a grimace.

"I'm still not used to seeing this" Said the blond boy. He passed by the side of you Baji and Chifuyu, the black-haired one watched them with some amusement as he nudged the other. Baji was always bothering him with the same thing. Chifuyu every time he saw the three of you, it was like a novelty to him, something completely different.

Goals

"Chifuyu is an exaggerator." Baji smiled at you, waving. "He's jealous because he only has his cat keeping him company." said Smiley, he hugged you from behind affectionately. You and Baji started laughing.

"That's not true." you heard Chifuyu say already setting off on his way away from you. You and your boyfriends ignored him. Smiley guffawed after a few seconds. "If he's jealous" Angry opined next to you. You grabbed his hand, intertwining it with your own. Angry watched your hands together for a few seconds.

He loved it when you took the initiative in public, it made him feel like you noticed him just like Smiley.

While Nahoya was too demonstrative in public he didn't dare, Angry was always more shy. So he thanked you for being that way with him, always reaching for his hand and looking at him while his brother hugged you.

All so he wouldn't feel left out.

"_______, hi" Mitsuya and Hakkai greeted you as they walked past you. "And goodbye."

What about these ones?

"Why are you all rushing around so much?" you asked the twins, as they also passed Mikey and Takemichi, running alongside you. "Draken lost a bet and now he has to buy you all dinner" Souya explained to you. In the distance and at the end of everyone came the aforementioned, very crestfallen and somewhat angry. He didn't even say goodbye, just walked past you, complaining about the money he would spend on the others.

"You guys aren't going?" you observed Smiley and then Angry, both denied.

"We said we'd rather be with you" Angry didn't remove his frown, but still said it fondly. Only to you he spoke so nicely and without embarrassment.

"Awwwww" you turned to them to hug them both, they each put one of their hands on your back, reciprocating your hug. "And were they not ashamed? That they are so cute…"

"Actually... a little" Smiley made you laugh at what he said. They practically stood before their friends as if you bossed them both around or they preferred you over them. Or both.

Maybe how much teasing they said to your boyfriends.

"It's starting to get cold, shall we go?" you broke off and looked at Angry, nodded at his question. "It's my turn to drive you this time, ________"

"Mmmm damn, I thought you'd forget" Nahoya wanted to give you a ride on her bike, she always wanted to. Angry stuck his tongue out at her and took your hand to lead you to his motorcycle. Nahoya claimed all along the way. It wasn't that unusual to see teenagers with you very often, some people thought they were just friends or even siblings. Most of the time, you went hand in hand with both of them on either side, and at others, Smiley would get a little too close to you. Souya was more reserved, in public he didn't dare to kiss you for example. Maybe that's why no one noticed their special relationship.

That changed as the years went by.

Souya, in time, wasn't so embarrassed to show you affection in public, and little by little people watched you with more attention than expected. Smiley would tease you a little and even kiss you on purpose in the middle of all the people to provoke more astonishment. He would even tell Angry to kiss you for added impact. When they decided to open the ramen place, they didn't see each other as much as usual. Even if they are living together, they hardly ever coincided.

Or at least until today.

"Go" Smiley encouraged you. You got up and walked over to Angry to hang on his neck and start giving him little kisses on his cheek, guiding them to his mouth.

"_________, I have to go take a bath first" Angry whined placing his hand on your waist. "Go with Nahoya" you denied and hung on wrapping your legs around his hips, you kissed him on the mouth intensely.

Angry didn't resist your kisses and held you, lowering both hands to your ass, pulling you further up on his pelvis. You kept kissing him no matter what, enveloping his tongue with yours, forcing him to open his mouth to reciprocate the kiss more deeply. "I still want attention _______, my turn!" Nahoya called out to you still lying on the bed, stroking his member with some impatience. Angry had shown up in the middle of the heated session you were having with Smiley, your smiling boyfriend was only in boxers.

Better for you that he had arrived at this time.

Angry looked sideways at his twin and walked over to him. Reaching the bed he pulled you apart to stop hugging him and do as his older brother asked.

"But, Souya!" you claimed to him after feeling how he left you sitting on Smiley. "Are you going to leave me alone with Nahoya?" you emitted a pout. Angry watched you with some excitement flickering in his eyes.

"He must be tired, let him go." Smiley hugged you from behind and took the opportunity to grab one of your breasts from under your underwear, only the lacy outfit covered your body. Angry followed his hand with his eyes and how he caressed your skin. "It's not that I'm tired, I'm just..." Angry fell silent as he watched you settle into Nahoya chest and watched him intently. You smiled at him and subsequent to that, you opened your mouth somewhat pained by the squeeze Smiley left on your breast.

Flirting with my boyfriend wasn't bad, was it?

Angry scratched his eyebrow with some impatience, doubtful for not knowing what to do.

Nahoya was amused by the situation. Her back was leaning against the back of the bed, one hand hugging you against her crotch and the other groping you under your bra.

"Okay, go take a bath, love" you said, so he wouldn't get discouraged or regret not accepting your proposal. Angry nodded his head and stepped back, turned and walked into the bathroom.

"He's a grouch" Smiley whispered in your ear. His voice against your skin tickled you, you let out a squeaky giggle. "Where were we?"

"I don't remember" you played a little with your boyfriend. Nahoya brought her hands up to your back and you moved a little away from her abdomen so she could pull your bra off easier.

"How forgetful my pretty girlfriend is" she purred softly. She was quite cheesy at times. She got rid of your bra and dropped it to the side. "Go away, you annoying useless garment."

"Smiley" you snapped at him to get serious for once. It was impossible though. Smiley left naughty little kisses against your bare neck and shoulders.

"Mhm?" he hugged you from the waist and wiggled you against his noticeable erection. You were still literally sitting on him. You denied and dropped the back of your neck to his left shoulder, Smiley turned his face to you and began kissing your cheek, seeking your mouth. He began kissing you with intensity, both hands grabbed each of your breasts on the spot, massaging both at the same time. You grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to your face, in the kiss your tongues met, licking each other.

You could hear the shower running amidst the sound of their wet kisses.

You pulled slightly away from Nahoya's mouth and your boyfriend smiled close to your face as he felt you stir under his touch. His fingers fiddled with the tops of your breasts, then squeezed, cupped each of your breasts to give them a subtle grope. It was amazing how Smiley's touch made you more and more aroused.

Well, he was an expert at making things with his hands. You'd seen that over the years of our relationship.

"If you moan louder I don't complain" he was also very talkative at times. And mostly teasing. "Are you trying to be quiet?"

You gave his hair a tug and the boy immediately groaned, left a bite on your cheek out of the blue. Smiley!" you nudged him with your free arm and your boyfriend started laughing at the top of his lungs. "Okay, I don't feel like it anymore " you were going to get up, but he quickly held you, hugging you. "No, no, sorry" he pulled you close to his chest again and left little kisses on your previously affected cheek. "sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, last time I bite you" You let yourself be loved for a little while longer, letting him apologize for biting your cheek. You wanted to look tough in front of him.

"I thought you wouldn't do that anymore... to bite me like that" you remembered how in his first time he did something similar. Because yes, you were both brothers' first time just like they were yours. "This time I didn't hit you in the face only because I'm on my back."

"Sorry" Smiley stifled the laughter that was struggling with coming out. He remembered when he had previously bitten your cheek and you left your hand stamped on his face.

"I forgive you" you smiled slyly. Smiley ceased the kisses sent to your cheek and snuggled you closer to him.

"Now I'll make it up to you" you saw him out of the corner of your eye, Smiley simply smiled.

He lowered one of his hands that were hugging you to reach under your underwear. You let out a helpless moan as he moved his fingers straight down to your wetness. He slipped two of them slowly into your intimacy, you moved your legs a little further apart. You let yourself fall back against him, the back of your neck resting on his shoulder. While he masturbated you with one hand, the free one he brought it up to your left breast and caressed it again, playing with it in every possible way.

"Wait..." He said. You looked up at Smiley. His hand grabbed the edge of your underwear and tried to pull it all the way off, you lifted your hips and then pulled your legs together enough for him to remove them from your body. "Now you do."

He hugged you to his body again, rubbed his palm against your crotch slowly, almost tempting you to ask him to increase the speed. You slapped your ass to his erection and Nahoya moaned in your ear. "How naughty" she crooned in your ear. He grabbed your hips and repeated the motion, he bent you back and forth as, he settled further to the back of the bed. Each time your arousal was more and more evident. "You're making me wet, ________, what a bad...". You gave a couple of moans as you felt him prick at your center, only the fabric of his underwear getting in the way of full contact. Your knees pressed into the mattress and you continued to move over his pelvis, your hands seeking support on Smiley's knees.

"Now..." he moved to the nightstand off to the side and hugged your hips with his arm. "Stand up a little, honey" You stopped sitting on him and Smiley got rid of his underwear, you helped him remove it completely.

"Ready?" you watched backwards as he put on the protection. When he finished he hugged you again and you glued your lower back to his abdomen. Nahoya helped you down onto his member, slow and leisurely, wanting to lengthen the overwhelming sensations that invaded his body little by little. He let out a few quick sighs when he felt you completely, you kept quiet biting your lip. You began to move up and down his length, up and down adapting a rhythm comfortable for you, but for Smiley somewhat slow. Your boyfriend held your hips to move and you held on to his beefy arms. Now you were both a bundle of pleasure, both of you quietly letting out pleasurable sounds caused by each thrust.

Harder and harder. Nahoya supported each thrust by raising her hips, seeking your every sensitive spot to strike. It was rapturous.

From such pleasure flooding you both and the room itself with his moans, your boyfriend climaxed and dropped his forehead to your back, leaning there as he regained his composure. At that instant Angry stepped out of the shower. He stared at them for a few seconds, not that he was surprised either. Smiley kept one of his arms hugging your breasts and his free hand held your hip, still his breathing felt ragged.

"But Nahoya, _________ does not look so tired” Souya stated the towel wrapped around your hips and walked over to you. "Bad job, brother."

You brushed your hair out of your face, cleared your vision and looked at him before you began to laugh softly. Smiley remained silent.

"Well..." Souya walked around the bed and sat down on the other side of where they were, likewise leaning against the backrest. You saw him turn your head, your attention to his person increased as he undid the towel knot. "I can help you, love."

"Yes?" you asked him barely in a whisper. Souya gave a couple of small pats to his thighs, inviting you to go to him. Specifically to his erect crotch.

"Okay, I'm not mad" You gave a startled yelp as Smiley held your waist and lifted you up to lay you across his brother's lap. "My turn to shower" Before he got up he left an affectionate kiss on your cheek. He would take the opportunity to discard the protection and take a warm shower while Angry also attended to his girlfriend.

Good thing they are not jealous

Bonus point

"Are you okay?" whispered Angry giving you a tight hug and kissing under your ear. You nodded your head and turned your face to look at his face. "I'm going to lay you down, okay?" you let your boyfriend lay you down on the bed. He pulled a blanket over you both and climbed up until he was on top of your naked body, to start kissing your neck.

All so soft and loving.

He searched for your mouth, kissed you just like he knows how. Moving his lips with yours, brushing his tongue with yours in subtle and concise light touches. You nuzzled his neck and held him close to you. Angry brushed his fingers over your intimacy as he kissed you. You felt him touch your clit each time increasing the rhythm, your moans became frequent and you couldn't reciprocate each kiss he gave you.

"Is this okay?" he asked you somewhat unsure. You shook your head, nodding. He kept touching you for a minute until his erection begged for attention, he was getting more and more aroused. He reached for a condom in the cabinet next to the bed. Before penetrating he caressed your folds with his member, playing, looking for you to feel him from before. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let out more moans as he slowly rammed in. Souya as he rammed, began kissing your skin, starting with your jaw and neck. He lowered his face to your breasts and kissed them. His tongue played with them as he wished. You held her hair in your hands as you let yourself be completely carried away. His hips moved seeking contact with your intimacy. His mouth sucked your skin, kissed and bit, it was obvious that at the level of your chest he left a mark or two.

You said his name a couple of times before you reached your limit, you hugged his waist when you felt yourself coming. Angry didn't slow down his movements and even increased them. He moaned when you buried your nails in his back, brought his face up to yours and kept ramming faster. You were very close and he wanted you to enjoy it fully. He lengthened the climax he lashed into your body seconds later. To silence your loud gasps you hid your face in his neck, Angry let himself fall a little more towards you so you could hug him. A few more lunges and he too had his orgasm.

He dropped down next to you, rested his cheek on your shoulder as you stroked his hair. You took the trouble to stay there for a few seconds.

"I must go bathe again." announced Souya caressing your abdomen with his hand. Light caresses. "If you want I can join you" you blurted out, still agitated. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. As you were staring at the ceiling you couldn't see how Angry blushed a little at your proposal.

#souta x reader #kawatasmut #souya kawata #nahoya kawata #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #smut anime #nahoya x reader #nahoya x you #nahoya smut

175 notes · View notes

baepsaesbae · 4 years ago

Text

Ethereal Encounters

Pairing— Angel!Seokjin x Demon!reader

Genre— Smut +18, comedy, light pining, supernatural au, angel au, demon au, time traveling (this was inspired by Good Omens by Neil Gaiman)

Warnings— oral (m and f receiving), explicit unprotected sex, death (but not really important), somewhat religious talk bc well they’re an angel and demon??

Word Count— ~6.3k

Summary— Since the early beginnings of mankind, you have been tasked with overseeing them and ensuring chaos befalls them. However, you meet an angel who has been tasked with the same duties, only obviously he’s supposed to ensure their wellbeing. How will you deal with him?

A/N— Happy Halloween everyone! This fic is part of @bangtanshadowfamily’s project Moonlight Manor. I had a blast writing this, please let me know what you guys think! Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for making such an angelic banner.

The story of Cain and Abel in the biblical Book of Genesis is well known by many throughout countless generations. The basic rundown is that Cain became jealous of Abel and murdered him. Tragic. However, what isn’t well known is that divine powers were involved. This was where it all started between you and him.

“How dare he. You’re the oldest son. You should have God’s favor,” you whispered into Cain’s ear.

As a high order demon, you were tasked with creating calamities for the stupid creatures that God loved oh so very much. What better way to ensure mankind would be doomed than introducing murder. Even better, the murder of ones own brother. Yes, your plan was ingenious.

“You need to gut him. Gut him like you would the animals you eat. God would have no choice but to cherish you instead,” you continued.

You started to feel the hatred swell within Cain. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his hunting knife. He marched out to the field where his brother was and struck him down. You watched all this transpire with a grin of satisfaction painted across your face.

“Oh no. It appears I’m too late,” you heard a disappointed voice behind you.

Whipping around quickly, you turn to see a defeated looking angel. He was quite handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and lips that formed the perfect pout. You despised him the moment you laid eyes on him. Of course, he’s in a corporeal vessel. His true form would be too much for any mortal to see, and they would combust on the spot. Your corporeal vessel was that of a woman. You figured it would make swindling humans easier later on.

“Who the hell are you?” you snarled.

“Me? Oh, I’m the angel Seokjin. I was sent by the higher ups to oversee the progression of mankind. I was told to make sure they weren’t led astray,” the angel rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Interesting. I was sent by my higher ups to make sure that mankind would be led astray,” you muse, “It seems that we have quite the conflict of interests.”

“It would appear so,” the angel had his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well Jin--”

“That’s not my name. It’s Seokjin--”

“I don’t care. That’s too long.”

“Too long? It’s two syllables!”

“Who has that kind of time, Jin? Not me. Anywho, my work here is done. Since this place is under both of our jurisdictions, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” you gave the angel a wink before vanishing from the scene.

That was your first of many encounters with the angel Seokjin.

200 CE

The crowd roared with fervor as the gladiators fought to the death. You were one of the happy spectators watching a man get pummeled to death with the butt of a sword. As the man’s skull was caving in, you heard someone sigh beside you.

“There’s no need to be that cruel. He should cut off the poor fellow’s head and just end it already,” you heard a man say.

“That wouldn’t please this crowd at all. They’re all here because they want to see a spectacle. Chopping someone’s head off at the beginning of the fight would be sooo boring,” you turn to the disgruntled man, “I mean, you gotta pay to watch so--oh my god it’s you.”

The angel beside you was just as radiant as on the first day you met him. Even dressed in Roman apparel, you could tell there was something otherworldly about him. The angel returned the same shock as his eyes grew wide when they landed on you.

“You! You’re the one who started the downfall of man!” he accused.

“Well actually it was the snake that tempted Eve. I wish I could take credit for that. What have you been up to? Jin right?” you greet him as if he were an old friend, slinging your arm around him.

“Wrong. My name is Seokjin. I’ve been overseeing mankind. As I was instructed to,” Seokjin answered while trying to wiggle out of your grasp, “But it seems like no matter what I do, humans always resort to violence. You must be very good at your job.”

“They’re all shitbags like that. It makes my job so easy! I don’t even have to lift a finger,” you brag.

“There are some humans who have nothing but love and compassion for other living creatures--”

“Gross,” you interject.

“--so my faith in humanity is not lost. I think I’ve begun to realize why Father is so fond of them,” Seokjin rations.

“What’s your reasoning?” you inquire.

“Humans like to resort to violence quite often, like you said. But they also like to love and cherish those important to them. I think the free will that they have makes them remarkable,” Seokjin is lost in his own thoughts.

“An angel who has his own opinions? Dangerous territory buddy,” you laugh.

“Oh? Why is that dangerous?” Seokjin’s face contorted in confusion.

“Nevermind. Forget what I said. See ya around, Jin,” you’re about to disappear before Jin called out to you.

“Wait! You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That hasn’t been sitting well with me for the past couple centuries,” Seokjin shyly confessed.

“Aw, you’ve been thinking of me for centuries? What a sweetheart. I’m ___, Mother of Murder, Enslaver of Mankind, and Tamer of Dragons,” you bow.

“Tamer of Dragons? I’ve never seen one,” Seokjin tilted his head.

“Probably because they’re not real and I was messing with you. The other titles are real though. I’m kind of a bigshot downstairs. That’s why they keep me up here. See ya around, angel,” you vanish out of sight.

“___. She doesn’t really seem like the demons I’ve been told about,” Seokjin pondered.

You had a couple more run ins with the angel Seokjin, but unfortunately they were all in passing. The two of you would catch a fleeting glimpse of the other before one of you would vanish. Your time on Earth was starting to bore you. Up until you decided to wreck some havoc.

1350 CE

The black plague, also known as the Black Death, was sweeping across Europe. It had already taken millions of lives, and still had more to go. This catastrophic pandemic was beyond devastating. And you couldn’t be happier. Cart after cart rolled through towns and villages, each one filled with the bodies of the deceased or nearly deceased. The screams of those in agony was music to your ears. You skipped cheerfully along the streets. You couldn’t be more pleased with yourself. After all, the Black Death was your brainchild.

“___!” you stop in your tracks.

“Jin? Jin! How lovely to see you,” you greet him with a warm smile. You started to grow fond of him through the years. His curiosity and sincerity always amused you.

“It’s Seokjin, not Jin. I’m honestly quite worried,” Seokjin sighed.

“About? The humans?” you peer up at him.

“Yes. This plague has gotten out of hand. Sure, humans get sick and die all the time. They’re frightfully delicate. But this? Millions upon millions dead? This must be the work of some...some sort of demon!” Seokjin exclaims before calming himself, “I apologize for my outburst. This whole situation is just too worrisome.”

“You’re right. You must be a sleuth or something,” you say nonchalantly.

“What? Right about what?” Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“This IS the work of a demon. Me! This is all my doing! Pretty impressive no?” the horrified look on Seokjin’s face encouraged you to continue, “So get this. I was bored outta my mind one day, right? Then I started thinking about all the organisms on this planet. From tall to small. Then I realized that bugs are completely on the bottom of the food chain. Very unfair, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so, but God intended--”

“Sure sure whatever. I took it upon myself to give bugs a little advantage. Specifically, fleas. I experimented for a bit then settled on giving some of them the ability to infect their prey! Truth be told, I had no idea that the rats they sucked on would become feral. I just thought they’d get sick and die a horrible death or something. Who would’ve thought they’d go around biting humans? Am I the best or am I the best?” you wiggled your eyebrows at Seokjin, who was still staring at you with horror.

“You caused all of this, ___? And it was all an accident?” Seokjin was trying to process what you told him.

“Yeah basically. All because I wanted to make the playing field a little more fair for fleas,” you nodded.

“That’s funny,” Seokjin said curtly.

“Oh yeah? What amuses you so, my angel?” you ask playfully.

“You wanted to help fleas. Fleas. Some would say it was an act of compassion,” Seokjin grins.

“What? No! No, I was just bored. I thought it would be something I could occupy myself with. Don’t look too deep into it, Jin,” you turn away, in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks.

“Sure sure. Whatever you say, ___. At least you’re probably getting high praises in Hell,” he pats your head fondly.

“Shut up, angel,” you say before vanishing. You couldn’t take the embarrassment any longer. Compassion? From you? No way in Heaven. And what was that? Jin patting your head like you’re some sort of friends? Even though he was growing on you like a tumor, you hadn’t considered him a friend before. Well. Maybe you had. You just didn’t want to admit it. Life can get pretty lonely on Earth for an immortal being. At least you guys have that in common.

In an attempt to befriend Seokjin, you searched for him. Up until now, it has always been him sneaking up on you. You found him in a small village that had just about been completely wiped out by the Black Death.

“Hey angel,” you pipe up, causing him to jump.

“Ah! ___! Hello, you scared me. What can I do for you?” Seokjin smiled, his cheeks bunching up like fresh bread.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a bite to eat? We can sneak into the nearest Royal family’s kitchen and find something good?” you ask, looking at the ground.

“Eat? We don’t have to do that though,” the angel’s signature confused face took hold.

“Yes I know that. But we’re on Earth now and until the end of time. Or until we get called back. Might as well indulge in Earthly pleasures right?” you try to reason. Your pride would be hurt if he declined.

“Indulge? Isn’t that sinful?” Seokjin said apprehensively.

“I didn’t realize a loaf of bread was sinful. I’ll be right back, just gotta drag yeast into Hell,” you mock. To your surprise, Seokjin laughed. As corny as it is, his laugh sounded like a mixture of bells and a choir of angels. It was truly euphoric.

“To be quite honest, food is one of my favorite things on Earth. I’m fond of desserts in particular. Hearing you suggest eating made me reconsider if it’s a sin or not. But you’re right. A bite of food won’t hurt anyone!” Seokjin concluded gleefully.

That was the start to the tradition of eating together after every encounter.

1943 CE

Although technically mortal enemies, you both enjoyed the companionship now and again. Hearing about each other’s lives never got boring. Seokjin himself was somewhat of an enigma to you. He was childlike in the sense that he was curious about everything, and loved learning about new things. He was also simultaneously serious about everything. Any time he tried to make a joke, it was always lost on you. You soon learned to fake a laugh for him because...because you kind of liked the way his eyes lit up when he was pleased with himself. He always found you entertaining. He admired your confidence. You were the epitome of devious, but even so, Seokjin believed that there was some good in you. You in turn believed there must be some bad in him. At least enough that allowed him to continuously hangout with a demon.

You sat alone in a German cafe, gazing out the window on a gloomy day. You listened intently to the conversation behind you. Nazi soldiers were discussing the satisfying feeling that accompanied terrorizing those who didn’t belong in Hitler’s utopia. You scoffed as you bit into your streusel coffee cake.

“Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice asked.

“Jin, my darling angel friend, of course you can sit there. I wouldn’t dare let anyone else sit with me,” you smile mischievously.

“It’s Seokjin. Not Jin. Why must we go over this every time?” Seokjin sighed.

“I think the nickname puts us on friendlier terms,” you devour what’s left of your cake, “Oh sorry, did you want some of that?”

“Should an angel and a demon be on friendly terms? And no thank you. Actually, I brought you a little surprise,” Seokjin makes a small decadent box appear from thin air, “These are your favorites, if I recall correctly.”

Your eyes grew wide as you received the box, “Is this…? JIN!!! I haven’t had these in ages!” you cheer gleefully as you open the top.

A familiar sight of perfectly baked macarons laid gracefully within. All your favorite flavors were there: coffee, chocolate, lemon, and other delectable flavors. You breathe in the sweet scent of the goods before choosing your first target. You sway happily as you take the first bite.

“Gift giving is definitely something that friends do,” you say with your mouth still full, “Would you like some?” you offer the other half of the coffee macaron.

“Then I suppose we are friends, ___. I’m happy I ran into you. There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jin takes the other half of the macaron, “World War I was atrocious enough. But now all of this World War II business is even more despicable. I was wondering if you had an idea about when this will end. It has been breaking my heart to see all of this horror unfold.”

“So the macarons were a peace offering for information?” your eyes narrowed, chocolate macaron in hand.

“I was in the little French village that made your favorites and thought it would be nice to bring you some. Talking about World War II was actually an afterthought,” Seokjin said. That made you chuckle. Jin was being honest; he’s incapable of lying. If he ever tried, it would never work on you because he was god awful at it.

“I’ll believe you for now, angel. To be honest, the humans did this themselves. I was sightseeing in Mongolia when Germany invaded Poland. I knew that Hitler guy was no good-- I specialize in that-- but he’s damn near as evil as a certified demon. I can’t take credit for any of this. I like creating chaos. It’s what I do. But I find this highly organized genocide distasteful,” you admit.

“A demon finding genocide distasteful? Amusing. See? There must be some goodness left in you. I guess you don’t know when this will end then?” Seokjin asks.

“Not a clue. And don’t you ever say that I have goodness. That’s bullshit. I’m the baddest of the bad. Don’t forget that,” you sneer.

“There’s no need to get hostile, my friend. I should get going. I’ve been trying to help the victims in any way that I can. Needless to say, it has been very busy for the past few years. This was a nice little break. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Seokjin smiles and bows respectfully before disappearing out of sight.

“The pleasure is all mine, my darling angel,” you say quietly to the empty space before you.

Present Day

“That girl over there looks rather ravishing, doesn’t she? It’s a shame that she’s here instead of your girlfriend. Unless…,” you pour thoughts of infidelity in a random guy’s mind.

You sensed that he was nervous the entire night, and after observing him for a bit, you finally realized why. This man was out clubbing with his friends in celebration of someone’s birthday. His girlfriend isn’t one for going out (or having any sort of fun, from what you can gather in his mind) and he’s been eyeing this one gal the entire night. He was on the fence about whether or not to make a move. Luckily for him, you were in the vicinity that night. The alcohol pumping through his veins made him even more susceptible to your persuasions. You only spoke those few words to him before he made his way over to the girl, who immediately proceeded to grind on him.

“Infidelity huh?” a familiar voice said.

“It’s the easiest sin for men to commit. Women are too tempting for those who can’t control their lust. And by that, I mean probably 99% of all male humans,” you shrug, “It’s my duty to lead humans astray, remember?”

“Of course, how could I forget?,” Seokjin chuckled, “It’s amusing to me that the one who caused the Black Death is now sitting in a dingy nightclub telling intoxicated men to cheat on their significant other.”

“Would you rather me tell him to murder her? Would that please you, Jin?” you raise an eyebrow threateningly.

“Oh dear heavens, no. Please don’t do that. But if you were to do that, I can always intervene and protect the poor girl. And please. It’s Seokjin, not Jin,” the angel pouted. You loved his pout, it made his supple lips look even more delectable. Wait. What are you thinking?

The two of you sat in a booth inside the dimly lit nightclub. After ordering multiple rounds of drinks, Seokjin finally felt loose enough to strike up a conversation. You had been too lost in your thoughts regarding how you felt about your angelic companion to talk.

“How have you been, ___?” Seokjin asked.

“Same as ever. Chillin out, traveling, creating mischief wherever I go. My favorite thing to do nowadays is to fuck up cell phone receptions in really popular areas. The animosity goes through the roof!” you explain.

“Sounds...exciting,” Seokjin takes another sip.

“What about you, angel cakes?” you gaze at him fondly.

“My flower shop has been coming along beautifully! I mean, I want to keep all of the flowers for myself but I guess part of running a business is selling your goods. You should come by and see it. I even have some nightshade. I thought of you when I acquired it,” Seokjin smiled.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush. I’ll come and visit your shop soon,” you finish your drink, “It kinda sucks though,”

“The drink? We can order another--”

“Not that. I’m living the best life I could possibly ask for. The world is literally my playground. But I’m kinda bored. I’ve plunged from the Mother of Murder to inciting infidelity just for the drama. I feel like I’m burnt out,” you pout, sinking into the booth.

“Maybe finding a hobby could help? I like plants, so now I collect and sometimes sell them. What do you like? Come to think of it, I don’t think I really know much about you at all,” Seokjin realizes.

“I’m hurt. We’ve been friends for what? About 6000 years?” you dramatically grasped your chest.

“Friends? You consider me a friend?”

“Are we not?” you retorted.

“I suppose we are. What an unlikely friendship. And one that our bosses will never know about,” Seokjin grins, “Can I ask you something? As a friend?”

“Sure thing. Jin, my best friend in the whole wide world, what do you want?” you bat your eyes at him.

“How did you fall from Grace?”

Hearing the question sobered you up immediately. You never thought Jin would care about you enough to ask such a personal inquiry. It’s akin to asking someone ‘hey, what’s the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you?’ out of the blue. You were staring at your empty cup when Jin spoke up.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I’ve just been so curious--”

“It’s fine. I was just shocked that you wanted to know me on a more personal level,” you laugh nervously.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends,” Seokjin said seriously.

You take a deep breath before answering, “I was curious. Just like you. I didn’t understand why God was so obsessed with the stupid little humans. They were so vile, so vulgar. Even if they knew right from wrong, they sometimes willingly chose what was wrong. I was confounded. Apparently asking questions is the same as undermining His authority. They thought I was going to grow my own free will. An angel who can think for themselves is a threat. And so, down I went. It was a pretty long fall actually. The landing was pretty unpleasant,” you try to lighten up the story.

“I’m sorry, ___,” Jin took a hold of your hands, “At least you still have the wings of an angel.”

“Yeah but they’re all black and tattered now. Yours are still beautiful and pristine.”

“I think your wings are beautiful too,” Seokjin said softly. You realized he was still holding your hands. You slowly retreat from his grasp. You don’t know how to handle the praise coming from the angel.

“Thanks, my darling angel. Anyway. This place is getting kinda boring. You wanna get dessert?” you suggest.

“You know me so well!” Seokjin agreed.

You found yourselves in a nearby gelato shop. You treat yourself to a coffee gelato, while Jin got chocolate gelato. The pair of you opt to sit outside and soak in the city life.

“I thought you didn’t like chocolate? I remember you turning your nose up to the best chocolate I’ve had in my life when we were in Switzerland,” you noticed his chocolate gelato.

“I like the chocolate flavor, but I don’t like chocolate,” Jin said casually, “I love strawberries, but I don’t like strawberry flavored things.”

“You’re so strange,” you let out a laugh. Jin laughed with you, his stoic image started to fade away. Afterward, you both sat comfortably in silence. Being in each other’s company was satisfying. It helped ease the loneliness that you refused to admit you had. Pondering your loneliness alongside your friend had your thoughts drifting to an interesting concept.

“Do you remember that time we decided to indulge in Earthly pleasures for the first time all those years ago? That decision was probably the best I’ve ever made. I love food,” you break the silence.

“I do remember that. I think I’m obliged to say that doing the Lord’s work was the best decision I’ve ever made. But I guess I didn’t really have a choice,” his voice trailed off, “Besides that, eating food with you was probably my best decision too,” Jin smiled, revealing his bread cheeks.

“What if we indulge in a different Earthly pleasure tonight?” you suggest calmly, licking at your gelato.

“Other than food? What do you mean?” Seokjin’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“Haven’t you wondered why lust is such a strong motivating factor for humans?”

“I believe they reproduce for the survival of their species--”

“That’s not what I mean, you silly little angel. I’ve heard from several succubi that they really enjoy sex and--”

“Lust is a sin, ___. It’s literally one of the seven deadly sins,” Seokjin interrupted sternly.

“I said that humans are driven by lust. If we hypothetically partake in this, it would be for research reasons only. Wouldn’t you be of better service to mankind if you could understand them better?” you reason.

Frankly, you don’t give a damn about mankind. Never have and never will. The thought of getting intimate with the angel Seokjin has sparked an excitement in you that you hadn’t felt in ages. Persuasion is your forte, and you’re sure as hell gonna do your best to win him over. Seokjin was silent as he pondered over your proposal. His face was unreadable.

“I’ll admit I have been curious about it. I don’t understand why humans crave it so much,” Seokjin admitted. A smile slowly formed on your face.

“Does that mean you’ll indulge with me? Just as you did when we ate together all those moons ago?” you take his hands in yours.

“Fine, ___. I’ll indulge with you. But purely for research purposes,” Seokjin said firmly.

This city had been your dwelling place for the past couple of years so you had your own place. You giddily led the angel to your apartment. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. Seduction wasn’t part of your job, so you never partook in such activities. It was mischief alone that was your specialty.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you instructed Jin to wait outside for a couple of minutes while you tidied up the place. With a snap of your fingers, your humble abode was free of any trash and not a speck of dust was to be found. After wondering about what would help set “the mood”, you decided on lighting candles. You figured the dim lighting would help create a sensual atmosphere. The final touch was slipping into promiscuous black lingerie. You had a complete set: stockings, garter, corset, and a bra. You twirled in front of a mirror and was satisfied with the look. You felt like the epitome of a seductress. You made your way to the front door and swung it open, striking a seductive pose. You nearly burst out into a fit of laughter when you saw Jin’s eyes wide with shock and mouth agape.

“You...you look...nice,” Jin stuttered.

“Come on in, my darling angel,” you waved a single finger at him.

Seokjin timidly stepped inside. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom; the walkway was lined with candles. You closed the bedroom door behind Jin as you heard him gulp nervously.

“You scared, Jin?” you teased. Jin couldn’t make eye contact with you. You could barely see his faint blush in the dim lighting.

“No. Maybe a bit nervous. I thought we would just get down to it,” Jin let out an annoyed sigh before finally making eye contact, “And it’s Seokjin. Not Jin.”

“Go straight to fucking? Without foreplay? Aw you really are such a little angel, aren’t you? You sweet sweet vanilla baby boy,” with each word you crept closer to him, eventually wrapping your arms around his neck. He smelled like a mixture of warm honey and wildflowers. His scent was intoxicating. You couldn’t resist any longer as you planted a gentle kiss on his neck, causing him to groan lightly.

“Oh? You like that?” you whispered sweetly.

“I never realized our corporeal bodies were so sensitive,” Jin replied quietly.

“You’re still so tense, angel,” you observed as you massaged his broad shoulders, “I can help you unwind. Part of the fun of sex is indulging in the pleasure, so I’ve heard,” you say as you guide Jin to the bed.

“Let’s make some things clear,” you say as you straddle Jin, “Firstly, you can touch me. I don’t wanna be doing all the work. Secondly, don’t be afraid to act on any urges. I can assure you I can handle whatever you wanna do. Lastly, do you trust me?” you ask. Jin blinked blankly.

“Generally, I’m pretty sure a demon is never to be trusted. But since it’s you, I guess I’ll make an exception. I trust you, ___,” Jin said sincerely.

“I’m touched,” you smile, “Now take off your shirt and pants,” you demand, climbing off of him. Jin complied. Left in only his underwear, he sat on the bed awaiting your next instructions. You soaked in the sight of him. He was fit; his physique had your mouth watering.

“Perfect,” you say, seductively crawling back on top of him.

You lock eyes as you straddle his hips. You lean in slowly, eyes wandering to his plush lips. Jin does the same, leaning towards you ever so slightly. Your lips met gently. After relishing the tender moment, you kiss him more intensely. To your surprise, Jin met you with the same intensity. His hands started to wander as well. Starting with a firm grip on your ass, his hands traveled slowly up to your breasts.

“I don’t think I can fully appreciate you with all this on,” Jin breathed heavily after he broke from the kiss.

“What a cheeky angel. Be patient, love,” you notice a change in Jin’s eyes. There was an intense gaze of lust pouring from his dark brown eyes. It turned you on.

You laid him down and whispered, “Now the fun can begin.”

A blindfold manifested out of thin air and into your hand. Jin looked at the object curiously. He didn’t protest when you wrapped it over his eyes. You smiled at the fact that he truly did trust you.

You kissed him again. You couldn’t get enough of his velvety soft lips. You dared to slip your tongue in his mouth delicately. Seokjin pulled you closer to him as he reciprocated with more aggression. His boldness caused you to let out a small moan.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Seokjin stopped immediately after he heard you. His genuine concern caused you to chuckle.

“I don’t think you’re capable of hurting me, sweet boy. Keep doing what you’re doing,” you say before going back for another kiss.

You reluctantly pull away from Jin’s sweet lips, gently placing wet kisses down his neck and along his chest. You kitten lick one of his nipples as you pinch and twist the other. Jin seemed to enjoy this as his breathing became uneven and he let out tiny moans.

You travel further down to position yourself between his thighs. His erection was obstructed by his underwear. You tug it off, allowing it to free itself. The length was impressive, and his girth was just as satisfying.

You slowly started pumping your hand along his shaft. As soon as you held him, Jin shuddered. You were amused by how sensitive he was. You gave his tip a few kitten licks as you hand was still slowly dragging along his cock. This caused Jin to shift underneath you, and his soft moans were getting louder. You stopped teasing him as you took his entire length in your mouth. Being a divine being gave you small perks such as not having a gag reflex. You sloppily bobbed your head up and down his cock, listening to his sweet groans of pleasure. Hands soon grip your hair, and now Jin was guiding your rhythm.

“Ahh ___... I think I’m gonna...my body feels weird,” Jin muttered between groans.

Without warning, Jin released his load into your mouth. You were surprised by the sudden outburst and pulled away too late. What didn’t land in your mouth splattered all over your chest.

“Huh. So angels can ejaculate. Wild,” you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “You don’t taste half bad, angel. But you did get my lingerie messy,” you tsked.

“I think I’m starting to understand why humans enjoy this so much. Sorry about your clothes, I guess you have to take them off now,” Jin proposed.

“I suppose you’re right,” you chuckle. With a snap of your fingers, the lingerie magically vanishes.

“I wanna feel what you felt,” you whined.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“What else would you do?” you teased.

“You could sit on my face and I can reciprocate the oral sex,” Jin offered.

His straightforward way of talking never ceased to amaze you. It was no surprise that he would talk this way even in the bedroom. You grinned as you positioned your thighs on each side of his head.

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Sit on my face, ___,” Jin said impatiently.

You slowly lowered yourself onto Jin’s face. You carefully made sure you that the lips lined up. You rested your intimate part gently on Jin’s lips. You shuddered with delight as he licked a long gentle strip along your pussy. Jin began to explore you with his tongue.

“You’re still too far away,” he grunts as he places his hands on your hips and roughly pulls you closely to him.

His nose was buried in your pussy at this point. He darted his tongue in and out of you, causing you to gasp. He brought his hand around to play with a nub located above your opening. Somehow, he figured out that this little nub was extremely sensitive, as you nearly doubled over when he applied pressure on it. You could faintly hear a low chuckle under you as the pressure on your clit increased. Jin’s thumb ferociously played with your clit as his tongue flicked inside you. Your legs began to shake and your moans got louder and more drawn out.

“Jin! Fuck that feels amazing. Don’t stop. My body is starting to feel weird too,” you cry out.

Soon enough, a wave of euphoria coursed throughout your body as you released your juices all over his face. You fell beside him, chest heaving.

“How was that?” Jin asked, licking around his mouth, “You don’t taste too bad yourself, Mother of Murder.”

“You flatter me, angel. You didn’t correct me when I said Jin!” you observed, taking off his blindfold.

“I actually thought it was pleasant. Hearing you moan out my nickname like that spurred me on for some reason,” Jin sighed.

“Oh so you like when I moan out your name? You’re such a naughty angel,” you jokingly admonish, “We still haven’t gotten to the finale yet.”

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“Yes, my darling angel. I want you to fuck me now,” you say curtly, “How do you want to take my virginity?” you bat your eyes innocently at him, spreading your legs out.

“Like this would be fine. I think I’d enjoy seeing your face,” Jin leaned down for a passionate kiss, complete with tasteful tongue usage.

Breaking the kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance. He gazed at you tenderly before you nodded at him, signaling for him to proceed. He slowly slipped inside, and you relished every inch of him. The new sensation of the stretch was a bit painful at first, but it soon was replaced with a foreign bliss. You let out a low moan when he finally bottomed out. Eyes fixated on each other, Jin wordlessly began to thrust in and out of you. The bliss was enjoyable, but you craved more. Jin was going too slowly for your taste (even though it was an impressive pace already by human standards).

“Faster. Harder. Fuck me harder, Jin,” you pleaded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Jin complied, now thrusting with more force at a faster rate. Jin was having a hard time controlling himself, as his grunts started to mix with your moans. You clawed at his back, leaving red streaks across it. Jin suddenly hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper. You let out a high pitched squeal at the sudden switch up. You began to feel a familiar tingle in your lower region.

“Jin, I’m close,” you panted.

“Me too, my darling demon. Let’s finish together, shall we?” Jin replied, sweat dripping from his brow.

It only took a couple more thrusts before you both reached your limits. You felt Jin’s hot cum fill you up as he let out a final groan. You could barely hear him over your own lewd cry as your orgasm hit you hard. As your juices mixed, Jin collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him and held him tenderly against your chest. You laid together in silence for a while with synchronized breathing before Jin broke the silence.

“Do you think I’ll fall from Grace now? I indulged in the sin of lust. I don’t think the guys upstairs will understand that it was for research purposes,” Jin sounded worried.

“Do you regret it?” you asked quietly.

“Oddly enough, no. It was fun. I’m just worried because I’ve been an angel since the beginning of time. I don’t know how I’ll be anything else,” Jin admitted.

“Have your superiors ever checked up on you since they plopped you onto Earth?”

“Only once, close to the beginning. I never realized that they never check up on me. Does this mean they won’t find out?” Jin’s voice started to pick up.

“I won’t tell your superiors if you don’t tell mine! Although, I don’t think mine would care that much,” you laugh, hugging Jin closer to you.

“Deal. Wow, I really just made a deal with a devil huh?” Jin laughed at his own joke. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kiss him on the forehead.

“You know...we don’t have to part ways just yet. Stay the night. Let’s snuggle together and pretend we’re humans in love,” you whisper to him.

“Sure, I’ll stay the night. You don’t have to be human to know what love is, you know?” Jin crept up to kiss you gently.

“Shut up, angel. No more mushy talk. Just cuddle me and so I can fall asleep faster,” you snapped.

You switch positions so that you could nuzzle yourself into Jin’s chest. You both fell asleep in each other’s embrace, in each other’s arms and wings. You’ve never felt more at peace than this moment, in which you and Jin were entangled in each other’s wings. Neither of you noticed it, but your wings got a little lighter that night. Neither of your noticed, but Jin’s wings got a little darker that night.

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #creaturesofmm #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #good omens #angel bts #demon bts #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts angst #bts comedy #kim seokjin x reader

243 notes · View notes

goth-surana · 3 years ago

Text

The People Will Talk

Title: The People Will Talk

Pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main Tags: Secret relationship, banter

Summary: All of the main companions react to Hawke's new relationship, some before Hawke has even announced it. By the way, why hasn't he?

I participated in the 2021 Handers Gift Exchange run by @handers-time, here is my gift for @samsnak who wanted the companions commenting on Anders and Hawke’s relationship. I hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3 or read under the cut

---- Part 1----

Merrill was more observant than people gave her credit for. Sure, she missed a lot of innuendos but that was just because they were different from the Dalish! She could tell a dirty Dalish joke with the best of them, but none of the others would get it.

Anyway, that was beside the point. The point was that Merrill seemed to be the only one of their companions who noticed that Hawke and Anders were a couple now. A very cute couple too, if you asked Merrill.

Anders was so much happier now, he looked less like a man holding up the weight of the world. He smiled more often, and his jokes didn’t have the same undercurrent of sadness.

Hawke was a tactile person, but he just could not keep his hands off of Anders. Not in a dirty way! Or, well, probably some times in a dirty way…

He took every opportunity to brush up against Anders, to put a hand on his shoulder, to give him a friendly hug. It was a wonder Hawke was fooling people at all with how obvious he was being.

That brought Merrill to the confusing part - they were keeping it a secret. Why? Why keep something so joyous a secret?

The group was off to Sundermount for some mercenary job Hawke took. Even with his mansion he still needed to pay for things, and he also couldn’t help but say yes whenever Kirkwall inevitably needed his aid.

Right now the group was clearing out a cave of spiders. Hawke had brought Anders, Merrill, and Fenris. A bit of a contentious group, but they were making it work. Hawke’s witty remarks had a way of defusing most situations.

“Even the spider guts on my clothes are covered in spider guts,” Hawke complained. “This cave had better have something of value in it…”

Soon enough they did find some locked chests, which Hawke went right to attempting to open. He fiddled with the lock a bit, but it wasn’t working.

“You know,” Anders offered, “I could just set fire to the thing and burn some of the wood away. Valuable treasure usually won’t burn.”

“Could be useful documents,” Hawke replied, his lock picking tools moving quickly.

“From what, a hundred years ago?” Anders asked. Hawke didn’t reply. He kept trying to open the chest and kept failing.

“One tiny tiny fire spell…” Anders reminded him, leaning against the cave wall and grinning. Even as Hawke grunted in frustration Anders looked at him fondly. Hawke wasn’t the only one who was obvious.

“Okay,” Hawke announced, “trying a new strategy.”

“Secret rogue technique?” Fenris asked him, a little sarcastically.

“Of course,” replied Hawke. Then, he picked up the chest and threw it across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed, not a dent on the thing.

Anders burst out laughing, which is something he never would have done before. Hawke looked over at him, and all frustration melted away. He wore a small satisfied grin, watching Anders laugh with open fascination. Oh creators, they were cute.

Eventually the group agreed to take the chest back to Varric and Isabela and see if either of them had better luck. The group decided to camp out that night in the cave since the sun was setting, and Merrill noticed how close to Anders Hawke put his bedroll. They could just be sleeping together if they weren’t trying to hide. It was quite silly, watching Anders look with open longing at the space between them.

At some point Hawke went out of the cave to gather some elfroot, and Merrill decided now was a good time to ask him why on earth he was hiding his relationship.

“Hawke…” Merrill said, walking beside him.

Hawke jumped, clearly not noticing her presence until just then.

“Maker!” He exclaimed. “You should wear shoes… why are you out here?”

Merrill grinned. “I just wanted to congratulate you! You and Anders,” she whispered.

Hawke was completely caught off guard, raising his eyebrows. “Me-me and Anders? What about us?”

“You’re together now!” Merrill continued. “Come on Hawke, don’t lie!”

Hawke let out a sigh, but then smiled. “Alright, alright. Yeah, we’re together now.”

Merrill let out a small squeal, clapping her hands. “Why ever are you keeping it a secret though?”

Hawke’s smile slipped from his face. “Anders. He’s nervous… about him getting me in trouble somehow. Lots of eyes on me, being the new blood in Hightown. I also don’t…. oh, never mind.”

It wasn’t like Hawke to sound that uncertain about something. Hawke always knew what he was doing, or at least looked and acted like it.

Right now he looked like he was holding onto something and desperately wished to unload that burden.

“Hawke,” Merrill chided gently, “you can tell me, whatever it is.”

Hawke considered her offer for a moment, an uncharacteristic look of vulnerability in his eyes that so often sparkled with mischief.

“I don’t know if he even knows how to be in a proper relationship,” Hawke said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Relationships are discouraged in the Circle,” Hawke explained. “So everyone had to be secret, and no couple were really an item exactly. It was all fleeting. This isn’t fleeting, but I don’t know how to tell Anders that.”

Well, the answer seemed obvious to Merrill. “Tell him just like you told me! You just said it.”

Hawke chuckled, slightly subdued. “I know, I know. Look, I may have a particular talent for running my mouth but I’d rather not be that careless with Anders. He deserves security.”

Merrill smiled. That was sweet, she thought. How ridiculous that Hawke was worried about this when he was clearly everything Anders needed.

“Well,” Merrill told Hawke, “however you have been handling Anders so far is-“

Hawke let out a snort of laughter.

“Stop it!” Grinned Merrill, realizing what she had said. “I’m trying to tell you something. I’m saying no matter what you’re afraid of, you’re good to him. I can see it, he’s so much happier now!”

Hawke’s expression was open, hopeful. “You think so?”

“I do think so, very much.”

—— Part 2 ——

Fenris and Hawke were drinking together at Fenris’s dilapidated mansion, trying to unwind from a stressful battle. Hawke had wanted company and a stiff drink but not the noise of the Hanged Man, so Fenris had offered his mansion as a suggestion.

Hawke was able to unwind quickly, going right back to his boisterous self. The man was somewhat infuriating and overly-witty, but he was Fenris’s friend. One of his closest friends.

It was getting late, and Fenris was just about to suggest they turn in for the night when Hawke says something that nearly makes him spit out his drink.

“I should really get going, don’t want to keep Anders up waiting.”

Hawke realized a second after he spoke what he had said, and just looked at Fenris for a moment. Fenris looked back.

“Fucking finally!” Fenris exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “Fasta vass, you two were insufferable.”

Hawke just blinked at him a few times. “Insufferable? Really, I know you don’t like Anders but-“

“Both of you,” Fenris clarified. “You, Hawke, were insufferable around the man.”

Fenris did not like the mage, he was not happy for the mage per se, but… he could be happy for his friend. And happy he could finally tell his friend what a lovesick fool he always looked.

“You two make doe eyes at each other from across the room, find any and all excuses to make physical contact, you stare at him when he’s not looking and he stares at you when you’re not looking - it was madness!”

Hawke still looked somewhat stunned, but seemed to be taking Fenris’s comments in stride. Maybe a little embarrassed. “I didn’t look that often,” he said.

Fenris actually laughed. “Oh please, you are the worse of the two!”

“Am not,” Hawke responded a bit drunkenly. He was slightly flushed, either from the alcohol or from embarrassment.

“What I am confused about is why,” Fenris continued, the wine making him bolder than usual, “are you not flaunting your sickening love to the whole of Thedas?”

“I don’t know!” Hawke said a little too loudly, waving a hand. “It’s...Andersdoesntwanna…”

“What?” Fenris asked. It was unlike Hawke to mumble. He said what he thought and made damn sure everybody heard.

“Anders wants to keep us a secret,” Hawke said, slumping his shoulders. He looked like a disappointed Mabari. How very Fereldan of him.

“And,” Fenris said, not quite believing he was actually trying to help Hawke figure out his relationship problems with the abomination, “you do not want to be secret?”

“Yeah,” Hawke frowned, leaning his chin on one hand. “Fenris, I wanna treat him right,” Hawke whined. “I wanna take him places and buy him flowers and-“

Fenris tuned Hawke out after that, waiting for him to finish his list of things.

“I had no idea you were such a romantic.” Truly, this was a side of Hawke he had not seen yet. Hawke was irreverent, not one for traditions like flowers.

“Well,” said Hawke, “mages don’t get to be romantic in the Circle. So I want to give him that. And I don’t know, I just… he deserves romantic gestures and all that.”

That was disgustingly sweet.

“But I can’t do any of that if we have to sneak around,” Hawke continued to complain. “And I don’t know why he’s so intent on keeping us a secret! It’s not the Circle anymore, no one will punish us for loving each other.”

“”Love” is it?” Fenris asked with an amused smirk. Hawke really did open up when he was drunk.

Hawke looked slightly mortified, but tried to collect himself. “So?” He asked defensively, “people fall in love quickly all the time. And it’s not like I just met him-“

“Certainly not, I have been there throughout the literal years of pining.”

Fenris thought he might have some idea of what the mage’s motivations were, but it was a little too close to empathizing with him… oh, fuck it he was trying to help his friend. He could imagine himself in the mage’s shoes for once.

“Hawke,” Fenris said gently, “have you considered…” ah, how to phrase this? Even going down this line of thought was a little too close to home for Fenris. He didn’t want to think of the past, did not want to admit to Hawke how it still clung to him.

“Have you considered that in some ways the man has not left the Circle?”

“Whadaya mean?” Hawke asked, squinting. Hawke had better not be too drunk to remember Fenris pouring his heart out to him.

“I… in Tevinter… at Danarius’s estate… the slaves were not permitted to form romantic attachments. Those who were found were punished or sold.”

Fuck, it felt like there was a rock in his throat. The damn things he did for Hawke… Hawke had better be grateful that Fenris was such a good fucking friend.

“I, even now…” okay, just breath. Just breath. “Find it frightening that I even have friends.”

There, he said it. Bandage ripped off, wound disinfected. It hurt, but it was over.

Except that Hawke still looked confused. Fucker.

“Just because the mage is out of the Circle does not mean his mind will operate so. Habits are hard to break. You said yourself that he has never known stability. He will resist it.”

Hawke frowned sadly. “That’s… wow. I’d never thought of it like that.”

He suddenly looked much more sober.

“Thank you, Fenris. And I’m sorry that you still struggle.”

Now the conversation was turned back on Fenris, and Fenris did not like that one bit.

Fenris took another drink.

—— Part 3 ——

Isabela gleefully stabbed her attacker in the throat, spinning around and slashing at another. There were a lot of Tal-Vashoth on the Wounded Coast, after the same bounty as them. Isabela tried to have fun during fights, it was better than fear.

Unfortunately her strategy began to fail as the battle went on. They were outnumbered, and even with magic aiding them it was a struggle. Finally, Isabela killed what she thought was the last enemy. She almost sank to her knees in relief, but that relief was short lived and cut off abruptly as she heard Anders scream out for Hawke.

Isabela whipped around to see Hawke on the ground with blood spilling from his chest. Anders was kneeling over him, putting pressure on the wound and casting. Fenris stood to the side, having just killed the man who injured Hawke.

Even though Isabela wasn’t a mage, she could tell something was wrong. The spell came in fits and bursts, unstable. Anders was breathing heavily, sweat beading on his brow. His mana must be running out.

Isabela wished they had been fighting someone who might carry a lyrium potion, because Anders was clearly out.

Isabela watched on helplessly as Anders’ mana made one final surge before the man collapsed across Hawke’s chest. Isabela ran to them, pulling Anders up and looking Hawke over.

The wound was closed. He was still covered in scrapes and bleeding from a few smaller cuts, but the main danger was over. Hawke opened his eyes, blinked up at the sky.

“Anders?” He asked, seeing the man leaning on Isabela’s shoulder.

Anders shot up at his name, and then something unexpected happened. Or rather, very expected but startling nonetheless.

Anders grabbed Hawke by the lapels, pulled him up and kissed him hard.

Isabela just stared for a moment, but then began to clap. That was certainly a good ending to a fight. It was just like them to need a life or death situation to finally - wait.

Wait. Hawke didn’t look surprised, just stared up at Anders lovingly. Wait a minute.

“How bloody long have you two been together and I didn’t know it?” Isabela asked in exasperation and amusement.

Both men turned to her. Anders averted his eyes, Hawke just laughed.

“About a month,” Hawke said, still sounding somewhat out of it. He still managed to sound casual though.

Anders covered his face with one hand and groaned.

“Now everyone will find out,” he sighed. “You certainly won’t keep your mouth shut…”

“I can keep a secret,” Isabela replied haughtily. She was still grinning, caught up in the rush of a finished battle and the relief her friend was okay.

“I already knew,” Fenris shrugged. Now Isabela wanted to know how that happened.

“Fenris knew before me?” Isabela protested at the same time as Anders turned to Hawke and asked “Really? You told Fenris?”

“Didn’t mean to…” Hawke said sheepishly as he slowly sat up. “I was a little drunk.”

Anders was still grimacing, avoiding the eyes of his companions. For someone so unapologetic, he was adorably shy about this. Isabela simply had to tease him.

On the way back Fenris had to carry Hawke on his back, as Hawke was still quite injured. Anders had offered to carry him, saying he was stronger than he looked as a Grey Warden, but Hawke insisted that he had overworked himself healing. Anders relented, walking silently beside the group.

“So,” Isabela asked, “which one of you asked the other out?”

“Oh Maker,” Anders muttered, “here we go…”

“I bet it was Hawke,” Isabela continued, “you’re too mopey and sad to say something first. Although lately you’ve been better, which I’m guessing has something to do with Hawke.”

“Yes,” Anders replied, blushing and still frowning,, “Hawke makes me happy.”

“Awww,” Hawke said, grinning.

“It’s also about time you got laid,” Isabela continued with a wicked grin.

“You have no boundaries whatsoever,” Anders complained. “None at all.”

“Hawke, you’d better be good,” Isabela said. “He deserves good.”

Hawke just laughed. “I’m the best.”

“Sure, sweet thing,” replied Isabela. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t think so.”

What followed was a playful argument about Hawke’s prowess, which was only ended by Anders declaring “Alright yes he’s good! Now shut up.”

Isabela grinned. Fenris made a disgusted face.

“You must cease this conversation until you are not on my back.”

“Save it for when Anders is on his back,” Isabela agreed, nodding.

“I hate you all,” muttered Anders. “See, this is why we were secret!”

“They’ll get over it,” said Hawke, unusually giddy for a man who almost died. If Isabela had to guess he was riding the high of being public with his relationship. Hawke always had to be the center of attention.

“What are you smiling for?” Anders asked Hawke.

“What? Can’t I be glad that I can finally talk openly about my handsome, kind, talented, sexy, selfless, amazing-“

“Oh Maker please stop!” Anders pleaded, blushing hard. He was so pale he couldn’t hide it at all.

“-Striking, strong, perfect boyfriend?” Hawke finished with a pleased look.

This was great. Isabela was absolutely loving this.

“Save it for your mansion,” Fenris grumbled.

“You two finally agree on something!” Isabela smiled, nudging Anders.

“Lucky day indeed,” the man replied. Then, “Varric will be the worst.”

“Oh definitely,” Isabela nodded, “he’s going to ask all sorts of questions. Better prepare your answers.”

“What’s to prepare, we can just tell the truth,” said Hawke.

“I’m not telling him about my sex life, that’s the limit,” Anders declared.

“Then hope Hawke swears off wine,” added Fenris. “He’s chatty.”

Anders looked over at Hawke, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll not say a word,” he promised. “As long as I can keep talking about my special, sweet, beautiful-“

“Maker...,” Anders muttered again as Hawke went on another tirade of Anders’ good qualities.

Isabela spent the rest of the trip needling the pair with questions. Eventually even Anders started to smile, though he hid it well.

—— Part 4 ——

Aveline saw the absolute last person she wanted to when she responded to a claim of a bar brawl. Hawke. Of course it was Hawke.

He was slumped against the wall, face sporting a black eye and a bloody nose. The other guy didn’t look well either, leaning against one of his friends who also looked worse for wear.

“I’ll take him,” Aveline sighed to her fellow guardsmen.

Aveline led Hawke away, letting her friend put an arm around her shoulder to steady himself.

“You owe me yet another favor,” she grumbled.

“I’ll help with an investigation or something,” Hawke replied flippantly.

“Eventually you will run out of favors from me. What got into you this time?”

Hawke tensed beside her, stopped walking.

“He was a Templar, talking some shit about the mages under his “care””, Hawke sneered the last part. “Thought of them like animals, wasn’t afraid to let the whole bar know it. Bastard needed a good punch in the face.”

Aveline sighed. Hawke didn’t used to be like this.

“Hawke, that sounds like none of your business,” Aveline reminded him. “He wasn’t attacking you, you’re not even a mage.”

Hawke pulled away from her, stumbling slightly. “Bethany is, Anders is!”

“Bethany would not want you fighting Templars, she is perfectly at home in the Circle. Do not make this about Bethany, I know full well who is causing you to act like this.”

“Like what?” Hawke argued, “like someone willing to stand up for what’s right?”

“Like a troublemaker,” Aveline answered.

“Sometimes trouble needs to be made, it’s better than staying silent.”

Aveline rolled her eyes. Hawke was a ruffian at the best of times, and his new relationship was making him even worse.

“That sounds like a line straight from his manifesto,” Aveline replied.

“And that surprises you?” Hawke asked, raising his voice. “It surprises you that I support the man I love?”

“I had hoped,” Aveline told him, “that perhaps you would be a good influence on him. It appears he has influenced you.”

“You just want him silent, compliant, like all the rest!” Hawke snarled. This was worse than Aveline first thought.

“I do not hate mages,” said Aveline. “You know that.”

“But you don’t support them,” said Hawke as he leaned on a brick wall to take pressure off of his injured leg.

“I don’t support madness, needless violence.”

“You’re fine with me,” said Hawke. “Am I so different? I may live in Hightown now but I’m still a mercenary.”

Aveline contemplated this. It was true that her friendship with Hawke was somewhat...strained, but they had been through a lot together.

“You’re like family to me, Hawke,” Aveline decided on saying.

“Well Anders is my family now,” said Hawke. “And I won’t sit by while some asshole talks shit about my family. He needed a reminder to keep his shitty opinions to himself.”

“Hawke,” Aveline sighed. “Let’s just get you home. You’re still hurt.”

Aveline didn’t want to fight about this, they would never see eye to eye. This new development did worry her though. At first Hawke’s biggest flaw was that he cared too little, he breezed through life on nothing but witty one-liners. Now it seemed he took things too seriously, or at least believed that needless violence was the answer.

But as Aveline had said before, Hawke was her family. Hawke may flaunt his disregard for law and order constantly, may live by his own bizarre moral code…. but he was family. Aveline looked out for her family.

Hawke begrudgingly threw an arm around her shoulder, knowing he needed the support. The walk back to Hightown was awkward, neither of them speaking.

Aveline knocked on the mansion door, and a startled Bodahn answered. They were quickly ushered into the living room where Hawke collapsed ungracefully to the couch.

“Hawke?” Came the voice of Anders. “It’s about time you got home, I was getting w-“

Anders, looking a little sleepy and wearing Hawke’s house robe (which was enormous on him), rounded the corner.

“Maker’s breath, Hawke! What happened?” Anders rushed to Hawke’s side and sat next to him on the sofa.

“He fought a Templar,” said Aveline.

“Two Templars,” Hawke clarified. Anders looked mildly horrified.

“And why did you think that was a good idea?” He asked, placing a hand delicately on Hawke’s cheek as he began to heal the bruises on his face.

Hawke rattled off the same story he told Aveline, all the while Anders fretting over him and admonishing him for putting himself in danger. Unstable as he was, at least Anders knew how stupid what Hawke did was.

“This isn’t your fight, love,” Anders told him sadly. “When-“ he glanced over at Aveline, considering, but then continued talking to Hawke anyway.

“When we became involved I never wanted this for you! I want you to be safe, and my life isn’t safe!”

“It is too my fight,” Hawke replied. “It should have been my fight a long time ago, but it is now. I’m the son of a mage, brother to a mage, and now the lover of a mage.”

Anders bit his lip nervously, still looking upset.

“So what if I get into a few scrapes,” Hawke continued, trying for levity. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. And now I have a handsome healer to patch me up.”

Aveline pulled a face. “You can flirt when I’m gone.”

Aveline made for the door, but before she left she looked back a moment. Hawke was still trying to keep Anders from worrying, saying some nonsense or another. Anders continued to heal him, looking at Hawke with more care than anyone else did.

Maybe in a way, Anders was good for Hawke. Hawke looked after others, and until now no one was there to look after him.

Anders may be volatile, may be trouble, but… Aveline could see the devotion in his eyes. He may be dragging Hawke into trouble, but she could see he would do whatever he could to drag Hawke back out of it safe. Hawke needed someone like that.

—— Part 5 ——

Varric was waiting in Hawke’s living room, dressed far better than he ever had before. Kirkwall was throwing a party in Hawke’s honor after he was declared Champion, and Hawke had made sure all his friends got invitations. Varric had come to Hawke’s mansion to help him get ready.

“This is a bad idea,” came Anders’ voice from a room away.

“Nonsense!” Hawke replied jovially as he donned his fancy new coat. “Come on, show me how good you look!”

Anders entered the living room, wearing attire worthy of Hightown in a deep navy color. It looked striking against his pale skin and blonde hair.

Hawke whistled, and Varric could see why.

“You clean up nice, Blondie.”

“Hey, back off,” Hawke laughed.

“Told you, not into humans.”

Hawke continued to grin and Anders continued to look worried.

“I...I’m not sure I should go,” Anders said. “Everyone will be watching you, and a great many of them probably saw me use magic during the invasion.”

Hawke’s expression softened, but he still smiled. “Love, I couldn’t face those nobles without you.”

Anders didn’t look convinced. He wrung his hands nervously, not meeting Hawke’s eyes. “The Knight Commander will be there.”

“I won’t let her touch you,” Hawke said, voice suddenly hard.

Anders let out a sad laugh. “I’m not entirely sure you’re in control of that, love. But besides that you need to make a good impression on all of Kirkwall and that includes the Templars. You taking me with you as your guest is just...it’s as if you’re declaring…”

“That I love you?” Hawke asked, slightly incredulous. “I damn well hope that’s what it looks like I’m declaring, it’s what I’m trying to declare.”

Anders looked startled, his reply dying on his lips.

“You two are such a cliche,” Varric added, hoping to ease the tension but also unable to resist teasing two of his closest friends.

“If I wrote you into a story the reviews would all call it unrealistic!”

Hawke smiled, slightly abashed. Hawke was a shameless man, but when it came to Anders he was sometimes like a youth with his first love.

“Anyway,” Hawke said, his voice becoming serious once more. “I’m not hiding us. You’re part of my life, and those nobles can deal with it. I’m the fucking Champion, if that doesn’t let me dance with the man I love them what’s even the point?”

“You don’t like making things easy on yourself, do you…” Anders muttered, blushing slightly.

“I don’t care about easy, I care about you.”

Oh ancestors, they really were a cliche. It was so cute it was almost sickening.

“Writing that one down…” Varric smirked, indeed pulling out a notebook.

Anders frowned and Hawke laughed.

“I still don’t know about all this…” Anders said, voice soft and unsure.

“Anders,” said Hawke, getting to his feet and walking to him. He took the other man’s hands in his. “I want you there with me for all of Kirkwall to see. I want to be known as the lover of a mage because that’s who I am, and the world can screw itself if it doesn’t like seeing us happy. Your fight is my fight, always will be.”

Anders looked like he didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Then he spoke, only a soft “okay.”

Then promptly he decided he needed to check his hair in the mirror again and left.

“Your man’s a skittish one,” Varric told Hawke.

“Only about this,” Hawke sighed. “But one day he won’t be. I’ll make sure that one day he’s not afraid of happiness.”

“He’s probably more afraid of what could ruin that happiness,” Varric told his friend.

“If that were the only thing…” Hawke shook his head. “Well, I’ve got my work cut out for me, that’s for sure. Doesn’t matter though,” Hawke finished, smiling his usual carefree smile. “I’ll be with him ‘till the end, I’ve got time.”

Varric laughed at Hawke, fondly. “Maybe he’s just embarrassed because you say things like that. You truly have no shame.”

“The world’s got too much shame in it,” Hawke replied easily with a wave of his hand, “why add more?”

Varric decided to write that one down too.

—— Part 5 ——

“Come on Fenris,” said Isabela, leaning languidly against a pillar, her cleavage absolutely spilling out of her dress. “Admit it, they’re cute.”

She was looking out onto the dance floor where Hawke had finally coaxed Anders.

“They are repulsive,” Fenris huffed.

“They are not!” Merrill chimed in as she sipped from a champagne glass. “They’re adorable.”

Hawke’s band of misfits had somehow ended up all clumped together, enjoying the festivities but not the nobles.

“Well, I am happy for Hawke,” said Aveline. She wore her ceremonial armor, opting out of a dress.

“But I also saw the look the Knight Commander gave him. She’s not happy.”

“Lighten up,” said Isabela. “Hawke will be fine. He always is.”

“And I don’t think Hawke minds getting into more trouble,” said Merrill in a matter-of-fact tone, “certainly not if it’s for Anders. He does love showing him off.”

“Hey, it’s giving me more book material,” said Varric, “so I can’t complain.”

“I don’t know who is more shameless,” said Fenris, “you or Hawke.”

“Are you talking about my writing or Bianca?”

“Both,” Fenris said, a slight smirk on his lips.

The group watched on, somewhat captivated by how Hawke and Anders moved through the dance floor. It was a relief to all of them that the pining was now over, and they were all happy for their friends.

Anders had been right about their relationship bringing trouble, but Hawke was also right that he did not give a damn.

“Fine,” Fenris scoffed. “They are...cute.”

#handers #m!handers #anders/male hawke #anders/hawke #da fanfic

27 notes · View notes

channiebbang · 4 years ago

Text

fluttering hearts

synopsis: a cute first date along the night market and the bustling streets of Seoul. A little spark lightens up between laughs, blushing faces and fluttering stomachs.

characters: Mark, Jackson, Main Character

pairing: University Senior!Mark x Univeristy student!MainCharacter

genre: a shit load of fluff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none

author’s note: this is by far one of my most fluff works lmaoo I'm sorry if there are any mistakes hehe

Y/n shivered as the chilly breeze caressed her bare arms. It wasn't a cold evening at all, the light wind felt nice, but she had been standing for some time now, and her sleeveless dress wasn't helping. She refrained from checking the time on her watch, having done that three times already in the last minute.

She thought at how she came to be in this situation. Dressed in a somewhat semi-fancy dress, a couple of steps away from a fancy restaurant.

Mark Tuan. Her university senior of three years. He was all everyone talked about, kind of like the "It boy", if you will. And for good reasons too. He was polite, soft spoken, gentle and a ball of positivity to be around. Everyone loved him. Professors, deans, students, everyone.

Girls drooled over him, boys admired him. He received confessions left and right from girls and the occasional boys. He had it all. Or so it seemed.

See, Mark may have been showered with attention on the outside, and to some extent he was grateful for all the nice words everyone said to him, but he didn't really feel a connection with anyone other than his few close friends.

In fact, the guy was careful who he talked with and what he said. He was a very reserved person and although he was very respectful he also liked being respected. He knew most of the people that tried to befriend him didn't do it because they actually wanted to be friends. It was either because his dad was rich or it was because being Mark Tuan's friend is benefitting. Words he had actually heard someone say. Or people wanted to date him because in the three years he had been in the university nobody had seen him with anyone that could've been labeled as his girlfriend. So the ladies wanted a piece of him. They wished.

So when he, not only showed interest in Y/n but asked her out everyone was stoked. Out of nowhere a junior had been asked out by Mark. Nobody ever saw the two together, nobody ever saw the two even talk. But once someone overheard Jackson asking one of Y/n friends for her number for Mark, the news spread like wildflower. And you bet your ass Mark didn't speak to Jackson for a solid day, no matter how many times Jackson whined that he was just trying to be a good wingman. In the end he gave in because, c'mon, it's Jackson Wang we're talking about, how could he stay mad at him when he was just trying to help out.

But it's not like Mark landed a date the first time he asked, no sir. In fact, y/n had ignored his dm's when he reached out on Instagram, not wanting to get involved with someone so much on the spotlight. She didn't like attention at all, she had two friends and she was happy to go unnoticed at university.

Of course she knew who Mark was and of course she found him breathtaking, I mean it's not like she was blind and lived under a rock. She knew of his more than good reputation but even then she didn't want to be involved with him in any way. She wanted to focus on her studies, thoroughly.

Because she had two great friends, it was obvious that they didn't agree with her decision and tried to persuade her countless times when she told them that Mark had slid into her dm's. She refused.

So a couple of days had passed when the two groups crossed each other in the hallway and of course y/n's lovely friends decided to greet Mark and his friends, lying later that it was just to show their respect to their senior.

Mark on the other hand was very glad because he had taken it upon himself to greet y/n separately, flashing one of his million dollar smile. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before she bowed her head and muttered a greeting.

When she went back to her shared apartment that night she had been doing homework, well tried to do her homework, because a certain Mark Tuan refused to leave her mind. She felt guilty about not replying to him. It had already been a couple of days but she felt bad because she feared she was being rude.

So, before she changed her mind, she took her phone and replied to his text. And that was how she spent more than three weeks texting with him. She had to admit, Mark was fun to talk to. In that short period of time he somehow managed to soften her up.

He had always a funny remark ready, always ready to help her with her studies, even when she refused thoroughly, worried that it would take away time from his own studies.

So there she was, she had finally accepted his request to go eat something. So she was clad in a soft lilac dress waiting for a certain senior to show up.

It was two minutes later when a car stopped on the side of the road, Mark quickly climbed out of the back of the car after muttering some instructions to the driver and walking to y/n.

Now, y/n knew about Mark's good looks, but this. This was straight up rude. He was dressed in a turtle neck and a long coat and he was breathtakingly gorgeous. So obviously, she gaped at him and totally missed his greeting. Mark chuckled, a wide grin spread on his lips as he waved a hand in front of her eyes. She blinked rapidly clearing her throat, blushing hard when he giggled at her flustered face.

"Hi," he greeted again, "Sorry, I'm late. There was an accident on the way and I had to take another street," he apologized, a mortified smile adorning his features. Y/n smiled shaking her head.

"That's okay, I wasn't waiting for long anyway," she assured him, Mark nodded before throwing a glance at the entrance of the restaurant. A slow blush creeped up his neck and tainted his ears a bright red. Y/n tilted her head sideways, concern written all over her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her fingertips lightly brushing over his elbow as he cleared his throat, eyes falling back on her. He found himself staring at her, only then noticing how pretty she looked in her dress and styled hair. He smiled fondly at the white sneakers on her feet, contrasting the rest of her outfit.

"Yup," the tall guy smiled, eyes crinkling, y/n found herself smiling too. She nodded.

"I think I'm way past my reservation time," Mark muttered in embarrassment, fingers scratching behind his ears as he gave y/n an awkward laugh. The blushing explained. Y/n looked at him amused.

"Oh," she mumbled looking back at the entrance of the restaurant before looking back at Mark, a smile on her face.

"How about some street food?" She whispered excited, Mark stared at her, mouth hanging open. Her eyes were sparkling, the widest grin he had ever seen on her graced her lips. She oozed of excitement and adrenaline. Maybe Mark stayed in that position for too long because Y/n's expression slowly fell.

"...or maybe not?" She said unsure, her statement sounding like a question. Was Mark uncomfortable with street food? Her eyes shifted at the high class fancy restaurant and she mentally face palmed. Of course he would be, look at where he wanted to bring you and think about what you offered, ugh.

She felt mortified. She shuffled on her feet, uncomfortable and embarassed to have his eyes on her. She cleared her throat and Mark seemed to come back alive.

"Yes," he breathed out, holy fuck, what was that? He thought. He felt like time had stopped for a couple of seconds too long. Y/n looked at him confused.

"What?" She muttered, eyes wide in confusion. Mark chuckled.

"Let's get street food, I know a market not too far from here. It's a bit crouded but it comes alive at night, let's go," the boy blabbed, before taking a hold of her wrist and starting to walk down the street. Y/n was left dumbfounded, she couldn't grasp onto what just happened.

She stared at Mark, trudging behind him. His long legs taking big strides to where she had to jog a bit to keep up, she didn't complain though. His hand had her wrist in a soft grasp, tight enough not to let her slip away but loose enough not to hurt her.

His dark hair bounced at every step he took, the big smile on his face lighting up his face and his surroundings in a mesmerizing way. Or was that just in her head? She didn't mind though.

Mark, right there, resembled more to an excited child opening up his birthday presents rather than the semi-serious senior she had sometimes seen on campus.

She seemed to come back to her senses when she noticed Mark had been standing on the side of the road, waiting for the streetlight to turn green. One hand in the pocket of his coat while the other still had her wrist in grasp. Mark turned to her and flashed a smile at her, automatically she sent one back.

"We're not too far from it, you'll love it," he assured her, slowly bouncing on his heels, excited.

"Do you go there often?" She asked, just as the light turned green.

"Yupp, usually I'm with Jackson and Yugyeom. Sometimes Jinyoung joins. Oh, and Jaebum too, he's the one who showed us this place," Mark explained, a fond smile on his face when talking about his friends. Y/n smiled up at him.

"You guys seem to be close," she pointed out. Mark sent her a huge grin. The proud look on his face mesmerizing.

"Uhhuh, we've stuck together since middle school," he nodded, "Although, Yugyeom joined us when we were in high school, he's the youngest but we met him in the playground we used to go to play basketball. He was freakishly tall for being so young, we thought he was our age until he started calling us hyung, then we found out he was like 3-4 years younger," Mark laughed, the sound so painfully adorable even y/n found herself chuckling and smiling at him.

"Oh! We're here. Stay close, it's crowded," Mark smiled at her as she nodded. They walked into the market, looking at the various stalls.

Mark, even though on the outside he looked completely fine, was dying on the inside. He had been holding on her wrist for a long time. Was it weird? Did she feel uncomfortable? Was it rude? Is he dumb? What the heck? All these thoughts were running wild in his mind. But nonetheless, he didn't particularly want to let go of her, so he didn't. Don't ask him where that courage boost came from because he didn't know.

He slowly let go of her hand and y/n would be lying if she didn't feel disappointed. What? Well sure, it's not like she wanted to go on a date with him at first but Mark had a way with people and she surely understood now why so many people liked him. Mark Tuan, despite his reputation and all the love he received from people, was a humble gem. He was ordinary, the kind of ordinary that makes you feel comfortable and at ease.

A blush crept up the duo's necks when Mark took a hold of y/n's hand. Mark stopped breathing for a second, testing the waters. Seeing if she'd pull back. But she didn't, and so he engulfed her hand in his. She looked the other way, hoping, wishing, she wasn't blushing too much.

"Hey," Mark whispered, tilting his head down to her height so that she could hear him.

"Huh?" She hummed, turning back around to look at him. Only her movement was a bit too fast, and before he could retreat to his previous height, her face was right in front of his. Her breath hitched in her throat, his features more clear, vivid, at the close proximity.

Mark straightened up, clearing his throat. He cursed under his breath, before taking a deep breath and turning to face her with a cheeky smile on his lips. He raised their clasped hands and shook it a bit.

"Hope you don't mind?" He giggled adorably, the sound making y/n forget about their previous awkwardness. She shook her head.

"I don't," she smiled at him.

The two walked along the stalls of the market, laughing and enjoying their time and food. They stopped at many stalls to try various things. Mark was glad that y/n wasn't one of those stuck up girls that didn't know how to enjoy this kind of places. The loud atmosphere, the tight and crowded street, the warm air, the strong smell of food. He was glad he could share this with someone that like him, didn't mind all those things.

Mark looked at the girl walking one step infront of him. She had tied her hair up with a clip, a couple of loose strands framing her face, her bag was hung across her chest so she had both of her arms free. His coat, too warm for the already hot air, was thrown over her bag. He had told her he could have just carried it on his arm but she insisted that he needed both of his hands to eat.

He looked at her as her eyes scanned over the stalls they walked past. Her eyes were shining with amazement, a wide smile lit up her face. In a way, he was glad he was late and his reservation got cancelled. He had a feeling they wouldn't have had this much fun if they had dined there.

Mark kept his eyes on the girl, it was happening again. As clichè as it sounds it felt as if time slowed down, all the noise around him seemed to fade away, everything sounded as if he was underwater, everything but her blurred out. It was as if he was looking at her through a camera lense and he had focused only on her, everything else just a meaningless background that he didn't particularly care about. All he could see was her.

Her beautiful smile, her shining eyes, the hair strands framing her face, her collarbones, the thin necklace adorning her neck. All he could focus on was her. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, he couldn't understand this feeling at all. But he didn't want it to end, he wanted to drown in this feeling, this emotion, he wanted it to always be like this. If he knew what the feeling of being drugged was, this was it.

If happiness and contentment had come his way, he didn't know, but he hoped. He really hoped this was it. He hoped that feeling of being full of something, feeling warm inside, that everyone talked about, that happiness that people associated with various things, he hoped he had finally found it. And fuck, if that was what happiness and contentment and being at home felt like, god, he wanted to feel like this everyday.

Y/n scolded herself mentally as Mark took her hand in his again. His eyes were focused somewhere else, his action seemed spontaneous and if it wasn't, y/n wouldn't know and she was okay with not knowing. She smiled as she too averted her eyes around herself.

She scolded herself for not answering Mark's dm earlier, she scolded herself for not going on a date earlier but then again, maybe that is exactly why this felt so good. Maybe letting things happen at their own pace was the right thing to do.

So she told herself not to ponder about what was already in the past too much, she told herself to enjoy her time with Mark now and for as long as she could.

She didn't know why and how Mark made her feel so comfortable and how she felt at ease around him. But she did and surprisingly that's all that she found important. She told herself not to overthink what was happening and to just let everything happen on its own.

Their laughter mixing with the loud chatter and laugh of the people around them as they enjoyed their silly banters and jokes. The chilly breeze didn't feel so cold anymore as y/n walked beside Mark, hand in hand, arms pressed against each other, as they talked about what to try next.

45 notes · View notes

lahyene · 4 years ago

Text

Lone No More.

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader ft. shuri

Summary: You find yourself falling for the “White Wolf” when he moves to Wakanda, where you’re currently studying abroad for your major.

Themes: romance, fluff

Word count: 1283

You brush a strand of your hair behind your ear in the light breeze, eyes focused on the mysterious one-armed farmer in his home slightly further away. You have heard all about the legendary Winter Soldier, or “White Wolf” as the Wakandans have taken to calling him, but you have yet to get to know him. You wonder if you can possibly connect with him- both of you are foreigners, seeing that you are an environmental studies major from the US completing research in Wakanda. You love the people here, but it sometimes feels a bit lonely not having anyone who can share at least a little bit of your background. Maybe a man born in the 1910s and trained to be a ruthless assassin isn’t particularly the most relatable, but you figure it’s worth a shot to get to know him anyways.

“Hey! Y/N! You are staring again.” Shuri looks at you with amusement and you quickly snap back, clearing your throat.

“It wasn’t staring, I was just… observing! We don’t really ever have new people here…”

“Just go talk to him. He won’t bite. Not anymore, at least, thanks to me.” She teases, referring to her little job of returning his brain back to normal. “He could probably use a friend. Or… something more…” She gives you a smirk, eyebrows lifting and you laugh, immediately nudging her.

“Quit it! It’s not like that!” You watch him feeding his goats outside, barely biting your lip. “I would like to at least be friends though. Do you think maybe you could…”

Shuri chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully and grabbing your arm already pulling you towards his humble home. “Come on, come on. But you have to let me embarrass you just a little.” You whine half playfully, starting to regret wanting her to come along, but it’s too late now. She approaches the pathway going up to his house, calling out, “Oi! White Wolf! I have someone I want you to meet.”

You blink, somewhat blushing slightly. “Shuri! You don’t need to make it sound… I don’t know, like I have other intentions or something!” you hiss quietly, but when the lone man looks up and makes eye contact with you, you’re momentarily distracted.

Wow.

He definitely looks like he’s seen some things- bad things- and your heart already hurts for him. However, at the same time, he has a sense of confidence and optimism in his brown eyes that makes you feel an odd sense of pride and respect despite not even having made formal introductions yet. You’ve never felt so impacted by someone.

“Hello,” he greets, coming down the pathway- one arm by his side while a shawl drapes over the other side. You force yourself not to stare. “Bucky. Nice to meet ya.” He extends his hand and you immediately smile, placing yours in his.

“Y/N. You too, I’ve heard so much about you. I hope you’ve been settling in well.”

Shuri watches with a mischievous smirk, crossing her arms. “Of course he has. He’s had the best caretaker in the galaxy. Even though he is incredibly high maintenance.” She makes a playful face at him and he scoffs softly in amusement, a slight twinkle in his otherwise dark eyes as he just barely smiles. You wonder how often he’s even been able to do that within the past decade.

Before either of you can respond to her remark, she suddenly drops her mouth open in exaggerated concern. “Oh, no! I just remembered that I was supposed to meet my brother. You know how he is, just as needy as you are.” She nudges Bucky before looking to you with an innocent smile. “You two have fun though!”

Your eyes widen as you spin around, watching her practically scamper off. “Shuri- '' you call, but there’s no use- you stare after her fading figure for a few moments before turning back to him, laughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry, she’s a piece of work…”

He laughs quietly, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Believe me, I know. But she’s a good kid.” He looks at you for a few moments and you find yourself having no idea what to say- you’re getting slightly anxious because it’s becoming more awkward, but he suddenly breaks the silence.

“Want to come inside?”

“Come here, Steve! It’s dinner time!”

The tiny tan colored goat looks up from having been angrily headbutting the fence, looking slightly annoyed to be interrupted but reluctantly coming over nonetheless due to the fact that you’re holding food. Bucky comes up behind you, wrapping his one arm around your waist and clucking his tongue. “I can’t believe you named one of our goats after my best friend.”

“What? He’s exactly like how you described pre-serum Steve! The little guy, always fighting everything. He’s even blond!” you pointed out in protest, leaning over slightly to give the goat some food.

Bucky can’t help but chuckle, eyes flickering over the scrawny runt. “Alright, alright fair.” He kisses your cheek, peering at the other goats eating their food. “I just think Steve is a ridiculous goat name. But you’re lucky I like you enough to let it be.” He glances down at you with a smirk and you roll your eyes fondly, though happily hold his arm around you. “What a relief. I feel so honored,” you reply playfully sarcastic.

You and Bucky have been together for nearly six months now. You clicked right off the bat upon meeting that first day- after inviting you inside, the two of you had talked for hours and hours. You felt like you had known him your whole life, and now, he’s your best friend and partner. Shuri constantly teases you and jokes that your relationship is all thanks to her, and in a way, it's true- you wonder if you would have ever had the courage to approach him yourself. You laugh at such a fear now; back then, he seemed so intimidating and aloof, and now, you know him as a little flirtatious goofball who loves to tease. You’ve noticed a significant improvement in his mental health, and you couldn’t be happier that he’s becoming healthier each day.

“Mm. That’s right. Now come on, sassy girl, it’s time for our dinner.” He takes your hand and leads you inside the hut, sitting down with you at the small wooden table where the food is already laid out. Fresh bread, cheese, and warm stew- you barely even find yourself missing food from back home now that you have such an amazing partner to eat farm fresh food with.

He notices you looking at the food with a little too much fondness in your eyes, and he reaches over to poke at your side playfully. “Hello? Anyone in there? I know you love food but I’ve never seen you space out over it.” You blink and giggle slightly, poking him back. “Yeah, I was just… thinking about something. You. And that I love you a lot.”

He looks at you and smiles softly, eyes gazing at you lovingly.

“Well. Isn’t that sweet of my little doll. I love you too.” He leans in to peck your lips gently before pulling back. “Now eat up. It’s a lot of work cooking with one arm you know, don’t let it go to waste.”

You laugh softly, lifting his hand to kiss his fingers cutely before nodding your head, serving yourself.

It’s a dangerous world the two of you live in, and he’s had an unfortunate past. You don’t know what’s to come, but you’re confident that as long as you’re by each other’s side, everything will work out in the end.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #writing

129 notes · View notes

wolffesimp · 4 years ago

Text

Tenderness

summary: y/n loves to dance, especially with other people. when cody finds her dancing with obi wan, he is intrigued. deciding to give it a try, he asks y/n to dance with him.

a/n: you can listen to this song right here, as the fic is slightly based off of it. the lyrics will be in the fic as well it is one of my favorites by frank sinatra! i’ll give you guys this symbol (✩) so you know when to start the song if you would like!

obi wan and y/n were in the hallways alone. he seemed worried about something as always. so, y/n insisted for him to dance with her. she thought of dancing as her own therapy. a way to let off steam.

obi wan happened to be an avid dancer, as he often accompanied senators and such to banquets. the thrum of a familiar tune sounded in his ears. y/n smiled brightly, offering a dainty hand to the general.

“can i have this dance, obi wan?”

an urbane grin graced his lips. taking her hand, he kissed it gently. “of course you may.”

they were nothing but the best of friends. both were naturally flirty, so this behavior was nothing out of the ordinary. y/n was about 10 years younger than him, youth still clear in her skin. she sported a cultivating red dress, accompanied by comfortable white boots.

about every clone had a crush on her. however, her heart longed for only one man. commander cody. and obi wan knew it. oh maker, did he know it. their crushes on each other were painstakingly obvious. constant teasing came from both clones and jedi behind closed doors. the amount of empty death threats coming from y/n were disconcerning.

obi wan’s hands rested at her hips while her own hands rested on his chest. her droid happily beeped, playing the music through its newly installed speakers. their feet followed after one another effortlessly. she hummed the tune, looking obi wan in his charming eyes.

spinning her with his right arm, a giggle fell from her lips. her hair swirled about her face as she was in motion. obi wan let out an amused chuckle as he drew her into his chest. the energy that drifted from them was full of pure joy.

cody walked down the hallway. he was perplexed, as he heard the loud music from a good distance away. when he saw the sight in front of him, he became slightly jealous. there was his girl, dancing with the general. his hurt was masked by the bucket he wore on his head as he came nearer to them.

clearing his throat awkwardly, he caught the attention of the pair. “general kenobi, commander y/n.”

“cody, you are just in time!” obi wan proclaimed

taking off his helmet, he set it down on the floor. “i’m sorry, general?”

“you and y/n should dance!”

“but sir i have an important messgae-”

“i’ll just go find out what it is myself! now go, cody.”

in passing, kenobi stopped him, whispering into his ear. “now is your chance!”

obi wan speed walked down the hallway, making it his goal to give them as much alone time as possible. cody turned to y/n, who was waiting for him. a certain longing was clear in her eyes. her hands ached to touch any part of him.the bright smile she offered him nearly made him turn into a pile of goo.

he returned a suave smile. “would you like to dance?”

she was breathless. “sure,”

the old song faded out. a new, playful tune entered the room. guitar strumming gently, followed by horns. an angelic voice accompanied the song, fitting the mood of the room perfectly. (✩)

taking her waist with his large hands, he peered down at her. a blush fell upon her cheeks at the contact. he only smirked at her, knowing the effect he was having on the girl. but as she finally touched him, his somewhat arrogant exterior disappeared.

y/n’s droid nudged her legs. with a small laugh, y/n began dancing with cody. he was in somewhat of a daze, too focused on the fact that she was so close to him. she rubbed her fingers against his chest, sending a tingling sensation throughout his body. cody was touch-starved all throughout his life, only ever finding affections from his brothers.

“i-i’m sorry if i’m not any good at dancing.”

his meek apology softened her heart. “oh please cody. you could never do anything wrong in my eyes.”

the distance between their bodies felt wrong. as if thinking the same thing, he pulled her into his chest. y/n’s cheek rested against him, feeling his heartbeat thrum against her supple flesh. she giggled at the fact that his heartbeat was so fast, signaling that he was nervous.

“what are you laughing about, my cyar’ika?”

she didn’t want to embarrass him. “oh nothing. i’ve just been waiting for this moment for a very long time.”

their bodies were pressed against each other. it was an intimate moment, perhaps the most intimate they have ever been. cody wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her impossibly closer. he longed to feel her against his skin, his wishes finally being answered.

“you have?”

“oh yes.”

cody began to wonder how to tell y/n that he loved her. she consumed his thoughts most of the time. his dreams were filled with her, taunting him in his sleep. at night he was restless. body aching from war, and heart aching for his cyar’ika.

y/n moved her arms, snaking them down to his lower torso. squishing her face against his taught chest, he eased against her. a content sigh fell from his lips as they swayed to the guitar. y/n’s hips brushed against his upper thighs, causing him to shiver.

“what does cyar’ika mean, cody?”

guiding her chin upwards, his eyes bored into her own. y/n could’ve sworn she saw the galaxy in his golden orbs. the color was of a striking brilliance. she awaited his response, patiently studying his features.

“it means...beloved.”

there was a pause of silence. pondering her choice of words, she just decided to be blunt.

“i’m your beloved?”

his hands cupped the sides of her face. “maker’s sake, y/n! of course you are. you have been ever since day one!”

the intensity of his stare meant that he was being earnest. and the desperation in his tone spoke volumes. loosening his grip on her cheeks, he looks down at his feet. cody was filled with dread. he knew y/n could never return his affections.

“i knew someone like you could never love someone like me.”

“what?! what do you mean?”

“us clones, we aren’t meant to love. we are meant to fight and destroy. i don’t deserve someone like you.”

y/n was beyond angry at him. “cody, i mean this in the nicest way possible, but shut the fuck up.”

his eyes widened. she silenced him with words as she spoke up again.

“you are deserving of all the love the world can give. but first, i’ll give you my own.”

cody’s brows furrowed. “you love me?”

“of course i do!”

cody laughed, squeezing her tight against his body. she returned the embrace, smiling into his hard chest of armor. they started moving again to the beat of the dance. y/n’s force signature radiated adoration for her commander.

“i love you too, y/n. ya know, i used to always get jealous of the other men who were brave enough to make advances towards you. but you always rejected them, for a reason that i never understood until now. thank you for waiting for me, cyar’ika.”

y/n’s droid clattered enthusiastically behind them. both laughed, knowing that their old tin-can had been waiting for this to finally happen. cody lifted her from her feet, causing her to cry out. tossing her in the air, she landed in his arms. y/n was giggling through her words.

“give me...a warning n-next time!”

cody smirked down at his cyar’ika. her feet hung out of his secure arms, while her head was nuzzled up against his chest. she looked up at cody, moving closer to his face. he helped her along, lifting her body slightly.

y/n’s fingers traced the scar on his face. she was careful to avoid his eye, continuing her path down his cheek until it ended. cody’s eyes closed, a huff leaving his lips. all stress left his body in that moment. warmth surrounded cody and y/n.

right then and there, nothing else mattered. it was only cody and his cyar’ika. not a single person could break the two apart. they were bonded in an everlasting friendship and relationship of intimacy.

when y/n cupped his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. y/n pecked him on the forehead tenderly. cody’s heart ached from the affection she was giving him. the song began to fade out.

“thank you for the dance, cody. now how about some tea?” y/n said fondly

a/n: wow so my new fics really out here not gaining any interaction...ok cool :’)

masterlist for more of my content

90 notes · View notes

blake-belladonna-defence-force · 5 years ago

Note

- B is paranoid because they just watched a scary movie and A cuddles with them until B falls asleep. BEES CUDDLING. I can totes see Yang being a scaredy cat for horror and Blake is like indifferent and more of annoyed with the stupidity of the characters in the movie hahaha.

*snort* there is something vaguely amusing about big, strong Yang being terrified of scary movies, eh?

Hope you enjoy 😊

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“I swear, the teenagers in these stupid slashers get dumber and dumber.” Blake muttered as she and Yang entered their empty Beacon dorm room. Ruby and Weiss had been sent on a simple clearing mission for the sake of strengthening their partnership. Blake and Yang, themselves, would be going on one in a couple of days. “And why is the blonde always so stupid? Seriously. Why can’t she be good looking and smart?! Why is intelligence always portrayed as “brunette and plain with big glasses?” Why do they try to force these characters into boxes that they don’t belong in?”

Blake let out a final huff as she turned to face Yang, who had sat on Blake’s bed, and quirked a brow at the sight of her partner shivering and looking nervously out of the window. She was twitchy and jumpy, lilac eyes darting around anxiously.

“Yang?” Blake asked cautiously, untying her ribbon and shaking out her hair. She calmly placed her ribbon down on the desk and ran her hand through her hair as she looked at Yang curiously. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Yang yelped in surprise, evidently startled. “Yeah, no! I’m fine! I’m great, even!” She grinned unconvincingly, playing with her hair.

“Uh huh.” Blake hummed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at her friend for a moment before shrugging. If Yang didn’t want to talk, she couldn’t force her. “Okay. Then we should probably get ready for bed. We have to start getting supplies for our mission tomorrow and I would rather not use my partner as a campfire, thank you very much.”

Blake smiled softly when Yang snorted in amusement, shaking her head fondly as they both got ready and jumped into their respective beds. Soon, though, Blake started to notice that Yang was unusually restless; shifting around above her, tossing and turning as she struggled to get comfortable. Every so often, Blake’s sensitive hearing caught the sound of Yang’s breath hitching as a noise was heard from outside.

“You know… it’s okay if the movie scared you.” Blake said quietly into the dark, her ears flicking when Yang bit back a squeak of surprise. “There’s no shame in it.”

“I’m not scared!” Yang scoffed indignantly, leaning over her bed and glaring at Blake, though it’s affect was somewhat lost due to her being upside down. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” Blake hummed softly, tilting her head with a small smile. “Then you should have been asleep an hour ago.”

“... how do you know my sleeping habits? Should I be worried?”

“No, of course not.” Blake huffed as she sat up and looked at Yang with a small sigh. “You know that I grew up outside the Kingdoms. I’m used to a certain way of life. I can’t fall asleep until I know everyone else is okay. Ruby’s the first one out, followed by you half an hour later. Weiss dozes off 15 minutes after that. I fall asleep around 5 minutes after.”

“So… you feel like you have to make sure we’re all okay before you can sleep?” Yang tilted her head at Blake, a small smile gracing her lips. “That’s… kind of sweet. But you really don’t have to.”

“I’m aware. It’s just… not something I can shut off.” Blake said, feeling an embarrassed warmth creep up her neck towards her cat ears as she looked down at her blanket and fiddled with it. “I just… can’t.”

“Oh my god.” Yang chuckled teasingly, a smirk clear in her voice. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute!”

“You totally are-“

Blake raised her brows when Yang was cut off by a clap of thunder, and watched in surprise when Yang fell off of her bed and instinctively jumped up and latched into Blake.

“So… not scared, huh?”

“Sorry!” Yang yelped, sitting upright, holding herself stiffly. She didn’t move far, her cheeks a bright flush of embarrassment despite her apparent reluctance to move too far away. “I didn’t mean-“

“Yang.” Blake chuckled softly as she pulled Yang into a soft hug, her heart stuttering when Yang froze for a moment before melting into her. “You’re fine.”

“... thank you.” Yang muttered as she buried her face into the side of Blake’s neck, her arms wrapping around Blake’s waist as she quietly accepted comfort from her.

Blake swallowed thickly, leaning back against the wall and let Yang cuddle up to her. This was new. This was very new and very nerve wracking… but it wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

After some time, Blake glanced down at the top of Yang’s golden head, blinking in surprise when soft snores began to leave her.

“Did you really just fall asleep on me?” Blake whispered quietly, her breath hitching violently when Yang snuggled closer, her arms tightening almost protectively around her waist, her nose nuzzling into Blake’s skin as she let out a sleepy whine in her sleep. “And now I’m your overgrown teddy. Great.” Blake sighed, rolling her eyes before carefully readjusting them so that they were laying down. She let out a soft, protesting grunt when Yang pressed impossibly close, shoving her head under Blake’s chin with a distress noise in her sleep. “You’re fine.” Blake soothed gently, her amber eyes darting around nervously as she tried to breath. Monsters, she could handle. But Yang deciding to snuggle up to her? Apparently not.

“And you had to nerve to call me cute.” Blake sighed heavily, hesitantly running a hand down Yang’s back as she nuzzled her neck. She closed her eyes felt a small, almost shy smile spread across her face.

She had to admit… Yang made for a wonder hot water bottle.

#bumbleby #fanfic #my writing #rwby #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

134 notes · View notes

thesaltysocialworker · 4 years ago

Text

The Mistress

I just noticed I hit over 100 followers while I’ve been taking a bit of a short break to work on some of my original stuff. Thank you to all of you wonderful people who’ve followed me. I hope I can continue to grow as a writer and you continue to enjoy my work. <3

The Mistress

Word Count: 5,226

Synopsis: You’d gone from a simple “farm girl” to the mistress of the youngest prince of Asgard. Despite being deeply in love with one another, there’s one problem-- you’re married, and your husband is tired of being second to your very public relationship with your lover. (Set before the first Thor movie.)

Warnings: Mentions of Sex. Domestic Violence. Character death.

Asgard had won a great victory, and as their soldier’s returned from battle women and children lined the streets to cheer for them. You had raced out of the Gardens where you’d been sitting with the other notable ladies of court. You’d heard the commotion, and like the other women, you too were awaiting a loved one returning home. All of you moved through the halls of the Palace like a herd of animals, moving around people in your paths and giggling as you did so. It gave you the feeling of giddiness, of utter excitement as you moved to the steps of the Palace. You all stopped quickly, keeping a respectful distance behind Queen Frigga. She heard the teasing from all of you, the giggling but she looked back at your group with amusement, not disdain. It was perfect day, it was hard to ruin the mood.

King Odin entered the gates first, both of his sons riding a respectful distance behind him clad in their armor. “Norns, look at Thor! What I wouldn’t give to be that horse-“ One of your friends whispered, and you nudged her.

You tilted your head towards the Queen. It was one thing to giggle about those things to each other, but not around the Queen; their mother. One of the guards that had remained behind with the Queen took the reins of the Kings horse as he slid off the saddle and moved up the stairs to Frigga. In a romantic moment, Frigga moved quickly down the stairs to embrace her husband tightly. You found yourself oddly jealous; to be in such a marriage that time and distance did not alter ones feelings was a gift. A gift you were not so blessed to have received.

“Tonight, we feast and we celebrate our victory!” Odin announced as he spun around on the steps to face his men, and the men of the army cried out in response. The Princes slid off their horses, removing their helmets and climbed up the steps. Thor stopped to acknowledge the lot of you. “Ladies.” He grinned, his eyes dancing over all of you. He was deciding which one of you he would spend the Feast and then the evening with. Your group of friends giggled, congratulating Thor on his victory—as though he himself had won the battle. You rolled your eyes, and then you were toe-to-toe with Loki.

“My Prince.” You whispered, your breath catching in your throat as you stared into his brilliant blue-green eyes. “My Love, I’ve missed you.” He brought a hand to your waist, his lips falling to yours. It was like eternities had passed, and yet no time had passed at all. His armor was cold against your body, the two of forgetting you were being watched by the others entering the Palace. Some of the men entering the hall whistled and cat-called. Loki was in too good of a mood to care, he actually laughed as he pulled away from you and rest his forehead against yours.

“Come to the Feast, and then we’ll make up for lost time.” He whispered so only you could hear it. You nodded, Loki twirled a strand of your soft locks around his fingers before leaving for his rooms to ready himself for the feast. You cleared your throat, watching his retreating frame with sharp eyes. Your friends behind you had been giggling at Loki’s affection for you. But then another man approached and they fell silent, bowing their heads. It was always awkward when you had to greet your husband after your lover. “Davyn.” You were respectful and kind, bowing your head. “Y/n, my sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. Despite his sweet words, his voice precieved anything but love. He offered you a hand, which you accepted as the two of you moved through the halls towards your rooms. Davyn’s hand gripped you too tightly, as if trying to maintain some sense of control where he felt he had none.

You didn’t love Davyn, you loved Loki. Davyn was an arranged marriage, a marriage above your station as he had high rank in the Kings guard and you were a craftsman’s daughter. Once you were married you were forced to move with Davyn to the Palace of Asgard, away from your family. Initially you were exceptionally lonely, you didn’t know anyone there well, including your exceptionally distant husband. But you cleaned up well, and you had caught the eye of the youngest Prince. He had asked you to dance one evening at a Feast, and the rest was history.

One dance turned to love notes, turned to dinners and kisses stolen in the darkest hallways of the Palace. You had tried to resist, but you found Loki charming and easy to talk too when you had no one. You were terrified of your husband finding out, of being shamed and shunned as a harlot. But you also didn’t understand the workings of court. Loki had simply staked his claim on you as his mistress. No one was allowed to question it, as he was the Prince. Even your husband did not question it, he was forced to watch and hold his tongue. He was forced to smile in the face of the man taking you to his bed every evening. You could only imagine his embarrassment; especially when you hung on Loki’s arms at parties and feasts and diplomatic events, proudly sporting his colors. You knew it was only a matter of time until he could no longer smile in the face of his enemy.

As the two of you entered your modest quarters, you closed the door and awaited the rage you knew would come. Davyn tossed his helmet across your rooms, it slammed against the wall hit the floor with a loud clang. “Must you allow him to shove his tongue down your throat for all to see?! It was bad enough when there were just whispers that you were his whore, now no one questions it.” You felt your face turning red, both from embarrassment and rage. “His generosity pays for your spending habits, Davyn.” You sneered. More than once you had to sneak out of the Palace at an ungodly hour and sell a piece of jewelry or a fancy gown to pay off his gambling debts and then drag your drunken idiot of a husband back to the Palace. For some time you felt guilty, as if your circumstances had caused him some level of suffering that made him drink. But then you remembered he’d been doing this long before Loki had made it public that you were his mistress. Except Davyn would just take the beatings of the men he owed money too then, because you had no power to rescue him.

“You’ve become quite an outspoken little whore.” He snapped, closing the distance between you and gripping your face in one hand. You regarded each other with nothing short of loathing. Before you could even retort, he left you alone in the room. You knew exactly where he was going, he was going to celebrate with the other members of the guard. You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you, but it did. You felt torn between two men. This was something you had never imagined could happen to you and you could’ve never prepared for it. You moved to sit at your dressing table, trying to put on a pleasant face on for the evening. At least you wouldn’t have to return here tonight to face Davyn’s drunken temper tantrums. If he got into any trouble, he could fend for himself.

You felt like a Queen whenever you were on Loki’s arm. Not just because he spoiled you with designer gowns and jewels, but because he treated you like you were special to him. He made you feel important, and it was part of the reason you loved him. You approached him outside the hall, realizing you were a few moments late. “I’m sorry, my Prince-“ You panted. You had run here, losing track of time. The emerald green gown whipped around your ankles. He caught your chin, bringing it your lips. “You look beautiful. It was worth the wait.” The two of you linked arms, walking into the hall as people danced and drank, music floating through the candle lit hall. The royal family sat at the head table, and you joined them for dinner frequently. At first, it had caused whispers and strange looks; now when you and Loki entered a room no one paid you any mind unless they were new to court.

“Lady y/l/n.” Odin greeted you fondly, and you curtsied. You and Loki moved to your seats, Frigga greeted you warmly with a hand falling on your knee as she leaned forward to kiss your cheeks. “You look lovely in green.” She added kindly. You liked to believe that she favored you, and that if the Queen had a choice in daughter-in-laws, you would be it. “Thank you, your Majesty.” You bowed your head before reaching for the spiced cider in your glass. You and Frigga listened to Thor and Loki speak of their magnificent victory and glory on the battlefields, the two adding details onto each other’s descriptions in case one forgot something of value. You could only smile, knowing it was likely less grand than they were describing, but you were just happy to have the two of them back without harm.

Frigga and Odin often left the feasts early, citing age and the need to rest as their reason. Thor had moved to drink with the warriors three and Sif. You and Loki were finally alone. “Do you wish to stay and socialize under the harsh glares of your husband or would you prefer time alone?” Loki asked, his hand falling atop yours and your fingers threading together. “We should try to be somewhat social. One dance and we’ll sneak off?” You smiled, and he nodded. He stood, bowing and offering you a hand which you accepted. He led you to the dance floor, the two of you spinning around together in the crowds in a flurry of green, gold and black. You could feel your husbands eyes burning into your back, and you decided to press the boundaries of decency. Why not? You were already a mistress.

You broke decorum, your body flesh against Loki’s during the dance when there was meant to be some formal distance between the two of you. You could feel his body respond, his beautiful eyes churning like the sea and lust blown from weeks away from you. The ladies of court had whispered that he would tire of you, that he would be unfaithful; but he had not. He desired you, only you. Part of the dance came where the men lifted their partners at the waist too twirl them; and when Loki lifted you, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he twirled you. Your soft hands caressed the sharp lines of his beautiful pale face. “Norns, y/n—“ Loki’s voice was low, husky. It was the growl of a man who was gradually losing control. When he set you back on your feet, the two of you moved around each other like a predator and prey as the music finished; your eyes locked on each other’s.

People clapped before another song started, and Loki caught your hand. He began pulling you out of the hall and towards his rooms. “You’re angry, I was out of line-“ You started, he said nothing as the two of you moved. Normally you behaved like any young maiden would; respectfully. What you just did was wanton, and surely people would talk. You would go back to being ‘Loki’s whore’ again, instead of your name. “Let them. It bothers me not, they know whom you truly belong too.” You entered Loki’s rooms, and he somehow managed to light what felt like thousands of candles. Rose petals were scattered across the floor, the bed and into the bathroom where a candlelit bath was waiting for the two of you. You were touched by these small gestures, glancing at the Prince. “You treat me like a Queen when I’m only a mistress.”

“You’re my Queen, y/n. You’re not only my mistress, you are my everything. I would lay awake at night thinking of you while I was away, I waited for your letters just to catch a hint of your scent, your sense of humor to brighten my day.” You melted, your eyes brimming with tears. “How I wish I could be truly yours, Loki. Just yours.” You whispered, pressing your lips to his. He pulled back, his eyes studying yours. “There are ways, my Dear.” His hand fell to your stomach. For a moment you thought he was going to cast the contraceptive spell he used when the two of you were together. But his hand just lingered there, his eyes meeting yours. “If you were to become pregnant with my child, Davyn would be forced to relinquish his claim on you. You would be the mother of an heir of Asgard.”

“It’d be more of a scandal then when you chose a married woman as your mistress. Your father is just now accepting your relationship with me. I don’t dare push the issue further.” I tried to force him to see reason. “Odin was forgiving though he didn’t like our relationship, I doubt he’d be forgiving about an heir conceived out of wedlock.” Loki sighed, you could tell he was equally as frustrated by this arrangement. “Then I kill him. I challenge him to a duel and the winner gets you. There hasn’t been such a duel in ages but the law still stand.” You shook your head. “I don’t like him but I don’t want him dead.” Loki was frustrated. “What do you want, y/n?! I’m running out of options and I am desperate to have you without that man’s interference. Every moment apart of you feels like a thousand years. Every time I see him touch you it takes every ounce of strength to not drive my dagger through his heart. He knows he owns the one thing I want, I would kill for.”

You pressed your lips to his, stopping the ranting as you gently caressed his face again. “There’s nothing we can do about this tonight, Loki. Perhaps I can reason with him. Would your father allowed our marriage to be annulled? Could you try to convince him to do so?” I asked, and Loki nodded. “I’ll do my best, Father has grown fond of you over these few months. I’ll speak with him tomorrow.” He caught your hand, leading you to the bathroom. “For now, let’s turn to more pleasant things.” He brought his hand gently over your body, your gown falling from your frame and pooling at your feet on the floor.

Anytime with Loki was never enough.

He slept comfortably at your side in his bed in the early hours of the morning. But you always woke early on these days, fearing the return to your chambers and your husband. Knowing you weren’t going to get anymore sleep, you slid out of bed and slipped back into last evening’s gown. Before leaving, you put one knee on the bed and leaned over to press a kiss gently to Loki’s lips. “I love you.” You whispered to the sleeping man, knowing he didn’t hear you. You always expressed your love when he was sleeping, even knowing he wished to claim you as his own. It felt wrong to say the words to him when you were bound to another.

You collected your shoes and jewelry, walking barefoot down the near silent halls to your room. You expected Davyn to be asleep by the time you arrived, but he was awake. He must’ve had another rage, as you noticed he’d broken furniture through the room. “What you did last night with him at the feast was lewd, disgusting. I am the laughing stock of my unit. They whisper about how I must be incapable of satisfying you if you’d sleep with Loki, the Prince of lies.” Davyn whispered, his rage was controlled and that startled you more than if he screamed at you. You were used to the screaming. “I apologize for my actions and the embarrassment they caused you. But you should know I love him, Davyn. It’s more than just sex. Please let me go, let’s end this farce of a marriage.” That was what tossed your husband right over the precipice of reason.

He moved from the bed. “You’d still be some stupid farm girl if it weren’t for me!” Davyn raged. He approached you quickly, and you tried to run towards the door but he caught your wrist and dragged you back into the room. He placed himself between you and the door, and you tried to rush around him again in an attempt to escape, but he lifted you and tossed you back onto the floor over his shoulder. You fell onto the floor, the wind leaving your lungs and your head starting to throb where it hit. You could feel your hair becoming damp and warm from blood. He climbed onto you, tugging your skirts up. “I should lock you in here, refuse to let you go to him. You are my wife, and whether he likes it you are my property. Maybe you need to be reminded of that!”

“Stop, Davyn! Please stop!” You begged. You had resented him, you had even felt sympathy for him for some time, you had feared him, but now you had truly started to hate him. His hands went from your skirts to your face, slapping you harshly to stop your screaming and shrieking for help from anyone who could hear. Then he wrapped his hands around your throat and squeezed. You tried to scratch at his face, his hands and wrists to get him to stop. But you realized he wouldn’t; whether it be the alcohol or the rage he would kill you right there if you didn’t fight back somehow. Your brain whirled and you thought of the only way to save yourself; play dead. You stopped fighting and pretended to pass out. He stopped. “Norns, y/n…” He muttered, he climbed off you and started muttering under his breath. “My Gods, what have I done?” Then he left the room, flying out of it and slamming the door.

“Loki-“ You choked out, your voice hoarse. You were hoping he’d hear you, but he didn’t respond. You needed to get out of there, if Davyn came back he may really end your life this time. You managed to pull yourself to your feet, leaning against the wall as you rose. It took every ounce of strength you had left to move out into the hallway, zig-zagging through it like you were drunk. The light burned your eyes. Not many were awake yet. You were almost there when you fell to the floor, sobbing as the pain began to overwhelm you. What you didn’t realize was that you had landed near the elder Prince’s rooms. A few minutes later, Thor opened the door and glanced both ways as he escorted one of your friends from his room, the two of them giggling about their night spent together. But as she tried to make her way back to her rooms, she tripped over your legs. She shrieked when she saw you; black and blue and bloody. Thor rushed to your side, guards appearing at the same time.

“Y/n, what happened?!” Thor asked, bending down to lift you in his arms. “Davyn.” You choked out. “Someone fetch Loki and send him to the healing room, I’ll meet him there.” Thor told one of the guards. Your friend came with you and Thor. “Why would he do that?” She asked Thor, as if you weren’t there or couldn’t hear her. “Jealousy. But it’s never an excuse for a man to put his hands on a woman. He needs to be punished.” Thor was angry, and that surprised you. You couldn’t remember a time you didn’t see him with a smile on his face.

As you entered the healing room, the young healer there was shocked by your condition. “What happened, my Prince?” She was mortified by your broken body on her table. “Her husband.” The healer shook her head, beginning her work on you. You were in and out of consciousness, but she tried to speak with you and keep you calm, letting you know what she was doing so she didn’t frighten you with her rapid movements. Your friends sat by your side, holding your hand.

You knew when Loki made his arrival. You could hear the door slam open, you could hear Thor trying to speak with Loki and warn him about what he was about to witness. You could hear him move past Thor and he moved to your bedside. “Oh, my love.” He whispered, reaching out a hand delicately to trace over the hand print that was forming on your face. “Loki, I tried but he won’t let me go. He won’t ever let me go.” You sobbed. He didn’t know how to comfort you, because he feared you were right. You could see his fear in his eyes. “He won’t be a problem for us if he’s dead.” Loki sneered, leaving your side. You tried to scream out to stop him, still trying to protect Davyn even after what he’d done to you.

“Let him settle it, y/n. This is out of your hands now.” Your friend added, squeezing your hand again. You knew she was right, but you were terrified that Loki was going for vengeance, not justice.

When the Healer released you, you couldn’t go back to your rooms. You were too terrified to be anywhere near Davyn. Your friend was going to allow you to stay in her rooms with her but as you left the healing rooms you were met by two guards. “Ms. Y/n, we were asked to escort you to Prince Loki’s rooms and not to leave your side until you’re safely inside.” Despite their words, you could sense their resentment. They had fought alongside Davyn, these men were his friends. You didn’t fight them, you stayed silent and your friend stayed with you until you were in Loki’s rooms. The last person you expected to see there was the Queen, relaxing in one of the green arm chairs near the fire.

The two of you were alone, you moved to curtsey but she stopped you. “No, not after what you’ve been through. Sit, y/n. Please.” You moved to sit across from her, folding your hands in your lap and staring through her. “Where is Loki?” You asked, almost afraid to know the answer to that question. “I imagine preparing for the duel against Davyn.” That made you focus, drew you out of your haze. “What?!” You practically shouted. You raced across the floor to the door, trying to open it to stop him but it was locked. “He can’t!” You weren’t sure whom you were more worried about; Loki or Davyn. Both were fierce warriors. “He did. As soon as he saw what Davyn did to you he found him and challenged him for your hand. It’s all the talk, there hasn’t been a duel like this in at least five hundred years.”

“He’s your son, you can talk him out! Tell him to stop!” Frigga met your eyes, and she stood. “I won’t. Not just because I believe in my son as a warrior, but because what happened to you was wrong. I’m not just speaking about last night. You’ve endured years of his abuse, most were too blind too see it. But I see things that most miss, or choose to ignore.” You didn’t argue, you wrapped your arms around yourself as if trying to shield yourself from the reality and the truth of her words. “You’re not the first woman at court to be forced into an arranged marriage, but I’m hoping you’re the last. My hope is that at the very least, other abusive men will see what happens to Davyn today and rethink their actions.”

“You wish to use my marriage as an example at court.” You were embarrassed, but maybe if it saved someone from this fate it would be worth it. “Partially. Mostly I wish to see my son happy, and you make him very happy.” You felt giddy at those words, because he made you happy. Because he made the darkest moments of your life bearable. “I love him.” Frigga smiled. “I know, dear.” She offered you a hand. You accepted and she sandwiched her hands over yours. “We will be hopeful that fate falls in our favor today. Come, we have a duel to attend.” Frigga could sense your terror, both at the thought of this duel but also at seeing Davyn again. You stepped outside, overlooking the training grounds.

Thor stood beside Loki, speaking softly with him on the training grounds. You glanced to the other side and saw Davyn speaking with a few members of the guard who were cheering him on. Then you noticed that every eye was on you and it seemed like half the population of Asgard was there. No matter how this ended this evening blood would be on your hands. “May I go to him?” you asked Frigga. “I don’t see why not. I’ll come with you.” You were so thankful for this strong, powerful woman. You weren’t sure you would’ve had the guts to come here alone. You moved over the dirt towards Loki and Thor, they didn’t see you approaching because they were so involved in what they were doing. But when Loki saw you, he closed the distance between the two of you. You leapt into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to do this.” You sobbed, burying your face in the space where his neck met his shoulder. One of your favorite places to kiss him because it caused shivers to run up and down his body. You tried to remember the feel of his body against yours, his smell, everything—in case the worst happened. When you thought of that possibility it only made you sob harder. Loki set you back on your feet, his fingers catching your chin. “This was bound to happen eventually, my love. Neither of us are willing to let you go. Though I expect in his case it’s more that he wishes to embarrass me.” You shook your head. “I don’t want anyone to die for me.” Thor and One of Davyn’s friends had met in the center of the training grounds, and after a few moments of heated debate they parted to their respective sides. “It’s time.” Thor announced rather grimly as he approached. Loki pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, y/n. Mother-“ Loki called, and Frigga put a hand on your shoulder. Loki and Frigga exchanged a solemn glance, and you knew they were communicating without words.

Loki turned and strode towards where Davyn waited, pulling on his helmet. Frigga led you off the battleground with Thor on your other side. Words were exchanged, and as soon as you the three of you were off the grounds the fight began. Davyn threw the first blow, trying to stab Loki with his sword as Loki side-stepped and managed to avoid the blow. Davyn moved around him at a jog, but Loki kept his eyes on him; his sword drawn as he watched him carefully. Davyn leapt into the air and tried to drive his sword down into Loki, but Loki brought a shield to the blow and stumbled backwards. You were shaking, feeling like you were going to retch. Thor set a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

It was like an intricate dance, when Davyn swung Loki would step back and bring his shield forward then Loki would swing his sword at Davyn. “Why isn’t he using his magic?” you asked Thor, he could’ve killed Davyn a thousand times by now simply using an illusion. “It was agreed that the weapon would be swords, and that Loki would not use his magic.” Your stomach turned again, but despite Loki using a sword you could see the glint of Loki’s daggers on his side as he moved in the setting sun. Davyn brought his shield to his chest, trying to stab Loki over his shield. Loki brought his sword down across one of Davyn’s arms over the shield when he crouched down to move and Davyn cried out in pain but didn’t stop his low, quick movements or jabs at the younger Prince. You feel fell Thor tensing beside you, muttering ‘come on, Loki’ under his breath.

You could hear the clang of the metal as the blows became faster and faster; shields hitting sword as Loki backed Davyn into a corner. You closed your eyes and prayed to whatever God was listening to spare Loki’s life and give him the grace to spare Davyn and banish him, demote him. Anything bit death. Loki let out a howl, bringing his foot behind Davyn’s ankle as the man stumbled and Loki brought his sword to Davyn’s throat. “Let her go, release her to me. I’ll let you walk out this Palace banished and alive.” Loki pressed his sword tighter to Davyn’s throat. “I yield.” Davyn uttered, his face red from embarrassment and the struggle of the battle. Loki sheathed his sword and began walking away from Davyn, you broke away from Thor and moved to Loki.

As you walked over the battlefield towards Loki, you saw Davyn’s friends helping him up onto his feet. You were going to thank Loki for being benevolent, when it had likely taken everything in him not to kill Davyn for what he did to you. But you froze, you saw Davyn lift his sword and race towards Loki. You couldn’t even open your mouth to scream. Loki saw the terror on your face and spun around on his heels, bringing his sword right into Davyn’s stomach with a huge thrust. His blood fell into the dirt at Loki’s feet, and Loki pulled out his sword as Davyn fell lifeless to the ground. You couldn’t move, frozen to the spot as you stared at your husband’s lifeless body.

Loki handed off his sword to Thor, and then caught you by the shoulders and spun you around so you couldn’t watch anymore. He brought you with him back into the Palace, away from the stunned crowds. “I’m sorry, my love. I tried to spare his life-“ Loki had turned to face you once you were far enough away from the door, away from the horror of that moment. “He died a coward’s death. You tried to spare his life, and he refused to have any humility.” You offered him a hand, and he accepted. “I owe you my life, Loki. You’ve granted me my freedom, for the first time in years I don’t feel afraid anymore.”

Loki wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his body. He rest his head on top of yours. “You’ll never have to live in fear again as long as you’re mine. I’d give my life to protect you.” Then, there was peace.

Please consider supporting the starving artist/social worker if you’re able. :)

#loki imagines #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x y/n #marvel imagine #marvel #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #thor #tom hiddleston #marvel fanfiction #fan fic #fanfiction

63 notes · View notes

awhitehead17 · 4 years ago

Text

Everything’s Out Of Control

Chapter 5 / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“Only you could find the time to train while in another dimension Tim.” Kon comments fondly from his position on the couch. He’s currently eating a plate full of sandwiches which Alec had kindly made for him after Kon had finally woken up.

Instead of commenting, Tim shoots his friend an unimpressed look as he stretches out his muscles in preparation for the training session’s he’s about to have with Alec. The older man was currently rearranging the living room to create space for the two of them. Tim had offered to help move the furniture around but apparently this was a thing he did often and knew exactly where everything needed to go so he politely declined Tim’s offer.

Once a space had been created Alec disappeared from the room only to return minutes later carrying large floor mats.

As the man places them down Kon speaks up again. “Seriously Tim, after this we’re having a vacation. Even if it’s simply you coming to the farm for a weekend or something. You need to relax man.”

Tim finally turns his attention on Kon and crosses his arms over his chest, levelling a firm look at the Kryptonian. “I don’t need a vacation Kon. There’s too much to be done for me to take time away from Gotham.”

“That’s never stopped you before. Come on, not even for a couple days? Your family is perfectly capable of covering your areas.”

Tim shakes his head and looks away, suddenly feeling a dark sensation rolling over him. “That was before Kon… it’s not the same anymore.”

Before everyone died, you died, and I lost a part of myself to the darkness.

Kon looks guilty and doesn’t say anything else. Turning away from Tim he focuses on the sandwich in his hand and continues eating it. Tim sighs and turns back to the rest of the room which is now all set up. Tim’s eyes widen as he notices Alec staring at him with a frown, the older man’s hazel eyes darting between him and Kon clearly picking up on the sudden tension between them.

Tim lets out a sharp breath and steps onto the mats now on the ground, facing Alec confidently. A good fight should help clear his mind from those thoughts. “So how are we doing this?”

Alec steps up in front of him and regards him for a moment before speaking up. “Simple hand to hand at first, we can add weapons later on if you’d like to.”

Stretching his muscles on last time, Tim nods in agreement and puts himself into a defensive stance. He’s going into this spar completely blind of the man’s abilities so he needs to be ready for anything. Alec copies his motions and seconds later the two of them charge at one another.

It doesn’t take Tim very long to realise that the shadowhunter is holding back on him, probably in the mind set of not wanting to hurt him in anyway. Tim smirks to himself, how typical. He knows he’s not the biggest, toughest looking guy out there, especially in his family, but his smaller appearance always leads to the same impression, that he’s puny and weak.

He ducks under a flying fist and quickly twists around to drive an elbow into the man’s ribs. Tim is quick to manoeuvre around to sweep Alec’s legs out from underneath him. When the man hits the ground Tim instantly pins him down by wrapping his legs around the man’s neck in a lock and grabbing his arm and twisting it into an uncomfortable position where it would only take one movement to potentially dislocate his shoulder.

For a moment Alec seems to be frozen on the mat, genuinely surprised by the position he's found himself in. Knowing he's won this round Tim openly smirks as he untangles himself from the man. Once he's standing up Tim offers Alec a hand, “Now are we going to spar or keep playing games until we tire out?”

Alec takes his hand and stands up himself. He looks over Tim with a raised eyebrow, a disbelief smile stretching across his face. “Yeah okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s spar.”

They share a smirk and both get into defensive stances. As Tim eyes Alec, he hears Kon comment “This is going to be good…”

He doesn’t get the chance to retort because Alec is suddenly in his space and Tim is forced to jump backwards unless he wants to get smacked in the face by the man’s elbow.

Tim had been right when he thought that Alec had been holding back on him because he’s now fully going for it. Tim is being forced to jump, duck and dodge left right and centre to avoid being hit. It’s refreshing in a way Tim couldn’t describe. Alec’s build is similar to Jason’s as is his height, that’s something Tim is familiar with but all of his moves are different and unpredictable.

As the two of them spar, Tim gets lost in the movements of it all. Time passes by as they trade punches and kicks. Even after they knock the other down they simply get up and start again. Occasionally they would stop to teach a certain move the other didn’t recognise and how to block it, which would lead into another round.

They eventually added in some weapons and to Tim’s delight they choose staffs. Now he has to admit Alec had been beating him in the hand to hand, but with the staffs Tim certainly was excelling. After all, a bo staff is his weapon speciality.

He doesn’t know how long they spar for, but after a while Tim could feel the fatigue setting in. His muscles becoming stiffer each new round they start and his reactions begin to slow down. It’s been a long day after all and a lot has happened over the last 24 hours.

In the end he slips up, one delayed reaction allows Alec to swipe his legs out from underneath him and Tim crashes to the ground hard. Instead of getting up right away he lies there, panting and trying to get oxygen back into his body.

The man appears in his sight above him, looking down with slight concern. “You okay?”

Tim doesn’t have the energy to respond, he simply waves the shadowhunter’s concern away with a flick of his hand and stays lying there on the ground. He could feel sweat trailing down the side of his face, feeling how hot his skin is and the way his muscles are burning. Despite that, Tim’s wearing a small, satisfied smile on his face, having enjoyed the workout.

“I think that's a clear sign to let the boy rest Alexander, don’t you think?” A new voice speaks up sounding amused.

Tim looks around and finds another body on the couch next to Kon. Magnus sits there with his legs crossed, one hand propping his head up while the other holds a drink. Alec turns to his boyfriend and shrugs.

Next to Magnus Kon lets out a low whistle. “You guys have been at it for like nearly three hours. How the hell do you have that much energy?”

Neither of them respond to Kon as Alec bends down and helps Tim up to his feet. The man has to steady Tim when his knees almost buckle on him. Tim laughs lightly, “It’s been a while since I’ve sparred that hard.” He pulls away from Alec to stand on his own and offers his hand out for Alec to shake. “Good match.”

The shadowhunter looks confused for a moment but soon takes his hand and shakes it. “Quite the fighter yourself. Your skill with the staff is amazing.”

If his face wasn’t already flushed, Tim knew he would have blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I figured you were holding back that first round and you certainly proved me wrong.”

“Now if you two are done, how about returning my apartment back to a living space rather than a training room?” Magnus suggests pointedly looking between them as he takes a sip of his drink.

Even though Tim could see the smirk on Magnus’s lips as he drinks, Tim couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for taking up his space. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and steps off the mats. “Of course, sorry about that.”

Magnus places his glass down and elegantly stands up before walking over towards them. “Don’t be ridiculous Timothy. We had a lovely time watching you pair spar, didn’t we Conner?” The man turns to his friend who Tim only now realises had been staring at him the entire time. Getting called out by Magnus seems to shake him out of his thoughts and Tim sees him go red with embarrassment.

“Uh, yeah – I – uh – guess…” Kon stammers.

Tim couldn’t help but snicker at him. It’s not often Kon is speechless but when it does happen it’s a gem. Something warms up inside of him at seeing how embarrassed Kon suddenly looked at being called out so abruptly, it makes him wonder what he had been thinking about before it happened.

Magnus stops walking when he’s stood by Alec. “Now, Alexander, put everything back to how it was. Timothy, go take a shower dear, there are fresh clothes in your room.”

Alec makes a face at Magnus’s demand. “Can’t you just…” he trails off with a gesture of waving his hand around.

The warlock raises an eyebrow in an almost challenging sort of way. “You made the mess darling, you can clean it up.”

Tim holds back his laughter as the man rolls his eyes but starts cleaning up nonetheless. Tim makes a move to help but Magnus quickly shoos him away towards the bedroom, claiming he should shower then the four of them can think about going out for dinner since it’s getting late.

In the bedroom, Tim finds more clothes left out for him. There were two piles, one of which he assumes is his and the other must be for Kon. Magnus had said about getting dinner so Tim finds a pair of jeans and a simple shirt in the pile and heads for the bathroom.

When he returns from the bathroom the living room was back to how it was before. Tim finds Kon and Magnus chatting on the couch. His best friend looks somewhat tense and a little uncomfortable while the man next to him is sprawled on the couch, relaxed with a drink in his hand.

Kon seems to relax a little when he sees Tim settling down into the love seat adjacent to the couch. Having no idea what they were talking about Tim simply sits there quietly listening in on the conversation.

Once Alec joins them a little while later, after having a shower himself, the four of them head out into the streets of this world’s New York to find a restaurant to eat at. As he walks next to Kon, with the older men in front of them, Tim catches onto the conversation they were having.

“We shouldn’t be out here Magnus. What if something happens and they get caught in the middle of it? What if someone from the institute finds out?” Alec stresses, whispering harshly to his partner.

Magnus seems unperturbed by his concerns. “Relax Alexander, if something does happen then we can protect them. Also young boys like themselves shouldn’t be cooped up all day, they deserve some breathing room.”

That seems to be the winning argument because Alec falls silent after that. A nudge to his side gets his attention and he looks over at Kon who was watching him carefully. “Are you okay Tim? You seem quiet.”

Tim sends his friend a comforting smile. “I’m fine Kon, just thinking that’s all.”

Before Kon could respond the four of them come up to a restaurant that Magnus deems worthy of them eating at.

Dinner goes by with surprising ease. The food was incredible and pleasantly there had been next no awkwardness between the four of them like Tim had been somewhat expecting. Magnus kept up a stream of chatter right the way through, sharing stories from his past. The guy was apparently 400 years old, something that Tim had not been expecting, and had plenty comical memories to share.

While it had been nice and pleasant to do something different Tim couldn’t fully relax into the evening. He had caught Kon several times throughout the night subtly watching him, his friend’s face expressing things Tim couldn’t fully explain. At another point the older men had gone to the bar together and Tim watched them as they spoke quietly to each other, occasionally glancing back at he and Kon. It put him on edge knowing they were talking about them but not knowing in what context.

Other than that the night went by smoothly. After their meal they ended back in Magnus’s apartment where the warlock casually, despite their ages, offered them all cocktails. Alec declined, stating that he's needed at the institute as he’s got night patrol. Tim and Kon also both politely refuse, Tim stating that he's going to call it a night and Kon because he doesn’t wish to drink.

Their responses have Magnus rolling his eyes and calling them all boring. Soon enough Tim and Kon bid the men goodnight and head to their temporary bedroom.

Once they get there, Tim grabs some clothes from the pile on the desk and wordlessly heads for the bathroom to get changed. He’s stalling as much time as possible to be away from Kon. The two of them need to have a talk, things have been tense between them since the living room and Tim knows they need to clear the air before they can move on. It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.

He finishes up in the bathroom and heads back to the bedroom where he finds Kon sitting on the bed reading a book. While Tim had been out of the room, he had also changed into some night clothes.

Tim drops his dirty clothes into a pile on the floor, he’ll have to ask Magnus about washing in the morning, and awkwardly stands around trying to decide on how to start the conversation up.

Apparently Kon’s already thought about it because he’s snapping the book shut and sitting up straight to give Tim all of his attention. “We need to talk.”

Tim swallows, letting out a quiet “yeah, we do,” as he stays standing.

There’s a pregnant pause between them. After a while, clearly seeing that Tim wasn’t going to initiate the conversation, Kon surprises him by asking, “How are you Tim? Really. How are you feeling?”

The question makes Tim shoot Kon a look with raised eyebrows. “How am I feeling? It doesn’t matter. How are you feeling Kon? After all you’re the one that got ripped to shreds, been magically healed and asleep for most of the day, not me.”

Kon huffs in annoyance, clearly seeing Tim’s diversion of the conversation away from himself. Kon continues to surprise Tim though because his best friend lets it slide this time and actually answers Tim’s question instead.

“I’m alright. Mostly tired and could do with some sun if I’m being honest. But yeah I’m okay on the most part, obviously my Kryptonian genetics doing what they do best thankfully.” Kon smiles at the last part and shrugs nonchalantly. He shuffles up the bed and leans back against the headboard, still facing Tim. “I am, however, concerned about you. You’ve been tense the entire time, more secluded than usual. Talk to me man, what’s going on?”

Tim takes a deep breath to steady himself as he feels his emotions building up. In his mind he curses himself, he should be better than this, he should be able to control his emotions from getting the better than him.

Everything’s just been so unpredictable since they’ve arrived in this world and it’s left Tim feeling like he has absolutely no control over anything. The spar he had with Alec and then the dinner the four of them went out for gave him a break about thinking of the situation but the small distraction only does so much.

He had gotten annoyed at Kon earlier for bringing up him needing a vacation because his best friend knows how he feels about the subject. It’s a conversation they have repeatedly and by now it’s not even funny anymore. After everything he went through last year, the whole suicide mission of finding Bruce, Tim still feels like he has things to make up for. Kon knows this because Tim’s spoken to him about it. Of course things are better than what they had been but only by a margin.

He doesn’t know why this whole mission is getting him so worked up. Besides Kon getting injured, nearly dying, everything has been pretty easy, especially considering they found Magnus Bane right away. Why is Tim making it seem so difficult?

Feeling weight of Kon’s stare on him, Tim moves around the room until he’s leaning on the desk chair with his back to Kon. “I don’t know Kon…” he whispers defeatedly. This is his best friend, someone he should be able to simply open up to no matter what and knows he wouldn’t be judged.

Kon stays silent and Tim huffs, pushing himself away from the chair to start pacing the bedroom’s length. The sudden need to move is itching away at him as he tries to express his thoughts and feelings.

“It’s just - I don’t know… everything’s just…” unable to form words he simply makes a frantic gesture with his hands to explain what he’s on about. Tim sighs and runs a hand through his hair and starts again.

“Everything is just so out of control here. It’s so different. I mean, it’s not the first time we’ve entered an alternate reality, a different world or even a different dimension but for whatever reason this time I’m just… not handling it well.”

He feels vulnerable and Tim hates it. He's supposed to be a team leader, the one who takes control even in the most difficult of times, the one to remain level-headed when everything goes tits up. Zatanna had chosen him for this mission because of his ability to ‘get the task done as efficiently and smoothly as possible.’

What a load of bullshit that is.

“And that's okay, you know.” Kon comments quietly from his position on the bed after a while. “Tim you’re only human, you can only take so much. You can be thrown into the exact same situation countless of times and every single one of those times will have a different outcome no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been through dimension travel before, this is still a new world, there’s no way to be able to predict anything that’s going to happen.

No one is expecting you to be perfect. I’m certainly not. I just want you to be okay because I can see you beating yourself up about it. I didn’t mean anything by the vacation comment earlier, like I said I’m worried.”

Now Tim feels even more like crap. He didn’t mean to make Kon worry about him. His best friend is the one who’s been injured and nearly died, yet he’s there worrying about Tim’s mental health. He sighs, should he have expected any different? Kon is always caring about others before himself, it’s one of the traits Tim loves about him, his selflessness.

Kon seems to know what he was thinking because the half Kryptonian is now sending him a disapproving look, “Hey, no. Don’t go feeling guilty, I’m fine, physically and mentally fine. They patched me up good, once I’ve seen some sun I’m good as new.”

Tim shrugs, unable to help the way he feels. Getting up from the bed, Kon walks over to him and just like earlier that day, Tim finds himself wrapped up in a warm, comforting hug. He closes his eyes and basks in the comfort, the content feeling continues even after Kon rests his head on top of Tim’s.

“Hopefully tomorrow Magnus will get everything we need and find a way to send us back home. Back to our world where we can deal with our own demons and creatures.”

His comment does the trick of pulling a smile out from Tim. He hopes that will be the case tomorrow.

When it feels like Tim has control of his emotions and thoughts again he reluctantly pulls away from Kon. His best friend lets him go easily but places a hand on his shoulder, Tim finds the weight of it grounding. “You good?”

Tim shrugs, “Okay as can be I guess. Thanks Kon, sorry for being a mess.”

With his other hand Kon reaches up and cups Tim’s cheek, his thumb brushing across his skin softly. “I’m here for you okay. Sometimes you seem to forget that. I can’t change the past and I’m sorry I wasn't there for your darkest time Tim but I’m here now and will support you every step if the way.”

And doesn’t that comment make Tim’s brain short circuit, his heart pound inside his chest and his legs weak. Why is this guy so perfect?

Tim stares at Kon, taking in how close they were. His face centimetres from his, his hand warm and solid on his cheek, his blue eyes seeming to be so piercing and intense as they stare into Tim’s own, his plush lips against tanned skin and a defining jaw line that could make anyone jealous. His best friend was gorgeous. And that was without knowing what a kind, gentle, caring soul he is.

Tim wants to kiss him.

A small movement grabs his attention, it was nothing more than a slight jerk towards Kon’s face, but it was enough to break his thoughts. Tim feels himself blush and he pulls out of Kon’s hold.

“We – uh, we should um, get to bed. It’s late and it’s been a long day.” Tim stammers his words as he heads towards the bed. Wordlessly he climbs underneath the covers and buries his face into the pillow he’s using in a poor attempt to hide his embarrassment.

There's a long pause until he hears Kon walking around the room, moments later the lights turn off and then there’s a weight settling bedside him on the bed as Kon climbs onto the mattress. His best friends takes a moment to settle but then everything goes still.

Tim desperately tries to ignore everything that had just happened. The somewhat emotional talk, the vulnerability he had been feeling and then the way it felt to be pressed against Kon’s form and then finally the way he wanted to kiss him. It really doesn’t help that Kon is right there next to him. How the hell is he supposed to go to sleep after all of that?

Tim sighs and buries his face impossibly further into the pillow. This is going to be a long night.

#Everything's Out Of Control #Tim Drake #Kon-El #timkon #alec lightwood #magnus bane #malec #sparring #emotional conversations #supportive kon #friendship #fanfiction #bit angsty #fluff #hurt and comfort

9 notes · View notes

mymidsummersunshine · 4 years ago

Text

Ok look I know this is probably the zillionth time I have written basically this exact plot but hear me out: soft

—

It’s late on a summer night, the sun has already set, but there’s still a faint glow of light in the West. Matt and Anders had gone or for ice cream earlier to try and beat the heat, and when they had gotten home, they had put on the Red Sox game to watch before bed. It’s a tight game, tied going into the bottom of the ninth.

Anders looks over and sees Matt curled up on the other end of the couch. His eyes are open, for now, but he suspects it won’t take much longer for him to fall asleep.

“You gonna make it to the end of the game?” he teases. Matt turns his head slightly to look at him, then rolls his eyes.

“Of course I am. I’m wide awake.”

“I’m just saying, it’s already pretty late.”

“No, really, I’ve got it this time. I’m gonna watch us win,” he insists.

Anders resists a chuckle. “If you say so.”

The ninth inning becomes the tenth, then the eleventh, then the twelfth. Anders takes a look over at Matt every so often, and he can see his eyes growing heavier and heavier, staying closed for longer intervals. He comments out loud on the game to keep Matt awake, finding amusement in the way his eyes will snap open. More than once he offers for Matt to move over and cuddle with him, and more than once Matt declines and says he’s comfortable enough right where he is. Anders doesn’t take offense; he wouldn’t want to move, either, if the roles were reversed.

In the top of the thirteenth, Bradley, Jr. makes a diving catch to end the inning.

“Oh, man, what a catch!” Anders says, leaning over to high five Matt, but Matt doesn’t react, or move at all. His eyes are shut, so either Anders was right and he wasn’t gonna make it through the game, or he’s very good at pretending. He suspects it’s the first. Either way, Anders smiles and rolls his eyes, grabbing the throw blanket from the top of the couch and draping it over him. He smiles wider when Matt subconsciously reaches for it to pull it tighter around himself.

“I knew you wouldn’t make it,” he whispers fondly.

The Sox do pull it off in the bottom of the fourteenth, with a double from Vázquez to drive in Martinez. Anders switches the TV off and looks over at Matt again. He’s still sound asleep, holding the corner of the blanket in his fist and breathing slowly. Anders shakes his head, smiling softly, then goes through his normal nighttime routine before circling back to the living room. He doesn’t want to just leave him there, but he doesn’t want to wake him up if he doesn’t have to, either.

“How do I do this...?” he mumbles to himself as he kneels down next to the couch. Matt is curled up in a ball, so it makes it a little more difficult to get his arm under his knees, but he manages. Once he’s sure he’s not going to drop him, he stands up and carries him into the bedroom, making sure not to run into the doorframe or any of their furniture in the process. He sets him down on the bed, running his fingers through his hair before going back to turn out the light, then he returns to his own side of the bed and gets under the blanket. Matt stirs when he lays down and opens his eyes, looking somewhat confused by his new surroundings. Anders smiles back at him.

“I told you you wouldn’t make it through the whole game,” Anders whispers.

Matt pouts. “Yes I did. I remember the whole thing.”

“Oh really? Who won?”

“We did.”

“Alright, fair, but that’s a 50-50 shot. Who got the last hit?”

Matt pauses, and Anders grins in amusement. “Holt?” he guesses eventually.

“Holt’s in Milwaukee now, love.”

“Shit.”

Anders laughs out loud, and Matt pulls the blanket above his head in embarrassment. “Shut up!” he protests.

Anders reaches over to rub his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says. “I know you’re not a night person. It’s a miracle when you manage to stay up to kiss me at midnight on New Years.”

“I’ve done that every year so far,” Matt mumbles, but he does pull the blanket down to look Anders in the eye.

“I know you have.”

Matt yawns, and Anders runs his hand down his arm until he finds his hand to squeeze it.

“Goodnight, love,” he whispers.

“G’night. I love you. And, thank you. For bringing me in here.”

“Of course, any time. I love you, too.”

#my fic #grzork #soft grzork is everything #this is also making me feel better about the irl red sox lmao #the holt part pained me to write i’m sorry

11 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 5 years ago

Text

Greatest Fears

TITLE: Greatest Fears CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 of 3 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s wife suffering a terrible nightmare and him soothing her after it. RATING: T? Probably? I mean, if you got this far, you should be fine. NOTES/WARNINGS: This is an older fic. I meant to post it here when this imagine popped up, and then completely forgot to because I am great at planning. Since I’m going through my files trying to rekindle the muse, I figured I might as well post it now, y'know? XD

I… forgot to submit this chapter. I have failed this city.

__________________

After the initial shock and bemusement over the news that she now had a personal slave in Amora had waned; Samantha had smacked Loki upside the head for being so rash, kissed him for his intent to defend her, and then punched Amora hard enough to knock her to the floor for messing with her head. Loki was surprised at that last one, as she had never been one very prone to physical violence; he inwardly decided that Amora’s torment would be even worse now for rattling his wife that much.

“I really must say, Sam; rage is a… surprisingly good look on you…” Loki practically purred; wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and drawing her earlobe between his teeth, tugging it slightly, before kissing his way down to her neck, “Perhaps we could put it to more… productive use…”

His intentions were two-fold: He did want to calm her; as long as he’d known her she had been very self-conscious about her superhuman strength, and he knew that she would feel terrible about herself later if he let her lash out like that again. But there was also a part of him that wanted to flaunt his very healthy marriage in front of Amora, to further drive home her failure.

Samantha pulled away from him slightly. “This is hardly the time,” she replied and looked pointedly towards Amora, who was watching them with a mixture of anger and disgust as she got back to her feet.

Loki scoffed. “You didn’t seem to mind when I took you in that very public park in Midgard last year.”

“That was different,” Samantha said quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Nobody saw that.”

“Or maybe you were just too preoccupied to notice,” Loki teased.

“By the Norns; you are depraved,” Amora spat, looking very much like she might throw up.

Loki laughed darkly. “You don’t know the half of it.” He grinned menacingly. “Yet…”

“Out,” Samantha ordered, nodding her head to the doors.

“Yes, mistress,” Amora said through gritted teeth before she turned and walked away into the next room.

When she was gone Samantha turned around, looked up at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “Really?”

“She started it,” Loki replied with a shrug, causing her to roll her eyes. He looked at her intently and licked his bottom lip. “I was serious with my suggestion, you know.”

Samantha opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted her by lunging at her suddenly and kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath away. She didn’t need much convincing after that as Loki pulled her over to their bed; and while Amora was spared from having to watch, the closed doors did very little to muffle the sounds of their passion, much to her dismay and Loki’s secret amusement.

***

��Once Loki had had his temporary fill of Samantha, he told her about the last thing Odin had said to him. She had been a bit surprised; in the time she had known the Allfather, he had only rarely shown his adopted son any overt regard, let alone affection. She was careful to stoke the little ember of happiness the praise had given him and told him to remember the words well, not wanting to let the king’s actual good advice go to waste; she then left the Enchantress at the mercy of her husband after making him promise he wouldn’t take it too far (she didn’t think he would, but it didn’t hurt to make sure) and went off to find her father-in-law, intending to discuss matters further. She found the king speaking to one of his generals, and waited until they were finished to approach.

When Odin turned and acknowledged her, she commented, “You know; Loki is convinced he is losing what little sanity he still had left.”

Odin huffed a slight laugh then gestured for her to follow him to a nearby bench; once they were seated he said, “My late wife spent most of his life telling me that I was too hard on him; that I did not treat him as well as Thor.” He paused for a moment. “It has taken me far too long to realise just what she meant by that.”

“He has a sensitive heart,” Samantha said thoughtfully, “Which by no means makes him weak; he just… feels things more intensely.” She gave a slight laugh. “Combine that with an overactive and curious mind, a quiet disposition and a penchant for mischief; and I can’t imagine he was very easy to deal with.”

“Ah, but I should have made more of an effort to understand him,” Odin replied, and she only barely held back the urge to agree aloud. He was thoughtful for a moment then said, “I have made mistakes where both of my sons are concerned, but at least I can take pride in the men they have become.” He placed a hand over Samantha’s on her lap. “I have you to thank for bringing Loki out from the depths of madness and rage he spiralled into. I myself would never have reached him; I was at a loss as to how.”

Samantha smiled. “No one should have to feel that tormented.”

Odin returned the smile and said fondly, “You remind me of her so.”

“And I will always be honoured to hear that,” Samantha replied, knowing well to whom he was referring, “I wish I could have me her.”

“She would have adored you.” He was silent for another moment then said, “You are a fine young woman, Samantha. I confess at first I did not expect it to be so; my impression was that you would be as dark of mind and heart as Loki, for who else would love him as he was. Instead I was faced with a soul full of gentleness, quiet strength and compassion; and a son I never thought I would see again.” He patted her hands with a surprisingly fatherly affection. “You have my eternal gratitude for helping to make my family as whole as it can ever be again.”

***

By the end of Amora’s sentence she was thoroughly miserable. Loki humiliated her with the most menial of tasks (his favourites being having her change the bedsheets and assist him in his baths, which she loathed the most), and Samantha had her almost constantly running around on errands, though hers where a little less embarrassing for the Enchantress. Normally the former mortal would’ve balked at the idea of taking advantage of a situation like that, but she had been very upset over the nightmare and she figured maybe Amora would leave her alone after that.

Amora walked up to Samantha, who was lounging on a couch in the sitting room of hers and Loki’s hall with a book in one hand and a cup of wine in the other, and placed a small stack of books on a nearby table before turning to the other woman. “Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?”

Samantha lifted her now-empty cup, wordlessly indicating she wanted a refill, without so much as a glance in the Enchantress’ direction. Amora swallowed her pride and anger, going over to another table and grabbing a jug of wine before going back and filling Samantha’s cup. The dark-skinned woman didn’t bother to acknowledge the action beyond taking a small sip of her drink and Amora bit back the urge to say or do anything she knew she would come to regret, resigning herself to simply standing there until Samantha told her otherwise.

Though she would never admit it aloud, Amora greatly preferred Loki’s wife to the man himself; aside from the often exhausting amount of running around to fetch things she had her do, Samantha mostly ignored her altogether. Loki was not nearly as merciful; often toying with her by giving her conflicting instructions then berating her as though she were an idiot when she got things wrong, as well as taking pretty much every chance he could to humiliate her in public, especially when her sister or Thor were around. The worst part of it was that Loki wasn’t actually hurting her; she hadn’t expected to survive the month after Loki’s reaction to her spell, but instead she was subjected to verbal torment and embarrassment and nothing more.

Loki walked into the room somewhat tiredly - wanting nothing more than a long bath and a nap with his wife cradled in his arms - and raised an eyebrow when he saw Amora standing in front of his wife, evidently awaiting a command. “You; with me,” he snapped.

“Yes, master,” Amora bit out, trying not to stumble over the title, as she followed him into the bedchamber then the bathchamber beyond.

Oh, how she hated calling him that. Which she knew was exactly why he insisted on it.

As Amora helped Loki strip out of his armour, Samantha leaned against the doorway. “I really hope you’ve learned your lesson here, Amora.”

“And what lesson would that be, mistress?” Amora asked; hating her current task even more now there was someone to witness it.

In a flash Loki had grasped her chin then none-too-gently turned her face towards his. “Never try to come between Sam and me again.” He released her and waved her off. “Your services are no longer required.”

As Amora walked out of the room Samantha walked past her into it to take her place, intending to join her husband after a week of not seeing him. After a while the Enchantress heard a bit of splashing coming from the room as well the distinct sound of moans, and decided that, yes; she had definitely learned her lesson.

#Loki #Lover #God of Mischief #Others #Submitted fic #submission #greatest fears #chapter 3 #malicemanaged

29 notes · View notes

simplywylan · 6 years ago

Note

10 misc

Haha, cute!! I’m going to take this opportunity to write something out of canon, so think of this as an alternative AU about Levi and Nico meeting because I think this could be a hella cute situation.

So yeah. This is an AU because I really wanted to write something AU related today!!

MISC - 10: “So, uh, I locked the keys in the car.”

“Of course this would happen to me,” Levi mumbled to himself, hands pressed up against the car window as he stared at the keys mocking him from inside. This wasn’t the first time it had happened either.

With a sigh of defeat, Levi turned and slumped down against the side of his car, eventually sitting himself on the floor. It was freezing outside, the sky thick with clouds and the air was bitter as it whipped around. It was sure to begin raining soon and here Levi was, trapped outside his car because he’d locked his keys inside the car once again.

Sometimes, he swore the world was against him. Not only had he locked his keys in the car, his phone was dead, meaning he couldn’t call anyone to help get them out. He was well and truly stuck right now.

His day just really couldn’t get any better, could it?

Well, that is what he thought, at least. He was absolutely humiliated to be sitting outside his car like the helpless person he was. What made it worse is when a (very attractive) stranger just happened to be walking by, spotting Levi sat by his car, moping.

The stranger jogged over to Levi, wondering if he could be of any help.

“Are you okay?”

Levi snapped his head up, being greeted with the worried look of the stranger stood in front of him. Levi opened his mouth as if to say something, left completely speechless by this extremely handsome guy currently stood in front of him.

“I- Uh, yeah,” Levi scrambled up from where he was sat on the concrete, dusting himself off as he stood. The stranger smiled at him and damn, Levi felt himself swooning. He glanced behind him, suddenly remembering why he’d been sat on the floor in the first place. Damn it. “Urgh, no.”

The stranger stepped beside Levi, taking a glance through the car window. Levi shuffled to the side a little, clearing his throat awkwardly as the guy looked inside his car.

“Locked your keys in?”

“Yup.”

“I’d love to hear the story behind that.”

Levi swore he almost scowled at the guy, but regardless, he knew he’d have to tell the story of how he managed to lock his keys in the car, again. He sighed, rested his hip against the car, arms folded over his chest.

“You know, sometimes I just get bored and think it’s fun to ask random strangers for help, especially when the weather is about to take a turn for the worst” Levi paused, glancing up at the stranger, who had an amused looked about him. “So, uh, I locked the keys in the car.”

“Really now? This a hobby of yours?” The stranger’s said in a playful manner, brow raised at Levi. He turned to fully face Levi now, his eyes scanning him up and down. It made Levi feel slightly uncomfortable, yet at the same time, he didn’t quite mind it.

As much as Levi was enjoying staring at this stranger, he needed to get back into his car. Small droplets of water had started appearing on the car, alerting Levi that it was about to rain, and alerting him that he was still stuck outside of his car because he couldn’t take an extra two seconds to think things through.

The stranger held his hand out towards Levi, his other arm folded over his chest. “I’m Nico, by the way.”

“Levi,” He replied, cautiously reaching out his hand to shake Nico’s. Maybe their hands lingered together a little longer than they should have.

“I can help you get into your car,” Nico tapped his knuckle against the car window, a smug grin playing at his lips. “If you want.”

“Please,” Levi let out a sigh of relief at Nico’s offer of help. The rain was starting to pick up and it was cold, too, which only made him more desperate to get into his vehicle.

Nico couldn’t help but smile at Levi, glad that he’d come over to help him. He was definitely going to be late for work after this, but for Levi? Yeah, he didn’t mind.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me get back into my car.” Levi secretly believed Nico was an angel sent from heaven to come and save him from his stupidity. He held the keys in his hands, ever so relieved to finally be able to go home.

Nico chuckled to himself, wiping the rain droplets from his face. It’d taken a little longer than he expected but he managed to get in regardless. It definitely hadn’t been ideal that the rain started to relentlessly pour down on top of them as they tried to break into Levi’s car, as they were now both completely soaked from head to toe. Nico knew he couldn’t go to work like this.

“You looked like you needed help,” Nico commented, earning an embarrassed laugh from Levi. “Plus, why would I miss an opportunity to help someone as cute as you?”

The flirtatious comment caught Levi off-guard, causing him to quite literally drop his keys. A proud smirk tugged at Nico’s lips as he watched Levi rush to pick them up, stumbling over his words as he tried to reply to Nico.

The rain was still pouring down around them, yet neither of them had the common sense to find shelter, or find an umbrella, or something that would stop them from possibly catching hypothermia. Nico wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he secretly found it rather endearing that Levi was so worked up over one comment.

“I, uh, thank you?” It came out of more of a question than Levi had ever intended, as he had never really been one to be complimented before. Especially not by someone like Nico, who was still a complete stranger to him.

Nico was extremely captivated by the oddity that was Levi.

“Look,” Nico pushed his soaked hair back from his face, holding his hands above his eyes so the rain wouldn’t get in them. “I have to go, I have to get back home and change because I’m extremely late to work.”

“Oh,” Levi’s tone was disappointed. He let out a sharp sigh as he lowered his head, fiddling with the keys in his grip. “I’m sorry I held you up.”

Nico shook his head at Levi, grinning fondly at him. It made Levi’s stomach twist; now he knew what people meant when they spoke of having butterflies in their stomach.

“I want to see you again, Levi.”

Levi looked up at Nico, looking completely and utterly baffled at his confession. Then, his expression melted into a bright smile as he nodded, knowing he’d want to see Nico again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’d like that. Um,” Levi looked around, tapping his hands over his pockets when he realized, letting out a frustrated sigh. “My phone’s dead, you’ll have to take my number and just trust that it’s mine.”

Nico couldn’t help but chuckle at Levi’s small moment of frustration. He looked completely defeated when he realized his phone had died and Nico couldn’t quite believe how adorable he looked.

Thankfully, the rain had slowed into more of a drizzle than a downpour, though it didn’t really matter now, considering they were both drenched. Nico reached into the pocket of his jacket, silently thanking himself for buying a jacket that was somewhat waterproof, bringing out his phone. He unlocked it and handed it over to Levi, letting him type in his number.

“When are you next free?” Nico asked, jumping straight to the point.

“Tomorrow.” There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation when Levi answered, a sudden rush of confidence washing over him. Wow, he liked this. It felt great. He handed Nico’s phone back to him.

“Okay,” Nico looked at the number, before typing a quick message to Levi, ready for him to read later. A sly smirk was slapped across his face as he wrote it, Levi raising a brow in question as he wondered what Nico was up to. “How about tomorrow, then? We could meet up, get some coffee, get to know each other a little?”

Levi nodded, folding his arms over his chest as he shifted his weight on his feet. “Sounds like a date.”

Saying that out loud almost didn’t seem real.

Levi’s day had started off so rubbish, so crap that he could barely believe it was happening. Now, here he was, completely soaked, down to the bone, arranging a date with the stranger who- metaphorically- saved his ass.

Maybe he should lock his keys in the car more often?

#i kinda love this ngl #simple but cute #i think #schmico #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #levi schmitt #nico kim #levi x nico #levi schmitt x nico kim #drabble #prompt #schmico drabble #schmoody writes

49 notes · View notes

language-of-love · 5 years ago

Text

burning one hell of a something...

Summary: Bad ventilation, burnt steak and an obnoxious fire alarm, all the ingredients needed for Patrick to meet David and spark a very different kind of flame. (AO3)

(this is pure flirty fluff with AU and canon interspersed, spread over 6 short chapters that I’ll be posting over consecutive days. thanks to @jessx2231 for her beta help!)

Chapter 1 : the spark...

For the second time in three days, he’s standing outside of his apartment building waiting for the fire department to give the all clear. This time at least it’s not 11:30 at night, but a more respectable 7:13 pm and he’s still in his work clothes and not pajama pants and t-shirt. Tuesday’s fire alarm situation had been a cold one. The small collection of his neighbors are scattered around the sidewalk, all wearing the same look of annoyance and impatience. All except one. He’d spied this guy before at their mailboxes a few times, his striking hairstyle and black and white wardrobe designed to not be missed. And sure, Patrick had also cataloged his attractive face and great ass, but those details have been placed in a box in Patrick’s brain he’s currently labeled as “confusing thoughts” that just isn’t being dealt with.

He does peek in that box a little more every day, though. And maybe things really aren’t as confusing as he’s making them out to be.

But back to his intriguing neighbor. The one currently trying to hide behind the wide tree at the end of the sidewalk and the one with a black oven mitt still covering his right hand. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this man is the one responsible for this evening’s excursion. Curiosity has him walking the few steps to the tree, leaning casually against the trunk on the other side from where his neighbor is currently cowering.

“Kitchen mishap, I presume?”

“Huh? What?” The man’s voice is high pitched and melodic, obviously startled, and perhaps a bit defensive. Patrick leans to the left, catching his neighbor’s eye so he can give him a friendly smile. God, he’s even more attractive up close, with those smoldering brown eyes and deep set dimples.

“The oven mitt,” he says as he points down at the man’s hand, watching as he looks down at it and lets out a dramatic sigh. The man’s face goes on a lengthy journey with multiple detours and pit stops and Patrick’s smile widens, watching him as if he’s an addictive TV show he just can’t stop binging.

“Ugh. Okay, yes. I may have set off the fire alarm, but I insist that it is not my fault, but the poor standards of ventilation in this run down hellhole I’m destined to die in.”

Patrick can’t stop himself from laughing at that and pushes himself off the tree, turning fully towards his neighbor so he can finally, hopefully, put a name to this very interesting face.

“Well, before that happens, I should introduce myself. I’m Patrick,” he says as he extends his hand.

“David,” the man replies, forgetting about the oven mitt as he reaches his hand out as well, and Patrick grabs it before he can pull his hand back.

“Nice to meet you, David.” Patrick’s smile is taking over his entire face, he can feel it, but David is smiling now, too, as Patrick shakes his oven mitt covered hand as if there’s absolutely nothing strange about that at all.

When David pulls his hand back the oven mitt comes off in Patrick’s grip and they both laugh and Patrick puts another thought into that little box. He thinks that he wants to do whatever it takes to make David laugh again, as often as possible.

“You should keep that, I really can’t be trusted with it.” David’s hands are now perched on the very expensive looking black sweater just falling over his narrow hips.

“So, this wasn’t your first kitchen nightmare?”

David’s nose scrunches up and he looks down at his black and white chucks. “Uh, no. I guess you missed Tuesday’s alarm, then?”

Patrick’s eyes widen and he clutches the oven mitt to his chest. “That was you, too?”

“There was cheese. And folding, which somehow had to do with the cheese…” David’s voice has risen a full octave as his hands begin gesticulating towards their building, “...and then there was burning, lots of burning.”

Patrick hasn’t been this amused in ages and he leans back against the tree again, just taking David in as he continues to talk about cheese. He’s like no one Patrick has ever met. And Patrick never wants this conversation to end.

“Okay, so I take it you’re rather new to using a kitchen?” he ventures, treading lightly so as not to make David feel stupid or more embarrassed than he already obviously does.

“I’ll have you know that kitchens are usually my favorite room in a house, but technically, yes, outside of opening and closing a refrigerator, I’m a bit of a novice.”

The self confidence dripping from that statement is a thing to behold. It isn’t often you hear someone admit to a deficiency so openly.

“So, why the sudden interest in attempting to cook?” Patrick questions, wanting to keep this conversation going to get to know as much about David as he’s willing to share.

David’s eyes close briefly and Patrick finds himself staring at how long his eyelashes are as they push into his cheekbones. What an odd thing to notice…

“That’s a very long story, one maybe for another time…” David trails off, his voice somewhat wistful as he looks past Patrick to where the firefighters are now exiting their building.

Sensing a moment, one that is quickly passing, Patrick pushes off the tree again and takes a quick step towards David.

“I’d be happy to cover the bases with you, if you want?” As soon as the offer is out there, he realizes just how nervous he is for the answer.

“I don’t know what that means, I don’t play cricket.”

And that, is not what he was expecting. Smiling fondly at David, he feels his cheeks heat a bit as he tries to be a bit more direct. “I’m a pretty good cook and I’d be happy to teach you a few basics, if you’re interested.”

David’s eyebrows shoot up and Patrick braces himself for rejection.

“Uh, I think I’m good, but thank you,” David says, “I’ll try not to burn the place down next time.”

The disappointment Patrick feels is palpable, but he does his best to not let it show, keeping a smile plastered on his face as they both turn and begin to walk back towards the now cleared building.

“If you change your mind, I’m in 1C,” he says with as much nonchalance he can muster, holding the door open for David as they reach the entrance. Patrick doesn’t have to go upstairs, but he lingers hoping to get some sort of response from David that can be deemed as promising.

“Uh, thanks.” is all David says, his mind seemingly already somewhere else as he begins to climb the stairs to his apartment.

“Nice to meet you, David,” Patrick can’t seem to stop himself from speaking now and he quickly turns towards his door, which thankfully is right there and a quick means of escape. He swears he hears David say something in return, but he can’t make it out over the loud pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.

His first attempt at flirting with a guy has not gone well. Not at all.

But then he looks down and realizes he’s still holding David’s oven mitt. And hope springs anew that he might just have a second chance at it.

#david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #schitts creek #my sc fic #burning one hell of a something #flirty fluff

26 notes · View notes

kivaember · 6 years ago

Text

(This fic sorta reflects my current state of being l o l honestly, burn out is the worst fucking thing to endure and i am s u f f e r i n g from it so much. So I vented with this, and kinda explored a few of Aymeric’s other relationships.

Also for the fishing bit, Aza and his FC were pretty much doing this)

As always, Aymeric woke up at the crack of dawn.

It was to an empty bed, so he thankfully didn’t have to go through the torturous ordeal of untangling himself from Aza’s arms and slipping out without him waking up (impossible). He did so love his partner, but some days he he just wanted get to work on time without having to rush because Aza decided to imitate a rather clingy, amorous limpet.

The sun was just peeking over the twisting spires of the Holy See when Aymeric emerged from his home, dressed, fed and waiting for his coffee to kick in. His feet took him along the well worn path towards the Congregation of the Knights Most Heavenly (he needed to find a way to shorten that into something that didn’t sound so… cultish), the air almost pleasantly mild. It was ‘summer’ for Ishgard now, and that brought with it weak sunshine, gentle breezes and rain. It boded well for a possible thawing of the permafrost that clung to this land, though he doubted they would be able to reproduce their previous agricultural output for another few years yet.

The foot traffic was light this early in the morning, so Aymeric was utterly alone as he descended the steps from the Pillars to the lower levels of Ishgard. It meant he could break decorum a little and stifle a yawn behind his hand, feeling ragged to the bone. Gods, he always felt so exhausted when Aza wasn’t here. As distracting as his partner could be, he certainly slept easier when they-

-something abruptly jabbed him hard in his kidneys.

“Fuck-” he blurted in utter surprise, his foot slipping on the step and almost sending him on an embarrassing tumble, if not for the strong hand gripping his bicep. His lower back throbbed from the very painful jab he just took, and, face slightly red from embarrassment, regained his footing and turned to see-

“That’s another stabbin’ you coulda hand,” the ‘Mongrel’ smiled at him, all teeth, “C’mon, Lord Commander. I’ve told ya before about this route. Ambush points everywhere.”

Aymeric’s shoulders slumped, and Hilda kindly released his arm to give him a short pat on the shoulder, somehow making the gesture of reaching up not look too ridiculous.

“Lady Ware,” he sighed wearily.

“Hilda. I ain’t a lady.”

“Lady Ware,” Aymeric repeated, just to be contrary and because he got some vindication at watching her wrinkle her nose in disgust at him, “Thank you for scaring another five months off my lifespan. How many deaths is that now?”

“Two hundred an’ fifty somethin’ or other,” Hilda said, and jabbed him in the ribs again before he could move away, “Yer self-awareness is shite. It’s a miracle you ain’t been stabbed again, what with all them lords sharpening their daggers every time your back’s turned.”

“It probably has to do with the fact that you loiter in the dark corners they’d normally try to stab me from,” Aymeric said, his voice dry as dust, “The key to a successful assassination is not to do it with witnesses, you see.”

“Smarmy bastard,” Hilda said fondly, “Still, I can’t loiter in all the dark corners. I got a life outside of looking at your arse all day.”

“Duly noted,” Aymeric sighed, and inclined his head, “Walking the same way?”

“Yup,” Hilda said with a cocksure smile, boldly moving in step with him as they continued their way.

It was a queer friendship, he knew, if it could even be called friendship. It wasn’t a conventional relationship in the slightest, an alliance of necessity to smooth over any snarls and tangled between the Temple Knights and the newly established City Watch. Several knights, and lords, were somewhat disgruntled at these lowborn peasants suddenly having the power to enforce the law. Whilst the City Watch tended mostly to petty crime, freeing the Knights for more high-profile and sensitive cases, it was still a scrap of power long denied to those at the very bottom. Friction was inevitable.

Yet, during the beginning years of their wary and necessary alliance, a strange camaraderie started to form between them. Hilda jokingly said it was because he was now part of the ‘Orphaned Bastards Club’, but Aymeric felt it was more because they both believed the same things… and they really enjoyed thumbing their noses at the stuffier lords sitting pretty in Ishgard’s fledging republic. There were stark differences between them, though. Aymeric’s position was always privileged, member of the Orphaned Bastards Club or not, whilst Hilda scrambled at the bottom of society since birth. Friction there was inevitable too.

But they made it work.

Yes, they were both stubborn and passionate and clashed – often – but Hilda had proven herself to be a valuable ally, instead of the dangerous enemy she could have been. She worked with him to ensure a level balance between the Knights and the City Watch, she was blunt and honest enough not to hold back to correct him on his assumptions on what the lower class needed, and, more importantly, she was loyal to a fault.

He could do without the mock-assassinations whenever he went to and from work though. At this point he had a feeling she was doing it more to mess with him, rather than increasing his chances of surviving another assassination attempt.

“I see Lover boy’s outta town,” Hilda said casually, “What’s he up to this time? Savin’ another damn country?”

“He’s gone fishing with some adventurer friends,” Aymeric said.

The look Hilda gave him was worth the early morning scare, honestly. The disbelief, the slight suspicion that he was pulling her leg, writ across her face was deeply amusing, “Fishin’.”

“Mm, that is what I said,” he said with mock-innocence, “Something the matter?”

“He doesn’t seem like the type to fish,” Hilda said dubiously, “Requires a bit of patience, don’t it?”

“If there’s a promise of food at the end of it, you’ll find him surprisingly patient,” Aymeric said, “Also he fishes with Imperial grenades.”

Hilda let out a sigh that almost eased into a laugh, “’Course he does.”

The rest of the walk to the Congregation was pleasant in Hilda’s company. She told him a little of what the City Watch had been doing, what assistance they could do with, and in turn Aymeric told her about the new bills being proposed regarding a government funding project to properly equip the City Watch. Hilda had taken that last thing with a wry twist to her lips, just as aware as him that that bill would be bounced around in the House of Lords for as long as their constitution allowed.

“Best leave ya here,” Hilda said briskly as they stopped at the Congregation, “When ya see Aza, tell ‘im to swing by the Forgotten Knight sometime. Haven’t had a drink with him in a while.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” Aymeric promised.

Hilda clapped him on the arm, her fingers trailing along his forearm and pressing a crumpled piece of paper – discreetly – into his hand. With a two-fingered salute, the Mongrel prowled off in that confident strut of hers, disappearing into the early morning crowd that had started to stir.

Aymeric closed his fist around the paper slowly and turned away, tucking it casually into his breeches’ pocket. Another perk to his friendship-alliance with the Mongrel was information that would otherwise be denied to a Lord Commander part of the ‘class system’ all the commoners hated. What people wouldn’t admit or say to the knights, they admitted to the City Watch. But, whilst the City Watch’s powers were limited, Aymeric had more clout and influence. It was always a balancing act to work out on what he could action, but it made his life so much easier.

Honestly, it would have been a harder ordeal rooting out corruption, if it weren’t for her.

“Sir. Sir.”

“M’awake,” Aymeric mumbled into his desk, not lifting his head even when Lucia sighed somewhere above him.

“Lord Artoirel is here to see you,” she said firmly, “To discuss the Adventurer’s Guild Proposal. Remember?”

Aymeric made a noise better suited to some deep-sea creature being pulled out of a loch somewhere. The fucking Adventurer’s Guild Proposal. The bane of his political existence and the thorn in the House of Lord’s side. The last debate on it had descended into petty stonewalling, where no one had come out smelling pretty.

(Aymeric himself hadn’t come out of that debate well. In a flash of white-hot, temporary madness brought on by sheer frustration at the inefficiency their government was stagnating in, he had ended the ridiculous shouting match by flipping the Speaker’s desk and verbally flaying everyone present. It was the first time he ever heard the House of Lords stunned into terrified silence. It was then that Artoirel had, warily, suggested that perhaps they should all take a break and cool their heads a little while someone replaced the Speaker’s desk.)

“Should I take that as you cancelling the meeting?” Lucia asked him flatly.

“I’ll take it,” Aymeric said wearily, propping himself up and massaging his temples. A low-grade headache was beginning to throb insistently behind his eyes. He was so sick of reading things now. He should have ran away with Aza to throw Imperial grenades into a lake somewhere.

Lucia didn’t move, giving him a long searching look.

“Sir,” she ventured carefully, “When was the last time you took a break?”

Considering Lucia helped to micromanage his stuffed to the gills schedule, she should know exactly when he took a break. Better than he, anyways, where the days just blurred together in some nightmarish ordeal of holding a fledging republic together by his fingertips. Whilst it was more stable than it had been initially, somehow that meant more work bubbling up as people actually became efficient enough to start, well, working. Instead of just focusing on reshuffling their budget and trying to dismantle the Ishgardian war machine, they now had to juggle foreign policy, trade routes, commitments to the Eorzean Alliance, commitments to the Scions, immigration, social reforms, military reforms, economics, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Aymeric just didn’t have enough hands to manage it all.

“You tell me, Lucia,” he said in a rare show of snippiness, “When did I last have a break?”

Lucia straightened up and said, rather coolly, “Three months ago, sir, for half a day.”

Aymeric rubbed at his face and pinched at the bridge of his nose, letting out a very long exhale, “Right.”

“…I think,” Lucia said in a very neutral tone, “That you need a break, sir.”

Aymeric looked at the papers sprawled over his desk for a long moment. What had initially filled him with passionate determination now made him feel an intense dread. He was burnt out, he realised, and stressed to a cracking point, if his embarrassing blow up at the last House of Lords session was anything to go by. “Yes, I think so too.”

“Conveniently,” Lucia continued, “An invitation from Lord Hien of Doma arrived this morning by Postmoogle. It seems they wish to express their gratitude for the contribution Ishgard made towards their reconstruction efforts. It asks for you explicitly by name.”

It was a testament to how tired Aymeric was that he didn’t immediately make the connection, “This is convenient…?”

“Sir, this is a thinly veiled attempt to curry further favour with Ishgard by inviting you to their city to be spoiled and bribed,” Lucia said bluntly, “While the other City States also made contributions to Doma, the engineers and architects we sent have been integral to rebuilding their city and their destroyed castle. No doubt they will want us to continue loaning such expertise until they no longer need it, and to do that…”

“Ah,” Aymeric said, enlightened, “I see.”

“I already sent an acceptance on your behalf,” Lucia said, proving that she was an angel sent down from Halone Herself. If Aymeric weren’t so exhausted, he probably would have gotten down on his hands and knees and thanked her from the very bottom of his heart, “I’m certain the Warrior of Light will be happy to accompany you.”

That was all well and good, except, “But, who will tend to my duties in the interim?”

“I can handle your Lord Commander duties, sir,” Lucia said, and inclined her head towards the door, “And I am sure Lord Artoirel can handle your Speaker duties, as he is your political second in command. You should start learning to delegate.”

Aymeric processed this for a long moment. Then;

“Lucia,” he said gravely, “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”

The faintest curl to Lucia’s lips betrayed her smile.

“Yes, sir,” she said warmly, “You tell me every day.”

---

All things considered, Artoirel handled his sudden burden with good grace.

“You need the break,” Artoirel told him firmly, “I was beginning to worry that you would crash and burn before you started delegating.”

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Aymeric asked, although a sinking feeling in his belly told him that, yes, he had acted a bit like a control freak. He couldn’t help it. He had sweated blood and tears to get Ishgard to this point, and he was terrified that it was going to be cocked up by petty greed and ambitions running counter their fledging republic. There were so many things that could be taken advantage of – were being taken advantage of, where corruption could fester and grow if one took their eyes off it for too long, where their government could collapse in on itself like the unstable house of cards it was and erupt into a destabilising and bloody civil war.

Aymeric wanted this to go well. He needed this to go well. Yet… he was also falling into the trap of thinking it’d only go well if he micromanaged every single possible bit of it, which… which wasn’t all that different to how Father had ruled Ishgard. Just like him, he was all but strangling the government by gripping it so hard. The realisation felt like a knife to the gut.

No, wait. A knife to the gut would have been better, actually.

“You… need to delegate a little, yes,” Artoirel said diplomatically, “But no one can deny you have Ishgard’s best interests at heart.”

Aymeric rubbed his forehead, biting back ‘the Archbishop also had Ishgard’s best interests at heart’, because that was going to go down an emotional rabbit hole of father issues that Artoirel didn’t deserve to sit through.

“Right,” he said instead, bottling up that emotional upheaval for later. He planted his hands on the papers on his desk and pushed them forwards towards his soon-to-be-intensely-suffering-replacement, “In which case, I deeply apologise for the hell I am about to put you through.”

Artoirel looked briefly pained, though the expression quickly cleared into one of grim, determination.

“I’ll endure it,” he said.

Really, Aymeric sincerely hoped Artoirel won the next round of elections for the Speaker position. He was, apparently, a far better politician and man than he’d ever be. That was a bitter pill to swallow, surprisingly, but it was mostly relief Aymeric felt.

Lucia was right.

He was burnt out.

---

Lucia kicked him out of his office before it was mid-afternoon.

“Go home,” she told him, and physically blocked him from getting back in his office. After being soundly out-manoeuvred and cowed by Lucia’s stern glare, Aymeric had no choice but to slink back home feeling oddly out of sorts. He had no looming deadline he had to grind towards, no bills or proposals he had to manage, no patrol reports to review or inspections to prepare for or… anything. He felt almost adrift, and he barely remembered the walk back home.

(Hilda would have been scandalised at his lack of self-awareness. He was probably lucky she didn’t chance upon him. She might have drop-kicked him)

He spent his abrupt dearth of free time not preparing for his journey in less than two days’ time – but by lying on his living room floor. It was, actually, a very comfortable floor, and he now saw why Aza lied down on it so much. It was firm, but not uncomfortably hard, and was doing wonders for his aching back. Maybe he should make this a thing. Just spend an hour lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, slowly dumping all the white noise in his brain so he felt semi-human again.

This was the state Aza found him in a few hours later.

“Aym,” his partner said, standing at his head and smelling faintly of damp and mud, “Are you having a moment?”

“Lucia kicked me out of the office,” he informed him, still disbelieving about that. Grateful, but disbelieving, because the last few hours had been blissful, albeit accompanied by the low-grade anxiety of knowing that he wasn’t doing anything productive, “To take a break.”

Aza laughed at that, crouching down. He was smiling, an adorable grin that flashed his sharp canines and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Aymeric dreamily admired that lovely expression for a long moment.

“I told you that you were working too hard,” Aza chided him gently, “Did you just lie here the whole time?”

“Yes,” Aymeric said shamelessly, “How was fishing?”

“Great. We annoyed a kraken and fought it.”

Aymeric hummed quietly, finding himself smiling a little stupidly at how genuinely pleased Aza looked at that. Only he would find fighting a kraken a good outcome of fishing, “Did you win?”

“Of course!”

Not long after that he had an armful of Aza, stripped naked with his brine-smelling clothes in a pile next to the sofa. The smell of damp and mud still lingered, but Aymeric still inhaled it and found that tight knot squeezing his belly slacken and relax. No matter how stressed he became, he could always count on Aza just… making it right again. True, he brought his own challenges from time to time, but, Gods, they were worth it.

“You have a dopey look on your face,” Aza commented, the pair of them nose to nose, “I bet you’re thinking of something very schmoopy.”

“Mmm…” Aymeric smiled lazily, “I’m thinking about how much I love you.”

“Sap,” Aza muttered, but his cheeks were a little pink and he was smiling, “You always think about that.”

“Not always,” Aymeric said, “Sometimes I think about how beautiful you look. Or how amazing you are. Or how many Chocobos you’re going to adopt when we retire-”

“Fifty,” Aza said instantly.

“More like one hundred,” Aymeric said wryly, “Like you’d stop at fifty.”

“Point.”

“In short,” Aymeric concluded, “I think about plenty of things… but it is mostly about how much I love you.”

“I can see that,” Aza said, giving him an odd smile. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to say something, but then just sighed and closed his eyes, “I love you too, Aym. Even if you are a sappy dork.”

A companionable silence fell on them then. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Aymeric just basked in the warmth of his partner’s body curled against his own, the press of his forehead against his own, the tickle of Aza’s hair against his nose and bottom lip, just… listening to him breathe, feeling him in his arms, here, existing, slowly, Aymeric could feel the lingering tension in his body just…ease away.

Yes, he definitely needed that break. He hadn’t realised how bone-weary and burnt out he was until now. A few weeks longer and he might’ve self-destructed entirely, jeopardising everything he worked for and causing the problems he feared would happen, just from stubbornly micromanaging everything.

Doma would still be work, but it’d be relaxed work. He would have to schmooze and make friends, but he wouldn’t have to also juggle a thousand other things simultaneously. It’d be good for him to just decompress and figure his own life out, before wading back into the thorny battlefield that was Ishgardian politics.

“What’re you thinkin’ ‘bout?” Aza asked him sleepily.

“… work,” Aymeric murmured, kissing the tip of his nose, “You’ll find out later.”

“Hrm,” Aza was content with that, and he watched as his partner slipped off into a dozing slumber. He looked adorable. It was amazing how loving someone so much made even the simple act of sleeping seem like the most sublime thing on the planet. Aza was right, he was such a sappy dork.

For the first time in a while, his worries about Ishgard were… the furthest thing from his mind.

#ffxiv #fanfic #aymeric de borel #warrior of light #lucia goe junius #hilda ware #artoirel fortemps #dumb fic stuff

11 notes · View notes

shardclan · 7 years ago

Photo

Rebis kept having to wipe her hands on her clothes to keep them dry. She was well into her fledging years and the days of mild lessons taught in the Library had come to an end. She sat nervously at the Tribunal table feeling as though she stuck out like a serpenta. She liked the idea of being House Perihelion’s Requester and ensuring that the western part of the territory got all the things that it needed, and Saber had made it clear to her many times that sometimes it called for politics. But it was different to hear that than to sit in the Hall of Five Lights and watch resource exchange politics actually occur.

The Morning Queen who was so personable and kind with her citizens radiated unapproachable sovereignty to the outsiders who entered her court. She didn't even have a throne--her chair was no different than of the other chairs around the exterior curve of the table but the way she sat in it, it may as well have been carved from the bricks of the Beacon and gilded with pearls. It amazed Rebis most how easily the queen seemed to change the tone of her intensity without ever actually seeming to turn it off. With the alchemists guild, ever lavishing gifts on their Celestine Queen, she was warm and benevolent. With the merchants she was firm and defensive of her citizen's well-being. With the beastclans she was humble and welcoming. With the politicians and representatives of other light courts she was coolly impenetrable. How was she supposed to stay calm before that?

Apokathisto, sitting stone-faced and watchful on the other side of the table, observed a much different queen. One who looked fondly on all the baubles and oddities that comprised most of the alchemist’s gifts and had to quickly hide flickers of consuming curiosity every time it wasn’t a mere knick knack. One who was noticeably quick-tempered with merchants, especially those who nurtured Trader’s Walk. In her defense, he also found it infuriating that they wanted her to ignore the threat of the Emperor in Hewn City for supply chain purposes--especially when the war they meant seemed to be about something in Ashfall rather than the Emperor itself.

She was strangely dismissive of other royalty; the more finery they wore and the harder they tried to impress her, the more she treated them like chores. She struggled with defensiveness when harpy delegates were in her court, and in spite of treating the centaurs as casual neighbors. Almost all of the Tribunes were that, likely owing to the poor harpy relations of the past.

Eventually he was meant to be a barrister, but being a student of Dalma had left him in constant contact with the history of the old clan. It was an enthralling story when he let it be, but he reminded himself constantly that it was real and the consequences were all around him. All he had to do was pick up on them.

Admittedly difficult when across the table from him Rebis kept fidgeting. He caught her eye a few times and made subtle motions for her to calm down. Each time she nodded and visibly took a deep breath and did her best to be a good, model apprentice... She just wasn’t very good at it. Moments later she would end up nervous again. Telos had that affect on her, though gods take him if he could figure out why.

They were both distracted from her sweaty reverie by the displeased huff of a ridgeback whose color reminded them of warm milk, steaming and fresh from the creamery.

The Hall admitted dragons with and without glamours, and they hardly ever wore glamours at House Betelgeuse, but Rebis couldn't help pressing back against her seat as the pointed nose leaned close to appraise her.

"This is a throne room," he chided with a gravelly, booming voice that made Rebis' fins retract. "Not a nursery."

Telos full attention went to the ridgeback like a razor to his throat. "I believe you came for an audience with me, so you'll have to remind me why you are menacing an apprentice in my court."

He drew back lazily, casting his deep green gaze at the queen and then at Apokathisto across the room. "I expected the due respect of an audience that is old enough to understand the concept of confidentiality."

"This is not a throne room," Apokathisto pointed out crossly. He was surprised at how difficult it was to keep the irritation from his voice, but he made the attempt to contain it properly and continued, "This is a Tribunal Hall. Under Aphaster law, any citizen whose livelihood would be directly impacted according the the submitted subject of a given audience is permitted to attend it. Additionally, certain non-tribunal dragons are allowed to attend at will if the subject matter is not deemed politically or socially volatile."

The ridgeback stroked his chin. Despite his natural scowl, he seemed more amused than offput. "And who are you then?"

"I am the student of the Queen's Historian and Keeper of Precedent, in training to become Aphaster’s barrister," Apokathisto answered coolly, shuffling through his notes. "And she is shadowing Tribune Saber in her capacity as Requester-trainee of House Perihelion."

A silence took the floor as the ridgeback mulled this over. Rebis had the insight to close her mouth and try to look imperious and irate with the rudeness she had just endured, but it was a thin mask. She was amazed, but she was also embarrassed. Owing to the difference of their species, Apokathisto had always looked older, and she had always perceived him to be the more somber, mature one between them, but this was the first time she had ever felt overshadowed by him.

It didn't help that she saw Telos pressing back an incredibly smug smile. "Do you have anything to add, or can we proceed?"

The ridgeback shrugged, which had the effect of alarmingly shifting all of his many spines, but his voice was amicable, even impressed. "I beg pardon for my imprudence. You don't often see such a strong work ethic in wyries that age."

Rebis' eyes dropped to her hands. She didn't hear much of what actually happened after that. Only dimly did she note the ridgeback departing, Apokathisto looking up to Arcanus for approval, and that he received it not only from the knight but the queen as well. Several more names were announced, and their owners came and went, until finally they had all been exhausted.

It was only when she found the hall emptied save herself, the queen, the knight, and Saber, she became quite aware of her surroundings again. But to her relief none of them were looking at her. Telos was staring at a slip of paper, which Saber seemed to be waiting for her to make a decision on.

"Leave us alone please," she murmured. As Saber pressed gently at Rebis' back, the queen called out. "Leave her."

"Your majesty?"

She smiled faintly. "Apokathisto will never be the type to endure these situations. He's too much like Azricai to bear it. Rebis should stay."

Rebis found her nerves jumping up again as Saber left and Arcanus beckoned her to his side, almost entirely hiding her between his bulk and the chair that sat empty next to Telos. She didnt have a good view of who was coming, but she could see the queen's face and easily read her increasing disquiet as a faint clicking of footsteps announced another guest.

Recommended Listening: Peaceful Sleep - NieR: Automata

Rebis peeked as subtly as she could. She couldn't see much, but she made out a billowy shirt with an absurdly deep neckline, an eyepatch, and a head of silk-fine, gray-streaked hair. Branching antlers were silhouetted by the sunlight coming through the entry pillars--an imperial for sure.

There was no way to know who that was, but there was a distinctly different tone to the room. Telos' intensity was gone, replaced by something very different indeed.

“I heard you came to ask after me,” the imperial said warmly. Her voice was low and somewhat scratchy, and had a worn, creaky quality that reminded Rebis of Prophecy and Hart and other older dragons. “You didn’t have to leave the flowers too, I’m the one who is supposed to be sweeping you off your feet.”

“I...I’m glad you’re alright.” Despite the admittance, her temper changed. “Why did you come here? With Sornieth the way it is, you could have died.”

"I could die any time, it’s why I make sure I do what I want.” She gave a sweet smile that clearly said she had done just that. “I read with great interest that the Morning Queen of Aphaster had laid aside her veils and golden tears. I wanted to see it for myself."

"So you see," Telos answered curtly, holding her head high to display her new markings.

A faint chuckle bounced on the marble. "My chances haven't improved a bit. Don't worry, I haven't brought you any gifts."

"The request for audience stated otherwise."

"I lied," she said cheerfully. "Couldn't for the life of me think up another good reason, that didn’t involve bringing more bad news." Her voice dropped, sincere and humble and a little bittersweet. "As much as you deserve it, I know you don't like to be doted on. I just wanted to see you. See if you looked happy."

"My happiness isn't your affair," Telos stressed weakly.

"Neither is making flowers bloom but I still look forward to spring."

There were a few faint clicks as the woman came closer. Rebis smelled the sea on her even before she saw the color of her eye that marked her as a water native. It was creased by crow's feet that added to her handsomeness, and she was the tallest female Rebis had ever seen, towering even as she knelt on the other side of the tribunal table.

"Even if you scowl at me," she said tenderly. "I can see you've changed over the winter." She tilted her head, peering at Telos curiously but without pleading. "But not enough to walk with me as we used to, I suppose."

Rebis glanced at Telos and couldn't tell what was wrong. Her brows were drawn in such clear frustration, but she was on the verge of tears.

"I can't," she said finally. "I can't, Gethsemene..."

Gethsemene’s crow's feet lengthened with her light-hearted smile. "Come now," she chided as she stood. "Don't cry over an old fool like me."

"I am a young fool and I will cry over whatever I wish," Telos snapped.

Rebis thought there was warmth in those words, and the imperial too seemed to take it as a kind of peace offering.

"That's the spirit," Gethsemene cheered. The lines of her face revealed both love and an intimate empathy that made Rebis instinctively avert her eyes. "I hope to see you again at your son’s wedding. My crew’s taking shelter under the falls until the sea is less unpredictable so our stay will be longer than usual this eon.” She winked. “I promise you wont get any more suspicious audience requests in the mean time."

Telos clenched her fists and with great difficulty she offered her hand. "Please take care of yourself, Gethsemene."

Gethsemene clasped Telos' hand in hers, pressed it adoringly but politely to her forehead, and left the hall with a meandering but jaunty step.

Telos sighed deeply, and seemed to melt into her chair, more exhausted by that momentary exchange than by all the difficult audiences that had come before it combined. The silence stretched on and on until Rebis fumblingly tugged at Arcanus' cloak and tried to discreetly ask who that was.

"Gethsemene," Telos replied in his stead, without moving or opening her eyes. "Last epoch, during the eon of Wavecrest, she introduced herself and we began a trade agreement. Her wife is deceased; has been for...gods it would be near 3 epochs now." Her eyes opened, staring up at the rays filtering down through the skylights. "She saw herself in me, I suppose. Always offering a kind word, asking how I was feeling. She gave me her support when I was still at my most angry and wounded. Walked me through the pains of being a widow." The obvious question came to Rebis' lips, but for once she stifled her curiosity. Telos went on anyway. "Then she fell in love with me." She gave a short, sarcastic bark of laughter. "Scores of scorned suitors and she threw herself in with them."

"That's not her fault!" Rebis cried, surprised at her own defensiveness of a total stranger.

"I know it isn't." Telos pressed her eyes shut. "If I had my way, I would go back to the way things once were. But some things cannot be undone, Rebis. Gethsemene knows me and my sorrows, and I know for a fact that she is not some wheedling politician hoping to seduce their way into power or some smitten romantic who thinks I have a maiden's heart that they can re-awaken if only I am shown a grand enough gesture."

She covered her eyes, and Rebis felt her entire body go hot and prickly with panic as tears spilled from under Telos' fingers. "She spares me obvious affections because she knows it pains me, but there are dozens of little things she does, little ways she looks at me that are probably as involuntary as breath to her. I can't un-see those things or un-know her heart--and being loved without being able to return it is far more than I can bear."

An army of words rushed to Rebis' tongue, but none made it out. There were many ways to interpret those words, and yet... Only one clicked coldly into place, illuminating things Rebis immediately regretted knowing. The feeling of being too young to understand Telos shed away like old scales, and her desperate, frightening desire for even the slightest reciprocation dulled to a faint but still-painful throb.

Rebis had been in the company of every dragon in the clan, she had stayed with them, lived with them for however short a time before moving to some other household where she was equally welcome. Few spoke of Telos with personal familiarity to begin with, and it dawned on Rebis that those who did weren't Aphaster-born. They were the relics of the old clan, every single one.

Had Telos attached to anyone since she became queen?

Though she barely noticed, the tension she normally felt in Telos' presence drained away. She finally saw Telos as she was; as what she had always very openly stated she was, but which Rebis had never quite managed to internalize.

Under the crown, and in private, she was still an exalt's widow and mother to a daughter than hadn't even been named before the Arcanist claimed her too.

Telos didn't have the room in her to love or be loved by Gethsemene. And finally Rebis understood that there was no room in Telos to love or be loved by her either. There never had been. There never would be.

She looked away, desperate to see anything else. She wanted to go home--any home in Aphaster would do so long as it got her away from there. But when she looked to Arcanus, he was staring at Telos with an expression of resigned grief.

Her crests slowly fell until they were limp against her shoulders.

Oh... she thought sadly. You too huh...?

#Flight Rising #Stars Rising #C: Gethsemene #C: Telos #It's time for sadness but also raising questions about when the shit the boys are getting married

17 notes · View notes