#My indulgence is legendary and my cares are none | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

concussed-to-pieces · 6 years ago

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More! Part One

Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Eventual Tenya Iida/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M

AN: Hello all, it's time for the first chapter of my prime indulgence! To any of my anime-inclined broskis out there, welcome aboard!

In The Shadow

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For gratuitous,canon-typical violence and facial trauma. Stay safe!]

Tenya had been informed time and again that college was slightly different from high school. He endured a few weeks of mental gymnastics when he realized that he wouldn’t have a uniform. College was different and yet...not. Certainly, no uniform to iron the night before and the ability to make your own schedule were boons. Nearly all of his ‘new’ classmates were old friends from high school which meant that he wasn't lacking in company, but many people didn’t seem to share Iida’s enthusiasm for continuing to better oneself even after the preliminary quirk training of high school! He wanted to be the best hero he could be, he wanted to make his family proud!

That was why he made the choice to attend college in the first place, with Tensei's wholehearted support behind him. He knew that any time he wanted it, he could have a job at his family’s hero agency. So why not be the best possible fit for his future job? Tenya was incredibly fortunate to have a secure career, and he took his studies very seriously.

Leona Moore wasn’t a troublemaker, though the way that she dressed had set off warning bells in Tenya’s brain. It was the pants, he decided, the overlarge cargo pants that had too many pockets. She was notoriously early for her classes, sometimes by an hour or so. Tenya admired her dedication, consistently fifteen minutes ahead of schedule himself. She always had a lollipop stick protruding from her mouth, her shoulders hunched slightly underneath the leather jacket she usually wore. She couldn’t seem to decide on whether she wanted to make herself seem larger or smaller, her clothes all slightly too big for her frame and her jokes never failing to make Kirishima snort with laughter at the worst possible times.

Her quirk made her a little touch-shy, Izuku had kindly pointed out to Tenya when Iida was confused over her standoffish behavior during their warm up period before general training. “She’s had to be pretty careful, Iida. She didn’t learn how to use her quirk until halfway through high school. Before that, she didn’t even know she had one!” Iida could only imagine how volatile the situation for that revelation must have been, seeing as she had a quirk that doubled the power of any kinetic force she withstood.

She also had control, seeming to have mastered the ability to turn it off and on at will. Tenya's misguided pity had turned into genuine admiration after watching her perform in their college sports festival. Granted, next to the explosive display of Bakugou versus Ururaka or the emotional minefield of Todoroki and Deku's battle, Leona's bout wouldn't stand out overmuch to the average viewer.

Leona had been paired up against Mineta, who made the fatal mistake of immediately pelting her with his ammunition in an attempt to incapacitate her. The kinetic energy from his rapid-fire slinging seemed to send her into overdrive, the young woman slamming an uppercut to his jaw that landed him in the lower stands. One punch, and the round was over. Iida silently approved of the way she had turned and bowed to the crowd before leaving the field. As a hero, one of many priorities would be to end fights quickly and decisively. Another one was courtesy to bystanders and officials-

...

How strange, he mused, thinking about her at a time like this. His rage continued to boil and yet…

He closed his eyes. Just for a minute. God, it was strange. Would she be proud of him? Proud of his rabid behavior? What about his family? Fear lanced through Tenya's heart, the first he had felt in ages. What if his parents lost him to this ill-advised fight? What if...what if this was the end?

The blade in his shoulder twisted sharply and Tenya bit back a sound of pain. He refused to show any more weakness to this monster, regardless of what he might endure.

“Hey, what the hell are you doin' to my class rep?!”

Tenya's eyes shot open. No. That's-

“You've got the nerve of a bull elephant if you're takin’ on ‘Genium. Who do you think you are?!”

“Run More! Get away from here!” Tenya yelled. “He’s got some kind of paralysis quirk, don't let him get close to you!”

Stain grunted, obviously a little startled by the young woman's abrupt presence. From what Tenya could see out of the corner of his eye, his classmate Leona (hero name More for reasons he had yet to discern) looked red in the face like she’d been running for a while. Her shoulders were still heaving up and down even while she raised her fists.

“You're another trainee. Interesting.” Stain remarked, almost as if he was talking to himself. “So you're also from the college. And you called him the class rep, which means he and you are in the same classes.”

“Mind like a steel trap on ya’.” Leona replied dryly. “Any other obvious insight you want to share, or can I beat the shit out of you now?”

Tenya bit back the reflexive shout of language!, shocked out of his impotent bloodlust by how brazen his classmate was being. It was an admirable strategy. Or at least, it would have been if she actually had backup.

“Another fake hero who needs to be cleansed from the planet.” Stain eased his blade out of Tenya's arm agonizingly slow.

“Thanks, but I'm plenty clean. Took a shower this mornin’ and everything. The name's More, and I'm no fake!” Leona called to Tenya then, her voice sharp with poorly-concealed worry. “How you holdin’ up, Calf Crusher?”

Tenya groaned. Her nicknames never ceased to send the class into fits. “I can't move. I'll be no help at all. He's just going to kill you. Why did you interfere?”

“You've gotta' be shittin’ me right now, Rep. Like I would just stand by and watch you get fucked? What kind of friend would that make me?” She sounded incredulous. If Tenya didn't know any better, she actually sounded a little irritated.

“One that keeps living, that's what kind!” Tenya snapped. We're barely friends! his mind added traitorously.

Leona pounded her fist into her palm and then jerked her hands up in a way oddly reminiscent of how Iida would move when he was excited. “I know who this guy is. More importantly, I know who you are and I figured out what you were up to when you picked Hosu for your internship. It's okay.” She reassured him.

You're going to die. “I'm begging you. Please leave.”

“I'm not gonna’ let you degrade yourself by beggin’ me, bud.” Leona retorted. “Second oldest son, heir to the Ingenium name, badass extraordinaire and all around decent dude, shut the fuck up and let me do what I can to make sure you can keep doing the best that you can!” She all but shouted, leaving Tenya speechless as Stain stepped over his body.

“‘More’, huh? Why, because you're always trying to be the best? Maybe because you want to protect more people. At least, that's what you would say, right?” Stain sneered, brandishing his sword.

“No way man! ‘More’ because the more the merrier when it comes to me!” She shot right back, that teasing grin firmly fixed on her face. “I may not be fast or smart like ‘Genium...hell, I'm not even all that special compared to the other people in my class, but I'm still here!” Tenya's eyes widened as she advanced on Stain, extending a hand. “I look forward to apprehending you, sir!”

“You'll be fun to kill.” Stain lashed out a second too late, Leona barely ducking his blade in time. “Another false hero, proud to wear the title and unwilling to do the damn dirty work that comes with it!”

“I feel like this is pretty dirty work right now.” She pointed out, catching his next strike with her gloved hand and grunting at the impact against the padding of her gloves. “Whew, a little harder next time and you'll take me down for sure!” She encouraged sarcastically, twisting the blade and coming close to ripping it clean out of the villain's grasp. She was so focused on his sword that the knife thrown at her arm caught her by surprise.

Stain’s speed and raw power were devastating. The blade sank deep, so deep, too deep. Tenya's brother in that hospital bed was burned into his mind, I can't feel my legs I can't feel my legs. “More!” Tenya had thought he felt helpless before, but it was now multiplied tenfold. “Damn it, I told you to run!”

“It shouldn't be too tough to keep him here until the pros arrive. I'm in for the long haul, Calf Crusher. Don't worry.” Leona said calmly, her rational words only serving to confuse the engine hero. She was built to take hits and he had never witnessed any particularly mindblowing strategies from her. Maybe he had written her off too soon. Maybe-

Stain rushed her, that deadly sword smeared red with Iida's blood. Moore jerked the knife out of her arm and used it to hastily deflect the worst of the cut from the sword away from her torso, snagging the blade under her arm instead. Stain drew another knife, this one serrated, and slashed at her face with it. One of the teeth on the knife caught the edge of her mouth and split it open nearly to her cheekbone. Leona staggered back, holding her cheek.

Stain turned up the pressure, releasing his sword momentarily in favor of cracking a fierce punch into her wounded face. Blood spattered from the impact, Stain's knuckles that sick red. “That all you got? Gimme’ more!” Moore slurred through her broken mouth, that infuriating grin still-

Oh. Tenya felt like an idiot. She was the endurance hero. She absorbed punishment like it was oxygen, a kinetic battery that could only be charged by violent outbursts. And when she decided to strike back, she doubled the output...but her body had limits, he had seen them in action during training. Midoriya had given her a kick at her request and instead of explosively discharging the extra power, she just passed out.

His heart slammed in his throat. If she pushed herself too hard, Stain wouldn't even have to do anything.

She swung at the hero killer and the doubled power of her blow threw him to slam his back into the alley wall. Stain wheezed for breath, clearly confused by the force behind her hit. “Just who the hell are you?” He panted.

“Beat me an’ maybe you'll learn.” Blood was spilling between her gritted teeth, running in a brilliant trail down her chin to drip off the bottom of her jaw. She was smiling like a fiend.

“I've never met anyone so eager to die.” Stain grimaced, rotating his shoulder and then shaking it out.

Tenya heard a strange crackling noise, almost like electricity. Midoriya rocketed over his head and bounded off the walls of the alleyway, a green missile with fist extended to crash into Stain. “Smash!” He yelled. Green energy, lightning, whatever it was it was blanketing his body. The Hero Killer was flung further back in the alley from the impact. Izuku skidded to a halt beside Moore, shaking his hand and hissing in pain. “Sorry I took so long!” He said brightly, like he hadn't just given the man responsible for killing a multitude of heroes the most thunderous of haymakers. “How you doing?”

“Take care of ‘Genium. He can't move, help him get out of here!” Leona said urgently.

Tenya refused to meet Midoriya's eyes, ashamed at how his own filled with frustrated tears. Midoriya reached for him and then went stiff. Tenya's heart fell into his stomach when he noticed the small tear in Midoriya’s glove and the blood blotting the fabric. Just enough. “Uh...I can't...move either?” Midoriya muttered slowly.

Tenya watched Leona freeze as well, her arms grinding to a halt. “Stain, your fight is with me! Leave them alone!” Tenya yelled, his voice cracking.

Further down the alleyway Stain grinned, giving his knife another lick. “I think I'd rather play with your friends. At least they landed hits on me. Unlike you. How does it feel to know that this is entirely your fault, fake hero?”

An ugly noise of agony fought free of Iida, rasping in his throat like sandpaper. It was true, wasn't it? Tensei worked so hard because Tenya believed in him, looked up to him, and the eldest Iida wanted to make his little brother proud. If Tenya hadn't been such a child, maybe…maybe his big brother wouldn't have tried so hard to rid the world of injustice. Maybe his big brother would still be able to walk. Fake hero.

And his classmates, friends, tangled up in this mess because of him! Midoriya crouched so close and yet so far away, his eyes darting around as he tried to figure out where Stain would come from. Moore, frozen in place with her back to the two of them while she was forced to face down the Hero Killer. “I'm so sorry.” Tenya breathed finally.

“Don't apologize! I should be apologizing. I should have gotten you to talk to me after what happened to your brother.” Midoriya looked tearful. “I should have said something. I just didn't want to pressure you. I'm sorry I'm a bad friend.”

Tenya was at a loss for words, losing his ability to stave off the tears streaming down his face.

Flames suddenly illuminated the whole alley, the gout of fire threatening to cook Tenya in his armor. “Next time you send your location, give a little more info.” It was Todoroki! And he was using his left side! Tenya was aghast. How many acquaintances had his blind rage dragged to this slaughter?

“Easy! I think you singed my hair!” Midoriya fussed at the icy hot hero. “That was all I had time to send!”

Stain hammered a fist into Moore's side, making the endurance hero spit out a mouthful of blood. Her arm wound up for a swing of her own, body sluggishly chugging forward like she was moving through molasses. The fact that she could move at all, though-! Was it because she absorbed the momentum from his hits? Or was Stain’s control weaker the more people it was spread across? Tenya found himself pondering the ins and outs of the man's quirk even as Stain pummeled Moore. She was defenseless, where was the honor in this?! Tenya's fingers twitched, uselessly tapping the cracked blacktop.

Todoroki drove Stain away from Moore with a combination attack, fire and ice arcing through the air as he switched rapidly. Leona slid one foot back, then the other, spitting more blood off to the side and slowly raising her arms in a defensive move. “Icy Hot, you-”

“I know. Keep my distance. Shouldn't be too difficult.” The flames on Todoroki's left side burned even brighter. “I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with my fire yet, but I can't deny its applications here.”

“How many children will throw themselves upon my blade tonight?” Stain cackled incredulously. “Bad enough that your friend in the armor didn't have the brains to run and get help just like his stupid brother, but now the rest of you feed yourselves to me!” He shook his head. “This next generation of heroes gets weaker and weaker. At least I'm lessening the workload on your professors.”

“You be quiet!�� Iida shouted, fingers digging into the asphalt. “Ingenium was the model hero, the perfect example of selflessness and respect for others that a villain like you couldn’t possibly understand! I'll never forgive you for hurting my brother!” He screamed, able to move his neck now so he could look up at Stain while he issued his ultimatum. He didn't care how idiotic he must look, barely managing to wiggle his fingers while he yelled his fury at this man, this villain, this monster who had fractured his family.

“You're selfish. Dragging your friends into this fight because of your petty need for revenge. You're the furthest thing from a hero. You're a weakling.” Stain sheathed his sword, drawing two smaller knives instead and lunging at Todoroki and Moore.

“Don’t listen to him!” Midoriya said fiercely, somehow already able to move again! Was Tenya really that weak? Or was Stain’s quirk overpowering him because he had been the first one hit? “He’s just-”

“No. He's completely correct.” Tenya cut him off dully, clenching his hand into a fist. “If I hadn't been so consumed with this...if I had just been stronger, maybe…” Emotion closed his throat.

“Knock it off!” Leona yelled, startling him with the fury in her tone. “You don't need to be a fuckin’ martyr, Iida! What good does it do your brother if you get your ass killed?” Her voice was rough, words hard to understand through the injury she had sustained. “Think about how your parents will feel, and especially think about how your brother will feel! We're here to help, Rep, but you gotta’ take our hand!”

“Ingenium wouldn't give up!” Todoroki continued where she left off. “Be Ingenium! Get up and fight!”

As though a switch had been flipped, feeling surged through Tenya's arms and legs. Pins and needles so harsh it made him wince, and it was nothing compared to the pain in his limp arm, but he was up, he was up-

He staggered to his feet, splaying his stance just to stay vertical.

Stain hacked Midoriya’s leg out from beneath him after barely avoiding another Smash and then rushed Todoroki, nimbly dodging the fire and ice attacks in an attempt to bring that sword down on Todoroki's left arm, he would sever it clean at his shoulder-

Tenya felt like everything shifted to quarter-speed. Leona's fingers grasped desperately at Todoroki's shirt to try and pull him out of the way in time. She was still too slow, still sapped by the hero killer's quirk. Shoto's eyes went wide in realization, the young man attempting to recoil backwards away from the blade. Midoriya was yelling something, Todoroki's name no doubt, tears shining in his eyes.

Tenya's breathing echoed in his ears. In, out, in--

The engines in his calves came roaring to life in a glorious rush of Reciproburst! and without a thought for his own safety, Tenya was there between Todoroki and that sword. His armored knee shattered the blade before he whipped his whole body around via bicycle kick and re-aimed his leg at Stain's side. The hit made landfall accompanied by a shower of blue sparks from the heat of his engines, essentially drop-kicking the villain out of midair.

Stain was flung head over heels. Iida stumbled as his right leg gave out, clumsily dropping to one knee. His engines sputtered to a halt, shudders of pain from his calves flickering over the all-encompassing agony in his wounded arm. Fleetingly he wondered if he had ruptured something in his frenzy.

“Iid-Ingenium!” Todoroki shoved the larger man behind him and issued another burst of flame, barely warding off the rallying villain in time. “He’s fighting like a rabid animal. Be careful!”

“Give me a good kick, ‘Genium!” Leona suggested eagerly. “I'll get his ass back down to ground level so you and the others can wreck him!”

“My Reciproburst shot my engines and I don’t think a regular punch would offer you sufficient damage, I've overheated and I need more…time...” Iida paused, his eyes narrowing as a thought occurred to him. “Todoroki! Can you freeze my legs without plugging my exhausts?”

Todoroki opened his mouth to reply and Stain roared in outrage, bolting through Todoroki's flames in the distraction for another attack on the icy hot hero. Tenya and Moore moved at the same time, Tenya extending his good arm in front of Todoroki’s chest to offer him the protection of his armor while Leona rushed forward to fight Stain one on one. “You're in the way!” Stain snarled at them, leaping backwards up the icy pillars Todoroki had created.

A folding knife found its mark in Tenya's upper arm after penetrating his armor and he gritted his teeth in pain, doing his best to hold fast. “Todoroki please-!” A larger serrated knife followed the first, slamming into Tenya's forearm so hard he was forced prone. The wind was knocked out of him by his abrupt change in posture and Tenya choked for breath, still bewildered by the Hero Killer's power and tenacity.

“Iida!” Todoroki actually stopped his elemental attacks on Stain in favor of reeling back his fire-wreathed fist and whacking a heated punch into Moore's shoulder (to Tenya's dismay). Leona laughed (also to Tenya's dismay), easily accepting the blow while the air began to reek of smoldering cloth and lycra. Todoroki quickly slapped his other hand down on the burning area of her vest, extinguishing the heat before it could get out of hand.

“Just freeze my legs!” Iida yelled, startled by the fierce cry Moore let out before she lunged upwards at the retreating Stain.

A distraction, a distraction, he realized suddenly, take the punishment and double it to give us time. Please Leona!

Midoriya was back up again, limping badly. Cold ripped at the armor covering Tenya's calves, the frigid temperature almost too much to bear. This was an incredible risk he was taking, pushing on past the natural boundaries that his quirk and familial training had instilled. He hadn’t had enough time to recover naturally from his last Reciproburst. If something gave out under the strain, he would be incapable of defending himself.

It didn't matter. Tenya felt his engines choke, sputter, and then rev wildly. His left arm was useless at this point. He used his teeth to pull out the knife in his right, retching at the sour taste of old blood on the handle. Both arms were effectively unusable.

It didn't matter. He would use his legs. As long as Leona could land a hit that would get Stain off-balance enough for himself (and possibly Midoriya, but it might be presumptuous to rely on him) to capitalize on, that was all that he could ask for.

Iida stood, bending his legs at the knees as he prepared to leave the ground. Leona wisely aimed at the building directly beneath where Stain had jabbed the remaining stub of his sword in to perch, the doubled power from Todoroki's hit easily crushing the cement to instability. Thank God the buildings were long abandoned. Stain at least picked fights far away from where people would frequent, isolating his victims. A solitary, fiendish predator.

Iida crouched as low as he could, his exhausts glowing bright blue with the horsepower he was putting out. A new word came to mind.

“Recipro-” The engines in his calves stalled and keened, out of sync with one another as the ice dissolved into rivulets of moisture on the heated surface of his armor. “-extend!” He left the ground behind, a cloud of dust billowing in his wake.

If I just…

Tenya rocketed towards Stain, his eyes locked on the villain.

...use my leg…

He was vaguely aware of Midoriya out of the corner of his blurred vision, a brilliant streak of verdant green that seemed to hang in midair perpendicular to his path of upward motion.

...that's all I need…

His knee threatened to hyperextend even with his armor to brace him. Iida squinted fiercely and gritted his teeth.

...to beat this guy!

Midoriya’s fist planted in Stain's jaw the same time Iida's foot crashed into the villain's unprotected side. The impact rang in Tenya's ears, metal on cloth on skin on metal, high reverberations that sent shivers down his back.

Even after that tandem strike, the conniving villain still managed to swipe wildly at Tenya with one of his many knives. Tenya barely moved his head in time, feeling the blade just catch on the top of his dark locks. He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the fact that the three of them were now rapidly returning to the ground. Izuku started scrabbling at the wall, trying to grab a handhold.

“I will defeat you Stain!” Iida shouted passionately. “Because you are a criminal, and I am a hero!” His second kick didn't miss the free-falling villain either, cracking into Stain’s side so hard Tenya could feel the older man’s ribs collapse as they plummeted towards Todoroki and Leona in the alley far, far below.

Arms locked around Tenya's hips and Leona pushed off the wall in an abrupt redirection, moving Tenya so Todoroki could have a clear shot at the villain. How had she jumped so high, so fast?! She skidded to a stop on a pillar of ice that Shoto had made, still holding tight to Tenya’s waist. Iida shifted his weight as low as he could, trying to help so they wouldn’t go over the edge. His legs felt like gelatin, like they would fold underneath him, and he was immensely grateful for her strong hold on his armor.

Shoto's mastery of ice was intimidating enough up close and personal, but his barely-controlled flames were a sight to see. Tenya supposed it probably had to do with man's deep-seated primal terror involving fire, if he had to chalk it up to something. A massive fireball engulfed Stain, missing Midoriya by the barest of inches.

“Deku!” Leona yelled, sighing in relief when the young hero gave her a thumbs up and a wavering smile from his own slippery perch.

“Get up and keep fighting, you three! I doubt that was enough to…” Todoroki trailed off, his eyes widening in confusion. Stain had crash landed on yet another of his icy plateaus, the villain’s eyes rolled back in his skull. He looked like he had been knocked unconscious.

Is he dead?

Tenya hated the sick, joyous thrill that sang up his spine at the thought. He had been so selfish, so blinded in his fury that he believed his actions righteous. It was terrifying that he could so coldly rationalize the taking of another human being’s life, even one so horrible as the Hero Killer! He would never forgive himself if his own mistakes had urged Todoroki forward into doing the unthinkable.

Moore went limp against Tenya’s back, her relief palpable. “Icy Hot, I think we’re all going to need an assist at this point.” She slurred. “I’ve lost...a lot of blood. Head wounds, you know the drill.”

“Your mouth! Moore, are you-”

“I think he knocked out one of my teeth?” She mumbled over Tenya’s frantic question, moving to sit beside him and then carelessly dragging the flap of skin from the split side of her mouth aside (presumably so she could count her own teeth). Tenya fought a wave of nausea at her rough actions, thankful that at least the destroyed side of her face was outside his limited field of vision. His own pain and injuries he could take in stride, but someone else’s because of him was…

He didn’t care for the sensation at all.

Todoroki eased them to the ground through careful manipulation of his quirk, until finally the three heroes and one villain were safely down. Stain had indeed been knocked unconscious, but whether by the punch, kicks or outright fireball was anyone’s guess. Shoto wasted little time securing the villain with some clothesline he found in a dumpster, practically mummifying the older man with the half-frayed rope.

“We need to get him to the street. The pros and the police should be able to handle it from here.” Todoroki said calmly.

“I can drag him!” Tenya offered immediately, taken aback when Todoroki shot him an incredulous look.

“Have you forgotten about your arms, Iida? What will you drag him with?” Shoto deadpanned. Tenya deflated a little. He had almost forgotten the beating he had taken, if he was being honest. Adrenaline.

Moore’s snicker was a half-hearted gurgle at best, the endurance hero scooping Midoriya up onto her back and starting the slow limp to the street. “C’mon Calf Crusher, let’s get you home. I’m sure your pros are really worried about you guys.”

Iida trailed silently after his classmates (friends, he reminded himself), flushed with shame. Moore hung back for a second, letting him come up alongside her and Midoriya.

“Hey, you know that this isn’t your fault, right?” She murmured as best as she could. “I would have done the same thing no matter who the hero killer was going after.”

“I wish I had said something at the train station that day.” Midoriya whimpered. “I could tell that you were hurting, Iida, but I just...I didn’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Iida shook his head dejectedly. “Don’t apologize to me, Midoriya. It’s not your responsibility to look out for my emotional wellbeing. I ought to have better control over my-”

“As your friends, it’s absolutely our responsibility! We need to pay attention to each other in this line of work, Iida!” Midoriya actually interrupted him. “You never know...you never know what could be the thing that pushes someone over their edge! You’ve always been there for the whole class since high school and the one time you needed us, we weren’t there for you!” Izuku was always so passionate about hero work, throwing himself headfirst towards any new challenge they faced. It should be no surprise to Iida that he would have a speech prepared for this situation.

So why were tears blurring his vision further? Tenya tried to no avail to wipe them away with his limp arm, ending up smearing blood across his cheek instead. Moore clicked her tongue at him (an impressive feat in and of itself due to the wounding of her oral cavity), pausing in her forward motion to dig in her pocket and tug out a red bandanna. “Never know when you’ll need a field dressing.” She shrugged, using the cloth to clumsily mop at Iida’s face. “There. That’s better. Look a little less damp.”

“I’m relatively certain that I’m the furthest thing from ‘less damp’ right now. But…” Tenya hesitated, unsure if this was overstepping a classmate or coworker boundary. “Thank you for your, er, concern. I will...do my best to rectify this grave error in judgement.” His bow was, as ever, perfect. “I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

“You don’t need to, Tenya.” Moore using his first name snapped Iida’s eyes up, the large man startled. She gave him a thumbs up and a grin that was a wince, her facial expression a little more kindly than he was used to seeing on her despite the gruesome flap of skin that hung from her cheek. “Let’s go, dude.”

“Will you pull yourself together? You’re the class rep. You're practically our mascot.” Todoroki complained, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Gratitude closed Tenya’s throat and he nodded hurriedly, trying to blink back the fresh wave of tears.

#original the character #I meant to post this on the first...#Iida Tenya #Izuku Midorya #Todoroki Shoto #My Hero Academia #College!AU #alternate universe #Hero Killer Stain #Hero Killer Arc #My indulgence is legendary and my cares are none #The kids are in college and havin' a good time #original character #(definitely original)

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the-lady-of-stars · 4 years ago

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Keep your Captains Close

Captain Rex x Reader

Requested by the lovely @pinkiemme (and a lovely anon!) 💕💕 hope you enjoy, honey bees!!! I thought your prompts would go well with each other so I've combined them, hope thats okay!

Prompts: “Have you ever kissed someone before?” *Touch-starved* “I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay”

The cot in your tent was by no means warm as you shrouded yourself in the standard military blanket. In fact it might as well not have been there at all, as the bitter air of Hoth sunk into your bones.

The campaign had been difficult so far, and it didn’t seem to be easing up any time soon so you figured that any rest you could salvage would be a blessing, but try as you might you just couldn’t get it to happen.

The sound of snow crunching beneath boots just outside the flap of your tent caught your attention, and the familiar force signature notified you that it was your Captain who seemed to be lingering there. He hesitated, you noticed, the shadow of his figure swaying lightly as though he were deciding whether to leave or enter. Naturally you made the decision for him.

“Come in,” you called, just loud enough to alert Rex without waking any of your men who you could hear snoring in the surrounding area.

Rex paused for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to notice him, then carefully peeled apart the velcro of the tent door and slid inside. You sat up to greet him, turning on the lamp that was perched on a crate next to your cot.

“Hey Captain, you okay?” you smiled up at Rex.

You observed as his eyes widened nervously, fingers fidgeting. He opened his mouth to speak but the words were caught in his throat. He cleared it, gathering his confidence before speaking his mind.

“I- uh, I just-” Rex sighed in annoyance, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Sorry to have disturbed you, General.”

Before he could turn to leave you were up out of bed, grasping at his forearm to keep him with you.

“Hey, no, it’s alright. C’mon you can tell me. What’s bothering you, Rex?”

The man refused to meet your eyes as he spoke, gazing down at his feet like he’d never seen them before.

“I- had a nightmare. That’s all, sir.”

“A nightmare? Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it? And there’s no need for formality here Rex, you know my name.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you any further, sir- uh, Y/N.”

“You’re never a bother to me, Rex. Come, sit.” you spoke softly to the Captain, sliding your hand down into his and tugging him to sit on your cot. You watched him expectantly, leaving your hand in his until he was ready to talk. He broke the silence.

“It was about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Specifically the mission to Umbara, the things General Krell did to you. He told us you had left because you were needed back at the temple, and of course we believed him. What need would a Jedi have to lie to us? That was before we knew what he was like. I’d never have guessed that he’d just wanted you out of the way so that he could carry out his plan undetected. The way we found you-” he grimaced, eyes squinting shut and shaking his head as though to clear it. “I couldn’t believe that a Jedi could just leave you tied up to die like that. Stars, the bruises all over you, and the blood. I just can't seem to forget it.”

Rex bowed his head, sighing deeply. You clasped his hands tighter, rubbing your thumbs over them. Sweet Rex. Loyal Rex. Always the perfect soldier, caring about each and every member of his battalion.

“Rex, look at me,” you cooed. Slowly he looked up to meet your eyes, his own looking soft and broken. “Without you I’d never have made it out of Umbara alive. None of us could have known what Krell was up to, even the highest ranking masters on the council fell for his lies. I’ll admit, I lost hope when he tried to get rid of me, I thought I’d never see any of you boys again, but when you found me? I knew then that everything would be alright. That I’d always be safe and looked after, that no one could outsmart the legendary five-oh-first.”

Rex huffed a laugh at that, a smile pulling at his lips.

“There you go. You look better with a smile on your face, Captain.”

Rex felt his face grow hot, eyelids fluttering nervously. There he was, sat holding hands with his General, the prettiest General in the GAR, no less. He couldn’t think of a response, too pre-ocuppied by how soft the touch of your hands was, how they fitted in his like they were meant to be that way. Before he could thank you, Rex noticed a puff of breath escaping your mouth and swirling into the freezing air. Your hands in his were trembling from the cold, and your shoulders were tensed inward to preserve what little heat was there.

“Ah, what am I doing. I’ve gotten you out of your cot and now you’re freezing. Please don’t let me keep you cold any longer.”

Rex was about to leave when your soft sound of protest met his ears, fingers linking into his.

“Wait- what if...” you trailed off, feeling nerves swirl in your stomach.

“If?” he prompted.

“What if you stayed? We’d both benefit from it, I think. You could keep me warm and I could keep you safe from nightmares?”

This time it was you who couldn't bring yourself to meet Rex’s eyes.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, shyness radiating from him through the force. “Yeah okay.”

You smiled nervously at him before shuffling back, scooting under the covers and holding the blanket up in invitation. Rex slipped off his armour, leaving him in just his blacks then slid in next to you.

At first he was stiff as you threw the blanket over him. He was facing you on his side, body rigid, the posture of a soldier even when lying down. That was until he noticed you tremble again, and he knew more than anyone the inefficiency of the GAR issued blankets. He sucked in a breath in preparation for what he was about to do.

“C’mere,” he spoke soothingly, shuffling so that you were pressed up against each other, then throwing an arm over your waist. “That better?”

Rex found the tension leaving his body as he laughed at the blissful sigh you offered him in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Must be the fact that you're in such good company,” he joked, feeling your upper body shake in a laugh.

Rex had only ever been in contact with his brothers; leaning on them in the gunship after long campaigns, holding them as they wept over the loss of a brother, those long nights where he’d join them as they slept in a pile on the floor to ward off each others nightmares. But holding you? It was different.

Tender was the first word that came to Rex’s mind. He found himself focusing on the palm that was pressed against his stomach, the heat that sunk from your skin into his. The way your head was nuzzled into his chest made Rex’s heart race. You were resting so sweetly against him, trusting him to protect you, to keep you warm and safe. And in return you were taking care of him, shielding him from the terrors that haunted him when he closed his eyes. Yes, he thought, good company indeed.

When he looked down again Rex was met with your eyes gazing up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly. His lips parted, he felt like you were stealing the very air from his lungs.

“Rex?” you spoke so softly that he could barely hear it, his name wispy and light coming from your mouth. He hummed in place of a yes, his voice just as quiet as yours. “Have- have you ever kissed someone before?”

Rex truly felt that he might die at any moment, heart pounding and aching at your saccharine words, spoken only for him.

“N-no. I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Oh, maker. Rex didn’t know what in the hells he’d done to deserve this but he’d do it all over again to hear you ask him that every day. He couldn’t bring himself to reply, only shaking his head lightly in affirmation, eyes drifting down to your lips.

His eyes fluttered closed as he felt you move closer, a gasp escaping him as your noses touched and he felt your breath fan over his mouth. Then euphoria.

The Captain melted at the feeling of your soft lips just barely brushing over his. He nuzzled against you, breathing heavily as your mouths swiped together. Eager to drown in you, Rex made the final push, gathering his courage and indulging himself in the taste of your mouth. He felt himself growing weak, toes curling and stomach raging with butterflies. For the first time in his life, Rex felt truly, deeply loved, as though this was the moment that everything in his life had been building up to. Time seemed to freeze as he basked in your sweet lips against his own, how you touched him as though he would shatter like glass if you were too rough. For the first time in his life Rex felt bliss.

Pulling away slowly you both panted for breath, remaining flush against each other, forgetting about every aspect of the world outside of the tent. Hells, General Grievous himself could storm into the camp right that second and Rex wouldn’t even look twice.

And as he held you just like that in his chest all night, Rex found himself in the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had.

#captain rex x reader #clone wars x reader #star wars x reader #captain rex imagine

503 notes · View notes

pleasantanathema · 4 years ago

Text

The Witcher’s Woes

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: bruising/marking, rough sex, dirty talk, light degradation, mentions of blood/injuries, very mild angst, porn with plot

Word Count: 10k

A/N: This is a collab piece for the Pleasant & Strider Present: Fantasy AU Writing Collab hosted by myself, @present-mel, and @linestrider

You can find all the other wonderfully creative and smutty pieces on our masterlist!

P.S.: This is a long one, if you feel like only reading smut, feel free to jump down to the second line break and begin there.

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A Witcher: someone who has undergone extensive training, ruthless mental and physical conditioning, and mysterious rituals, which take place within Witcher schools such as the Wolf, Cat, and Griffin in their respective hidden Kaers, or home castles, in preparation for becoming an itinerant monster slayer for hire. (source: fandom.com).

The storms were raging on the coast, salty waves crashing into the shore like heavy hands attempting to crawl out of the sea, only to get dragged back into the abyss. The winds were howling, lightning crashing, yet the storm was the last thing on your mind as you opened the door to your lowly estate.

Ushijima of Velhad still had his arm raised from where he knocked on the wood, his yellow eyes glowing against the darkness of night. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, his chestnut hair tousled, lines of rain water dripping down his nose, his cheeks pallid. Even still, The Witcher looked to be a living memory, no new wrinkles or scars that you could detect when the rumbling flashes lit the sky. If it wasn’t for the rain, he would’ve looked entirely the same since you last saw him years ago, smiling in the evening glow of the countryside before departing for a new journey.

You ushered him in quickly, silently, your instincts for hospitality taking over before you could begin to think of questioning him about his sudden arrival. His armor was damp, heavy, sloshing and clinking as he undid the leather and meteorite laced straps from his shoulders. He was breathing slowly, deliberately. You rushed to grab towels from a chest, blanketing him in warmth as he sat before your rolling fireplace. He uttered a quiet thanks, never one to use words out of place.

The tea you had been brewing above the fire began to boil. You quickly poured two cups, adding a dash of the alcoholic white gull to his and using a burst of fire magic between your palms to keep the cup warm. You settled into the chair beside him, noticing how his gaze leered into the sparking fireplace.

“Ushijima,” you finally called him, after time had passed and his hair began to dry, “are you hurt? Is that why you’re here?”

He grunted from beside you, moving the hand you noticed had been clutching his rib cage.

“Yes, but not badly. I needed refuge from the storm more-so than a potion.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

He was quiet for a moment, perhaps pondering if he should simplify the truth.

“A sorceress, even in hiding, is never hard to find. The townsfolk talk, you know. I knew you were nearby before even beginning my hunt.”

“You could have asked for more than the tea I gave you, you know I’m here to help.”

He leaned back in the chair, his thick, long legs spreading out before the fire, his socks still damp and clinging to his toes, a big cat uncurling his weary limbs.

“It would have been rude to barge in begging for assistance.”

Ah, yes. He was still as courteous as always, his Griffin School teaching still ingrained in his mannerisms. Most Witchers were not so polite, but that school in particular valued traditional teachings. You knew you’d have to indulge his small conversation before getting more answers from him; he always played the chivalrous game, after all.

“Tell me, what brings you to the shores of Blaviken? Last I saw of you, you were riding north, returning to what is left of Kaer Seren.”

“There is nothing left,” he sighed, both arms now resting on the chair, the last remnants of tea staining his cup, “everything was destroyed, save a few books I found amongst the rubble.”

“What a shame, that library was a marvel. I would’ve liked to visit it myself.”

The story of the destruction of Kaer Seren was only well known to those acquainted with the last remaining Witchers. The keep was tucked away amidst the edge of the sea and the snowy mountains of Kovir to the north. The Witchers of that school, all of Ushijima’s kin, were well acquainted with magic and kept a vast library of mystic tomes within their home. But they were secretive, protective of their knowledge. Witchers, men created by magic to become the monsters they killed, were guarded for good reason. Years of persecution had left their numbers in ruin.

A group of mages felt scorned by the Witchers’ refusal to share their wealth and toppled the castle of Kaer Seren in an avalanche, leaving bodies and crumpled books in the wake, all never to be used again. You could almost picture the blood and ink that stained the snowy graves.

You’d only heard this story from the mouth of Ushijima himself, one night after too many scuffles and too many drinks.

“I brought some for you,” he smiled then, warm and soft, full lips on display, “that’s the real reason I’m here.”

His eyes were especially luminous in the firelight, gold irises reflecting the flames like the most precious of coins. His cheeks were flushed now, color regaining across his skin. Freckles smattered his cheeks like dried blood; you had to hold yourself back from reaching to him, from caressing his skin to see if the marks were lost war paint or new stories etched into his skin. He was tanned from all his time spent meditating in the sun, truly a unique specimen to behold. It was rare to see someone so brutal be so beautiful.

You were excited at his words, your fingers digging into the grooves of your cup at the mention of magical books awaiting you to peruse them.

He could see the eagerness behind your eyes and he laughed, then coughed, but continued his soft chuckling again. You paused, realizing he must be in more pain than he was letting on. His arm had returned to his torso, the thickly corded muscle clutching and protecting whatever injury was lying beneath.

“They’re in my bag by your door, you should go look at—.”

“Ushi, you’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

Before becoming friends with the valiant hunter, you would’ve leapt at the opportunity to read hidden knowledge. But years of acquaintance with the hardened man had your heart tugging in another direction; suddenly, Ushijima was becoming more important than all your years of study and practice in sorcery.

He had a habit of breaking everything he touched: monsters, glass cups, weapons, he had a very powerful grip, and perhaps you were just the next thing in line to come undone by his hands.

You stood from your place by the fire, strolling over to a cabinet where you kept all the alchemy ingredients you had collected from your years living alone here by the sea. Many travelers had come by, having heard of the witch by the shore, bringing elements and components to sell at a high price. And you had taken them all, emptying your purse at even the faintest glimpse of a rare material peeking from their bag. You loved your craft, you had perfected it, almost, and every day you spent toiling away finding new ways to create potions and expand your magical knowledge.

“I need to know what you were hunting earlier.” Your fingers began rustling within the crowded shelves, grabbing an empty bottle as you heard him sigh behind you.

“A Hym,” he said softly, “it scratched my side, it’s deep, but not fatal.”

You stilled, eyes darting across all your ingredients. He said the word so easily, so nonchalantly, like he didn’t just battle a demon.

“A slice from Hym’s ethereal claws drains the life force from their victim, the longer that wound sits untreated, the worse you will get.” You mentally cursed at him, blaming his chivalrous nature for hurting him for longer than he deserved to be in pain. If he had said something when he came in your front door, you could have had him on the mend already.

“I know that, but a small potion to get me through most of the pain until now.”

“You’ll need more than that. You’re lucky, I just went to town last week and managed to find vitriol. I can make you a superior swallow drink, just…stay still.”

Quiet mumbles tumbled from your lips as you worked: measurements, ingredients, small musings as you set aside all the components to begin assembling them upon your alchemy table. Plants like white myrtle, celandine, crow’s eye fell into the bottle of enhanced swallow you already had on hand; you added fruit, nothing too exotic, just the common berbercane, and finally the blue tinted vitriol powder.

You eyed the hunter as you mixed the potion, swirling the now red liquid within the high neck of the bottle, speeding up the mixing process with a little magic of your own. Only he would have such insouciance concerning a fight with such a wicked creature. He was talented, perhaps not as much as the more legendary Witchers that roamed the lands, but Ushijima was strong, sturdy, nimble and smart when in battle. His stoic nature allowed him to distance himself from the horrors of his life, a life you knew he had not chosen.

He was an orphan, brought up by the Griffin School and transformed into a monster hunter without much consent, though you knew he had none to give. But he wore his profession like a badge of honor, looking at his life through a lens of helping those who could not help themselves in a world infested with demons, ghouls, and humanoid monstrosities.

You’d always wanted to admit how admirable you found him, but you knew he was never one to take compliments.

Standing next to where he was patiently sitting, you offered him the small bottle, the glass precariously dangling in your fingers.

“Take this,” you pulled the flask away just slightly as he reached for it, “but only after you tell me what the hell you were doing fighting a Hym.”

“You said it yourself, I get worse every moment I don’t drink that.”

“You’ve lasted an hour, Ushi,” you chided, “I think you can take a few moments to tell me why there was a Hym near Blaviken.”

You sat the bottle back on the table, moving to stand behind him and press the towel around his shoulders a little tighter into his neck. He gave you a contented sigh, eyes closing. He never liked to talk about his work, but you always pressed him. You lived in this monstrous world as well, had killed a few drowners while walking along the sands, aided an earl with a botchling, once even made friends with a rather tempting succubus. Everyone in this world was plagued by wretched creatures, he was just more qualified to kill them with his training and silver swords.

Your fingers pressed into the soft cloth around his neck, picking up the fabric and using it to brush against his hair and continue drying the damp spots still lingering around his ears, the back of his neck. You normally weren’t so blatant with your affection for him, but you knew you had him as a captive audience within the chair. He’d have to tell you his story before earning what he desired, but you might as well humor him with soothing touches while he did.

“Hyms are nasty things, you know. Demons that feed off the guilt of others.” He began.

“I found a note from a daughter in distress about her father on a notice board not too far down the road. He was going mad, she wrote, she thought perhaps he had become possessed. I did some searching in their house, found love letters tucked away under the old man’s mattress addressed to his sister-in-law. He wanted her, he loved her, so he killed his own brother to have her. But then she threw herself into the sea from her own grief; I think the Hym could’ve gotten to her first, then transfixed itself onto the man.”

“Hm, the things we do for love.” You mused, hands coming to rest on his shoulders once again.

Somehow, he felt stronger, broader than the last time you’d touched him. You sunk your fingers into the sinews on display in his damp shirt, humming to yourself. You’d thought about this before, about having the strengthened hunter sit vulnerably before you, only your thoughts involved the two of you in much less clothing and talking of much less rotten things.

You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the sketches you’d seen of Hyms in bestiaries. They were murky, shadowy beings, devilish horns upon their faceless heads, long black claws dripping from their hands. You would have cowered at the sight of such a creature, yet Ushijima sought out to destroy it.

His gruff voice continued on, “I confronted the man, called out the Hym, and it began to attack. Its claws are long, it scratched me from the very beginning. But it’s gone now, perhaps banished to the dark realm from whence it came.”

You plucked the bottle from its resting place, handing it to Ushijima over his shoulder. He took it with a simple thanks, head tipping back as he drank the entirety of its contents. You watched almost gleefully at his thick, irresistible neck on display. Everything about him was so strong, so well kept, even as he sat before you dampened from a storm.

“You know, Ushi, I could listen to you talk like that for hours.”

“Oh yeah? Then maybe I’ll stick around for a bit this time, let you listen to all my seedy tales.”

“Mhm, they’re only seedy when that bard friend of yours is around. Is he still alive? Tendō, that is.”

A flash of red hair and a catlike smile flashed before your mind’s eye as you thought of the dangerous, yet comical bard who often clung to the Witcher’s side.

Ushijima laughed, clutching at his stomach as you circled his chair and came to stand before him, arms crossed delicately in front of your body. Your figure cast a silhouette across his own, making you seem larger than life in the firelight. He was enraptured in the inky vice of your shadow.

“Yes, somehow he is still alive. Last I heard of him, he’s off singing songs in the capital of Redania to some rich heiress.”

“Good to hear,” you shrugged, “I always liked him.”

“No, he always liked you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the action sending you into a fit of giggles as well. “And I can’t blame him.”

Your laughter subsided at his words, a warm tingle spreading across your body. Normally Ushijima was not one to flirt without the aid of alcohol; perhaps you’d given him more than you thought in his tea earlier? You watched him relax in his seat, lifting his shirt to reveal a quickly fading wound upon his tawny skin, the old blood sinking back into the muscle where it belonged.

Thunder rumbled outside the walls, a heavy boom resounding from the gods above.

“You should bathe, Ushi.”

“What, do I smell?”

He was suddenly so playful, so charming, his grin making you feel flustered.

“You will soon, I’m sure. Go beyond those doors,” you pointed over your shoulder, “It’s a heated pool, one of the reasons I chose this god forsaken estate.”

“Will you join me?”

You took a pause. This man was always making you pause, making you step back and evaluate your words and actions around him. Surely, he was joking. But the gleam in his bright eyes told you a different story, there was more lingering behind his words that you did not yet understand.

“I will, but only after I take a peek at those books you brought me. Now, off with you.”

You brushed by him as he stood, arms stretching above his head, his body shifting as he evaluated the healing wound upon his flesh. His heavy boots clunked against the floorboards as he followed your command, the sound of an enhanced predator marking his path. He slid through the door at the back of the great room and left you alone once more.

You would’ve been ashamed if he saw how quickly you rushed to his bag, gathering the cold, dusty books in your arms before setting them gently on the table. They were relics, ancient, undoubtedly hiding secret runes and magic within their spines.

Your fingertips brushed over the titles of the four books he brought you, but despite being entranced by the knowledge lying in wait for you, you were imagining your fingers to be elsewhere. You flipped one book open, your nails following the lines of ink, but your mind took in no words you read.

You were somewhere else; you were mentally with Ushijima, your fingers back in his hair, your hands exploring places unknown to you on his skin. He was the well-guarded book you desired to read, to hold, to explore.

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Ushijima was astounded by your bath. He knelt to the stones on the ground, using his keen senses to feel the heated rocks and look for their source. There were some offshore vents that were connected to this place, feeding in warm water to the bath. He took in a deep breath, smelling the lingering hint of salt in the air, but the scent didn’t entirely match the ocean.

He dipped his fingers in the water, finding it smooth, warm, unsalted. You must have put magic in place to filter all the sediment from the pipes. You always were clever, even in the smallest of ways. Your wit was something he admired about you.

He took his time undressing, his ears perked as he heard you rustling paper in the other room. He had felt embarrassed at first about being so sentimental towards you; he had known from the beginning of his journey that any tomes he found would be placed into your care for you to enjoy. He’d read them, of course, the journey from Kovir and Poviss still a long one to the border of Redania where you lived. As he divulged himself in the ancient knowledge of his Witcher school, he always pictured you reading the same words he did; he felt your presence nestling into his skin, enveloping him like a magic spell. He liked to imagine how you’d react to the pages, how many notes you would scribble down from certain intriguing sections.

Ushijima thought about you more than he cared to admit.

Naked, he stepped into the bath, his screaming muscles finally silenced under the hot press of water against his body. The bathing pool had a ledge around its border, and he took a seat at the back, arms spreading out like heavy wings along the rocky edge. He sat where he could watch the door; it was instinct, he told himself, to always be aware of his surroundings, but he knew he was just waiting to glimpse your figure appear before him.

Some nights, when preparing his tent under the stars, he would think of the first time he met you. He had traveled with Tendō to some opulent gathering in Toussaint, one filled with wine and vampires he knew were hidden amongst the crowds, but any thought he had of a hunt had vanished when he saw you. You were delightful, enchanting, eye-catching amongst the throngs of people. It didn’t take long for his friend to seek you out, to gain your friendship, and Ushijima watched patiently from the sidelines, watched how you held yourself with such poise and dignity. But all the while, he was aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to know you.

You had become his guilty pleasure over the years, a fantasy he envisioned as he lay alone at night. Even when he was meditating, he was hard-pressed to not find himself seeing your skin behind his eyes, imagining how your body would feel within his hands. The hands of a killer, a fiend, hands that crushed whatever he held all too easily. But you, you were so powerful, so seemingly untouchable, and he found himself unworthy to behold you. He was just another creature, a man turned monster, someone wholly undeserving of a divine sorceress.

He huffed to himself, a shy smile pulling at his cheeks as he thought of your words from earlier.

“The things we do for love.” He repeated the words to himself, sinking a little deeper into the water.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to enter. He was unexpectedly aware of his nakedness as you entered, fully clothed still in your corset and trousers. He felt heat rising to his cheeks, spreading down across his belly, at the prospect of watching you change; it would be impolite to ogle you. He turned his gaze instead to the water, watching how the surface lapped at his skin as he shifted his weight.

“Are you comfortable?” You called out to him from across the room. He could hear your clothing shuffling, hear the laces coming undone one by one from your body. The room felt quiet, the air smothering. He’d felt so bold earlier, but now he felt almost ashamed that he had asked you to join him.

“Ushiwaka,” you implored with a little more strain to your voice, “don’t tell me you’ve gone shy on me.”

His gaze shifted up for only a moment, catching a glimpse of your naked back as you peered over your shoulder at him, your hands ready to pull down your breeches and become fully naked. He couldn’t help himself, he gawked at your beauty, tracing every curve, line, and dip across your splendidly sculpted skin. You looked more beautiful than any constellation he pointed out with his finger in the night sky. He unabashedly gazed at the planes of your shoulders, the gentle slope of your spine. He imagined taking his time to map the uncharted waters of your body, of discovering every hidden cosmos tucked away within your curves.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, “I think I’ve become even more comfortable at the sight of you.”

He held his breath for a moment, waiting for your reaction. Upon seeing you smile and turn your face away, he sighed, sinking deeper into the pool, arms barely keeping him afloat from where they rested on the edge.

He heard splashing as you waded into the water, submerging yourself up to your neck before you came to sit just a few feet away from him. From here, he could study you more closely, see the elegant slope of your neck into your shoulder. He was pleased to note that he could still make out the form of your breasts in the water, the lovely globes just barely dipping out of sight.

“I must say, even in the given circumstances, you’re still a sight for sore eyes.” He always loved how silky your voice was, always melodious to his ears. He always worried he’d forget how it sounded, but your timbre matched the tone he had been playing in his head since he last saw you.

“I haven’t heard the name Ushiwaka in a long time,” he confessed, “it’s always Witcher now, or Ushijima of Velhad since that’s where I did most of my work.”

“Well, you lost that name—Wakatoshi—a long time ago when you were picked up by the Witchers, but I know it is sentimental to you still. If you prefer, I can just call you Ushijima.”

“You know I don’t mind it.” He felt like he said the words too quickly.

“Hm, well, I’ll call you anything you let me, Ushiwaka.”

A shiver hit his body at your words, he was keen enough to know there was innuendo laced behind them.

______________________________________________________________

You closed your eyes, head leaning back against the warm stone as you allowed the steamy water to wash away the grime of the day. You moved your hands over your body, feeling the sticky sweat melt away. You reached for a small towel, tossing one in Ushijima’s direction and watching how he caught it so effortlessly, like a cat swatting at a shadow on the wall. He received a small bar of lavender soap with the same ease, his nose wrinkling at the flowery scent.

You both took a moment to wash, you humming an old tune, Ushijima remaining silent aside from the sloshing of water made from his heavy limbs beneath the surface.

You’d never been in such an intimate space with him before. A bath is time of solace and cleansing, but also one of exposure and susceptibility. Water intentionally brings forth feelings of intimacy and ambivalence. You knew he was there, watching, his heightened senses attuned to every sound, smell, every minimal movement around him. You couldn’t take his silence any longer.

“I—,” you began quietly, “can I ask you something?”

His movements ceased, those radiant eyes now focusing entirely on you. You instantly felt heat spread across your chest, climbing up and darkening your ears with blush. You wondered for a moment if he could see through you, in you, see how fast your heart was pounding blood through all your veins. His intense stare made you feel like he was closer, his deadly hand wrapped acutely around your heart, aiding it as it struggled to beat harder, faster.

“Of course.” His words were direct, poignant, the deep vibrations almost tingling the water itself.

“When you were facing that Hym, at any moment, did you fear it would sense your grief?”

You could tell he was taken aback by your words. He placed the wet cloth to his chest, his long fingers digging into the fabric as he pondered what you said.

Once again, he wasn’t sure if he should simplify the truth. He mulled over your question, let the words seep into his consciousness as he looked up to the ceiling. He should’ve known you were astute enough to see through him.

“Yes,” he stated, “I did.”

He didn’t wish to elaborate any further, but he could tell his curt response didn’t satisfy your internal reasonings.

“I see.” You noted somberly.

“How did you know?”

He watched you slink farther under the water, searching for cover, searching for a way not to express your thoughts. He noticed how your legs crossed beneath the surface, the light from the hanging candles glittering through the water.

“I know you didn’t choose this path, didn’t choose to be a Witcher. That was forced upon you; you were lucky you even survived the Trial of Grasses that made you into what you are—.”

“A monster.” He interjected flatly.

“You’re not…” you sighed, dipping your head into your wet hand, “you’re no monstrosity, Ushi, not even a miscreation.”

He tensed at your words, catching how you regarded him with a solemn look.

“I didn’t choose a life of sorcery, you know. I was torn away from society when I was a girl, taught to use my source of magic to heal wounds, but also how to kill someone in an instant. People…powerful people used me to their advantage. It’s why I stay hidden now, I’m running from my past misdeeds. I know what it is like to have regrets; to grieve.”

He only nodded in understanding, afraid of using the wrong affirmations.

A heavy silence fell between you once again. You plucked the soap from its resting place behind you, thoughts tumbling through your mind like the waves crashing at the shore outside. So many words were desperate to leave your mouth, to be birthed and said and made into reality between you, but you dared not.

If anyone understood the weightiness, the hidden meaning behind silence, it was Ushijima.

But even he couldn’t bear it much longer. He grunted, running his wet hands over his face as he contemplated his next move.

“Well, tell me this. What would you be if not a sorceress?”

“Hm? Oh, I’ve never thought about it before. I’ve just…always accepted my fate.”

“I’d have been a sportsman,” he declared, a slight uplift in his voice.

“Oh really?” He watched as a grin pulled at your cheeks, the heaviness of the conversation before dissipating. “And what sports are you good at, Ushiwaka?”

“Anything with a ball,” he shrugged, “some kids down south play games with poorly strung nets, and they do their best to keep the ball from hitting the ground as they toss it back and forth. I think I’d be quite decent at it; I am agile, after all.”

“Powerful, too.” You remarked.

“You think so?” He teased.

He eyed you carefully as you set the cloth and soap aside.

You began to move... towards him. His eyes narrowed, his hands mimicking your actions and setting his bathing instruments to the side, freeing his hands.

You were ethereal in the water, gentle waves lapping at your skin, the ebb and flow of it shimmering around your body.

“Now that I think about it, I know what I would at least be proficient as if not a sorceress.”

The smirk that tugged at your lips intrigued him. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out for you, taking your arms and pulling you towards his chest.

“And that is?”

Time stopped for a moment as you settled yourself into his lap, the sound of your breathing, the feeling of skin upon skin, touch upon touch, the only increments of time needed.

His body was so hot, so willing to accept yours upon it.

“I’d be a wonderful whore.”

Golden eyes flickered up to you, lashes low, his lips parted.

“Care to show me?”

Your skin was cold to his warm touch, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks. He was so close, so eager, you could feel hardness begin to form between where your thighs cradled his.

Your hands slid across his shoulders, feeling the grooves and puckers of scars pass under your touch. You settled your grasp onto his neck, steadying yourself above him. His hands played against your skin under the water, the heavy fingers finding your hips and sinking into the smooth flesh he found. You gasped aloud at the feeling; his grip was strong, iron-clad, daring to leave marks behind. You wanted to break under his touch, collapse against his chest and allow the water to pull you both under into euphoria, but you secured your inner desires. Your back straightened, your fingers clawing into his thick skin.

“Ushiwaka,” you whispered it like a humble prayer, your lips brushing his, “kiss me.”

He groaned, pulling you a little closer, spreading your thighs a little wider.

“Why don’t you kiss me, little temptress? Show me how much you want me.”

You felt bewitched, wondering for a moment if he had placed you under a mind control spell with his words. Your thoughts were jumbled, but they were still yours: kiss him, touch him, read the hidden words on his inky pages like you had long desired.

Your lips met his tenderly, hesitantly, tasting the salt of water and sweat against his awaiting mouth. He breathed through his nose like he was exhaling life into you. He moved his mouth against yours, testing you, pushing at you, and effortlessly you gave in. Your eyes were closed, but you felt like you could still see him, felt like you knew every step in the dance he was leading you in. It felt so natural, so smooth, and you found yourself clinging to him with every press of his lips against yours.

Then his mouth fell open; an invitation. You followed him, sliding your tongue in, finding his own past his teeth. He felt like true sin, his tongue tempting yours to reveal its secrets to him. It was slow, methodical, a mutual exploration of tastes and pleasures you had both long craved to discover.

Your chest fell to his, your breasts meeting the hard planes of muscle found there. You moaned, the sound of water moving igniting your hunger as one of his hands meandered up your back, fingers lapsing into your soft muscles. He offered you a groan, and you took it desperately, hastening your kiss and plunging you both deeper into one another. One of your hands wandered from his neck, slipping down his chest, pressing him back against the edge of the pool. Your nails pulled at his flesh, wanting, needing, unknowing how to gain purchase against such solid muscle.

He tasted like tea leaves: earnest, alluring, but also like the earth, like something natural and primal. It was a taste that was familiar, enticing, and every time he took a moment to breathe, you found yourself diving back in for another taste, another glimpse of what lay hidden beyond his lips.

“Mhm,” he moaned as he finally pulled away, chest rising and falling, “perhaps I’ll mold you into my own personal whore.”

“I’d like that, Ushiwaka.”

The blood within his veins rushed to his cock at the sound of his name, of that personal name, falling from your sweet voice. Fuck, he would give anything to have you, but it seemed that he didn’t have to. He could feel by the way you clung to him, by the way you kissed him with such fervor, that you desired him all the same. It was thrilling to know you wanted him, and he wondered how far he could take you.

His hand glided away from your back, circling around to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts in his hands, holding back a groan as he felt the weight of it within his palm. He watched how the water lapped at your skin, the ripples from his movement brushing against a hardening nipple. The small sound of delight that left your lips had him refocusing his gaze to your face. You wore a sly smile, your own hand upon his neck tightening in anticipation of his next move.

“I’m a dark man, my love. Hardened.”

He was toying with you, but his words offered some truth. Ushijima had been envisioning you like this for far too long; there many devious things he wanted to do to your body.

You leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his ear, your voice low, “hardened indeed…I can feel you between my thighs.”

He smirked at your words, taking your nipple between his fingers and listening to you gasp as he gave it a simple tug. Your teeth found his ear in response, nipping tenderly.

His eyes fluttered at the feeling; a groan caught in his throat. He wondered if you could sense it. You pulled back slightly, angling your head to give him another kiss. He accepted it gladly, tongue ready to find yours again.

“You can be an obedient little whore, can’t you?” He rumbled against your lips; his words being lost inside your mouth.

You ate the words like you were starved, a hot moan swallowing them down as you felt a shock of pleasure race down your spine. He grunted at your action, the hand upon your breast squeezing in response.

“Yes,” you said softly, as he allowed you to escape his kiss, “where did all your chivalry go, Ushiwaka?”

He smirked as you teased him, his lips dipping to your neck, tongue tracing the lingering water droplets that fell down your skin.

“It’s waiting between your legs.”

It was a growl, the sound of a predator marking his prey, the sound of a man holding back his lusts.

You sucked in a breath, eyes closing as you dipped your head back and allowed him more access to the length of your throat. The hand at your breast squeezed harder, his thumb and forefinger rolling languidly across your straining nipple. You felt like you were lost at sea, the weight of the water around your bodies feeling heavier as Ushijima pulled you into his tides. He was the moon, pushing you, pulling you; he always has been. For so long he kept you at arm’s length, toying with you, teasing you, bringing you so close to him but never close enough. But tonight, the moon was waning, his control faltering as he finally gave in and allowed himself to fall into the calling sea.

He held you back on his thighs, but you could feel the heat radiating from his body below the surface. One of your hands trailed down his chest as he sucked dark red marks into the junction of your shoulder and neck, staining your skin with colors from his own making. He bit your skin especially rough when your wandering fingers found the hard lines of his stomach.

You were tentative, taking a moment to feel if his wound was finally gone from the magic bestowed upon him. You could only feel scars underneath your palm, though one felt particularly puckered and new. But his stomach wasn’t your goal, it was what was straining against it.

He cursed into your skin when you wrapped your hand around his cock, fingers pumping against the silken skin within the water. His lips fell lower, his eyes closing as he littered open-mouth kisses against your chest, now using both hands to cup your breasts and bring a nipple within his mouth. You moaned loudly, a rush of ecstasy coursing through your veins. He pulled you forward, forcing your hand away from his cock. Instead, he shifted to where his cock was nestled between your pussy and his stomach, allowing just enough friction to keep you wanting.

He needed to keep his head clear if he was going to please you in all the ways he had dreamt of. He was going to taste you, tease you, earn the right to claim your body as his own.

“Ushi—,” you went to whine, but a calloused pinch to your nipple ripped his name away from your mouth.

“Be quiet.” He demanded against your breast, teeth lightly tugging at your hardened bud.

You only gasped in response, hands smoothing across his broad shoulders as he worked his way to your other breast, hands needy, mouth exceptionally hot. Your hips pressed down and you felt the length of his thick cock against your aching pussy. You experimentally slid yourself against him, desperate to feel more touch against your most sensitive flesh, against the place that had wanted him for so long.

His hands moved to your hips to still you, his vice-like grip returning.

His mouth left your breast, his chin tilting up to look at you. Those glowing eyes were dark, ravenous; perhaps there was something monstrous sleeping inside of him, ready to awaken.

“Stop tempting me. You’ll regret it.”

His reflexes snapped as your lips parted to speak. Two thick fingers slid onto your tongue, pressing it down, the taste of water and leather swirling in your mouth. His taste was a mixture of his worn gloves and the floral soap he’d cleansed himself with. You groaned, head tilting back as you let him have his way, your mouth suctioning around his fingers for some kind of relief.

He eyed you carefully, watching the sinews in your neck come on display for him. Bruising marks of his design were blooming on your skin, little fragments of memories coming to life before his eyes. Your mouth felt like sin and he could already imagine how it would feel to have his cock sliding against the supple lips wrapped around his fingers.

Ushijima twisted your nipple again, a little harder, a little tighter, feeling pleased with himself as he heard and felt the grumble of a groan against his skin. A small drip of saliva trickled down your chin and he used his thumb to smear it into your cheek.

He could’ve held you like this for all eternity, had you pressed against his cock, his fingers padded against your tongue, your beautiful breasts on display as he groped one, watching the flesh mold into his hand. He had you subdued, compliant, a wondrous creature caught in a dangerous trap. He could do anything he wanted to you right here and now, and the realization had his cock twitching against your cunt.

For his own enjoyment, he was going to mark you, leave something behind on the picturesque pallet of your body.

You would never be allowed to forget him, as he knew this vision of you would forever live inside his mind.

He took his time, each bite and suck carefully and meticulously placed. Ushiwaka was never one to use his mouth without purpose, whether it be for his words, or his kisses. Your shoulders, your chest, your breasts, nothing was forgotten, and you felt like you had been sitting on his lap for eons. Each time his mouth curled into your flesh, his hair tickling you, you felt hotter, more alive than before. You pressed down harder against him, searching for some kind of release to the pleasure he was building inside of you. But he had you pinned, a strong arm encircled your back and kept you exactly where he wanted you.

When he sucked your nipple back into his mouth, you cried out against his fingers, your tongue darting between the digits as you sucked a quick breath in through your nose. He paid you no mind, his own tongue licking meticulously at your nipple, up and down, slow and steady. The bliss that erupted from your breast was almost mind-numbing. Your thighs clenched around his, your head lolling back even farther than before. You needed more, you were desperate to feel that talented mouth back on yours, to feel his fat cock slip inside you were you needed it.

Finally, he released you, his mouth leaving your breast as he slipped his fingers from your mouth. You took a moment to catch your breath. He splashed his drool covered fingers in the water, bringing the wet digits back to your face to wipe you clean, his thumb tracing your lips with care.

“See what being quiet gets you?”

You nodded your head in agreement, your nails finally releasing his shoulders where they had been clawing into his skin.

“I need you,” your arms wrapped around his neck, your mouth finding his in a tender kiss, “please, Ushiwaka.”

“You beg so prettily, my love. Perhaps I should have you beg a little more.”

“No! Fuck, please…” you entangled yourself around him, legs curling around his toned waist, your face nestling into his shoulder. You brushed the skin found there with your mouth, hungrily moaning against him. You were frantic; you had already waited for him for so long, thought about him for too many nights, too many years.

His strong arms enveloped your back and he lifted you easily from the water. You adhered yourself to his body, ready to have your muscles clench around him to assist, but he needed no such help. Your weight was effortless to him.

Ushijima used the ledge of the pool as a step, faultlessly exiting the pool like a nautical divinity coming to soft shores. He was cautious as he laid your wet body upon the heated stone, careful not to crush you under his weight. He watched your eyes alight as you took in the sight of him out of the water, now hovering above you. Your gentle fingers traced over his biceps, his shoulders, his chest, finding the constellations of scars upon his skin, his own physical galaxy for you to explore.

He took your face in his hand as one of his muscled thighs spread your legs. You were entranced in his gaze, finding yourself lost in the molten amber of his eyes as his pupils danced across your face. He was taking in every bit of you that he could, burning this vision of you below him into his memory. You were flushed, lips parted, slightly swollen from his ardent kisses. Your delicate hands moved to rest beside your head, palms facing him, submissive.

“Please,” your voice broke him from his trance, “don’t make me wait any longer.”

He nodded in response, eyes tracing down across your body. He relished having you before him like this, back arching towards him, breasts falling, your hips shifting against his legs. The hand on your face trailed away, making a path down your torso, fingers swirling against the lost dewy droplets against your skin. And then he finally peered down farther, having to steel himself from groaning as he found your awaiting pussy.

Your skin was prickling from the cool air meeting it, gooseflesh creeping up your legs, down your arms. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched him, waiting for him. You could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind, though you wished you could know them. What was he thinking? Was he hesitant?

Your own contemplations vanished when his warm, wet fingers spread your pussy, two fingers deftly sinking along the sides of your lower lips. You moaned, eyes fluttering closed, heat pooling within your belly. He took his time exploring you; he was a man of patience, after all.

You could feel his weight shift back as he sat on his knees, spreading your legs across his thighs. He curled one leg back for him, opening you up more for his viewing pleasure. His finger slowly traced up the center of your cunt, finding your sticky wetness coating the digit as it carefully curled against your clit. You let out a quick gasp, hips twitching, and he repeated the motion, watching you slowly come apart from the simplest of touches.

His other hand found his cock, fisting it as he played with you. You could hear the slick pumping of his hand against himself, and you moved your weight upon your elbows to sit up and watch him. Even on his knees, Ushijima of Velhad was intimidating, all broad shoulders and heavily corded muscle across his body. You admired how his arm flexed as he stroked himself, how his toned stomach was clenching with need. Your mouth fell open as you glimpsed his thick cock within his palm. It fit so perfectly in his big hand, throbbing, thick veins calling out to be inside of you.

You wanted to beg for him again, but your words were lost when one of his fingers slid inside of you, stretching your walls to fit around him. You dropped back against the warm stone, mouth falling open.

“So tight,” he said it like a fact, like he expected it, “you’ll feel so good stuffed with my cock.”

You bit into your lip in a whimper as he curled the digit inside of you, pumping it once, twice, with agonizing slowness. But soon, he added a second finger, the thick digits spreading you, testing you. His pace was calculated, fingers pleasurably systematic. You moaned at every twist and plunge, hips arching off the floor to meet his pace. His thumb began to circle your clit and you swore that stars overtook your vision, bursting in the corners of your eyes as you tried to focus on the ecstasy churning deep within your stomach. His long fingers were stroking your velvety walls just perfectly, each plunge feeling deeper and deeper than before, fanning the flames beneath your skin even hotter.

“Ushi, please…”

“Please what, my love? Tell me.”

He was particularly cruel, electing to rub your clit faster, harder, making your words choke in your throat. You cried out, feeling the orgasmic coil begin to tighten in your belly. You were already so strung out for his love, for his touch, and you knew your little death was just around the corner.

“Make me cum, p-please!”

You felt his heavy body come back to yours, the hand on his cock ceasing its movements and instead finding your hand beside your head. His strong fingers wrapped around your flesh, curling into your forearm, thumb tactfully pinning down your wrist to the stones below.

He repositioned the hand between your thighs, now using the palm of his hand to press against your aching clit. His fingers found the soft patch of flesh inside of you, petting against it skillfully, like he already knew exactly what you needed, knew exactly what made you fall apart to his immoral hands.

His face dipped to yours, causing your eyes to flicker open to find his adoring gaze above you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your lips, muffling your moans as your legs began to press against his forearm, thighs begging for the release he could bring you. His mouth matched the rhythm of his fingers within you, his body in harmony with your own, pulling you tightly like the strings on a well-played lute. You were so ready to snap, so ready to sing songs of praise up into him, but all too soon his mouth and his hand left your body.

He could read the bewilderment on your face, feel you try to press back against him, but he held you down easily with the weight he forced onto your wrist.

“I want to feel you come undone on my cock,” he whispered against your lips, “are you ready?”

His hand, now slick from your pussy, pushed your thighs apart wider, curled your legs back farther, his own thighs pressing into your soft flesh. You felt his cockhead brush between your dripping folds.

“Yes! Take me, for the love of all things hol—!”

His hips slammed into yours, his throbbing cock filling you, stretching, pressing you far beyond what you expected. He hushed your cry with his mouth, his hand cupping your thigh and urging your body to move with him as he began to thrust within you. Your hand that he pinned to the floor fisted in on itself, your nails threatening to break your own skin as your mind struggled to catch up with your pleasure. You were so full, so fucking full, so overwhelmed by him.

His dewy, tawny skin felt so sinful against yours, the lingering moisture on your bodies bleeding into one another. His hips were strong, fast, each plunge of his cock going deep, deep, deep into your awaiting depths, finally uncovering every hidden place on your body to have as his own. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, and his sighs melded with yours, his kiss desperate, lips crashing into yours with more fervor than the storm that raged outside.

You felt so utterly lost, yet so wholly encompassed by him, by his earthy scent, by the weight of his body against yours. Your breasts slid against his chest, nipples pebbling as they brushed against his downy hair. Your back was skating against the warm stones below, the pressure against the hard surface enough to make you ache, but it paled in comparison to the jolts of pure pleasure that resounded through your body with every thrust of his massive cock inside of you.

“More,” you pleaded softly, lips peppering him with ardent kisses, “more, more, more.”

You felt him place more pressure on your trapped wrist and you gasped, worried for a split moment that your bones would splinter under his power. But he was cautious, moving your arm gently to rest above your head. The hand on your thigh crept up your body, stopping for only an instant to grope at your bouncing breast. But his fingers quickly moved on, skimming up your other arm, palm smoothing against your dampened skin. He soon found your wrist, now using both his mighty arms to pin your own above your head, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

His words were a dare, a wicked promise.

At the nodding of your head, he smirked, lips coming to your ear.

“Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, you promise?”

His thrusts had never faltered, the air in your lungs still hot from all your heavy breaths. You closed your eyes again, finding your voice.

“I promise.”

The primal sound that left his chest startled you; you could feel the rumbling spread across your body like aftershocks of an earthquake. His hands around your wrists tightened, arms tensing. He shifted forwards, pushing your hips up, legs wider.

And then he began to pound mercilessly into your body. You screamed, the high-pitched shrill echoing within the room, rebounding off the walls, soaking into his naked skin. Every fantasy he ever had of you suddenly came alive inside his mind, burning like a roaring fire, making his vision go blind as he pounded himself inside of you. You were so warm, so god damn tight, your pussy sucking him in with every unbridled thrust that he felt like he would break open from all the euphoria that was crackling within him.

He called out your name, over, and over, and over again, reminding himself who he was with, who he finally had coming undone below him. He was still holding back, too afraid of breaking you, but even still his hips moved faster, harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing in his ears like the constant moans and praises that feel from your mouth.

“Ushi, fuck, fuck, yes!”

He was being cruel, he knew it, slamming into you like this, making your body bow into the floor, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel that coil that was tightening inside of you earlier come to fruition on his cock, he needed to spill his seed inside of you.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel what was happening to you. All your focus was upon his cock stretching your pussy, filling you so perfectly that you knew you’d never want to feel another again. It was like you were made for him; all your limits were being pushed at once. Your wrists ached within his grip, surely bruising under such an immense hold, but you felt secure, safe underneath his power.

Your knees were bent to their threshold of flexibility, your ass now well above the floor as he curled you to fit him. His cock was so deep, his thrusts now remaining almost entirely inside of you, pounding away at your insides like a man gone mad. You were at the borders of your composure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes watering, mouth open, body stinging, longing, begging for him, “g-gonna, gonna, cum!”

“That’s right,” he murmured, tongue daring to skim the shell of your ear, “cum on my cock, baby, cum for me.”

Your nails finally pierced the flesh of your palms as you came completely undone around him, orgasm bursting forth and blooming around you in euphoria. All your senses came crashing down, every small detail becoming more alive and ever present than ever before. It was all so much, the pleasure pooling in your belly and spreading across your body faster than lightning that raced across the sky. His hot breath was against your neck, your legs aching, blood dripping down your palms, water still cooling against your skin, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. You could hear every sound: your screams ringing against the stone, his grunts into your hair, the wet suck of your pussy around his cock, even the still water resting in the pool.

Your body was wrecked with tremors as he continued his ruthless assault, sweat beading at the nape of his neck. Your orgasm drenched his cock with thick, wet slick, encouraging him to drive a little harder, push a little deeper. He heard little pained gasps from your mouth, but he warned you he was corrupt, told you to stop him, yet you were taking him so fucking well, so fucking perfect like he knew you would. He was so close, so painfully close, his cock throbbing, his rigorous pace becoming unsettled as he felt your sweet thighs wrap around him.

Then there it was, the sound of your voice, the sound of his goddess calling to him.

“I want your cum, n-need it, please, fill me up, make me yours.”

He finally crashed, your words like the irresistible call of a siren. Hot cum filled your tight pussy, his cock thumping deep inside your womb. You felt like you could breathe again, his inhuman strength finally laxing upon your ruined body.

His mouth found yours again, his lips tender and now so familiar and welcoming. The tension in your body washed away, his loving hands tracing over your body as he allowed your legs to finally rest. Your heart was hammering in your chest; you could feel every beat inside your rib cage as you finally calmed down, mind returning, body waking up from its lust.

Ushijima slid himself from inside of you, leaving your body with a groan of satisfaction. He watched his cum pool between your thighs, pearl white and stark against the stones. He looked up at you, all of you, admiring your spent body below him. He watched how your breasts heaved with breaths, how your eyes were blinking mindlessly up at the ceiling as you came down from your high.

But then he recognized the bruises on your arms, the bites on your chest, the indentions of the stone upon your sides, the bloody nail prints in your open palms. He cursed himself, cursed his monstrous hands—he knew he was never meant to hold you, that he was unworthy.

“I hurt you.”

His simple words brought you back to reality.

You sat up then, stretching your body as you came face-to-face with him once more.

“Oh please.” You chided, a smile forming on your face as you cast a simple spell within your torn hands. He eyed you curiously as the blue tinge of magic twisted within your palms, your small wounds closing, even the marks upon your chest healing to a more reasonable color. They were still there, the small reminders he created, but they would fade on their own in a few days.

You took his face in your hands, thumbs caressing his handsome cheeks.

“No more grief, Ushiwaka. Please, for me?”

He only drew you closer in response, cradling you in his arms.

A few words of thanks came forth from his mouth, but you paid them little mind, too caught up in his embrace. You remained entangled in one another for a moment longer, both at ease in the company of each other’s breaths, your heart beats, the feeling of fingers skimming over skin.

“Stay with me awhile?” You questioned softly into his chest.

“Did you think I was going to leave after that?”

“You always leave, you know, at some point.”

“Not this time, my love. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

You both felt the pull then, the same tug that you had both longed to feel for so long.

You were at home.

Ushijima pulled you to your feet, wordlessly leading you to get dressed and follow him back into your great room. You saw the books still open on your desk, forlorn and nearly forgotten.

He settled back into the chair after stoking the fire in your pit, bringing the flames back to life. He stretched out, yawned, and appeared wholly comfortable there, magnificent arms crossed upon his chest.

You could get used to seeing him there, and you knew little by little, he’d allow you to read his pages, too.

_______________________________________________________________________

Note: I don’t own anything from Haikyuu or the Witcher Universe.

Taglist: @badtimechara @present-mel @sgoldberg1997 @donica95 @hi-itsbonny @linestrider @shoutosplaything @kyberhearts @dhyaena @heyybrittannia @thisisthehardestthing @presmiic @kittifer @lemonsqueexx @iwaizumi-chan @kitten-on-ecstasy @dekulover @thatpeachybandgirl @skincrepe @whats-her-quirk @littlewhitefairy7777 @unboundbnha @tinitimesims125 @disasteren @misfitgirlwrites @tsum-samu @pineappleinmyass

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #fantasy au #witcher universe #the witcher #ushijima headcanons #ushijima wakastoshi fanfic #the smut pile collab #server collab

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metagalacticx · 2 years ago

Note

Character: Tracy

Josh

tracy

How I feel about this character: my babygirl. 2nd fave horror girl (only after lydia). she made s05 so fun! she was so tragic! so haunted!

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: lydia. just… think about it for a second, i’m right, right?

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: lydia, josh, mason

My unpopular opinion about this character: i do not think tracy had feelings for theo raeken. the annoying little trashbag was manipulative and she clung to him not just for survival but because she looked at her options and she actively chose Evil. she’s just a girl with daddy issues and theo literally gave her life (the green serum kind). what else was she supposed to do?

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: i genuinely wish she would have haunted theo. like him seeing tara was good i liked that but he should have been haunted by tracy. i wish she was brought back just to beat him up, even if he just imagined it was happening for real. tracy didn’t deserve to die but her death should have served a greater purpose.

Favourite friendship for this character: josh (they’re besties they told me so themselves), mason (they’re childhood acquaintances they told me so themselves), lydia

My crossover ship: n/a

josh

How I feel about this character: josh my tragic bestie.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: none, he’s aroace™️

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: corey, tracy

My unpopular opinion about this character: he is actually so caring? do you guys know what he did to save corey? do you guys remember that he helped kira? do you guys know he SAVED corey??? also that comment he made that theo should have let him stay dead should have been a bigger deal in canon!! in that same vein his ‘do it yourself’ defiance was legendary!! it’s a show about packs and ‘i’m your alpha’ because some guy with a god complex stuck something into your flesh, the illusion of free will and being used and manipulated but josh said UH UH, not me. he died for that.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: hmm, i wish we could have seen him interact with tracy and corey and hayden more. and maybe him pissing off theo just for the hell of it.

Favourite friendship for this character: corey, tracy (i swear it’s canon that they’re besties, dude trust me) also mason but that’s just me being self-indulgent

My crossover ship: n/a

#asks #thank uuuu

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twelfth-harbinger · 4 years ago

Text

A/n: Greetings! Request away! Here’s a sample of my writing! Just a few cute head cannons I’ve been dreaming up! — I plan do Liyue next! Enjoy ^^!

Nightly Routines — Monstadt

Warnings: None! All Sfw!

Mentions: Bed time routines and nightly activities!

Lisa

She likes to read before before bed, I suppose this is not much of a surprise but alas...

How could she not allow herself to be lost in the sweet confines of a book in the late night hour?

If she is not reading — the Purple Rose is experimenting with an array of different ingredients.

Crafting potions... she so eagerly wants others to try.

“Come now, these are just harmless concoctions. Nothing dangerous cutie. Nothing that a Calla Lilly won’t heal.”

Sometimes she’ll read Klee a book before her bedtime.

Reading with company like Klee is always a treat.

Lisa likes to “save energy”, with all the book keeping work she has to do during the day.

Hunting down those who have overdue books.. at night is so taxing.

She’s usually in bed early to be ready for the next day to come.

Sometimes she’ll have long talks with Jean about miscellaneous things that happen throughout their day.

It’s very relaxing and Lisa gives great advice.

Klee comes up a lot she just worries about those bombs..

Jean

She’s doesn’t really have a bed time routine.

She falls asleep at her desk instead of in a proper bed. It worries Lisa and Barbara.

What’s sleep? She’s always up late into the night doing paperwork “It’s exhausting just looking at the work pile” — Kaeya

Though, when Jean is able to finish up for the day without any issues, she likes to take the time to soak in a hot bath.

She stays inside for as long as she can.

It simply relaxes her muscles and relieves any tension the day might’ve given her.

Lisa joins her sometimes, seems that woman gives her peace of mind.

When she’s all tucked in at night she enjoys indulging in books akin to Lisa.

Reading tales of legendary heroes. Her favorite being the King of Khaenri’ah.

Honestly, she does not like sleeping. She has asked Lisa for a potion that keeps her awake.

But, when she finally does wish to sleep she has a hard time doing so and well...asks Lisa for aide.

Lisa reads her a bedtime story too or rather she tells her stories about the strong and admirable people she has met at Sumeru Arcademia. — This occurs during their long late night talks.

Kaeya

He wouldn’t be Kaeya if he didn’t have a glass of wine before bed.

He’s enjoys the company of Lisa from time to time they will share a glass.

Before going to bed and leaving for the night, he checks in on Klee.

He makes sure she’s alright but, that’s usually only after she has caused trouble for Jean that day.

Those pointers seem to go to waste. Pls don’t report him.

Kaeya likes to take his time before getting into bed.

He usually takes off his clothes and strips down to his bottoms. Or naked

Yes, he removes his eye patch but, only his reflection has seen what lies underneath.

Kaeya stargazes as he enjoys his nightly glass of sparkling wine.

Once he has had a few and they’ve warmed his insides, he’ll take a cool shower to regulate his body temperature.

It relaxes him more than a hot bath or shower would.

When he’s out falls asleep fairly quickly.

Diluc

He does not sleep much.

Given his nightly rounds keeping Monstadt safe from any posing threats, overseeing Monstadt’s wine industry and running the Dawn Winery...

Diluc escapes sleeps like Houdini.

Not that he wants to but he simply doesn’t have the time.

Like his voice line for relax is literally “Guess we can rest for a bit” like he didn’t have any plans on doing that before lmao poor Diluc.

He cares about the safety of Monstadt and her people.

Kaeya may be an ass at times but, he can tell that even he worries about his lack of sleep.

When he does have a moment to relax, he will play a round of chess with his butler while drinking grape juice.

He likes to drink that before bed instead of wine in difference to Kaeya.

Diluc often gazes at the collection of artwork he has around the manor.

It’s so intricately detailed, many thoughts and emotions were sewn into each of the piece by its maker. He notices it all.

He does all these things because he’s so used to being up for long periods of time that when it is finally time to rest his head. He’s up doing these idle things.

Diluc lies in bed for a long while before drifting off into a restless sleep, before he even realizes it — sometimes the sun rises and he needs to work yet again.

Klee

She’s never truly tired when her bedtime rolls around.

Always doing bomb experiments inside of her “room”

The guard that stands outside her door is genuinely scared they’ll get blown up...again.

Jean has to confiscate everything so she goes to bed on time.

Lisa will read to her for a while.

Her voice is so sweet and soothing it’ll easily put her to bed.

Klee keeps Dodoco close by when she’s tucked in.

She never sleeps without it, she also sleeps with a bomb right next to her.

It may not be a good idea to surprise her in the middle of the night.

For everyone’s safety lmao.

After a long day of treasure hunting with Bennett or being saved from a disaster by Razor. Klee will fall asleep quite easily.

Amber

She has a lot of energy even before bed.

So, to tire herself out she will go for a nightly run or jog in and around the city of Monstadt.

She will also glide around from time to time up by the church.

Feeling the night wind in her hair is a nice stress reliever.

She may not sleep right away, she wanders around the Knights HQ and often sees Lisa up reading if she isn’t sleeping.

She may also check in on Klee, she doesn’t really like her being inside that confinement cell.

If she isn’t doing that, she may go on a nightly hunt before bed too.

Just so she can cook up a good breakfast in the morning.

All that energy needs to go somewhere.

She’ll eat moon pie before bed, she knows it’s not good to eat and then go directly to sleep but... it just tastes so good!

Barbara

Outside her room everyone can hear her humming to herself.

The acoustics in the cathedral are top notch she sings there are night when it’s empty.

Bennett often walks in covered head to toe in scraps and bruises.

Nearly scares her half to death. She heals him of course.

In her pjs’s Barbara sits in front of her vanity, singing to herself as she brushes her hair.

She has a melody to go along as she counts each brush stroke.

She checks in on Jean to make sure she’s not working herself to death.

Some nights she helps Jean to a proper bed.

If she isn’t sleeping during the late night hour she may be performing at the Angel’s Share.

Diluc frowned the entire time.

Her performances tucker her out and she sleeps as soon as she sees her bed!

She’ll take a bath first though and sing there too. Barbara will never stop singing!

Fischl

When she’s alone out adventuring on a quest Fischl can relax a bit more.

She sits under the illuminated night sky with Oz, gazing up at the stars.

Dreaming of far off worlds with the company of Oz by her side.

She can break character in front of him.

She lets her hair out and takes off the eye patch when she’s not in front of people.

She brushes her fingers through her hair a few times to allow it to fall freely. Only to pick up one of her favorite novels.

Always manages to read herself to sleep until or until the sun rises.

She reads a lot of fantasy novels and of course makes sure to return them on time.

Fischl spends her time in the adventures guild usually until the late night hour.

It’s a bit hard to understand her word choice but everyone there tries to be nice about it.

It’s a good thing Oz is there to translate.

Fischl is one for walks through the city of Monstadt at night, well that’s when she usually returns from her adventures outside the city.

She’s tired then and will quickly fall fast asleep, she’s more of a day time bather than a night.

Diona

She spends her nights bartending.

If she’s not busy making delicious drinks...

She’s out in the wild searching for ingredients to make a concoction with a horrid taste.

All in efforts to bring down the wine industry in Monstadt.

She has her reasons but, she dares not to speak of them in front of anyone and especially with Diluc around. — Seems he has eyes and ears everywhere?

Diona is an excellent bartender in fact, she’s so good at her job that the people who frequent there are there for her!

Her nights consist of entertaining the guest at the Cats Tails whilst also making drinks.

It’s fairly tiresome but when the night is over she goes home.

Not to sleep no, but to try and come up with a drink that will utterly topple the wind industry.

If she comes to a standstill, Diona will go out and ask around about the things people would most hate to drink.

When she does sleep, she will crawl into the comforts of her own bed. Doing nothing but stretching to get comfortable as she moves to rest.

Which seems to occur when the sun begins to rise. She sleeps throughout the day so that she can focus on her job at night. — that is unless she’s asking around to feed into her plans. One may see her during the day!

Razor

Will always watch the moon and star lit skies before he falls asleep.

He does this while keeping watch.

He checks on his lupical throughout the night too.

Just to make sure they’re all sleeping easy and peacefully.

Will sit and eat meat casually letting his feet dangle by the cliff side.

He honestly doesn’t do much before falling asleep.

Razor think about a plethora of things though before it tires him out.

How he’s not a real wolf mainly — it saddens him.

In any case he enjoy going to bed with a full stomach.

If he’s feeling restless, he will go for a run as well.

All that excess energy disappears once it’s concluded.

After that he’s too tired to think about anything else other than sleep.

He smells like a wolf and won’t bathe too often — doesn’t see it as a necessity to being a wolf.

If he’s out at night and sees Lisa she will make sure he’s clean even if she has to shock him.

Bennett

He sleeps like a baby most times but as luck would have it...sometimes he doesn’t.

It’s mainly when he’s out adventuring.

When he finally drifts off into sleep — not that he does much to prepare for sleep to begin with other than getting comfortable.

Bennett keeps his fire going to stay warm.

It unfortunately attracts hilichurls.

He stays up late trying to defend himself and his treasure from them.

He lost everything once lmao.

When he isn’t out and about, he’s in the guild.

Staying up late taking care of his Dads.

Always makes sure they’re all alright before he even thinks about sleeping.

Bennett, after assuring their happiness and comfort would then rest.

He thinks about death but not in a fearful way albeit, it does cross his mind often at night but he tries not to dwell.

Sometimes his nights are spent being mended by Barbara — he falls asleep at the cathedral too if he’s too tired to move.

It all depends where his adventures have him end up!

Noelle

She cleans before bed, any surroundings that may be out of place Noelle will scrub, sweep and dust until it shines.

She’s often doing errands during the day or helping out with the Knights at HQ.

When night falls she’s fairly tired.

Albeit she does not show it, the hard work she does is quite the energy drain.

She barely lets herself rest often doing the “less dangerous” jobs assigned to her by Jean or Kaeya. All in efforts to keep her safe.

When night falls and she has done everything she could do for that day, Noelle will practice with her claymore crafted by Wagner.

She stays up late trying to refine her skills until she can’t swing anymore.

She may have super human strength but after a few rounds of practice she will get tired.

She likes to soak in a hot bath with geo salts. It’s relaxing and rejuvenating.

The healing properties aide in strengthening her body when she’s exerted herself from a longs day work.

Sucrose

Research.

It takes up her days and her nights.

Lisa is always so insightful to almost everything that she does.

It is very helpful but Sucrose seems to never know why.

She loves alchemy and will often fall asleep at her work station. With experiments bubbling over and materials by her head.

Albedo wakes her only to tell her to go rest somewhere properly — wait for a new day to begin again.

Sucrose uses this time to bathe as well but she won’t soak in a bath for very long she prefers hot showers they’re brisk and warm her up just the same.

She will read alchemy books before moving to rest for the night and sometimes she’ll fall asleep with them in her lap.

Scribbling down notes along the way, she often wakes up in the morning with books and paper scattered throughout her bed.

Mona

She is a night owl, very rarely will someone see her during the day unless she’s shopping for something to eat at Sara’s.

But even then she’ll go out and do that at night if it’s not too late.

She scrys, usually somewhere out in about in one of the forests of Monstadt.

Honestly it’s hard to fall asleep on an empty stomach so she reads the stars like a book until she’s too tired to do so anymore. In hopes of possibly making a breakthrough of some sort.

Astrology being the only thing that can put her to sleep when she’s feeling restless.

She will indulge herself in a few experiments as well, getting “important work” done so that she can further her magical prowess.

Mona can’t discern the origins of a few things in Monstadt — that often keeps her up as night.

She will read star maps while she’s soaking in a warm bath at night before bed.

They float above the water and she turns the wheel in the air with as she proceeds with divination.

Being surrounded by water in a warm bath and their reflective surfaces always helps her see clearly.

Venti

He does not sleep at a set time.

Be it night or day...

It is always random with him.

Not to say he does not get tired but..

Venti does things on his own time.

He stays up drinking through all hours of the night.

He will sit atop his statue within the heart of Monstadt.

Always with an expression on his face that reads that of melancholy and longing.

It is there he falls asleep and it’s not for very long.

He doesn’t do anything to prepare for sleep it simply has to catch him in the wind.

Venti will sing, of tales new and old.

He may even go to the cathedral to see Barbara — he has watched her preform at Angels Share.

He often tries to bum a drink off Diona but never gets very far.

If he’s not in the city he’s out by the large tree you can always find him under.

Writing poetry, songs and playing the lyre.

He will fall asleep doing these things.

It’s there he will sleep the longest and where the sunrise wakes him for the new day.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact venti #genshin impact jean #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact lisa #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact klee #genshin impact razor #genshin impact bennett #genshin impact mona #genshin impact sucrose #genshin impact fischl #genshin impact noelle #genshin impact amber #genshin impact barbara #genshin impact diona

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imaginejamesandsirius · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, the prompt are open again, yeeeaah! First things first: thank you so much for running this blog and for all the work you invest in this, it's really appreciated! Okay, so the prompt: Snow white au? You can make any changes you like, but really Sirius just screams to be Snow White (ebony hair, pale skin etc.) Thank you!

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" the Queen asked. She looked forward to this every time she asked, sure in the knowledge that her enchanted mirror would show her reflection.

Only instead of answering, "You, My Queen," as it always had in the past, it said, "The prince of this kingdom, Sirius." The surface of the mirror rippled, then showed a vision of her husband's son.

Anger roiled in her like a forest fire-- sudden and all-consuming. "What?"

It shimmered away to be a reflection, but it didn't change the answer she had been given. "He is the fairest in the kingdom, as you asked."

She grit her teeth together, her reflection animalistic. "Not for long."

Sirius had run away from his tutor. His maid told him that it was rude, but he had run away from her plenty of times too. His father asked him not to, but his mother always smiled indulgently and said he could do whatever he desired.

It's not as though he was trying to be horrid. In fact, the idea of making any of them mad was the opposite of what he wished, but he wanted to find his own happiness. He would not find happiness-- or even contentment-- locked away in a room in the castle, practicing his letters.

Usually, he ran to the gardens. Today, he went to the forest outside the castle.

He didn't have designs to see the world, but he would quite like to see lands outside the castle walls. He'd only ever seen the forest from atop a tower, and it was certainly more fun to be down among the trees than looking at them from afar.

Sirius spent his time today chasing a rabbit. A useless endeavor, he was well aware, but it was fun to run through the forest with abandon. Unfortunately, he was chasing after it with such single-minded focus that he ran flat into another person as they rounded a tree, knocking both of them to the ground.

"Sorry," Sirius said, scrambling to his feet. He held out a hand to the other man, who took it to ease his way up. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I can feel that quite evidently," he said with a laugh. He smiled at Sirius, bright and open.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. He was looking at Sirius like he couldn't even think of pulling his gaze away. After a delayed moment, he let go of Sirius's hand. "My apologies," he said. "I am Prince James of the Potter kingdom, five leagues from here."

"I'm Prince Sirius of the White Kingdom. Hopefully not a single league from here, otherwise I'm horribly lost."

"Oh, you're Prince Sirius," James said, eyes going round.

"Erm, yes. Why? Not what you expected?"

"No, you're- you're exactly as people say."

Sirius frowned. That wasn’t an answer that made much sense. "What do people say?"

"That you're the most beautiful person they've ever seen," he replied. A light blush crawled up his cheeks, but he didn't look away in embarrassment.

"I thought the only person that said that was my mother," Sirius said honestly.

"Trust me when I say she is far from the only one. Your looks border on legendary these days."

"Great," Sirius said wryly. "I'll just write songs about my beauty, shall I?"

"Of course not. Someone else has already written them."

"Please tell me you're joking."

James shook his head, still smiling at Sirius.

"-and then you hold it like this," James said, helping Sirius position his hands properly along the instrument. He'd brought it along with him at Sirius's insistence the last time they'd seen each other in the woods.

"How do you know all this? We're both princes, and yet you seem to know so much more than I do."

James shrugged. "I’m sure it’s isolated to hands-on activities, such as this. God knows you go through more books than I ever will."

"I read books because they never wish for me to leave the castle." He tentatively plucked at one of the strings.

"Here," James said, proudly presenting Sirius with a bouquet. There were plenty of flowers in the forest, but these weren't native to either of their kingdoms. Sprigs of white fluff framed large red blossoms that were more beautiful than any rose he'd seen.

Sirius felt heat rise in his face as he accepted them. He hated that his skin was so light; his blush was surely visible to James. "Thank you." He brought them up to his nose and inhaled deeply. They were sweet, and so delightful that he wanted to bury his nose in them and never come back out. "These are wonderful. I take it they're from the greenhouse you were telling me about?"

“Indeed,” James said, then he started to explain what they were called and where they were from.

Sirius listened, entranced with the cadence of his voice and the passion with which he spoke.

Sirius put a hand on the back of James's neck and kissed him. He was horribly nervous; he'd never kissed anyone before. But he fancied James, and they'd been meeting in the forest in secret for almost a year now.

There was a small pause as James froze in surprise, but then he tilted his head and wrapped an arm around Sirius, kissing him back.

"Since we're going to be married," Sirius said, "I should be able to visit you soon. Properly."

James smiled, carefully pulling a strand of Sirius's hair out from where he'd tied it back. He rolled it around his finger, gently unwound it so he didn’t tug on his scalp, then tucked it behind Sirius's ear. The long wave of it curved against the hinge of his jaw then fell further, stopping along his chest. "Tired of our forest jaunts, then?"

"Let's just say that I look forward to being in a room with you. Besides," he added a second later, "you've only ever seen me dressed down like this. I always get sweaty walking out here."

James's expression warmed. "As much as I look forward to that too, You know I don't care, right? I'm here for you, not how pretty you can look."

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" Sirius teased, leaning towards him.

"Of course not; I simply wanted to remind you that, even though you're the most beautiful person in the world, I would love you if you weren't."

"Duly noted, My Prince," Sirius said, giving him a quick kiss.

"I have a job for you," the Queen said, folding her hands in front of herself.

The hunter-- a generously innocuous title, considering the type of jobs he did-- ticked an eyebrow up. "Never worked for the royal family before."

"And as far as your friends are concerned, you still haven't. You are being paid for your discretion, as well as the job."

"I'm listening," he said.

"Prince Sirius will be going into the forest exactly an hour after lunch. You are to follow him, kill him, and then bring me his heart."

"Damn, you must hate your son an awful lot to not just poison him."

"That thing is not my son," she hissed. Hate burning in her eyes, she took out a fat coin pouch and heaved it onto the table. She pulled the tie off, and gold spilled across the dark wood. "Do we have a deal or not?"

Fenrir's eyes trained on the gold as soon as it became visible, and his gaze was still on it when he said, "Yes. Do I want to know what you're going to do with his heart?” Word was that the Queen was a witch, and the thought of her eating it was unappetizing, to say the least. “Wouldn't a ring or summat be plenty of identification of a job completed?"

"That's none of your concern," the Queen said imperiously. "I expect delivery tonight." Then she swept out of the room.

Fenrir rolled his eyes. Sodding royals. This is why he'd never worked for them before. But the pay was good-- more than he'd ever seen in one place-- and after tonight, he wouldn't have to see her again, and he was sure she was looking forward to that as much as he was.

The time she mentioned came around, and Fenrir was already in place. The prince walked into the forest, though he didn't look much like a prince at the moment. No jewelry adorned him, and while his clothes were made of expensive fabric, they were made for traveling through the woods, and he had a bag with him that had already seen plenty of use.

Something about this wasn't right. What reason would the Queen have for wanting to be rid of him? She'd called him a 'thing', but he didn't look monstrous to Fenrir-- and the hunter had seen monstrous. When he stepped out in front of his path, the prince startled, then smiled. "Hello there," the prince said.

Fenrir wasn't used to being greeted in a friendly manner. He didn't have the face for it. The prince didn't look at him like he was scary, though. The hunter wished he was scared. It would make this easier. "Hello," Fenrir replied automatically.

"Were you leaving or going further?" the prince asked innocently. It was absurd the way that none of the stories about the prince's beauty had been exaggerated. He was like a sculpture of ivory, expertly carved, and when he smiled, the hunter could swear that the sun shone brighter.

"Going further."

"Would you like to walk together?" he offered. "The journey gets boring on my own."

"Sure," Fenrir said, more of a grunt than a word.

All the prince did was smile again and say, "Great!" like he was truly happy for the hunter's company.

Fenrir let them get far enough into the forest that if the prince screamed or tried to run, there would be no one nearby. Then he grabbed his arm and stopped walking. "I admit, I'm here on business."

Even with the hunter holding onto him, the prince didn't look like he suspected a thing. "What kind of business? I don't think there are bears, or any of your usual fare in these woods."

"The Queen hired me. She wants you gone."

"She..." he trailed off, happy air crumpling. "Me? I'm your business today?"

The hunter nodded, jaw clenched. "You seem a decent sort," he said apologetically. "Maybe you should close your eyes, so it's easier for you."

"No, I-" he tugged ineffectually, trying to free his arm as tears filled his eyes "-I can't. James would be heart-broken. We're supposed to marry."

Fenrir had thought that news of the prince being betrothed would've reached his ears.

"Please," the prince pleaded, looking up at the hunter with large eyes. He stopped trying to free himself for the moment. "I'll leave. I won't return. You can tell my mother that you killed me as she asked, and she will never see me again."

Fenrir thought he had long since lost his sympathy. He wouldn't have made it this far with it intact.

He let his hand drop to the side, and he jerked his head towards the path they had been on. "If you return, I'll have to kill you."

"I won't," the prince said immediately. He wiped at his face. He knew that he should run until his lungs felt like they were going to burst, but with frantic hands, he reached into his bag and pulled out the knife. He'd never used it before, but James had said it wasn't safe for him to travel without it, so he'd carried it. He picked up a handful of hair and started hacking it away. He was too recognizable with his hair this long; he'd never seen someone walking the street with long hair, only nobles.

By the time he finished, there was a circle of thick, black hair around his feet, and the hunter hadn't moved-- he just stood there, watching him.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir." He left. Not running, but making a quick pace. He felt the hunter's eyes on him until he disappeared.

Fenrir didn't know what to think of him. The prince had cut off his hair-- beautiful, long locks of ebony-- as if it was nothing. No, he corrected a second later, not nothing. He'd cut it off because in the choice of life or death, he'd chosen life however he could get it. The kid had called him sir. The hunter sighed and turned to track down a deer. The hearts were similar enough that the Queen wouldn't be able to tell the difference, especially if he mussed it up a little.

Sirius threw himself into James's arms, crying.

James had no idea what was wrong, but he still hugged him and assured him that everything would turn out alright.

After Sirius explained, James said, "It’s alright. We'll get married so you can change your name, and you can stay with us. Your mother will never know where you are. No formal declarations were made, so no one will know."

Sirius gave a small nod. He'd wanted to move to live with James anyways, so this wasn't bad. They'd already decided to get married, so this wasn't a horrible outcome. It was a good one, in fact. It was the one he wanted. He knew that at the end of it, everything would be okay.

It was just hard to see it right now.

James brushed some of his tears away with soft fingers and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "She won't hurt you, I swear it."

"I thought she cared about me," Sirius choked out. She was the only one in the castle that had supported everything he wanted to do. Had it all been a lie? Or had she found her hatred of him recently? Perhaps it didn't matter. No matter how she felt about him or when it had started, he wouldn't see her again.

"Are you going to leave the castle at all while you're here?" James asked, leaning against the doorframe. "I thought you wanted to spread your wings a little."

Sirius combed his fingers through his hair self consciously. "I didn't know if it would be safe."

"I'd be happy to come with you," James offered. There was a genuine smile on his face, though Sirius had never seen him with any other kind.

"You're busy," Sirius hedged, even though he wanted to take James up on it in a flat second.

"I'm never too busy for you, my love. Come on," he said, holding out a hand. "It's a sunny day, and you will only make it brighter."

Sirius didn't hesitate to take his hand.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #fenrir greyback #filled #fusion #getting together #post hogwarts #siriuslystarbucks

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kestrelmando · 4 years ago

Text

Group Therapy - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by thecyndimistuff (@thecyndimistuff ), apollonkondric , and floatingearth about Peli Motto taking Din to a support group for empty nesters post S2.

Warnings/Notes: None, possible a single swear word slipped by. Angsty, introspective Din and space mom Peli Motto taking charge. No romantic pairings, not beta’d please excuse any mistakes until I find them. Couldn’t help to slip a nod my other Mando fic Bird of Prey, Way of War in at the end.

---

He’s tried being useful around – what were they calling it now? Fett’s Palace? – the palace; taking stock of weapons and resources left behind by Jabba and Fortuna. Weapons he’s familiar with; taking them apart, servicing them, and testing them gives him something to keep him busy and keep his mind occupied.

He even took to sometimes mirroring Fennec’s imposing, protective place – on the left on Fett, never the right that was Fennec’s earned spot – on the dais when Fett had meetings because no, you should not fuck with the legendary bounty hunter but especially when he’s got a sharp shooting assassin on one shoulder and another infamous bounty hunter clad head to toe in beskar on the other.

He’s done perimeter sweeps with Fennec, who chooses to humor his morose silence, and with Fett, who also allows the silence but is far less indulgent about it. Oh, Fett never calls him out on it. Quite the contrary, bounty hunter to bounty hunter he can read Din like a book and knew from the moment he returned to the Slave that he was not ok. Still wasn’t ok but that doesn’t stop the occasional long drawn sigh from the older man.

All in all, it took a week for Din to be sent to Mos Eisley to ‘pick up supplies’. He wasn’t stupid; he knew Fett could’ve sent anyone working for him to go on a supply run. He initially welcomed the change of scenery before remembering he’d have to travel hours around the Great Mesra Plateau and his only options of landscape were either endless sand or the red rock formations and canyons.

So Din dutifully took a land speeder and set off to Mos Eisley, trying to ignore the repetitive backdrop that allowed him far too much time to think about his foundling and his accidental acquisition of the darksaber with Fett’s warning still ringing in his ears ‘make sure you take that thing with you’.

---

The supplies, or rather supply, in question was a tiny compressor part for the climate control unit that could fit in his pocket. The vendor had taken one long look at his beskar and held up a bin of the teeny components after Din asked about it and he was done within half an hour.

…Now what?

He found himself following the by now well-known path to Peli Motto’s hanger. She was familiar territory, she was easy to talk to and almost painfully transparent. Perhaps most importantly in this moment; she wanted nothing from him.

The door to Peli’s outbuilding slid open for him and he wandered in, hands painfully empty, and let the pit droids fuss over him. Tatooine’s hot suns greeted him as he stepped into the hanger bay, eyes scanning for the mechanic. The hanger was empty, no parked ship in sight, and the mechanic was elbow deep in a pile of scrap muttering to herself and passing parts and pieces to a pit droid.

Din smiled under his helmet when she tossed a piece of scrap away from her with a huff and it landed near his feet. She turned her head briefly to see where it landed and then whipped it back towards him, hand flying to her heart.

“Stars Mando!” She sat back on her heels and blew out a breath. The mechanic frowned, “Where’s your ship?” Peli stood, dusting her knees and palms off, and took a few steps towards him with a hand pressed above her eyes to block the suns. She looked him over and then stopped dead in her tracks, “Where’s…where is the baby?”

He felt his throat close around any words he was going to say. Peli’s eyes darted around his body; around his hips for the bag, his feet for the little one to pop out around him at any second. She opened her mouth to say something, her face drawn tight, when he simply couldn’t keep up his stoic façade any longer.

A short hiccup, somewhat garbled by the vocoder of the helmet, slipped out followed by a low keen he couldn’t bear to swallow. Din shut his mouth with a snap, a flush creeping up his neck while his hands closed opened and closed around nothing – empty. Peli’s eyebrows rose in concern momentarily before she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before slowly extending her hand towards him. Her fingers closed around his elbow, shoulders losing their tense line when he didn’t protest, and guided him back towards the outbuilding.

Din let her steer him to a small table in the corner and ease him into a chair. She disappeared around the corner momentarily and was back with a bottle of boga noga and two small cups. Peli sank into the chair opposite him and poured a couple fingers the Hutt ale. She curled her hands around her drink and looked up at him, face pinched.

“Just tell me first; is he ok?”

He took a deep breath that sounded strained through the beskar, “Yes.”

Peli visibly deflated as her shoulders sagged in relief, “Oh thank the Force.” She muttered before taking a sip of her ale, wincing a bit.

Despite the lump in his throat, he felt the corners of his mouth quirk upwards in the beginnings of a fond grin. Din swallowed, “His name is Grogu.”

She cocked her head, thinking on the name, and smiled. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and watched the pit droids scurry about the hanger through the viewport. Eventually, she flicked her eyes back up the Mandalorian and asked, “What happened?”

He paused and wondered if it was safe to tell her more than sparse nonspecific details. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; quite the opposite she’d shown herself to be a loyal friend and Din had already entrusted Fett and Shand with the whole story. But Peli was different – she wasn’t a fighter. Still, Moff Gideon was in the custody of the New Republic and Grogu was safe with Skywalker. He supposed it was safe enough.

So he laid it all out for her and once he started he found that he couldn’t stop. He talked about the bounty from the remnant Imperials on Grogu and how the kid had saved his life with the Mudhorn, how he took on the task of keeping him safe as his foundling and out of the hands of those who would hurt him and use him. To their short time on Sorgan and how Grogu terrorized the local wildlife, how he was tasked by his alor to reunite him with other Jedi. Din told her of his meetings with the Jedi Ahsoka Tano and Bo-Katan, interspersed with a quick and bastardized history of the Mandalore.

He had to pause when he got to Tython. His voice was caught in a steel trap in his throat.

Din considered the shot of ale and tipped the helmet back just enough to not spill it all over himself before downing it. He immediately understood Peli’s grimace when she sipped on hers; it was sweeter and fruiter than he was used to but it was unbearably strong. His eyes watered at the burn. Her gaze flicked to his exposed chin momentarily before darting away and she finished hers too, coughing a little.

She rose her eyebrows at him and he knew what she was thinking; I didn’t think you were allowed to do that.

He continued quietly – Tython, Grogu’s capture, and the Razor Crest getting destroyed. Din covered Morak as clinically as he could and felt the need to explain a bit more about his creed to the mechanic. She watched him carefully and frowned when he began to get hung up. Din gestured uselessly next to her, “I – it should have been a bigger deal. It should have meant everything but I – the kid –“

Peli gently laid her hand on his forearm. His helmet slowly turned to look back at her but she held her ground and patted his arm. Din pressed on and spoke of Gideon’s cruiser, the rescue, and his accidental acquisition of the darksaber. He haltingly recounted his goodbye to his foundling and slumped back in his chair when it was over.

The mechanic was silent next to him, her hand light on his arm, before she turned to him thoughtfully. “Mando—“

Why the hell not. “Din. My name is Din.”

“Din, you did what you had to do for the little one.” She looked nostalgic, “Parent’s sacrifice for their kids. You can’t understand it, can’t know what you are willing to do until you have one. He needed you and you stepped up. I don’t claim to know to know much about your people but it sounds like you fulfilled your mission.”

Peli stood then, collecting the empty glasses. “You say you’re out near the Northern Dune Sea? How long will you be here?”

He nodded absently, “No more than a few days. I’m returning to the palace soon—“

She whirled back around horrified, one of the glasses slipping from her fingers, “Jabba’s Palace?”

Din caught it quickly, “Fett’s Palace.”

Peli wasn’t appeased. “Fett? Boba Fett?”

“Yes—“

“That bantha brain owes me money!”

Din chuckled, realizing she more annoyed than afraid. Fett owed her money? That sounded like a story. Peli headed back towards the kitchenette with a huff and Din dutifully followed with the other glass. Peli sighed exasperatedly, “I was the only one willing to work on that ship of his for years! No one else would touch it, it sat in that hanger for years and no mechanic was willing to do any maintenance on it – oh Peli what if he comes back – well, what’s he gonna be more mad about? That someone was poking around keeping it running or that we just let it sit and get taken by the sands?’

She took the glass from him and deposited it in the sink, “I spent five years taking care of that rust bucket! He comes back looking like hell with no credits and says he’ll pay me ‘soon’. When is ‘soon’?”

He didn’t give it a second thought; Fett had given him way more credits than he’d needed to pay for the part and he knew that she would be a good resource for Fett – she wasn’t afraid of him. He reached into his pocket and held the bag of credits out to her. Peli slowly stretched out her hand and took it, inhaling at the weight of it.

“If that doesn’t cover it let me know. I can pass along that you are willing to work on the Slave, it’d be a regular job.”

Peli passed the heavy bag of credits back and forth between her hands, smiling, and then said, “You know…he can wait a little longer.”

---

Why did he agree to this?

Peli turned from the small table housing drinks and snacks and held out a cup of chilled caf to him. Din slowly turned his head and shoulders towards her and, despite not seeing his face, she read his tone.

She frowned, “Oh right.”

The mechanic turned away for a moment, fiddling with something he couldn’t see, and twisted back with a triumphant grin. Peli brandished a long straw and poked him in the shoulder with it when he didn’t move.

“Come on Mando, just take it.”

With a sigh, Din took the straw and caf before reluctantly following Peli into the other room. All the chatter immediately ceased and six pairs of eyes snapped to him as he rounded the corner with her. He didn’t know what he expected, it was the normal reaction to beskar – still his insides felt hollowed out after his talk and something about it stung a little.

Peli, however, paid it no mind and all but dragged him to a seat next to her. The other occupants, some human and some not, stared and waited for an explanation. The mechanic took a bite of her snack, a large cookie, and chewed slowly. She met the confused and frankly frightened looks of the group and took her time to chew and swallow, all the while rolling her eyes at the over the top reaction.

She was never given a reason to be afraid of her Mandalorian, or even Fett despite his reputation, and he’d always been fair and polite. Oh, she knew their reputation – bloodthirsty, ruthless, and unfeeling. But after seeing Mando with the baby, she had done some digging. Tatooine might be in the backwaters of the galaxy but it had a long history and many colorful inhabitants; between the HoloNet and asking around she’d learned a bit.

That child was never in any danger from the Mandalorian, in fact there was scarcely a safer place to be. Mando – Din – had taken him in and done right be him. Still, she knew he had to be uncomfortable in a place like this. She picked a spot facing the door and had already decided on the way in that she’d do the talking.

She brushed the crumbs off her hands, “Sorry we’re late. This is my friend, Mando.” The silence was deafening but she continued, “He doesn’t say much.”

His helmet turned almost unnoticeably towards her and she met his visor. Peli shrugged and rose her eyebrows; am I wrong? The Mandalorian cocked his head in agreement and leaned back into his seat. She sipped her chilled caf and settled in as a human across from them began to speak. She hadn’t brought him here to talk, she brought him here to listen.

He stiffened when she mentioned it back at the hanger, thinking it was a support group for parents whose children had passed on. But when she clarified that it was for parents without their children with them, whether it be they had simply grown up or were temporarily away, he hadn’t seemed any less rigid.

“I – I’m not his father.”

It was the softest she’d ever heard him and she felt her heart clench at the melancholy tone. His fingers twitched anxiously at his sides, opening and closing.

She countered, “You are in all the ways that matter.”

In the end, Mando tentatively agreed to go with her. The pair listened as the group went around with updates or things they did to alleviate the ache of missing their loved ones; some were grown with families of their own, others had moved off-planet, and some were off training at various academies. They talked about how they kept in contact and how they kept busy. Some tended hydroponic gardens, others kept meticulous journals, and still others traveled. He snorted; one sent his alien foundling with a Jedi across the galaxy and took up being a menacing beskar statue behind an infamous bounty hunter who may or may not be the ruler of Mandalore.

Din retreated into his own thoughts, wondering how Grogu was doing with his training. He could almost picture it in his mind; Grogu’s little brow wrinkled in concentration, maybe with his eyes closed if he was really trying, and the Jedi directing him. He imagined the little womp rat chasing – terrorizing – the local fauna and pouting about not being able to eat all the time. Would he still have his mythosaur pendant? Was he happy?

He blinked back to attention when Peli plucked the straw from his fingers and slid it into his caf with a small clink. People were looking at him expectantly, he swallowed nervously before realizing it was actually Peli there were waiting on.

She stood to get another cookie and Mando took the groups distraction to slip the long straw under his helmet. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but a cold drink was too tempting to pass up. Peli settled back in next to him and began to speak, “Well I have some updates,”

Peli broke the cookie in half and continued, “Corjul still hasn’t left Endor. After all that time on Hoth, he just decided that Endor was ‘perfect’ and he volunteered to monitor the shields. I’m not sure there’s much of anything out there but the natives…but he seems happy.”

Din stared under his helmet – Peli Motto had a kid. He supposed it made sense now he thought about it; why else would she be coming to these meetings? The mechanic finished a bite and folded her arms, “I am glad he’s just an analyst, not running around after Empire remnants. “

He sipped at his now lukewarm caf and wondered what her son looked like. Her voice flitted over his head, "Now Briell—“ Din inhaled sharply and his caf slurped loudly through the straw. Two children? Peli glanced at him, amused, “Briell has been settled nicely on Ord Mantell for a while now with her husband. I’m heading there in a couple weeks, my granddaughter is turning two.”

There was a murmur of appreciation from the group, some congratulating and some asking for a holo. He smiled, happy for her. It seemed the meeting was winding down and he took a long drink of his caf to finish it. “And as for Savi—“ Din choked on his caf, coughing and yanking the straw out from under his helmet to press an ineffectual hand against his chest.

Three. Three children Peli Motto had and Din knew nothing about it. Sure, it hadn’t come up in casual conversation, not that he was much of a conversationalist anyway, but certainly it would have come up? Grogu took to her so quickly and he hadn’t really questioned it but now he could see the pieces fitting together. The way she’d fussed over how to hold Grogu, was he getting enough to eat.

“Anyway, Savi is still planet hopping. He sends a holo when he remembers to. Last I heard he was heading to Coruscant to stay with a friend who’s a lobbyist. Still trying to ‘find himself’.” Peli patted his shoulder, “I’ve got this one to keep me busy and he just hooked me up with a steady new client.”

He took Peli’s cup and his own, following her nodded direction, and went to clean them. It was a simple kitchenette and he used as little of the moisture farmed water as he could to wash them out. His mind wandered again and he palmed the metal knob in his pocket; Fett, in between gasping peals of laughter, telling him that he knew exactly who the Jedi was and that Grogu would be safe with him. He wondered if the kid was pulling all kinds of things out of the air by now – Din smiled – he was going to be a menace once he could grab whatever he wanted regardless of where it was.

Peli’s head poked around the corner, “Hey Mando, you ready to head back?”

The Mandalorian nodded and followed his friend back onto the dusty streets of Mos Eisley. They walked in companionable silence, Din’s head on a swivel watching the road as the twin suns began to set. He fingered the comm unit in his pocket, wondering for the umpteenth time when Skywalker was going to contact him about Grogu’s progress. The man said he’d be allowed to visit, that he wasn’t a believer in separating families but still Din wondered.

“You know, Mando, you’re allowed to miss him and be proud of him.” Peli said next to him.

He looked down to her, “Am I?”

She sighed and stuffed her hands into her pockets, “Yeah. My kids all left Tatooine to do bigger, better things. Of course I miss them, sometimes I miss them more than I can stand but I’m so proud of them. I couldn’t hold onto them forever but it doesn’t mean they are gone for good.”

Din sighed, “I understand that. But he’s – he’s so young what if he doesn’t remember me? What if he’d rather stay with his teacher forever? What if—“

Peli grabbed his elbow, stopping them just outside of her hanger. “He adores you, Din. Anyone can see it, he won’t forget you. He’ll do what he needs to and then you and him will decide what’s next. It isn’t forever.”

He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and swallowed the lump in his throat. It isn’t forever, we will decide what to do next. Din followed her into the outbuilding and stopped when he caught the mischievous look on her face. He slowly tilted his head at her, almost afraid to ask.

“You’ve done me a favor with Fett, Mando. I might have a ship you’d be interested in.”

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