#a good portion of our relationship was based around one thing but then you took that thing away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teklarn · 3 years ago

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𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸, 𝓲𝓯 𝓲𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾

character(s): izuku midoriya x gn!reader (x katsuki bakugou)

a/n: gosh i love angst (quick note!! i edit to the best of my ability, however it’s easy to miss things, and i type 100 words per minute, so im sorry if i miss some things!) this ain’t a poly relationship btw, i don’t feel like i could write that well (no shame to people who do!! personally i feel like i would butcher it)

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

based off the song: it’s my party by lesley gore

summary: y/n realizes going to katsuki bakugou’s wedding was a mistake

genre: angst all the way shawties

warnings: light cursing, heartbreak, alcohol, one-sided pining (reader), aged up/pro-hero au, sad reminiscing bc ahaha bakugou made us sad :’) and a crap load of references to the song, friend zoning (eesh)

word count: 2,566

ik yall are waiting for a part 2 of brutal and part 3 of you’re not my boyfriend but this idea just struck i had to get it down pls

- - -

“let’s raise a toast to our finest lovebirds, my best friend and his wife, katsuki bakugou and ochaco uraraka!” kirishima took a sip of champagne.

you lifted your beverage in unison with the others seated at your table but did not drink. you blinked down at the fizzing beverage.

“we wish you all the best,” kirishima said. “you and your best buds have no doubt you two’ll be known as some of the most indestructible symbols of peace.”

another wave of applause passed among the crowd. the last toast was finished and the music resumed. your entire table left you sitting. it wasn’t like you knew anyone here, anyways. nobody except for the few classmates bakugou was still in touch with.

those people consisted of izuku midoriya, who was sitting at the table across from you, as well as across the dance floor.

the lights twinkled up again, red, blue, and green flashing along the floor.

you couldn’t deny it. bakugou in a red suit, uraraka in a wedding dress fell just above her knees, a red bow tied around her waist. you did not doubt that if you were to be sold as a healthy person on the black market, that dress would still be worth more than you.

the only comfort you had was midoriya, who had greeted you when you came in, but the two of you had exchanged no further words. but he looked equally as miserable as you.

uraraka and bakugou were perfect together. they looked happy. and you were happy to see bakugou happy. happy to see uraraka happy with him.

bakugou dipped his newlywed wife to the beat of the music. her back arched perfectly into his large hands.

what hurts the most was that, while you wished it was you instead of her on that dance floor, you knew it wouldn’t work out.

not that you and bakugou wouldn’t have worked out. the two of you were a perfect couple!

what hurts the most was that it was a wish, and in every near universe, you still didn’t have that ring.

uravity and dynamight simply looked...happier.

you stormed out, shaking. why was your katsuki kissing her? holding her when it should have been you?

deep down, you knew you had no right. you and bakugou were barely a couple. throughout his years at yuuei, he’d calmed down immensely. so much that he could strike up a conversation with nearly everyone. as it turns out, introverted katsuki bakugou was a shameless flirt.

the two of you exchanged flitting glances from time to time, but it was never anything serious. at least to him, it wasn’t.

you knew he’d never taken the flirting seriously, and you also knew about his aching feelings for uraraka. how he covered his mouth whenever she walked by. how his voice raised just a bit, and how soft his eyes got.

you shouldn’t have been surprised. he never even hinted that he might have had romantic feelings for you.

the entire room erupted with applause as he kissed her. the katsuki bakugou, kissing someone? pfft, only in dreams.

for some, the dream would be good. like uraraka, who had shamelessly kissed him back.

for you, it was a complete nightmare.

the blaring music, the lights, the balloons, the ‘happy graduation class of 1-A!’

you drowned it all out. you curled your knees to your chest. you had no right to be hurt. not at all. they were his emotions. you had no control over them.

loneliness clouded over you. your chest screamed with longing. a longing to be held. be wanted by him.

you were alone. nobody was coming to comfort you. nobody was-

the door opened, clicking shut just as quickly. someone sniffled.

your eyes flicked up from your knees.

“y/n? i...i’m sorry, i had no idea anyone was out here...i can leave...”

“it’s alright, izuku.”

izuku took a swig from a bottle containing something much heavier than champagne.

that same tug in your chest came about. you were tired of seeing the billboards, the magazines. tired of seeing the unquestionably perfect relationship, perfect love bloom right before you.

dynamight and uravity this! dynamight and uravity that!

the music was loud enough, the lights were busy enough, and the people were ignorant enough to neglect your crying figure.

this was supposed to be my party. he loved me first.

“you okay?” you asked, swiping your nose.

izuku looked back at the graduation party. “no, y/n. i’m not.”

“then we’re both absolute shit.” you let him help you up. “why’re you crying?”

“just...just uraraka.”

“for me it’s just bakugou.”

just as bakugou had calmed down during his years at yuuei, izuku had earned a sense of sarcasm. “are they just oblivious or stupid?”

“goodness, izuku,” you joked, pressing a hand to your shuddering chest. “calling uraraka stupid?”

he gave you a sad side-smile. you listened in silence as the upbeat music played on.

“i guess we’re the stupid ones.” he sighed, chest heaving a little.

“i guess,” you agreed. he pulled you into a hug, and you let the tears flow. your sobs corrupted your chest as you curled into his arms. “why? why did it have to be her?”

“not all heroes end up happy, y/n.”

you looked up at him, eyes puffy, sniffling. “why can’t we be part of that small portion of heroes who are?”

izuku looked up, trying to neglect the water pooling in his own eyes. “i guess...well, not to be a narcissist—” he let out a breathy chuckle, “―but if you noticed, all the greatest heroes die with some kind of regret.”

“maybe i don’t want to be a good hero.” you ignored his efforts to lighten the mood.

“heroes don’t always get to choose whether they’ll be good or not. some things just happen.”

“i’m sorry, izuku.” you swiped at your eyes. “you’re hurt just as badly as me. i don’t want to make it—”

“hey.” izuku gently pried your hands away from your face, fingers ghosting over your wrists. his emerald eyes gleamed as they stared into yours. “don’t invalidate your feelings just because of me. we’re both hurting, but that doesn’t mean i won’t listen to you.”

your sobs came back again, and you fell into his chest.

bakugou spun uraraka, laughing gently as she twirled in his arms. his eyes lit up whenever he saw her. they twinkled. he sparkled. his smile was dazzling. and he was everything you never had.

you were a heartbroken mess, even after all these years. there was a list of all the reasons you were mad at him, and yourself.

your sobs were almost uncontrollable, and at this point, you were shocked nobody came to check on you. not that you cared very much. even if you were making a small effort to hide your face, it still would have been nice to feel a touch on your shoulder, someone perhaps shaking you gently to make sure you were awake.

not that you’d tell them what was wrong. you just wanted to know somebody cared, and to have the option to talk to somebody if you needed to do so.

but here you were. cheesy, upbeat fifties music echoed along the walls of the room. bakugou had secretly adored artists from back then, and you’d often catch him dancing and singing along to long-forgotten oldies.

if you weren’t his best friend, you would have blown off coming here and binge-watched ‘my best friend’s wedding’ and sobbed.

your head was down, forehead leaning on the backs of your forearms stacked upon each other. tears were streaming down, your shoulders shuddering with each weak breath sucked in and released.

until bakugou chose you, you had no reason to smile. at least not now. by no means were you desperate. love sometimes did that to people. made them look needy, look unwanted.

you’ve had plenty of options in the past, but the one person who you wanted didn’t want you back. didn’t even care.

since the graduation party, uraraka and you had been a bit tense. a part of her felt like she knew how you felt, and how bakugou mattered to you more than anyone in the world.

after the first year, she began abandoning izuku and ignoring his emotions towards her. after she and bakugou found each other, they had already known they would settle with one another.

you and izuku had never been close, but you were both good friends and were there when you needed one another.

he had walked you through your pain of senior year, and you’d helped him reach a lot of his goals, too. but bakugou just didn’t seem to care anymore. not even about becoming the number one hero. he looked at uraraka like she was his goal, his new dream, the reason he was happy. he looked at her and saw that he had the world in his hands and wanted to keep it that way.

you? you were pluto. exiled from the rest of the planets. exiled from the rest of his options, when you used to be his first.

“y/n?”

you and izuku backed away from each other. you’d both been crying for quite a bit. how long it had been, you were both unsure.

uraraka now stood at the door. you peeked into the window, leaning back a bit and catching glances of the blonde, who was currently being clapped on the back by his friends, congratulated for ‘getting the girl’.

“are you guys okay?’ uraraka asked.

“would you cry, uraraka?”

she tilted her head. “what?”

you pushed yourself off of izuku. “do you think you’d cry if you saw me kissing him, too?”

“what’re you―”

“you would cry, too! you would be sobbing!” you stabbed an accusatory finger at her. “you were my friend! you knew how i felt, and you’re kissing him?”

uraraka’s eyes widened. “i...i’m sorry. it all just happened, and i—”

“shut the hell up, uraraka. you ruined this party. for me and izuku.”

perhaps you went a bit far, but in your heart and your mind, you knew she deserved it. she knew. uraraka had known.

izuku gave uraraka a sympathetic look before pressing a hand to your back and leading you away.

it still came as a bit of a shock that uraraka had let bakugou invite you to their wedding. gosh. little, domestic bakugou, sealing invitations and batting his eyes at his oh-so-sweet wife so he could invite his best friend.

little domestic uraraka sweetly kissing her fiance on the cheek and pouting as she said, “how can i say no?”

it was disgusting, and everything you wanted to have with him.

you allowed yourself to be selfish this one time. after all, you deserved it. you’d endured hours of bakugou blabbering on about how sweet uraraka was. everything you weren’t.

you took the bottle to champagne. your ankles were aching as you stumbled out of the room. your vision blurred, becoming foggy with tears. not one person stopped you. you guessed because nobody noticed.

like graduation night, you slumped down right outside the doors to the party, the music, lights, and laughter muffled. the only difference was that you had a bottle of champagne and the man of your dreams was gone. for good, this time.

“i wish she noticed me. it was like, after first year, the uraraka i knew just vanished.”

you nodded. you and midoriya were wandering the streets, cool air brushing down your neck and on your face as cars passed.

“uraraka was so sweet, but she lost feelings so fast and...ugh.” midoriya ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls. “i’m still a bit...baffled. i know people change, but she and kacchan both switched up so fast.”

“i don’t want to say they’re jackasses, but they’re kind of jackasses.”

izuku rubbed your shoulder as you leaned on him while the two of you walked. “don’t say that.”

“sorry,” you breathed.

“no more being sorry. being sorry all the time leads to shit like this.”

you chuckled. “yeah, it does.” you sniffed. “did i take you away from the party? you can go back if you want.”

he shrugged. “’s all right. i don’t mind.”

“do you want to be here or would you rather be in there?”

“out here with you. i can’t be there right now.”

“me too.”

“let me guess.”

you looked up and scoffed softly.

“this was supposed to be your party?”

you nodded. “my party, my groom. i’m not supposed to be crying at my party, am i?”

your friend shook his head. “not at all. cheer up, y/n.”

izuku slid down the wall, sitting beside you. he rested his arms on his knees, twisting open his own bottle of champagne. “you look like a mess.”

“and you look like you need anger management.” you smiled.

he grinned back. “do i now?”

“yeah, you do. you should have seen yourself sitting there. all alone, the one person drinking something that wasn’t the fifty-thousand yen drinks.”

“54,795.75 yen, to be exact.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you’re insane. you kidding me? why do you know that?”

“i was the weird kid who took notes on everyone in the class. of course i would know this. i’m offended you think i wouldn’t.”

you tilted your head back in laughter. “gosh, izuku.”

“mhm.”

there was a pause. comfortable silence filled the space, broken by you sigh after gulping down your drink. “so they’re gone?”

“i’d rather not dwell on it.”

“how old are we now?”

izuku gave a breathy chuckle. “twenty-five.”

you smiled. “really, now? and i thought i would be married by now.”

“me too. ‘s a shame.”

“how about, if we’re both still not married by the time we’re forty, we get married to each other, adopt three children and we become hot parents.”

“three?”

“yeah, we can have a mini hero agency.”

“that’s horrifying. but i agree. having a mini hero agency would be pretty amazing.”

“i’m glad you agree with me, izuku.” you brushed a curl from his eyes.

“can’t wait until i’m forty,” he smirked.

“me neither.”

“maybe by then we would have forgotten all of this?”

“we’ll be fighting a villain, and we get our memories erased, and then we fall in love because we wake up beside each other in the hospital. we’re both equally confused.” you peppered him with jokes. “it’s a journey we will go on together.”

“can’t wait until my memory gets erased.”

“do you wanna get out of here?”

izuku shook his head. “it’s their wedding. we can’t. we shouldn’t.”

you gave him a silly look.

“you’re always such trouble, y/n.”

“if you hate it, then wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

izuku’s features softened. “maybe i like it. but only sometimes.” he took your head and lead you out, leaving his drink behind while you took yours.

a single tear rolled down your cheek. he didn’t erase all your pain, nor your feelings for bakugou. it wasn’t what you needed, no.

you just needed a friend. a real one. one that wouldn’t steal your dream from you. and that’s what you knew you had right now.

besides, things could happen in the future, right?

you smiled, and let the cold air touch your skin.

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americxn · 4 years ago

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“What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?”

Kai Anderson x GN!Reader

This is definitely not good enough to enter, but I used the prompt from @tatesimper anniversary writing competition so I guess this is my entry? (fig, I’m so sorry for butchering such a good prompt lmao)

also, I realised when writing it that this could serve as a prologue to this fic:

https://americxn.tumblr.com/post/652835852669648896/paranoia

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: genocide/murder mention, swearing (this is based off episode 11 of season 7)

The night air was cool on your exposed face as you took the front steps to the door of Kai’s house, not bothering to knock as you pushed it open, the warmth and light from within spilling onto the smooth concrete of the front step and pooling around your feet; having been in a committed relationship with Kai from a year and a half now, this house was practically your own. Stepping past the front porch after abandoning your shoes and jacket, you entered the uncharacteristic quiet of the house, scanning the hallway for any signs of life, usually abundant within these walls in the form of Kai’s blue shirt-clad, blindly deferential followers.

“Okay. A little bad news to start,” your body instinctively angled towards the voice, distinctly Kai, that sounded through the empty hall from the back room. You set off down the hallway, his voice growing in volume as you approached, somewhat confused. He hadn’t notified you of a scheduled cult meeting that evening and yet his tone of voice was threaded with the assertive cadence that he utilised only when addressing his followers. “It turns out finding a thousand pregnant women to murder is super hard. No one will ever accuse me of lacking ambition.” He continued as you reached the threshold to the large room at the back of the house that served as a secondary living room; breath catching in your throat, you halted, your hand reaching for the wood of the doorframe to steady yourself as the meaning of his words settled into you. To murder? “So, Night of a Thousand Tates is off.” A ripple of groans and dejected sighs rose from the small sea of men at Kai’s words, quickly falling silent to allow him to continue. “But, Night of One Hundred Tates is on.” His words sent a wave of prickly dread spider walking down your spine; he hadn’t told you about any of this. Killing a thousand pregnant women? You wanted to stride into the room with a bright laugh to wave away his abhorrent words and demand for the real reason that he had called a meeting. But you knew. A terrible, truth filled part of you was all too aware that he was deadly serious A chorus of thrilled cheers drifted up from the small crowd in twisted elation with the newly revealed knowledge that their hands would still be stained with blood by the end of the night. Your breath became too loud in your ears, your mouth turning utterly dry as you examined your suddenly empty mind for a solution to Kai’s monstrous plan that you could use to convince him to call it off. But you came up short, taking a small step back into the safety of the dimly lit hall, your back coming to press against the wall beside the open doorway to ensure that nobody would be able to see you eavesdropping from within. This was too far. Kai had done many questionable, twisted things over the past year but this... this was too far. You were full of self hatred for the amount of things that you had stood aside for and let Kai go ahead with, but not this. You refused to take so much of an ounce of accountability for this. Pulling your phone from the confines of your back pocket, you drew in a shuddering, grounding breath, your thumb working on the keypad. The digit shook as it pressed onto the screen, your teeth catching between your lower lip as your gaze flicked from the brightness of the device’s screen to the open doorway at your side. The sequence of 911 you had typed glared up at you, bathing the underside of your jaw in artificial light as you craned your neck, leaning forwards slightly to peer into the room. Kai stood by the far wall, his men arranged in a neat group before him, all sitting straight backed to attention on their chairs. Just behind Kai, displayed on the low table pushed against the wall were two silicone models of a woman’s torso, ripe with the swell of a baby within; one was positioned to the side as a cross sectional diagram, the other facing straight on, the small model of a baby in the third trimester curled up within the artificial uterus. Your attention snapped back to Kai as he took a step forwards to address the group. “Look under your chairs, I’ve handed each of you a unique list of targets, all ready to pop.” Your stomach twisted in horrified disbelief as the men all shifted in unison, pleasure curling the corners of their lips upwards as they read the names of the people they were soon to mercilessly slaughter. You watched with teary eyes as an impressively built, stocky man who you didn’t know the name of slowly lifted his hand to the ceiling, Kai’s eyes immediately flicking to him in agitation. “You raise your hand one more fucking time and I will cut it off.” The powerfully built man visibly shrunk down into his chair at Kai’s hissed statement of reproval but timidly uttered his question of “how do we know they’re all pregnant?” Kai’s eyes flashed in impatient annoyance as he tore his eyes off the man, flicking them briefly up to the ceiling before deigning to answer. “Because Gutterball pulled the rosters of four ob-gyns, two Lamaze classes and a Momtra Yoga over on Main. Great job, Gutterball.” The blond man who went by Gutterball, sat on the front row of chairs close to Kai, beamed in self-gratified delight at Kai’s gracious recognition, lifting a fist into the air in triumph. Kai smiled proudly down at him before turning to address the group as a whole once more. Your eyes flicked down to the bright screen of your phone, the numbers displayed there beckoning. Your thumb twitched, a conflicted frown creasing your forehead as Kai continued on, pulling your attention back to him. “Manson’s family - I admire them, but they did get a little sloppy.” You watched on in nauseating alarm as Kai pulled a large blade from the black sheath at his hip with a flourish, the metal glinting in the light of the room. “Their message got lost in their mess. What we are doing requires more precision. It is imperative that both mother and child are impaled. Don’t fuck this up.” He scanned the gathering before him, gaze as sharp as the knife clutched in his grip before turning to the models behind him. “Aim for the belly button but stab in a downward motion. If you stab straight,” in one fluid motion, he had buried the curved tip of the blade in the portion of the fake uterus just above the baby’s head with a solid thunk, “you miss the baby - and our entire message is lost.” Withdrawing the knife, he turned back to address his cult, the weapon hanging loosely from his fingertips by his thigh. “Tomorrow night, when your blades tear open one hundred pregnant bellies, you will be releasing a power into the universe. Detonating a neutron bomb of truth, blood and amniotic fluid. You will be galvanising an army.” “With their sisters gutted, women everywhere will be forced to react. They can’t ignore an injustice this brutal. They’ll have to rise up, and in their collective rage, they will train it on Senator Jackson, on all incumbents, on any of the people in power who failed to keep us safe. As the most vulnerable are slaughtered, as the pregnant bodies pile up on Senator Jack-off’s watch, we will be surfing an electoral bloodbath straight to Capitol Hill. And then… the White House.” The collection of cult members all voiced their assent in a chorus of whoops and ovated cheers, a nauseating sense of unease dragging it’s claws up the length of your spine. You turned away with hot tears blurring your vision, not wanting to hear more, your phone a heavy weight in your hand and the decision it presented even heavier.

Sat on the edge of Kai’s large bed, your knee couldn’t cease it’s anxious bouncing, your lower lip chewed raw by your teeth. The door swung open suddenly, sending your heart leaping into your throat. Kai stepped into the room, the small smile stretching across his lips broadening as he beheld you perched on the mattress’ edge. “Hey, when did you get here?” He questioned, reaching to tug you to your feet and wrap his arms tightly around you in a warm embrace. “I only got here like five minutes ago.” Your lie was muffled into the thin shirt at his shoulder, his hands splayed flat on your upper back as he held you close to him. Withdrawing yourself from his grasp, you frantically scanned his face, heart sinking at the pleasure dimly glowing in the depths of his dark eyes, pleasure fuelled not by your sudden appearance, but in anticipation of the merciless slaughter that he would be carrying out in mere hours time. “What?” He asked curiously, his head tilting slightly in concern as his smile faded, caught in the grave despondency of the stare you had him pinned under. His tape-wrapped hands settled on his shoulders; shaking him off, you stepped away, your chest bubbling with emotion that was dangerously close to spilling over. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, forcing the tears that threatened to flow to stay at bay. Groaning through clenched teeth, colourful sparks flashing through your blocked vision from the force with which you pressed your hands into your eyes, you blindly felt Kai’s warmth as he stepped forwards to comfort you. Dropping your hands, you retreated another step, Kai stilling at the look of stangled confliction latching onto your features. “What happened?” Voice breaking, you brought a hand up to press against your forehead, icy panic unfurling in your gut amongst the turmoil of roiling distress flooding through your insides. Kai looked utterly lost, his eyes boring into yours as he searched for an answer to the question that he couldn’t understand. “What the fuck happened to you, Kai?” His heart splintered at the raw anguish in your choked, lamenting tone, automatically taking a step towards you, wanting nothing more than to smother the emotions swarming your features. “I used to be so, so happy with you.” His lips parted in disbelief as you continued. “I would’ve done anything for you.” You couldn’t help the tears that spilled over, your voice pushing past the quivering of your lower lip and growing in strength, your breaths turning sharp and rasping as they were sucked in between your passionate words. “Y/n…” He didn’t know what to say as he watched you struggle to keep a grasp on coherency. “I don’t know what happened to him. To the Kai that I fell in love with. But he’s gone now. He’s gone and I don’t know how to get him back.” Sorrow gave way to desolate fury as you plowed on, your jaw clenching as you stepped towards him to deliver a harsh shove to his hard shoulders. Kai fell utterly silent, stumbling back slightly under your touch, unnerved and unsure by the eruption of messily confessed words that spilled from you, seemingly out of nowhere. “Answer me.” You demanded gruffly, shoving at his solid frame once more. “I… y/n, I don’t know-” With a third shove, his eyes flashed in agitated warning, silently daring you to repeat the action a fourth time. You did, shoving at him with as much force as you could muster, breathing hard when he took ahold of your wrists, pulling you to him and pouring his branding stare onto you. “Stop.” Your face was flushed, plump tears cutting through your face and dripping from your chin as you plowed on. “What happened, Kai?” His nostrils flared, eyes wide in confusion as he battled to grasp onto your thoughts, to make coherence of the biting words falling from your lips. “What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?” Your ragged breaths filled the sudden silence in the room, the roaring silence infiltrating Kai’s head drowning out all other sense as he stared down at you in cold disbelief, your eyes wild and face screwed with festering ardour, raw and demanding, your lashes damp with bitter tears. A symphony of surprised shouts echoed up the stairs from the ground floor of the house, Kai’s attention snapping to the door at his back and eyes flooding with sharp panic. He released his hold on you as the cries from below grew in volume, laced with alarm. A single gun shot rang out and it was your turn to take ahold of Kai, the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists warm under your fingers. His head whirled back to you, his eyes alight with uneasy confusion, his gaze frosting over. Bringing your face closer to his, you laid a single, lingering kiss to his lips, your own wet against him. “I’m sorry.” You said quietly, several heavy sets of footsteps sounding from behind the door as they thundered up the stairs. Kai’s eyes frantically searched yours as he pulled against your unrelenting grasp, his gaze briefly parting from yours to snap to the door as the sequence of footsteps and shouts grew louder. “But I can’t let you do this.” His throat bobbed, his eyes widening in terror as the reality of the situation settled over him. “I sentence you to rot.” Tugging at his wrists, you forced your face closer to his before muttering to him, your breath hot on his face and the recognition of your betrayal manifesting in the cold fire smoldering in his gaze: “Just like how my love for you has turned to rot.” His face contorted in rage as the bedroom door was forced open, the panel of wood swinging open and hitting the adjacent wall with a bang, several armed policemen flooding into the room. You loosened your grip on his wrists, stepping away as two of the men took ahold of Kai by the back of his shirt, twisting his arms behind his back. He shrieked in rage, straining to turn his head towards his assailants as they began to pull him from the room. Sinking down onto the edge of the bed, you locked eyes with Kai’s as he turned back to you, cool rage simmering in his dark gaze, his lip curled into an enraged snarl. He pinned you with his stare, not even bothering to fight against the men holding him as he was pulled from the room, a savage promise glittering in his unrelenting stare. A promise of vengeance. Of suffering.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @mossybank @tatesimper (dm to be added or removed <3)

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years ago

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Scandalous(1)

An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit.

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

WC: 2.2k+

Pronouns: They/Them

____________

For the entire day, Alex seemed to constantly be on his feet. At first, George really didn't pay much attention to it, after all, sometimes people just have busy days. Usually for George, his days weren't anything special. He'd just wake up and lay around the house. He'd make sure to film a video every couple of days and could be found playing a bit of FIFA or COD.

George didn't have much of a reason to leave his shared flat. He'd usually go over to one of his friend's places to hang out or film a collab, every now and then he'd go out shopping to get a couple of things for a video or just the flat. Still, George wasn't the type of person to find reasons to rush around or try and get as many tasks done as possible, it was one of the many perks that came with being a YouTuber.

It was normal to see Alex running around once in a while. He'd like to go out and do things like playing football with a few of his mates or just going out and being around people. But today seemed different, as though he was planning for something important to happen.

At first, George didn't feel the need to ask his flatmate about what was going on. But while the day rolled on and Alex seemed to only go back and forth from making phone calls to typing away on his computer, George's curiosity had begun to eat himself up from inside.

As the afternoon rolled around, George found himself seated on the couch. He had been wasting a good portion of his day watching whatever he could find on the TV that was actually interesting. Earlier he had filmed a few videos for his second channel, he looked at the Reddit page for usual funny content and then proceeded to go on a Twitter page and look at nostalgic videos and photos for a second video.

Usually with some luck, George would be able to find something good to put on TV, but today just seemed like one of those days where you couldn't find anything good to watch. So as a final resort, he had turned on some Spongebob cartoons, it seemed like he only had enough luck to have the old cartoons from the early 2000's play.

While watching the yellow sponge on TV, George had checked a few of his social medias, wondering if there was anything else that was going on that could possibly hold his attention for longer than ten minutes.

Maybe he just needed a new hobby, something to keep attention for more than five minutes. FIFA was fun, but you could only play it so many times.

"Hey George?"

The sound of his flatmate's voice had pulled him out of his thoughts. Standing behind the couch, Alex was typing away on his iPhone. He had taken a quick look to make eye contact with George before returning to his text messages. Turning around, the brunette man gave his attention to his flatmate, "What's up?"

"I don't know if you remembered, but I'm having someone come out to the UK to spend a couple of days with me to film some collabs and just get to know each other," sliding his phone in his back pocket, Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hopefully this turns out all good."

How did this slip his mind? Alex had been mentioning he was planning to do this with someone for the past couple of weeks. As the days rolled on, when he became busier and busier, it all made sense. Alex was only making sure everything was going to go smoothly when whoever was going to come to the UK.

"Shit, that totally slipped my mind, sorry," George brushed a hand through his hair with a short sigh. "Are they gonna stay with us or are they staying at a hotel? Maybe they're doing something completely different."

"Hotel," as he responded, Alex began to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet. "They're gonna get here in two days and when they show up me and a couple of our friends are gonna go out and get some drinks, just to get more comfortable with one another. You coming with us?"

"I don't see why not," giving a shrug, George leaned his head against the palm of his hand, supporting his head to sit at a certain angle. "Are you interested in this influencer or something, you keep saying you wanna get comfortable with them."

"Well, they aren't really my type. Also, they're gonna be hanging around us for a few days, so of course I wanna be comfortable around them."

"Who even is 'they'? Does this influencer have a name?" George let out another sigh as he looked up at his flatmate.

"They're Y/n L/n."

Y/n L/n, George had heard that name a few times in the influencer world. One thing he knew for sure, Y/n was much bigger than both Alex and George's channels combined. So why was Y/n planning to come and hang around them for a while?

That wasn't the only question rushing through George's mind, from what he had heard about Y/n (which was very little) he knew they were a very scandalous person. Having them around didn't seem like too bright of an idea, maybe Alex just wanted to collab with them to gain a bit more in subscribers... George knew it'd be smart to keep Y/n at arm's length while they'd be in the UK. After all, they'd only be here for a couple of days, so how hard could it be?

"Oh."

"Just 'oh'?" Alex raised a brow at his flatmate, "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just took me a moment to realize who they were," George turned back to face the TV, implying the conversation had come to an end.

"Alright, I'm gonna get back to making sure the flat isn't a typical mess," Alex sighed, taking a step back from the couch.

"Cool," George mumbled as he watching the yellow sponge on TV run beside a pink star.

If Y/n got Alex caught up in anymore drama, he'd have a fit. He had seen his flatmate come so far since the last time drama was in his life. There'd be a chance that would grow bigger and bigger everytime they hung out that Alex could get caught up in a scandal.

Even though Alex's a grown adult, sometimes he could make really stupid decisions. But that was the thing, Alex is a human being, he's allowed to make mistakes. All George wanted for this whole collab to into come back around and bite Alex in the ass. But it was too late, Y/n was going to be here soon and whatever happens, just happens. There wasn't much George could do besides distancing himself away from Y/n.

"Alright, I think I have enough shirts, I better go double-check to see if I have my toiletries all packed up," Y/n had mumbled under their breath in the midst of packing. Even though they were a big YouTuber and could simply pay someone to pack for them, Y/n had decided to pack for this one trip.

"Y/n, where the fuck are you?"

The sound of someone's voice had become louder, Y/n could tell their friend was entering their bedroom.

"I'm just in the bathroom, Bret!" They had responded while looking underneath their bathroom sink for a few more toiletries.

"Are you seriously leaving?" The one and only Bretman Rock stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at his friend.

"Well yeah, I've been planning this trip for the past couple of weeks," Y/n looked up at the makeup influencer. Bretman and Y/n had been friends since forever, they had gone through so much together.

"You're gonna miss James's party next Saturday," he moved aside, letting the other influencer in the room past by.

"It's just one party," they had let out a short scoff while working on packaging their bathroom items properly. "James always throws parties, I'll go to the next one."

"Fine bitch," Bretman had tossed himself onto Y/n's bed, making their suitcase jump a little with everything else that had been laid out on Y/n's bed. "Why are you even going to London?"

"Well, I'm planning to meet up with a friend to make some videos together and just hang out," Y/n shrugged as they tucked away a few more items into their suitcase.

"Who?"

"He goes by ImAllexx on YouTube."

Bretman shook his head as he watched his friend, "I have absolutely never heard of them... ever."

"Yeah, his channel is smaller than either of ours."

"Lemme tell you now, if you're secretly doing some long-distance relationship with him and haven't bothered to tell me any tea yet, I will literally kill you," the raven-haired man laid on his back, beginning to fidget with the rings that sat on his fingers.

"I'm telling you now, Bret. Alex is only a friend, he's like a brother," they tsked at their friend as they zipped up their suitcase, finally finishing packing.

"Fine, but if I find out you end up hooking up with some British boys over there and don't tell me... like I said, you'll be dead bitch."

"Calm down, you know I can't keep secrets from you," Y/n flashed a cheeky grin at their friend while sliding the suitcase off of the bed. "I had two hours before I head to the airport, what do you wanna do?" For the past couple of weeks, Y/n had been counting down the days until they would leave for London. No doubt about it, they were excited. It wasn't often for them to make friends with other Influencers or people in general. So when they got the chance to make friends with a small commentary YouTuber that went by the name of ImAllexx, they had made sure to be as kind as possible.

At this point it was truly hard for Y/n to make friends, most people didn't like them based on the rumors that had spread about Y/n. Others that usually tried to be Y/n's friends were merely using them for money and fame. It became hard for Y/n to trust people and get close to them. So how did Alex pull off gaining Y/n's trust?

Y/n one day had been scrolling through YouTube, looking for something to watch. At this point, they had seen almost everything, vlogs, challenges, makeup, drama, and more. But one video had popped up into Y/n's recommended videos that had caught their eye.

'We Need to Stop Y/n L/n.'

It was normal for Y/n to see these types of videos, usually they'd come from Drama channels trying to cancel them. But this one had come from a YouTuber with the name, 'ImAllexx'. It was normal for Y/n to scroll when they came across these types of videos, but the video seemed a bit intriguing considering the thumbnail was only a simple picture of themself against a blue background. So of course, Y/n clicked on the video only to hear; "Hello everyone, I'm Alex..."

Y/n found the video quite funny, when they'd watch videos made on them, the videos were typically quite harsh and mean. With Alex, he seemed like the type of person to be able to take a joke. His whole video was on an Instagram post Y/n had made a week or two before Alex had posted his video, he had just been taking the piss out of the photo as a joke.

And after finishing that video and having a laugh, Y/n continued to watch more of Alex's videos, just to see if he was seemingly a decent guy. And somehow, they got hooked on Alex's videos. And by the end of the day, they had binged a good amount of his content.

A few days after discovering Alex and his content, Y/n had decided to check out a few of his social medias. That's when Y/n had found out he was already following them on both Instagram and Twitter.

When Alex checked Instagram a while later, he was surprised to find that @y/nl/n was now following him. Y/n was almost four times(if not more) the popularity size of Alex, so how had they noticed him? He was a bit nervous at first, why would someone like Y/n follow him?

Instead of anxiety getting the best of Alex, he had decided to do something to try and figure out why of all people, @y/nl/n had decided to follow him. So he had been careful with sliding into Y/n's DMS, only to ask why they had followed him. ANd moments later, Y/n responded to him.

'I've just been binge-watching your content lately and I thought that you were funny so I followed you. :)'

At first, Alex felt like it could possibly be a trap, but he continued to message back and forth with Y/n. After a while, Alex had realized that maybe Y/n wasn't as scandalous and dramatic as people made them out to be. As the days rolled on and they continued to talk, they had ended up developing a friendship.

After a couple of months of talking and coming closer and closer, Alex had asked if Y/n would want to fly out to the UK from LA to film a couple of collabs and hang out in person. Y/n had easily accepted his invitation, and just like that, A date was set for Y/n to fly out to London.

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @breakfast-cereal @snowcones404 @golden-hoax

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oldbay-on-apples · 4 years ago

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Dystopian Larry Fic Rec

Inspired by some of the lovely people and fic recers on here, I’ve decided to start making my own fic recs. If you’d like, you can request recs in my inbox and I’ll see what I can do <3!

Please read the ratings and tags to these fics (because some of them are dark or have dark themes) and enjoy!

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by lululawrence��- @lululawrence (NR, 36k)

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly. There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere. Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing. Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined. -

I loved the way the magic and technology in this fic intersected in such a unique way and the way the world was built was extraordinary!

red hands by reveries_passions - @dystopianharry (T, 132k)

I’ve never told anyone,” Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them. “But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.” * a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

- The plot of this is just *chef’s kiss* in so many ways! I love the way the characters interact with each other and I’m weak for Niall and Harry’s friendship in this.

Love After the End of the World by writing_practice - @mercurial-madhouse (E 158k)

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?” ----- Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda. When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

This just came out in the most recent Big Bang (that’s still on going so you should definitely check that out) and this fic is so amazing! I think it does a great job of just really immersing you in the world the characters exist in. Love After the End of the World is also a Soulmate AU and I love the way those parts come together. It also has an amazing prologue called PROMETHEUS RISING (M 5k) that I enjoyed immensely set in the same world!

at last, at last by suspendrs - @suspendrs (NR 41k) Locked

“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”

Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?

Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.

This fic does a great job of making you feel like you’re experiencing with the characters, like I could practically smell what the characters were smelling! The world it’s set in is so cool and the entire fic feels so well thought out and everything is so consistent!

my love will never leave you by we_are_the_same @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (T 10k)

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

I loved the idea behind this. Like the entire world is so brilliantly done! And it was all based on ONE word (because of the wordplay challenge). Even though it’s set in a different world everything feels so grounded and realistic and I really really like that about it.

a prayer for which no words exist by Eliane (M 34k) Locked

"Louis is a few seconds away from blowing up a rather important section of the New York subway when he sees Harry for the first time."

In this fic the characters motivations are so clear (to the reader) and I love how it goes from Louis accidentally sort of, kind of, kidnapping Harry to them becoming friends then more. I also love how no matter where they are the fic has a real sense of place. This is part 1 of landscapes of war. The entire series is really good!

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark (E 95k) Locked

“People died,” Harry whispers so quietly Louis strains to hear. “People died, and I killed some of them. How does life just go on after something like that?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don't know. It just does.”

Hunger Games AU where Louis Tomlinson is district six's victor from the 69th Hunger Games and Harry Styles is district seven's victor from the 72nd Hunger Games.

This fic is a hunger games AU that both people who have and haven't read/watched the Hunger Games can enjoy. I like how it explores the world of the Hunger Games in a way that isn’t explored in the Hunger Games canon. It’s really intense (like the E is for the darker themes and violence) and I enjoy it a lot. There is a happy ending (as the author assures in the tags) and I really enjoy all the struggles that the characters go through.

Nobody Marks You by graceling_in_a_suit @graceling-in-a-suit (T 33k)

“The plan is: we’re gonna put on a play. Now, I see some doubtful faces–” Louis looked around and found zero doubtful faces. Liam looked intrigued, Zayn looked bored, and Harry looked scarily blank. “But this is what’s happening. We’re gonna do some fucking acting, we’re gonna perform our hearts out, and we’re not going to think about anything else. The past, the future; none of it. All we’re going to think about is... “ Niall trailed off, eyeing the bookshelf to his left. He closed his eyes and reached a hand out towards it, running his fingers over the covers before pulling a book out at random. “William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.”

AU: Five assholes stuck in a bunker put on a play.

This is one of my absolute favorite fics. I just love the way the characters interact and they way the story is told. It’s nonlinear so you jump around in time and it shows the way the character's relationships change throughout. I’m a sucker for Much Ado About Nothing and though you don’t need to read it to fully appreciate the fic I think the use of the play throughout is genius.

@1dfanfictionbookcovers has a really cool cover for the fic as well HERE

With a whimper by kitundercover @kitundercover (M 132k)

Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

---

The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.

“Fine.” Large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

The thing this fic does really does is showing emotional reactions. Louis’ inner monologue is so well done and I really like the plot of the story.

these bountiful silences by tommoandbambi (T 123k)

they live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don't want to live that way.

I really, really, really, like this plot and the story! The world that the characters exist in is so interesting and I just love the way in which it is a dystopia.

#my fic recs #Dystopian Larry fic rec #Larry Fic Recs #Dystopian Fic Recs #fic recs

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something-tofightfor · 4 years ago

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Christmas in July #1: Aurora

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader (Ink AU)

Word Count: 2,727

Rating: M? There’s some talk of the original trip into the park with William from Ransom, but no detail.

The first request for Christmas in July v3.0 goes out to you, @valkblue! I missed Logan - specifically this Logan, and you made it simple for me. You can read this as a standalone and just sort of be aware of the past trauma mentioned, but if you want to get the full effect - and the full scope of these two and their relationship, start here with Ink. This takes place well after the end of “Not Enough” (which I WILL finish I swear). Thank you for requesting this, Angie! <3

“Where are we going?” You were sitting next to him in the back of the car, but Logan wasn’t paying attention to you, instead typing something on his phone. “Logan, w-” “Do you trust me?” He darkened the screen and then turned his head to look at you, eyes focused on your face. “I mean, I know you do, but… do you trust me with this?” You didn’t even have to think about it. You trusted Logan implicitly - words and actions, public and private, especially after the events of the aftermath of your trip into the park’s depths with William.

“Of course.” You moved closer, laying your head against his shoulder. “You know I do, Logan, with everything. But we’re missing the Delos party, and … I didn’t know if …” You trailed off when you head him chuckle, the man’s arm winding around your shoulders. He didn’t speak until his palm was settled against the front of your body, placement deliberate. He always does that. Always over the tattoo.

It was a way to ground himself, reminding him that even before you’d had a real reason to, you’d trusted him with your health and safety - with your future. “Then lemme take care of this, alright? I’m doing something nice for you, so stop asking questions and just let me.” Before you, Logan had spent the majority of his time and effort - and money - making himself happy, doing anything and everything in his power to keep from settling too deep into his memories. But now? It’s all about me. “I know how much you look forward to that party every year, Logan. It’s the beginning of your extended vacation, and -” “I’m starting a little early this year.” You heard him clearly but felt his lips moving over the top of your head as he spoke. “We both are.” What does that mean? But instead of asking, you focused on the window and what you could see through it. “It’s a surprise.” He finally spoke again, voice low as you spied a sign for LAX through the far window. “A good one, I hope.” “All of your surprises are good, Logan.” Tilting your head up slowly, you kissed the bottom of his bearded jaw, the hair soft against your lips. “I won’t ask anymore questions.” ---

And you didn’t. You let him lead you onto one of the Delos jets, let the flight attendants explain the menu and drink options, let them bring you a blanket… and you even let Logan convince you to take Unisom an hour or two into the flight once he’d told you that you’d be in the air for a while. You woke feeling only slightly groggy, a fresh, cold glass of juice and a light breakfast on the table next to your reclined seat. Is it morning? It must be.

By the time you finished eating, you felt better, and were happy to see Logan emerging from the bathroom. The man was dressed in different clothes than he’d been when you took off, the black shift he had on making his eyes look much darker than usual. Casual, but … but still Logan. “There’s clothes waiting for you in there, too.” He pointed. “What you’re wearing now is great for LA, but not … not for where we’re going.

Rolling your eyes, you finally stood, taking the last swig of juice and walking into the bathroom, the promised clothes hanging on a small rack. Sweaters. So we’re going somewhere cold. Thumbing through them, you chose one in a dark green with a ribbed pattern, the material comfortingly soft as it slid over your undershirt and skin. Pairing it with dark jeans and boots, you washed your face and then returned to the cabin, sinking down into your chair in time to see Logan tossing back the remains of his own drink - orange juice. “I won’t ask big questions, Logan. But I have a couple of statements.”

He was amused - you could tell by the lift of one brow, the slight smirk on his lips. “Go on.”

“We’re going somewhere cold, based on what both of us are wearing right now.” He nodded. “And we’ve been flying for a long time, you wouldn’t have suggested sleeping pills otherwise.” He was holding back a grin, but you could see it in the way his eyes were glittering - and knew, without a doubt that Logan wanted to tell you where you were going. But he won’t. “So I’m guessing… Europe, somewhere?” He nodded. “How long are we staying?”

“It depends.” He tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes briefly. “But at least ‘til Christmas.” Before he could say anything else, the flight attendants came back into the cabin, letting you know that the descent would be starting soon, and that they needed to secure things. So we’re here for at least a week and a half? It’s got to be … London? Somewhere in France? Spain, maybe?

But you were wrong, and as soon as you stepped out onto the tarmac, both of you bundled up in coats and gloves, Logan’s hand pressed to your lower back as he rushed you to the waiting car, you knew it. There’s so much snow. It had nearly blinded you; the thick, white cover on the ground reflecting the muted rays of sunlight, but nothing had looked familiar to you. There were no tall buildings in the distance, no landmarks - nothing to tell you where Logan had whisked you off to. “It’s cold, Logan!” But you were laughing, teeth digging into the corner of your lower lip. “I hope I have the right -” “You do.” He was excited, arm going back around your shoulders to pull you to him. “I promise. The people that packed your bag knew where we were coming, so they packed the right shit.” You laughed at that, your excitement growing as you heard the trunk close, followed by a double knock on the side of the car. As it began to move, you bit back every question you had for Logan and focused instead on the fact that you had him all to yourself for weeks, something that hadn’t been true even as you’d recovered. “You excited?” “I am.” ---

It was a short drive to your destination, but as soon as the car came to a stop, you were out of it, feet planted in the snow and one hand over your mouth. He didn’t. He… but of course he did. “Logan, you… are you serious?”

He came to your side of the car and stopped next to you, following your line of sight to the front of the building and the sign above the door, the words Northern Lights Village telling you everything you needed to know about where you were. “I… is this OK?” Your heart pounding beneath the down jacket you wore, you turned toward Logan, eyes shining with tears. It’s more than OK.

“Yes. Yes, Logan, this is … I’ve never even…” Europe, you’d imagined, because you could picture Logan among all of the people in cities like Paris or London - even Amsterdam or Milan. But this? This is … there’s no one here. “I can’t believe…” “C’mon. Let’s get checked in and to the cabin, an’ then we can talk.” Yeah, that… You let him lead you inside of the building, answering questions from the friendly concierge, and within fifteen minutes, the two of you - and your bags - were safely inside your small cabin, the space cozy. There was a fire lit, along with instructions about proper use of the fixture, a small refrigerator and kitchen area, but the most striking feature of the entire cabin were the large panes of glass in the bedroom, giving you a slightly snow-covered view of the other cabins, the trees and a portion of the property, which was bathed in a gentle twilight that the concierge had explained was about as bright as it would get that day. “This is beautiful, Logan.” He agreed with you, eyes moving over the small space, and then stepped forward, his hands moving slowly up and down your arms. “There’s a book of stuff on the desk. There are a bunch of activities we can do while we’re here. Town’s only a few minutes away, we can go sledding, or use snowmobiles, or -” “Can we just stay in for a little while, Logan?” You shrugged, smiling up at him. “You said we were going to be here for a while, so why not just… relax. You haven’t, really, not since …” “That’s one of the reasons we’re here.” He squeezed your bicep and then stepped away, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his boots while you did the same, standing with one hand against the wall. “I know this is our first official Christmas together, and I wanted to … not be in LA.” You understood - despite the fact that it had died down slightly once the trial ended, you and Logan were still higher profile than he would have liked. “The holidays haven’t ever really been a big thing for me before, not since my mom died.” He looked up. “Come, sit.”

You did, and Logan eased the two of you onto your backs and then urged you to roll toward him, on your side. “It’s cozy, Logan.” He agreed, meeting your eyes before he tilted his head to kiss you, the gesture not urgent or frenzied - just one full of affection. “There’s no tree - yet - but I’m workin’ on that, and like I said, there’s a town a few minutes away, so…” “I don’t need a tree, Logan.” You lifted your hand from his chest and spread your fingers against the side of his head, running them through his hair. “This cabin? The fireplace, the bed, the window? You? It’s perfect.” You gestured upward, still smiling. “Like we’re in a snowglobe.” “I think that’s the point.” He sighed, the warmth in his eyes bleeding into his other features and relaxing him next to you. “You’re supposed to forget everything while you’re here, and I hope you can. Hope we can, at least as much as … possible.” Every day was easier, but you knew that you’d never be fully over your ordeal in the park or the aftermath. “There’s no paparazzi here. No news. No reason to worry.”

“Just us.” He seemed surprised when you said it, but his head moved in agreement. “Then it’s perfect, Logan.” Even though you’d slept on the plane, you felt yourself growing tired again, the feeling of Logan’s arms around you just as comforting in the cabin’s small bed as they were in his large one, or in the Mesa beds, and you knew that unless you moved, you’d fall back asleep. But I don’t want to move, you realized as you closed your eyes, nestling your face between his chin and chest. I just want to stay here with him.

---

It was late when you woke up, but you didn’t know how late - only that your stomach was rumbling and the sun had fully set, the sky beyond the snowy window dark. The lack of sunrise and sunset is going to be difficult to get used to. You realized that Logan was still sleeping, and so you spent a few minutes watching him, the flickering firelight softening his features more than usual. It’s because he’s relaxed. You used the tip of one finger to trace over his cheek and then down, following the line of his jaw. “What’re you doing?”

His cheek went round beneath your hand and you groaned. “Caught me.” He laughed at that, rolling onto his back and groping for something behind him, but after only a few seconds he was back to facing you, gaze weighty, even in the darkness. “What?”

“Is this really alright?” He gestured with one hand, frowning. “Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to spend the holiday with?” He sighed. “It’s freezing, and there’s a sauna, but it’s not like the Mesa, not like the parks, not what I’m sure you figured a Christmas with me would be like.” “Logan, honestly?” You slid your hand under the hem of his shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath it. “This is perfect. Now we won’t have to worry about the headlines and people asking what I’m doing for my first Christmas post W-” “Don’t say his name.” His tone was clipped, and you stopped immediately. “Not here. This is supposed to be time away from all that, and I don’t want you to think about him for a single second.” He paused and you watched as his eyes darted away and up and then came back to you. “He doesn’t get to have a place in our Christmas.” You’d never forget what had happened to you, nor would you ever forget the way Logan had done exactly what you’d known he would - finding you, getting to you in time, staying with you while you healed and well after, letting himself love you and admit it even though it went against everything in him. This trip is just more of that. More of him. “Close your eyes.”

Confused, you did as he asked, your train of thought interrupted. You stated to whisper his name but were cut off by Logan’s lips pressed to yours, more insistent this time, one of his hands curled around the back of your head between it and the pillow. Oh, Logan. He wasn’t shy about telling you that he loves you; he’d done so countless times since the first time he admitted it out loud in the hospital wing of the Mesa, but Logan preferred to show you - in both lasting actions and physical displays, and you had no doubt in your mind that this was one of them.

The trip, the holiday, all of the time spent together; it’s all so opposite of the Logan that everyone else aside from Juliet and Emily know, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Keep your eyes closed til I tell you.” He murmured the words with one final, quick kiss to your lips and then you felt him pull away, settling back down next to you. Alright, but … why? There was a long pause, and then Logan said your name, his fingers tangling with yours between the two of you. “Open ‘em.” The first thing you saw was that the snow and ice were gone from the panes of glass that made up the window. The second was a bright green glow beyond them, flickering and swirling through the sky in bands of varied thickness. “It’s beautiful, Logan… I’ve never seen… never thought I …” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, mouth dropping open. “How did you … it…” You were speechless and it was rare for you, but as you watched the color pulsing through the sky, your eyes caught deep purple and pink at some of the edges. It’s incredible. “You can see the stars through it, Logan, look…” “I’m looking.” His voice was lower than it had been, and as you tore your eyes away from the window to glance at him, you saw that his eyes were locked on you, a serious expression on his face. “Believe me, I’m -” “Not at me, Logan. Look at that.” You reached for his chin with one hand, turning his head upward. “You can’t replicate that with any machine or computer. You can’t create that, Logan.” He relaxed next to you, and the two of you stared up in silence for a few minutes, fingers still entwined. “And you sure as hell can’t see that in LA… or anywhere in the United States.” He laughed, tightening his hold on your hand, but Logan agreed with you, his voice still quiet in the darkness. “Thank you… for letting me do this for you. For Christmas.” He needed the getaway just as much as you did - not just because he needed a break, but because he needed to know that the two of you could be together in an unfamiliar - and uncertain - environment. We can. We definitely can. “No, Logan. This isn’t just for me.” You turned your head, waiting until he was looking at you. “You did this for us.”

---

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radiosandrecordings · 4 years ago

Text

Based on this post I made earlier. Also available on ao3 here.

Warning for implied sexual content, but nothing is detailed and Jon isn’t involved in any way.

Jon felt himself relax as he found a free seat on the train, letting out a sigh. To be on your way home on a Friday was always a good thing, but getting an unexpected half day was especially nice.

He’d been trying to cut down on the amount of time he spent in work recently. Martin had been badgering him about it, and for once he let himself take the opportunity to not push himself beyond what was required. Besides, he always felt rather lonely on Friday’s, heading off to work by himself while his partners still slept. It was one of Martin’s days off from the library, and Gerry taught the evening class that day, so he didn’t have to be at the art school until eight.

He pulled out his phone to text them both, tell them he’d be home early, before realising rather too late that no, after five years of living in London there wasn’t suddenly signal on the tube.

He slid his phone back into his pocket. It’d just have to be a surprise then. He was only about ten minutes from his stop, and then he could walk home and get dinner on the way - or, he supposed with the early hour, lunch. He could waltz in the door and it would be a lovely surprise, and what a perfect way to start a weekend.

~~~

“Surprise! Boss ordered us all out early, basement is getting fumigated or some such thing. I brought- Oh!” Bags of food in one hand, he used the other to push open the bedroom door. Which revealed…

“Oh, Jesus-”

“Jon?”

Jon felt himself instinctively step back from the doorway. He tried to get words out, but his brain had decided that it didn’t exactly want to cooperate right now.

Martin pulled the sheet around himself self consciously. “Jon, we’re so sorry, we didn’t think you’d be home-”

“I’ll just go and- Uh- Put this… In the kitchen,” Jon managed to stammer out, before retreating to the safety of another room.

So… That had just happened. He had walked in on his partners… Well, having sex, to put it bluntly. Which was fine, he was fine with that, they were both adults who were allowed to do whatever they wanted. It had just caught him off guard, that’s all. He deposited the food on the countertop, and turned to lean against it, letting his eyes fall closed for a minute.

There were hurried footsteps down the hall after him, shortly followed by Martin and Gerry appearing in the doorway. They’d both pulled underwear on, and Gerry was wearing a shirt which, judging by the size, was probably actually Martin’s. Both of them looked about as mortified as Jon felt.

“Are you okay?” Was the first words out of Gerry’s mouth. Jon saw his hand move, as if to touch Jon’s arm in that way he did so often when he knew Jon was upset, but he hesitated before pulling back.

“What? Yes, yes of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” and Jon was aware that, for a man desperately trying to convince himself that he was not panicking, it kind of sounded like he was panicking.

“Well, you’re answering questions like that for starters,” Martin replied, and his voice was the right amount of calming and reasonable that he knew Jon needed right now. “Breath, love.”

Jon took the advice. In. Out. Look up to meet Martin’s eyes. “Yes, I’m- I’m fine. I’m sorry I reacted so… Adversely, I wasn’t expecting, well, that.”

“Do not start apologising over this. You did nothing wrong, we know this is a boundary for you, and we’re sorry we crossed that.”

Jon took a second before responding. “No, it’s… You two shouldn’t have to apologise either. You thought I wouldn’t be home for another four hours, I can’t fault you for wanting to, to have a good time in your own home. I can’t expect you to refrain from something you enjoy just because it makes me uncomfortable, especially when you didn’t expect me to be home.”

“You okay for a hug?” Gerry asked, leaning forward against the doorframe.

Jon wrinkled his nose slightly. “Maybe after a shower?” They all laughed at that, and Jon could feel the tension finally break between them. Then he coughed slightly to clear his throat. “Right, well, do you two want to go- Uhm… Finish up?”

“No offence, but I feel like the mood has been well and truly broken,” Martin said, “I think we should probably just take your advice on that shower,” he linked his hand with Gerry’s, and began to pull him away towards the bathroom.

“I’ll get the lunch ready,” Jon said, smiling through it as he began to take out plates.

~~~

Ten minutes later and all three of them were seated around the table, portioning out various containers of food.

“So is this a regular occurrence?” Jon asked, when they were all comfortably settled. Gerry nearly choked on his drink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m never home on Friday’s. Is this when the…” Jon trailed off, pausing to laugh at his own phrasing before he’d even got it out, “When the magic happens, so to speak?”

Gerry let out a groan, and Martin’s face was buried in his hands, and knowing him, extremely flushed. “I mean not- Not every Friday,” he managed to mumble.

“But the majority of them?”

“... Yeah,” Gerry admitted.

Jon smirked. Now that nothing was directly going on, he was substantially more comfortable about teasing his partners than he was twenty minutes ago. “And what was the thought process behind that?”

“Well, we know you don’t like sex. Obviously. And we do. So we compared all of our schedules-”

“He made a spreadsheet,” Gerry interrupted, “A sex spreadsheet. Can you believe him. This is who we’re dating.”

“And we’re very lucky to have him,” Jon said, grabbing Martin’s hand from across the table and pressing a kiss to it.

“As I was saying,” Martin said, blush returning with the kiss, “We compared the schedules and Friday was the only time you weren’t home when Gerry and I were… So… Fridays.”

Jon laughed. “As adorably nerdy as that is… Why did you feel the need to do that?”

“Well not all of us are ace,” Gerry started, “And our boyfriend is particularly handsome so-”

“Yes, yes, no, I get that bit,” Jon interrupted, waving his hand to stop Gerry from elaborating any further. “I just meant.. Why all the cloak and dagger?”

“Well, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Martin said with enough earnesty that it made Jon’s heart ache slightly.

“So you didn’t want me to be around for it?”

“It’s more that we thought you wouldn’t want to be around for it,” Gerry said.

“Oh, that’s…” Jon was a little stunned. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle that. To know that his two favourite people that he loved so much, cared about him to the extent where they would schedule that kind of thing around his own comfort. “How long have you been doing this?”

“... As long as we’ve lived together?” Martin admitted, voice trailing up at the end.

A year. They’d been conducting this elaborate plan for a year and he hadn’t noticed. All to make sure he was comfortable. Jon felt himself tearing up slightly. “That’s… That’s very… Thank you. Thank you. But really, there’s no need for that, it’s fine, I promise.”

“What do you mean?” Gerry asked, eyebrow furrowing.

“You were pretty firm that you really wanted no part in that kind of thing,” Martin said.

“I don’t!” Jon said, raising both palms, “That’s- No, that bit hasn’t changed, and I doubt it ever will. I just meant… I don’t really mind, if you two want to have some time together while I’m here?” The two looked slightly shocked, and he hastily continued, “I don’t want to be involved, or anything, I just meant you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide that from me?”

He let out a sigh. “I love you both very, very much. And I’m so grateful that you care enough about my boundaries that you would go to sheerly ridiculously lengths like that for me. But I don’t need to be shielded from it. My reaction earlier was mostly out of surprise. If in future you were to just… Tell me when, I would happily make myself at home in the living room with a book, or go for a walk or something. I don’t want you to feel like I’m something you have to accommodate.”

Gerry reached a hand across the table and took one of Jon’s. Martin followed suit, gently tracing circles across his knuckles. “Are you sure?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I think you can trust me to make my own decision on this one. I will always tell you when something is wrong, or makes me uncomfortable, or unhappy. This isn’t one of them. I want both of you to be happy as I am in this relationship and that means not having to literally check your calendar to see if you’re allowed to have sex.”

Gerry leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Your right. We should’ve trusted you enough to tell you. At first it was a little… We didn’t want to freak you out or anything, and then after a while it just didn’t seem like a big deal? We probably should’ve tried to communicate better rather than just deciding we knew better.”

“It came from a place of love,” Jon said, returning the kiss by pressing one to his forehead, and then Martin’s in turn. “But I agree. More communication in future sounds good.”

“And we’ll buy you some noise cancelling headphones,” Gerry smiled.

“Christ, really?”

“That one was a joke.”

“Oh thank god.”

#My Post #Jongerrymartin #My Writing #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin #Jongerry #Gerard Keay #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood

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astriefer · 4 years ago

Note

“Please hold me.” for thomastair (ofc bc that's what you said) 🥺

Thank you for this! @littlx-songbxrd you asked for this as well. I'm sorry it's so bad.

~~~~~

Trust me with thy heart

Pairing: Thomastair

Words: 4,537

Contains mild angst, some self harm and hurt/comfort.

Note I am awful at writing angst or hurt/comfort. This whole poor writing is based on miscommunication, much or less, or the fear to let others close.

~~~~~

Thomas wasn't fond of fights.

Demons were one thing. Their destiny as Shadowhunters was to protect mankind from those filthy monsters who invade their world. They brought disorder and death. The people he cared about were a different tale.

A light jest with his friends, why not? A banter with his father about taking the coat or not while going outside? Sure. But not a very tumultuous, tempestuous strife with them. He preferred them all to get along with each other.

Thomas liked even less when it was him involved in the disagreement.

He spent the last day jogging between massive training seasons, hanging out with his friends, and losing himself in his thoughts. Now, he avoided everyone in favor of reading Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. He made a special effort to tell no one where he was going, so non could bother him and ask him questions.

So Thomas was stunned when Ariadne Bridgestock, of all people, rushed through the entry in an unmatched combination of grace and ivory skirts, then flopped herself onto the armchair in front of Thomas.

While she had had a pleasant expression on her face, there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. If Thomas hadn't known better, he would've sworn she came here to murder him.

"You and Alastair fought," she stated.

Thomas glanced between his book to her determined face twice, considering his options. Then, on behalf of good manners, he put a bookmark on the current page he pretended to be reading for half an hour. "Is it Alastair's way to tell me to speak to him? If so, please tell him not to embroil any other folks in our relationship."

"He hadn't sent me," Ariadne ignored the last part of his sentence. "But he did not arrive for our conclave."

A spark of concern lightened up in Thomas, yet he repressed it. He was angry with Alastair, Thomas reminded himself. "And what have you speculated I can do about it?"

She looked at him funny. "Talk to him, I presume."

"Ariadne," he tried, weariness falling heavy on him. "While I appreciate your concern, I doubt Alastair wants to see me. In fact, I doubt whether I want to see him right now. I know you confide in each other-" more than Alastair does with him, the bitter thought tore its way into his head. "And your intentions are well, but I will highly prefer to keep this between myself and Alastair."

He thought this would give her down and make her apologize. "Alastair wouldn't have sent someone else, and he didn't solicit help from myself," she said instead. "He would've given time to you both to collect your minds, and then come to you in clearer mind."

It was right. He knew it was. "So this parley is all you?"

"As I said, Yes. I worried for my friend, who happened to be your partner."

Thomas brushed his thumb on the spine of the book, musing over her words. "Why would you be worried?"

"He stood me up. I came by your flat later, just for him to say nothing has happened. When I asked where you were, he conceded you two had a big bump in the road."

"That's a nice way to put it," Thomas murmured. "I frankly wished to be left alone. It's nothing-"

"Thomas," Her amber eyes met hazel ones. "You are good at many things. Fighting demons, and keeping the rest of the Thieves out of trouble, for example."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Lying is not one of them."

Thomas swallowed, endeavoring to hide the feeling of hurt off his face. Recalling what happened a few days before made his whole body ache in pain. "So Alastair and I had a row. It always happens with lads."

"It's not just a lad for you," she pressed. He was wide aware of the chastisement in her words. "It's Alastair. And never have I seen him the way he looked when I checked on him."

"What do you mean?" he asked after he perceived her words. "Alastair was absolutely fine when I left the flat."

"You have to see for yourself." Ariadne said, "Go to him."

Despite the knots formed in the abdomen, he dithered. "Things ended up stormy when we last spoke. Maybe he's still mad. Maybe I'm still mad."

It wasn't just Alastair who was mad. He wondered how Alastair had been this past day, and how was he feeling, among many other thoughts. Yet the cloud of exhaustion and hurt surrounding him perturbated the nervousness. He was allowed to be upset about what happened. It sure wasn't nothing. Not on his part, at most. Why couldn't Alastair just-

"Excuses are not appreciated," Ariadne announced, "So you better confront him already, or I swear I shall chase you to the end of the Earth with my electrum whip." Ariadne threatened, and that what had taken to wake Thomas out of his hesitation.

"Of course," he sighed, "Because I don't have enough troubles already."

She brushed it off again with a smile, and Thomas felt mildly annoyed. He hadn't shown it. "Sort it out. It will benefit the two of you to tackle the problem."

She left no place for arguments. Utterly abandoning the book, Thomas rose to his feet and went to leave the room.

He was glad to get out of the grip of this confusing confab, but he was even more unsure if to listen to her advice.

He was still angry with Alastair.

~~~~~

A veil of fog surrounded the city. It was a prevalent London day, cool and cloudy. The wind is blowing hard, welcoming passersby in a burst of freezing breeze. A thunderstorm on its way, they said.

But those were the last of things that perturbed Alastair's peace of mind. It matched his mood just fine. If someone was to describe him, curled up on his bed alone, he could imagine being portrayed as forlorn and tormented.

No, what bothered him was a particular someone that left and hasn't returned. Alastair hated he still hoped Thomas would return and make him less cold.

His breath was heavy, and his lungs burned like fire. He remembered words that haunted him for weeks in the past. I believed you were more than what others said about you. I conceived myself beneath all the harsh words, was someone with a kind soul waiting to be seen. Was it all a lie I told myself?

Darkness flooded his senses. Trying to get any portion of self-control on his body he could, Alastair rose to his feet, glancing out of the window on unsteady legs without seeing anything at all. Gather yourself together.

But the words burned deep then, and they burned deep now. That was a battle against himself he meant to lose. The cold spread not only from the world beyond the window but from within him. It pulled out his ugly head, writhing and furious, desperately trying to break free and rise to the surface. People walked in the streets, oblivious to his troubles just as he was to theirs.

Thomas wasn't there.

Thomas wasn't there, and Cordelia wasn't there, and anyone he loved wasn't there. He locked himself in their flat for the past day, overthinking and speculating and wondering why did he have to be the way he is. If Thomas had finally realized he deserved someone so much better than Alastair, would he be surprised? Alastair was aware of this fact too well. The way he looked at him when they fought, the shaky hands when he opened the door, and the hours of waiting in case Thomas will return, just for nothing to happen. What does it mean if not that Alastair finally made Thomas give up and leave?

This inner part of him was crying, demanded to be heard, to be set free. A shrill cry came to his ears, and it took him a moment to perceive it belonged to him.

His vision became vague, his head ached, and everything spun around. He tried to lay a hand on the wall - only to find he miscalculated the distance and fell ungracefully on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest while the darkness tried to pull him in; He tried to take a breath and dozens of small knives tore his lungs up. He shrank, gasping for air that didn't come.

Everything seemed blurry, all his mind could engross in was the words Thomas Lightwood told him, the cold truth dripping from them, freezing Alastair all over again.

Alastair was accountable for all the hideous things he'd done and said, unquestionably. How weak is he that he hides behind shallow faces and vicious words? What a dolt he is, hurting a person, mainly the only person outside of his family that seemed to genuinely care for him. His words rang in his head, Thomas's voice haunting every corner.

He sank lower, his breathing gurgling, reaching out in search of something stable, something that would serve as a pillar in the chaos that ensued around him. His hand extended out to the still air and then groped for something to hold on the floor. That came the way of a cold, sharp object that lay on the ground. He gripped it tightly, and he groaned in pain and relief at the physical ache that eased his mind.

"Alastair?" A voice called.

~~~~~

Thomas was about to lose his right mind. Alastair was trembling vigorously, barely able to stand on his feet that were shaking like a leaf swaying in the wind.

"Alastair," Thomas stuttered, with no response back. His indignation vanished to immediate panic. "Alastair?" he repeated more stubbornly.

His chest went up and down quickly; His eyes were wide like that of a deer caught in the automobile light. When Thomas tried to take a step toward him, the smaller man stiffened and stood bolt upright. Thomas stopped dead.

"I came at the behest of Ariadne," he said, just for the sake of talking. Alastair hadn't told him to quiet, so he kept going. "And because I was worried about you."

"Leave," Alastair hissed out frantically. Thomas couldn't stop the throbbing burn striking through his body.

Thomas took a few steps back, allowing Alastair his space. He had no temptation to leave as he requested - Thomas simply waited aside, for a chance Alastair would change his mind. He recalled the nights he woke up from a nightmare, dazed and overwhelmed with emotions, and how Alastair always reassured him in the dead of night.

This Alastair seemed lost in his own mind, unable to escape, and it terrified Thomas. Yet, he shoved the dread aside and put on the most relaxing facade he could. He was told to be quite good at it.

"I'm right here, Azizam."

"Everyone leaves. You can do as well."

Somewhere in his mind, the pieces joined together, like a colossal puzzle. Was he afraid Thomas would leave him? That he would give up on him? he told him he could leave in their run-in, because he thought everyone will leave him in the end?

"I don't know. I don't know how to do it." To cease making the wrong decision. To cease pushing people away. To cease hurting people. "man nemidânam."

"Alastair, can you hear me?"

As he found out, Alastair did not hear him. "I don't want to hurt you. I already hurt you so much." Alastair went on, choking on his own words. Thomas was in full panic mode, and he hurried further toward Alastair with barely contained alarm.

I find you worth any pain to come, Thomas thought.

"It's fine," Thomas said. "I am fine. I want you to be fine as well. It's much more important to me than whether you may or may not harm me."

Something split in his face, and he took a deep breath down his throat. His eyes snapped to Thomas. The terror on his face made Thomas's heart sink.

"Alastair?" he asked, but it didn't manage to elicit a response from the other man.

Thomas drew closer to Alastair, not missing the flinch passing the half-Persian's body. Thomas could hear his breath, shallow and trembling. He could painfully see the tremor of his hands. The wide eyes that so clearly tried to hold back tears. He took one step closer, and Alastair took one back.

Thomas imminently came to a halt. Alastair squeezed hard against the wall. He looked like a captive animal on the verge of losing hope, a man pushed to the edge, an injured soul.

Thomas took one step closer. With his enormous figure, it all needed to reach Alastair. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man, didn't let go even when Alastair squirmed, trying to shove him aside, fought to set free from Thomas's grip. His hold only tightened, and he used his strength to shove Alastair's head into his chest. He kept him close, kept even when Alastair protested, kept his hold when Alastair Surrendered abruptly, sinking into the soft material of Thomas's clothing, even when sobs began and his chest got wet from the tears of his love.

Thomas pressed his lips to the dark hair, held Alastair steadily while he cried. No words of reassurance passed between them. Truly, Thomas wasn't sure Alastair would have heard him if he tried. He knew the touch was what Alastair needed. Their embrace was clumsy and distorted, but it was enough. Enough to tell Alastair he wasn't alone; Thomas wouldn't have let him go through this alone.

With a soft sigh, Thomas finally let loose of his grip. He started to pull away and was surprised when he felt fists clasping on the fabric of the front of his sleeveshirt.

"Please," Alastair whispered desperately."Please hold me."

Thomas couldn't find it in himself to deny it to Alastair. They slipped to the floor. Alastair buried his face in Thomas's chest once again, shaking silently. Thomas felt his mouth forming words on his chest, although he could not tell which. All the while, his hands embraced the slim, shaking form of Alastair.

A few minutes had passed. Or an hour. Or a couple of days. Thomas didn't feel the time had passed while he tried to console his beloved one. He closed his eyes and concentrated on moving his hand on Alastair's small back, kept him close. The other hand came to caress the space between his ear and jawline, where he was creating circles on the tender skin.

Slowly, The dark-haired's breath became more even.

"Here you are," Thomas let a breath of both exhaustion and relief leave his body. "Can you hear me, Eshgham?"

"Y-Yes."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"No."

Thomas sighed inertly as he held the other gentleman in his warm hands, promising reassurance and no judgment. Alastair, for the matter, clang to him as if he was drowning and Thomas was his only lifeline.

He never liked to fight with Alastair. It rarely happened, but when it did it left a bitter taste in his mouth and a pang at his heart. But he was not going to give up - not on this. He remembered his mother once told him couples fight, sometimes, because they still care about what the other does. It was their first argument with their new agreement. It didn't make him feel any better at the time. All his life he had been surrounded with unconditioned love, never exposed to the arguments and the imperfect details. It made him view love as just sweet and honey, while he learned that there's more with Alastair.

There's the giving. And the receiving. The trust in the other's intentions and the willingness to make them your priority foremost of all. The disagreements make you understand when your boundaries are and open a place for learning and acceptance. The balance you build with time, something he hoped he could shape with the man in front of him.

The trust part, to his belief, was something they still were working on. Alastair had leaned on him, and Thomas wondered it he thought now he calmed down, Thomas would leave him again. He did the last time.

"I'm not leaving," They locked eyes, and for some reason, he felt hope. "Alastair, I'm not leaving."

There are very few things he wanted more than Alastair. Verily, He was what he longed for above everything else. He wanted Alastair and everything he was.

Alastair didn't answer, but he averted his eyes.

"Are you ready to go now?"

Alastair seemed slightly lost, but he nodded and weakly stood on his legs. He followed Thomas while Thomas flung himself up and let Alastair sat on their bed beside him. The comfortable place always made both feel better - The mix of English and Persian and Spanish books on the bookshelves. The notebooks full of poems Thomas kept beside his side of the bed. Alastair's spears collection. The artworks they bought when they visited art galleries.Even the soft yellow light was a source of relief.

"You are mad," proclaimed Alastair in a hoarse voice.

"So are you," Thomas returned. Alastair shook his head, and Thomas's eyebrows rose. "So what then, if not mad?"

"Mostly nauseous," Alastair murmured, managing to startle a breathy chuckle out of Thomas. "But also bloody exhausted."

Thomas fumble after the right words, before deciding he should be candid. "I didn't like being apart from you in those few days. But I stick to what I told you before, Alastair." He saw it happening - the wall of defense Alastair was building up again after the last one had crushed. "Let me bring some fresh air into here."

Thomas tried to ventilate the room well while Alastair sank into the mattress and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "If you call the London foggy, polluted air fresh, then sure."

A bit of relief passed because of Alastair's quip. He didn't lose it. "It seems you and my father share this opinion."

Thomas scanned Alastair, then noticed the cut on his right palm. Absentmindedly, he approached his side.

"Why did you do it?"

It took Alastair a moment to conceive what he was referring to. He hastily covered it with his other hand, but Thomas saw it. "I - didn't mean to."

Thomas watched the cut in awe as if it was imaginary. However, when he grazed the skin, Alastair winced.

Thomas wasn't sure how to counter this. Their fight. What just happened. Alastair didn't either. Or did he wish to pretend none of this happened? That he -both of them- weren't hurt?

This thought wasn't toleratable to Thomas.

And that's why, after he took his stele out of his dresser and was applying an iratze on Alastair's forearm, that he asked, "I want to talk about what happened the day before yesterday."

He could feel Alastair stiffening, his muscles tensing. "I was upset," Alastair said cautiously. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, Tom."

"You shouldn't have," Thomas agreed. He was done with the iratze and put the stele aside. "But that's not why I'm distraught."

Alastair shot him a tumultuous look. Thomas took a deep breath before looking Alastair dead in the eye. "You were upset, but you wouldn't tell me why. You grumble about things relentlessly, but when you're truly shaken you don't share at all. It's not - just this argument. It's not just one thing. Those small moments you hesitate whether to tell me the truth. The times you don't." He inhaled, letting the cold air fill his lungs. He resisted looking away from Alastair's face, didn't let his eyes flutter around the room like they were trying to do. "Love is also built on trust and communication. If we don't have those, what is left?" He didn't need to hear Alastair's reply. "We talk, and we share, yet I cannot understand why you're so grumpy at times. I need you to tell me."

"Can't one just be pissed off at the world?"

"Alastair."

"Many things can upset me," Alastair said. Thomas might have hallucinated it, but his voice was a bit shaky. "Do you want to hear them all?"

"Yes," Thomas answered immediately. His tone was sincere.

Alastair's hand reached to the other side of the bed, a nonverbal request. They still couldn't stop staring at each other. But not playfully, or lovingly, but earnestly.

Alastair, naked of his facade and any snide remarks. Alastair, whom he grew to know and rarely showed up to many else.

I do trust you. I care for you. were the meaning behind Alastair's gaze. All Thomas wanted is to lean on and forget everything. But still - it was not his pride making him relucent. That was much deeper than that.

He lingered there just for a moment too long, enough to make Alastair believe he declined the request, and his hand quirked in pain for a moment. His face became emotionless - and Thomas had feared he misleadingly deceived Alastair that he didn't want them after all. That he didn't want him.

In moments, he climbed on the bed. He coddled Alastair, silently and diligently. "Tell me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Alastair retorted eventually. He rubbed his eyes and laid back on the bed board. Then after a moment. "Everything."

"I hate it when I see you suffer and I don't know why," Thomas whispered. "I want to help. More than anything. But you push me away and I am left to think it might be because of me, because-"

"No," Alastair said firmly, extending his hands to cup Thoams's. "You have never been anything but good to me. It's just-," he broke off.

Thomas searched his foggy eyes. "I don't blame you," he told him, "If it's hard for you. But trust me enough to tell me what bothers you, thus we could face it together." He collected his hands in his own, lifting them so he could kiss his knuckles. "I know I want to stand by your side whatever the cost." he was certain about that; No whirlwind to come could change it. "Will you let me?"

Instead of an answer, Alastair kissed him.

Thomas knew he was kind, forgiving, trusting. He knew Alastair was slow to trust, slow to reveal his true feelings, hiding behind sharp words to secure himself from being harmed by people close to him. He knew the world broke his heart - so viciously, and that he took the pieces that were left. It was undoubtedly hard. Alastair had changed so much, yet Thomas wanted to understand, to reassure Alastair they were in this together.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair said when they pulled away. "I will try."

Thomas smiled at the endearment term. His heart was throbbing fast. "I was mad," he confessed, "because you refused to tell me what's wrong. You pretended. And I - I don't want facades, my love. I want the truth. I want you."

"I don't want to be weak around the people I love," Alastair whispered, and Thomas understood. To what extent did he fear that if he shows weakness, his friends and family would suffocate him again, shield him from the world as they did when he was younger? How much he feared at slightest of weakness shown, he would be smothered as Thomas had been when he was too small, too fragile?

But Alastair never did that. He supported him in his way, allowed him to be weak without acting as if Thomas was made of glass. "So not weak to everyone," He was astonished he found it in himself to laugh softly. "Each other will be enough. We can be vulnerable with one another."

Alastair stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Okay."

"This is just another way of trust."

So Alastair told him. He told him about the rumors he heard from the London enclave about his family, the looks he had gotten. Of the words of people who were white while Alastair was brown. He didn't mind, much, but it drew attention to his family. And to Thomas. Respectable family and a kind heart seemingly weren't enough to make the rumors - and who spread them - silence. The opposite is correct - the fire burned even brighter, and its flame was like cutting knives. The people who matter didn't care about their agreement, and Alastair long stopped paying attention to rumors. But when it was about Thomas, he said, he had been furious. The stories unfolded, the truth shone through, and the more Alastair talked - not just about rumors, but on the way some of the people treated him, of the Cornwall's townhouse and its residents, the things his soul troubled about were finally out.

Thomas listened, understood, stroked Alastair's cheek when he seemed to start shaking again, but now out of relief instead of concealed agony.

They sunk into a comfortable silence in the end. Up until Alastair inquired, "You were out for so long. Where were you?"

"At the institute," Thomas replied. The concept of coming back to his parents' townhouse, admitting the quarrel, rewinding it all in his head countless times while enduring Sophie and Gideon's worrying looks, was nothing he wished to do. "Or somewhere I could avoid anyone."

"And now?" he asked tentatively. "You come back?"

"I have no intentions to leave this bed even if Ariadne herself will come to pluck me off the sheets." He affirmed.

Alastair's smirk became genuine this time. "Ariadne was here today."

When Thomas said "I know" he got a quizzical look from Alastair so he supplied, "She found my whereabouts and made me go confront you. Not much subtly, may I add."

"Yes. This jinx made me open up the door and refused to leave until I told her what happened."

Thomas silently laughed.

"I..suppose it was rather cathartic," Alastair said. It was evening now, Thomas noted, and none of them found it in themselves to get up and eat supper. They just kept their bodies close, relishing their air of comfort.

"Indeed. This, this was good. Splendidly better than reading the same page over and over again in the Devil's tavern or pretending to care what waistcoat Matthew is taking to the impending party at Anna's flat."

"You thought the place you and your squad go to hide is the best place to hide from them?" Alastair asked.

"It seemed reasonable at the time," Thomas murmured. "Each of us has a kind of hideout, have we not?"

Where was Alastair's safe hideaway? At home, with a book in hand? At museums, drinking in art and beauty? Was it hiking in the streets of London by himself and enjoying the view and the whispers of nature?

"You," Alastair said. Thomas hadn't realized he voiced his question aloud. A tired, small smile played on Alastair's lips, yet his words were soft, plain and simple. Their eyes locked, and he could feel how genuine Alastair was. "You are my hideout."

~~~~~

Dictionary:

man nemidânam - I don't know

Eshgham - my love

Hamsar-am - my equal head, my better half

#alastair carstairs #thomastair #thomas lightwood #the last hours #my fics #thomastair fics #for the matter Thomas does NOT know how to help Alastair in the state he was in. He doesn't know the right way to approach this.#They just found solace in physical affection so he found it fitting there too #I'm sorry #littlx-songbxrd #carstairstessa #Besides I take centuries to write because not only I am extremely busy (and sunk way too deep into the fluff fic and Choi)#but have to wait for inspiration to strike. It works not another way.#so sorry

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misumeaw-blog · 3 years ago

Text

13 Days 13 Fanfics | Counting down Albedo’s Birthday

Pairing : Albedo x GN! Reader

Genre : Fluff | Established relationship

Warning : None

Word count : 1,699 words

note : I can die peacefully now, I believe the entire family can hear me screaming. Day 13 will be based on Albedo's mail. I suck at kissing btw, sooo I tried

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 12 Moment of Birth Part 1: Midnight

Light from houses in the city of freedom starting to turn into darkness; but not all, liveliest place in the slumbering city in the lake still filled with drunkards and music from the bard. Angel share, is night-active with drinks and socializing drinkers.

You have a meeting with your friends to discuss what to give Albedo for his birthday, Although..

“You guys seriously haven’t kissed yet? It’s been nearly a year”

things seemed going in the completely wrong direction “Shhh quiet please, Captain Kaeya. It’s not a big deal, I understand he wanted to take things slow” Still, there are times where you yearn for more than hugs and pecks on your face.

“Our Chief Alchemist has really taken your advice Too well, Kaeya” Lady in purple attire and a large witch hat, decorated with roses spoke up “That little genius never opened up for this sort of relationship” eyepatch man took another gulp to his mouth “I’m still surprised you managed to make him fall for you”

“Kaeya, rude” lightly zapped the one-eyed captain before turning to you “If he doesn’t make the first step, you’d need to do it” she placed her finger on your lips “Alright, alright, stop everyone” you harsh your friends before things getting out of hand “I just wanted a piece of advice on what to give Albedo for his birthday, so how did this turned to-“ Yup, that sparked your idea.

Both Knights of Favonius glanced at each other then back to you “Do you still need our help?”

The following morning you knocked on the Acting Grand Master’s room “Come in” an assertive voice flew out from the wooden door “Good morning, Master Jean. Do you know where Klee is?” “Good morning, I think she’s by the lake near Wolvendom. Oh and if you’re going to meet her, please make sure she doesn’t explode all the fish” she spoke without looking at you, eyes on massive amounts of paperwork

“One other thing, Acting Grand Master. I would be greatly appreciated if you kindly grant Albedo’s leave on his birthday” you figured your boyfriend might need a day off, in case he wanted to spend time with you and Klee “Oh right, his birthday is approaching” she glanced at the calendar “Yes of course, please do send him my regards if I couldn’t inform him myself” Closing the door after thanking her, ‘alright, off to Wolvendom’ you recalled your plan

Explosions can be heard from afar, the little girl should be nearby. Fish flying out in the sky, big splash easily visible. A small girl in red clothing having fun tossing bombs into stilled water. You called for her and she turned around “Y/N! Klee missed you” red coat sprinting to you, hugging you as soon as you’re in her reach By now she sees you as another sibling, despite you’re actually dating her brother. “Having fun today mh Klee?” glancing at the amount of dead fish on the ground “Yup! The kind uncle at the fishing asso..asso..” “Fishing association?” “Yes! the fishing association told Klee there’s a bunch of new fish all over Mondstadt, Klee will blast them all” You know fishing normally is better for the fish, but you let it slide for her happiness “Hey Klee, I have to borrow your brother the day before his birthday; well, tomorrow, is that alright?” You crouch down to the little girl’s height “Aw, but Klee wanted to be with big brother Albedo..” “I know Klee, but by that time you would be asleep. Would you like to help me prepare snacks for Albedo then?” “Yayy, Klee wanna help!” “Alright, keep it between us m’kay?” Holding out a pinky finger for the young one to hook with hers

‘And to keep Albedo busy..’ You head to the fountain plaza to one of your boyfriend’s assistants, Timaeus. “Morning Timaeus, do you know where Sucrose is?” A bit weird to start a conversation about her, since you and Sucrose don’t really get along “Sucrose? I’m not sure. Do you want me to help find her?” “No, no no no, uh, Timaeus, I need you to help distract Albedo tomorrow, mild difficulty experiment, anything” “Is that all? All Right” Scholar alchemist agreed to lend you a hand “Thanks, Timaeus”

You headed off to your next destination ‘Alright, time for a hard part’ the last part of your plan is rather hard, you wondered if he gonna help you

“Mark it as done!” wow that was.. easy, perhaps it’s because of three high-quality bottles of wine in his hands. You asked.. or rather, hired anemo bard to play songs for the night and extra requested to let the wind carry the song to you.

In the evening, you have scouted the area you wanted to give the alchemist your gift and found the perfect place. An area where you can see both the city of freedom and the icy summit, high enough for the gentle breeze to flow, beautifully decorated with flowers and greenery. Starsnatch cliff, also the home of the flower which held meaning, the truest feelings of prodigal son, Cecilia.

The next day everything went according to plan. Light meal fully prepared with the help of the pyro girl, Timaeus kept Albedo busy so he couldn’t come home and caught you and Klee in action.

Quite late night when you knocked on Alice’s door, the blonde, still in his usual attire opened to greet the unknown guests. “Y/N? What are you doing here this late hour?” Judging from the angle of the moon, it's around 9-10 PM “Hey, what about me?” eyepatch covering male’s hand and he placed his elbow on the opened door, the alchemist only nodded to his presence “Evening Bedo, I would like to show you something, could you come with me please?” you don’t normally use the formal language after being with him for so long. He can sense your shyness from the way you speak and your body language “I’d love to go but Klee..”

You pointed to the man behind you “Don’t worry about little Klee, just go enjoy your time” he basically dragged the alchemist out of his house

Chitchat along the way, fingers intertwined with his “Not sleepy yet aren’t you?” you bent down and look at him in the eyes “Not at all, I’m rather excited about what you prepared for me” giggled to his answer “Good, 'cause the night is still young!” you have reached your destination, Large fabric covering the grassy ground, a basket filled with snacks lies atop, along with a flower vase to decorate the scenery. Log of wood has bags and books resting against it. The wind bringing the scent of white flowers and the tune of the harp. Moon and star shining bright, needlessly of other light sources.

“Didn’t know you had anything romantic in mind” he teased your boldness “..well, what do you think?” hiding your embarrassment and teases the alchemist back

Sitting down to the location you prepared, he started to examine the scene “There’s no musician nearby, nor to any instruments.. Am I the only one hearing the melody?” Trying to find a scientific explanation for a strange event “The wind carries messages. Was music not a kind of message too?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, drowning in the love you gave him

“Enjoying it hmm? Here, I prepared some light food for us” slowly getting plates and snacks out from the weaved basket, the fabric is soon filled with various types of dishes "You’re not gonna sit on your seat?” his arms tightened, head bury to your shoulder “..I don't want to move” it’s rare seeing him clingy to you like this “you’re adorable you know” finally commented on his action

“We got your favorite,” one of your dishes has turned to Albedo’s favorite “These are canapés, I chose bread base, topped with different types of savory” bite-sized dishes, you know he prefers smaller portions

Pointing to each topping one by one, explaining what each one is made of. In his eyes, you’re like a professional chef

“Bedo, check this one out” you pulled out Fisherman’s toast with clover ketchup, onions, cheese, and heart-shaped parleys “..Fish-Flavored Toast, Klee’s specialty. You’re so thoughtful, I have to thank her later” he pecked your cheek, definitely in love

“And we got desserts- after savory alright Bedo?” His hand was already reaching for the dish, you have to stop his fast hand Brownies, Berry Mille-Feuille, and a jar of chocolate chip cookies are all making him drool “Shall we dig in?” He suggested, perhaps the desserts engaging him.

Your hypothesis was turned down after seeing him having a high appetite for savory, you figured he actually wanted to savor your cooking

Hours passed and you both are finally full, cuddling against the wooden log, enjoying the melody floating in the air. His platinum hair reflects the elegant moonlight, half-lidded eyes resting against your neck, handheld on yours. You looked up in the sky- its almost time

“Albedo?” He replied with a sweet hum, glancing up at you “Do you know what day is tomorrow?” “..my birthday. but I still don’t understand why you chose to celebrate it tonight” “Wouldn’t be nicer to receive a gift directly after the clock strikes midnight?” Lifted his chin to face you, he’s so close to you, closer than usual

Both yours and his cheek painted rosy, he cupped your face and look deeply into your eyes. “was all this not my birthday gifts?” “nope.. would you like to find out what it is?”

Moon motions overhead, the clock strikes midnight, soft breeze touched exposed skin, the sound of the harp soaring in the sky. stars as the witness, Cecilia as the oath, feelings as vow sealed between the two bodies.

Hand slide by the side of his neck, placing on the backside and pulled him closer, half-lidded eyes slowly closed, chest-pounding hard, tilted your head to the side a little-

sweet lips finally placed on his loving ones, passionated and full of affection, butterflies flying in your stomach. After a while, you break the timeless kiss

“Happy birthday my beloved Albedo”

#albedo x reader #albedo genshin x reader #albedo x you #albedo x gn reader #13Days13AlbedoFanfics #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader

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blueroseblaze · 4 years ago

Text

Devil May Cry INK

New Devil May Cry Nero x GN!Reader tattoo!AU series based on the lovely work by @hennatheantenna

also available on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203587

Please enjoy this first installment

The shop was quiet, save for the soft sweeping and the low hum of the radio. The Sunday early evening light shining through the windows was blinding if you weren’t sitting in the right spot. The orange lights cascading through the front windows warming the waiting area. It was a nice respite from an otherwise busy day.

Nero sat behind the counter, thumbing through, and counting the stack of cash with practiced speed and rhythm before placing it back in the register drawer. He glanced up at V who was too preoccupied sweeping the storefront floor and being distracted by the sleeping black shop cat on the windowsill.

“When is this new artist coming in?” V asked in his normal low poetic voice, not even looking In Nero’s direction while speaking.

“They should be here in a few minutes, we agreed on 6:30 for the interview,” Nero replied.

“Are you going to hire them? Dante did give you the final say on it.”

“Their portfolio is really impressive, and Nico spoke highly of them. So, we’ll see. We’re short-staffed anyway so I don’t think we’re in the business of being super picky.

“Right,” V hummed before continued his cleaning.

Devil May Cry Ink had been short-staffed for a long time despite being located in a relatively popular area, close to many clubs, shops, and an active nightlife. With only 3 artists and one financial manager, they could hardly keep up with patrons when there were rarely all three artists present. Dante, Nero’s uncle and official co-owner of the establishment was remarkably popular and often traveled to meet in person with more high-end clients rather than have them come to their humble little shop. Luckily, Nero’s Father, Vergil, was more than capable of keeping them afloat handling the financial side of the equation.

Nero leaned back in his chair behind the counter, balancing on the back legs with his feet propped up on the countertop. He shut his eyes and sighed, listening to the low drawl of the radio and the humming of the vents that kicked on overhead.

But soon the young man was shaken from his half nap when he heard a knock on the front door, which had been locked at the end of the day.

“Is that them?” V asked.

“Probably,” Nero replied before standing to answer the door.

Nero approached the door and unlocked it, opening it enough only for him to stick his head out to greet the person and make sure that she was in fact their new possible hire.

“Hi,” they greeted in an excited but polite voice, “I’m here for an interview, I’m looking for Nero.”

“You found him,” Nero replied confidently, “Are you Y/N?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” they said.

Nero welcomed them inside, stepping out of the way of the door so that they could slip through and he could lock the door again behind him. they faced him, waiting for any extra greeting or instruction as V approached the two.

“This is my half-brother, Vitalie,” Nero introduced.

V held out a lanky tatted arm and Y/N took his hand, giving a professional shake.

“You can call me V,” he said.

“Noted,” they said with a smile glancing down as something rubbed against their leg making them jump.

“That our shop cat, Shadow,” Nero explained, “Don’t worry she’s had all her shots.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Nero led the young artist towards the back of the shop where there would be little disturbance. They tried taking in the atmosphere of the shop but found the man walking before them too distracting. Their eyes traced over the intricate blue and red roses that sleeved his arms, all the way up to the ink covering a sizable portion of his neck leading right up to the snowy white undercut he was sporting.

“Hey um, is your…”

“My hair is natural, yes,” Nero replied before they could even get a word out.

Y/N started to internally panic, their face going red as they averted their gaze trying to explain themselves and apologize, stumbling over their words like a flustered cartoon.

Nero chuckled, “It’s ok I get it a lot.”

Y/N huffed in embarrassment as they continued to follow him to the back room. The office wasn’t particularly big, just enough to fit some shelves, a desk, and a couch. It was mostly just a place for Vergil to get away to do work or discuss business, and for Dante to take naps.

Nero took a seat at the desk, pulling out a large portfolio as he instructed Y/N to sit down. He opened the portfolio and began flipping through it for what was probably the twentieth time.

“You can take your jacket off,” he said, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Y/N shrugged out of their jacket, adjusting their shirt as they laid it nicely on the arm of the sofa. Nero glanced up from the portfolio and stared at their bare arms and chest in confusion.

“Do you have any ink?” he asked incredulously.

Y/N huffed out a nervous laugh, hand moving to the back of their neck as they looked away.

“Yeah, I know how it looks. I’m just not a fan of needles is all. But I promise all that work is mine. You wouldn’t be the first to think it wasn’t.”

Nero looked back down at the portfolio. He was surprised at the lack of ink but had no reason to think it was plagiarism. He trusted Nico’s judgment so if she recommended an artist he would trust she knew what she was talking about.

“It’s not a problem I’m just surprised. I mean I was really impressed by your work it was just a surprise that you didn’t have any on you. So anyway, how long have you been tattooing,” he asked attempting to dodge the now awkward tension.

“About 3 years,” Y/N began, “I started getting interested in body art when I was young because my best friend’s dad owned a tattoo parlor in my hometown. I actually did my apprenticeship there before moving out here. I met Nico about a year and a half ago and we became fast friends and she asked me to do one or two pieces for her.”

“You ever been to art school?” Nero asked.

“Yeah! Majored in drawing and illustration,” they replied.

The interview went on with more questions and straightforward answers. Mostly about Y/N’s experience and a walk-through of their best work. A few quips and jokes thrown in here and there. Nero couldn’t keep his eyes off them as they went on and on about their artistic process and what inspires them. He couldn’t deny that they were cute. The way their eyes lit up as they spoke about what they were passionate about.

“So when did you first start?” Y/N asked, turning the questions back around on Nero.

“Pretty long time ago,” he answered, “My uncle started this place when I was like a toddler and roped my dad into it. Once I turned sixteen the old man finally let me get my first one. And when I turned eighteen my uncle let me start working.”

“I see you like roses,” they said, eyeing the expansive work on Nero’s arms.

“Yeah, they’re my favorite,” Nero explained, “Had them done by my uncle.”

The two of them had ended up talking for almost two hours, changing subjects to things like movies and music that they liked, and they found they had a lot in common. It was only when V poked his head through the door and reminded Nero of the time that they decided to call it quits.

“Can you start Monday?” Nero asked.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide and they vigorously nodded, almost jumping in their spot with excitement. They thanked both of them for their time before Nero offered to walk them to the door. They wished him a goodnight and he locked the door behind them. But not before exchanging phone numbers.

“They seem nice,” V said, smirking at Nero’s confused face, “And attractive it seems.”

Nero sputtered a broken response before playfully slugging his brother in the arm, causing the thin man to laugh.

“Just making an observation,” V excused.

“Yeah well keep your observations to yourself,” Nero chided, as he walked back behind the front counter. He reached over and picked up his leather jacket and blue helmet that matched the floral print on his sleeves that were hanging off the barstool. He slung the jacket over his shoulder and tucked the helmet under his arm.

“It has been a while since your last relationship, perhaps something could blossom from this.”

“Work is work, V. Don’t make it sound like I hired them just because they’re hot.”

“Did you?” V asked with a grin.

“No of course not!” Nero cried out defensively, “Anyway whatever, are you good to lock up by yourself?”

“Yes it shouldn’t take me too long,” V replied, “Can you feed Griffon when you get home?

Nero huffed in annoyance at the thought of feeding that little demon chicken.

“Yes, I’ll feed Griffon. See ya at home.”

V gave a subtle goodbye to Nero as he exited the shop and gave one last head pat to Shadow. Still smiling to himself at his sibling's flustered response.

Nero threw on the leather jacket and forced the helmet on his head, rounding the corner to the back of the shop where Red Queen was parked. He paused, letting his brother’s words playback in his head. It had been a while since he was in the dating game. It wasn’t like he was sad after his breakup; it was mutual and they remained on good terms, but he was getting antsy to the point that V had noticed.

Nero huffed, and mounted the motorcycle, kicking it into gear and speeding off.

Hope you enjoyed :)

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc 5 #devil may cry 5 #dmc 4 #devil may cry 4 #dmc nero #dmc v #dmc vitale #nero x reader #nero x gender neutral reader #nero x gn!reader #dmc nero x reader #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry fanfic #blue writes

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felassan · 4 years ago

Photo

Article: ‘The Most Powerful Woman in Gaming Wants to Make EA Loved Again’

Laura Miele is helping direct the company toward a future where it’s more attuned with consumers.

One of the first things Laura Miele did when she became chief studios officer of Electronic Arts Inc. three years ago was to gather 19 video game influencers in a conference room. “What do you want me to hear? Lay it on me,” she recalls asking them. “One guy sitting at the corner of the table, he just said, ‘I don’t understand why you don’t give players what they’re asking for.’ ”

[rest of article under cut for length, pasted as Bloomberg has an article read limit]

It’s something many gamers have wondered about EA for years. The $40 billion company, one of the biggest in gaming, is responsible for Battlefield, Madden NFL, and other megahit franchises. But many gamers have long seen EA as a necessary evil, resenting the direction in which it took some games and bristling at its aggressive attempts to extract money by charging extra for digital items in games that cost as much as $70 upfront. This dissatisfaction was no secret in 2018: Gamers spent their days filling up Reddit and other message boards with free advice for EA—but many felt its decision-makers weren’t listening.

EA’s leadership knows it has to improve that relationship, and Miele is a key player in its efforts to do so. Her focus group asked for new content for Star Wars Battlefront II and requested new types of games. Miele quickly assigned 70 people to the Battlefront development project, which dramatically improved its net promoter score, a measure of how likely people are to recommend the game. She also prompted EA to create a skateboarding game and committed to reintroducing its college football franchise, the two genres at the top of the influencers’ list.

In a sense, the guy at the meeting became a stand-in for all of EA’s long-suffering customers in Miele’s eyes. “I wanted to do right by this player,” she says.

As chief studios officer, Miele manages 6,000 staffers and thousands of contractors globally. She oversees EA’s 24 studios, where she makes personnel decisions and sets strategy, and she’s reshaped how the company uses analytics to create and market its games.

In the process she may have become the most powerful woman in gaming. In a 2019 International Game Developers Association survey, fewer than 30% of the more than 1,100 respondents were women, and few if any hold a more central role at such an important company. “It’s a tough place for a woman,” says Peter Moore, who was Miele’s boss when he was EA’s chief operating officer. “It wasn’t always smooth sailing, but she battled her way through.”

Proving good intentions is more important for EA than ever, as the business model of gaming continues to shift in ways that have the potential to alienate customers. Like its rivals, the company is increasing its focus on free-to-play games, making money through sales of digital products such as outfits and weapons for characters.

There are signs it’s succeeding. Apex Legends, EA’s free-to-play hero shooter game, has posted more than $1 billion in sales since it was first published in 2019, and it continues to grow. “The way to succeed with free-to-play games like that is to listen to and engage your customer base and earn their loyalty through incremental purchases,” says Doug Clinton, managing partner of the venture capital firm Loup Ventures, who says Miele deserves much of the credit for Apex Legends. “It feels like a proof point for her that the company is adapting well beyond traditional disk sales.”

Miele, 51, was born in San Francisco but grew up on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. She got her start in games—the kind that require a board—during family nights, when she pitted herself against her brother in Monopoly, Clue, Yahtzee, and backgammon. While attending the University of Nevada at Las Vegas, she worked at architectural companies. By the time she dropped out she’d moved on from receptionist positions to more senior roles, while gaining a reputation for organizing lunch-hour card games with her co-workers.

Miele landed a job as a project manager at Westwood Studios, a video game developer best known for Command and Conquer, in 1996. She eventually took over all marketing for its parent company, Virgin Interactive.

It wasn’t always a hospitable atmosphere: Miele remembers her colleagues expecting her to take notes at meetings, then clean up afterward. “That is just not something I would do today,” she says. “I adapted a lot because I was so passionate about what I was doing. I found my voice along the way.”

When EA acquired Westwood in 1998, she stayed on. At the time, the company did revenue forecasting by looking at sales data once a month and putting together spreadsheets by hand. Miele was tasked with developing more advanced analytics. She hired a group of data analysts, nicknamed “the Jedi,” and had them build EA’s first statistical regression models to examine sales trends, seasonality, and preorders. It took almost two years to put the system in place, but it overhauled the company’s business processes, and executives were soon using it to determine how to invest in advertising and promotions. “I loved how data and analytics can inform your judgment and your gut instinct,” Miele says.

Miele also decided to make one major break with EA’s existing business practices. In 2011 about 80% of game advertising budgets were spent on TV ads. But she saw how much time gamers spent online and decided to spend the bulk of the ad budget for Battlefield 3 on digital, downplaying other types of ads and cutting the TV ad budget to only 30%.

Messing around with the plan for Battlefield 3 was a good way to make people nervous. Miele remembers two executives calling her in for a meeting and demanding to know why they weren’t seeing billboards for the game as they drove in to the office. “It was scary for me, too, and I don’t blame our executives questioning me on that,” she says. But the game ended up being EA’s fastest-selling, moving more than 5 million copies in its first week. From that point, Miele’s marketing strategy became the standard for the company.

When EA signed a 10-year deal with Walt Disney Co. in 2013, Miele became Star Wars general manager. In 2014 she took over publishing operations, marketing, and other key areas, first in the North American region, then globally in 2016. At the time, the game industry was moving from physical disks to digital downloads, transforming its relationship with retail partners such as Walmart Inc. and Best Buy Co.

Miele was in charge of smoothing things over, explaining that EA would start competing with them for customers even as the retailers accounted for the largest portion of the revenue. “I never said to them, ‘Hey, see you later, we are moving on,’ ” she says. “It was, ‘How can we move forward together?’ ” EA began making physical cards with digital credits that its retail partners could sell at their stores, allowing them to share in the revenue from digital sales.

EA’s studios are spread around the globe, and Covid-19 altered Miele’s routine radically. “It was a very difficult year, and I’m really proud about how our company showed up,” she says. “I considered myself a wartime leader last year. You had to get in a bunker with everybody.”

Days became an endless progression of Zoom calls. To keep up with gamers, Miele started spending evenings listening to Clubhouse chats while answering work emails. Because she hasn’t been on the road, she’s also had more time to dine at home and play board games or Apex Legends and The Sims with her 16-year-old twins. As the pandemic retreats in the U.S., her schedule might change, but she still envisions providing more flexibility to her employees to work from home and office. “I do think we’re going to have a different work environment as we go forward,” she says.

Miele is itching to get back to the studio visits. She’s helping steer EA further toward smartphones. The company plans to release mobile versions of Apex Legends globally this year and spent $2.1 billion in April for Glu Mobile Inc., a mobile game publisher, while also preparing the next releases in its existing franchises. “I think the next Battlefield and the mobile shooter games, along with how successful the M&As come out will be key litmus tests of her management this year,” says Matt Kanterman, an analyst with Bloomberg Intelligence. “Her scope is clearly rising.”

— With Dina Bass and Jason Schreier

[source]

#video games #interesting..#long post #longpost

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mel-the-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Wildest Dreams

Henry Cavill x Reader (inspired by the Taylor Swift song and music video)

Part Two: The Grand Illusion

Words: 2,418

Hey Cavillry! Sorry this took so long, I just have so many ideas and it’s not exactly the best idea to start them all at the same time, huh? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this part, don’t forget to read part one! Also, side note, I finished Night Hunter and I reaaaaally enjoyed it, I think I’ll be writing a Walter fic in the near future??

fic taglist: @andromedasstarship, @januarystears, @inlovewithhisblueeyes, @legendarywizarddetective, @summersong69

-------------------------------------------------------

"Cut! Beautiful work!" your director, John, rose from his seat and turned to you, "Miss Producer, what do you say? Can we pack up and finally see our families?"

"You know what, Johnny?" you surveyed the tired faces of the crew and smiled at them, "Let's go home."

Hats were thrown into the air and cheers erupted throughout your crew. Months of ungodly call times and extremely close encounters with the savanna’s more untamed residents have finally come to an end.

“Before we go,” you stepped on top of a crate to address everyone, “I’d like to say a few words. Thank you to everyone who has been present throughout the past months…”

Henry watched you from afar, leaning on one of the transport vehicles with his arms crossed. It wasn’t a secret that the two of you had formed a relationship during your time there. Nights spent in each other’s rooms, hands in your hair, clothes strewn on the floor, whispered conversations about dreams unrealised.

It was dangerous, how much he felt for you. Just seeing you now, commanding the room with the kind of charisma and charm only you had, a pang settled in his heart. But he couldn’t dwell on it for long.

You squealed giddily and propelled yourself into Henry's strong arms. Never have you seen anyone look so ruggedly handsome in just a t-shirt and safari pants.

Your thumb caressed his stubbled cheek and pressed a tender kiss onto his lips, one that wasn't for the cameras.

They could write pages and pages of love songs based on the way he looked at you and that alone. You flourished underneath his loving gaze, feeling like you were walking on air.

"Go on and get dressed, darling. I've got one last surprise before we go home." he kissed you once more, winked, then returned to his trailer

Your cheeks were sufficiently flushed. Before we go home he said.

Did he mean it that way? Surely he didn’t. It hadn’t even crossed your mind how things would be like when you returned to America, was it so terrible that you were imagining houses with white picket fences?

Goodness, this was nothing like you. You straightened your blouse and marched over to your own trailer, trying to shake it off.

A few outfit deliberations later, you settled on a lovely pale blue palazzo jumpsuit, a matching headscarf, your signature white oval-framed sunglasses which you made popular, as far as you were concerned, and vibrant red lipstick.

You met Henry in a clearing not too far away from where you were staying.

"Well, well!" you marveled at the imposing aircraft in the middle of the field and you marveled even more intently at your handsome pilot,

"Just how did you manage this?"

He scooped you up in his arms and you decided that from then on, your favourite scent and view would be Henry in his leather aviator jacket.

"Darling, I figure I can manage just about anything just as long as it's for you."

“You flatter me, Mr. Cavill.”

Henry stepped away from you, propped a foot up on the little lift and held a hand out for you to take, “Shall we, gorgeous?”

“We shall.” you took his hand and let him help you into your seat

“Ready?” Henry asked from his seat behind you, rubbing your shoulder with a gloved hand

You placed your hand on his and shot a thumbs up in the air, enthusiastic as ever.

“That’s my girl.” he chuckled, guiding the plane down the makeshift runway

Once safely in the air, you reveled in its warmth caressing your cheeks, the deafening roar of the engines downsized to a somewhat pleasant hum. Would it be inappropriate to shut your eyes for a bit? In an open plane a few hundred feet above ground?

“Y/N, down there! How marvelous!”

The sound of Henry’s voice snapped you back to the present and when you opened your eyes, your breath hitched in your throat.

You supposed flying was something you would never get used to. The clear sky was a shade of blue you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, the clouds were white and wispy and you longed to reach out your hand and feel them.

"Down there, Y/N!" Henry urged you again

Once you did as he said, you realised why.

Below you, racing across the vast, sun-drenched grass was a pack of lions. The joy you felt was indescribable, seeing these powerful creatures roaming free, untouched and undisturbed by human intervention.

"Incredible.” you breathed, looking back at Henry

Once Henry had landed the plane, rather flawlessly, you'd say, a car was already waiting to bring you to the lodge where he had arranged for you to stay.

“I do admire an organised man.” you complimented breathily, batting your eyelashes at him for theatrics

“Alright, alright.”

His tone was dismissive but you were sure you could see the blush spreading on his cheeks. Henry bent down and swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal-style towards your ride.

"This is just glorious!" you took off your headscarf and shook your hair out as you waltzed around your suite

It was a stark contrast to the suites you usually took up residence in. Gone were the stuffy imitation French furniture and tacky wallpaper, in its place was rich, dark wood you were positive you wouldn't find anywhere else and a clean white canopy bed with cozy earthy neutral toned cushions, you thought everything was simply ethereal, but the cherry on top was undoubtedly the view from your balcony.

You stepped on, the gentle sunlight soaking into your bare feet and filling you with a kind of vigour and appetite for life completely different from the one you felt when you were doing your job. You surveyed the scenery ahead, rays of afternoon sunshine peeking through the tall branches of trees that resembled something from another world.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Henry’s deep voice materialised in your ear, his hands resting on your hips

“Absolutely.” you replied, twirling around to place your lips on his

Heat rose to your cheeks and further down south as your tongues met, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined. You broke away for a fraction of a second, taking it all in.

If there was anything your life has taught you thus far, it was the heavy handed importance of hard work and resilience, nothing else would get you very far. You didn’t believe in luck.

But as you stood there surrounded by all the beauty nature had to offer, Henry cradling your face with nothing short of devotion and admiration in his eyes, it was hard not to change your mind.

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“I think I may be falling in love with you.”

He looked absolutely stunned and to be honest, you were as well. This was uncharted territory for you. The number of flirtations and affairs you’ve had throughout your time in Tinseltown was much more than the tabloids could even guess but they were just that and nothing more.

But with Henry?

Before you could even anxiously retract what you had just said in fear of rejection, Henry pulled you towards him and pressed his lips firmly to yours. Somehow, everything he had failed to say was imbued in each searing kiss, each squeeze on your hips.

Nothing much was said for the rest of the day and well into the night.

The morning after, you found yourselves on a nature hike. Having heard from locals of a magnificent waterfall nearby. The pair of you trekked your way through the rocky crest of the waterfall, your finish line was a series of boulders, each one stacked by increasing height. You wanted to get to the biggest one, you were positive the view was spectacular from up there.

“Darling, are you sure you’d want to-”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy, Henry!” you yelled, slipping away from his grasp and vaulting over a rock

“Be careful, Y/N, Jesus!” he yelped, nearly losing his balance

Your laughter cascaded down with the rushing water. You ignored how your muscles were beginning to strain with the effort of climbing each boulder as carefully as you could but you got the job done, overlooking the glittering water below and the surrounding wildlife.

“God, this place is beautiful.” you marveled just as Henry finally joined you at the top

“How in God’s name did you get up here so fast?” Henry panted, placing his hands on his knees in an effort to catch his breath

“Well, maybe all of those muscles are purely for decoration.” you commented, unashamedly appreciating his physique as he glistened with sweat

He arched his brow at you, seemingly perfecting your trademark move. “Oh, is that so?”

You squealed as he hoisted you into his arms, then in a display of strength, lifted you over his shoulder.

“Purely for decoration, eh?” he laughed, descending from the boulder with you still draped over his shoulder

"Put me down this instant!" you chortled, all arms and legs as he waded deeper into the warm water

"Sorry, what was that? I can't hear you."

"I said, put me down!" you firmly clamped your teeth down on a portion of his back

"Ow! Okay, okay. Hold on."

Henry set you down in the water gently, keeping his hand on your hips, looking at you mirthfully.

"Madame Y/L/N," he tutted, shaking his head, "Did you just bite me? Not very ladylike one would say."

"Oh, boo hoo." you stuck your tongue out at him

“Getting cheeky are we?” Henry lunged at you, causing water to splash everywhere

You dodged just in time, appearing behind him and lifting yourself onto his back. He secured your legs and began to run as fast as the water would let him.

“Ride, my noble steed! Ride!” you yelled into the wind

There was nothing on the face of this earth that could ever make you feel as you did in that moment ever again, you were sure of it. At that moment, you were the happiest you have ever been in your entire life. That feeling would never be replicated.

You swam and horsed around for as long as your muscles would let you, when they finally ached too much, you found yourselves on the tallest boulder again. The sun had just begun to dip into the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in a million different colours.

No words could even begin to do justice to the miracle before you. Henry held you tighter in his arms and pressed an earnest kiss to your temple, you felt his shoulders fall as he let out a heavy sigh.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked, turning around to face him

The perfect happiness you felt just seconds before evaporated as you set eyes on his crestfallen expression. You lifted his chin up with a finger and offered him an encouraging smile, “What’s the matter, my love?”

He had no answer for you at first, turning away to gaze pensively at the sunset. All you could do was admire the way the shadows highlighted his strong jawline, you traced over it with your finger.

“Y/N,” Henry began, “Our time here together, it’s been the greatest of my life,”

Oh, thank God. You thought it was going to be something horrible!

“I feel the exact same way, Henry. It’s been heaven.” you reached forward and hugged him with all you had

You expected him to hug you back as he always does, but this time, he detached your arms from him, That’s when you had the sinking feeling that your relief may have been a bit premature.

“Please. I must tell you something. And as I say this, I beg of you to remember how happy we were here, how much we understand each other and enjoy one another’s company.”

Despite the fact that this was the most serious you have ever seen him, you still didn’t catch on to the fact that something was about to go very wrong.

"Now, come on, darling!” you chirped, “It can't be that bad! We can manage anything as long as we're together, can't we?" you stared into his eyes for any hint of reciprocation

When you found none, your heart began to pound against your chest. The silence that followed was unbearable, it was like waiting for your turn at the gallows but when he finally said what he wanted to say, you might have actually preferred the silence.

"I'm engaged to be married. And she is pregnant. With my child."

His words felt like a bucket of ice poured over your bare skin. You shot up and stared at him in utter disbelief.

“If this is your idea of a joke…” your feeble attempt at denial was met with a shake of his head

He had the audacity to look ashamed. Ashamed! The nerve.

This certainly was not your first brush with a situation like this. It was foolish of you to have thought of this dalliance as different from all the other ones. Men were all the same. It didn’t matter how longingly they looked at you or how many godforsaken times they brushed your hair tenderly from your face, they all wanted the same thing.

Jesus, was it always so damn cold here?

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, feeling much too exposed in your bathing suit. Henry stood up and made a move to put his arms around you.

“I’m alright, thank you.” you said curtly, stepping away from him

His arms fell to his sides in an instant and he looked to you pleadingly, “Y/N, please. I never meant to hurt you, it is the last thing I wanted. It isn’t what you think.”

“I think!” you interjected, your voice becoming shrill as the usual string of overused lines flowed from his heavenly mouth. “I think you are quite the actor, Mr. Cavill and it has been a pleasure to see your methods up close.”

With that, you climbed down the rocks as fast as you could without hurting yourself and took off in the direction of your lodge. You ignored Henry calling out your name, you ignored the rough tree branches leaving scratches on your arms, and most of all, you ignored how the illusion of you and Henry shattered into a million pieces.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill #geralt of rivia #napoleon solo #walter marshall #the witcher #the man from uncle #night hunter #nomis #cavillry #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #wildest dreams

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lorelylantana · 4 years ago

Text

Savageries of the Heart Chapter 6; Heritage

First -Previous -Next

Chapter rating: T Overall Rating: E

Noodle turned out to be quite the escape artist, if the flickering of a forked tongue against her chin was any indication. Zelda’s giggle swiftly turned into a yawn. Noodle wriggled into her hair until Zelda lifted her head so the serpent could take her usual space coiled around her neck.

“Good morning, Dove,” Link cooed softly, kissing her shoulder as she sat up.

“Good morning,” she said with a stretch. She leaned on Link’s shoulder to look down at the slate in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking through some of the messages that piled up over our honeymoon,” he said, tapping out a reply to his latest missive. Zelda’s brow wrinkled.

“Don’t you do that in your office?”

“I could do it in our office,” he admitted, and Zelda felt him smile against her cheek, “but that would mean leaving you here to wake up alone, and that wouldn’t be very hospitable, would it?”

She grinned and shook her head.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, booping Noodle’s nose. Link clicked out of his messages and brought up a schedule.

“I don’t have many appointments today, so I thought I’d give you a tour.”

Walking through her new home felt like walking through a dream. Her breath steamed in front of her, even though Zelda fel perfectly comfortable, if not warm. Her bare feet walked across frozen stone floors as Link led her through chambers carved into the mountain. It was a surreal feeling, walking next to walls of solid ice, light filtering through in tendrils onto the floor. On her other side was a line of doors. Curious, she opened one, and was surprised to find a bedroom.

“For guests?” she asked, though she couldn’t imagine that many would willingly stay in a frozen abode such as theirs. Link shook his head.

“Children,” he clarified, then caught himself, “Not that we need them! I mean-” he sighed, “I didn’t marry you to pump out heirs. That’s not how we do things.”

“It’s how my family does things,” Zelda said. She wouldn’t say that she was a natural born mother, but there was this vengeful feeling that had grown over the years that was determined to continue her line, even if it was just to prove she could. Zelda ran her eyes down her husband’s figure. At the very least she had a strong set of genes to work with.

“In any case, It’s the one thing I can do to honor my family, making sure the weakest link doesn’t break the chain.”

Link paused then, turning to look her in the eyes. There was a tragic look in his eyes that would make Zelda bristle were it not for the rage burning quietly behind the melancholy.

“Is that how you see yourself?”

Zelda looked down, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s how my people see me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

She looked up at him, a question on her lips, before he cleared his throat. “I think breakfast should be ready by now. Let’s go eat.”

An moment later, Zelda was seated at the table for breakfast, which gave Link an opportunity to help her settle into her new home and give her a brief explanation of what would be expected of her as a Warden’s wife. As a Mother of the Zonai she would be expected to handle domestic affairs. This included holding audiences and coordinating joint efforts between regions among other housekeeping tasks, handling the finances and presiding over festivals and rituals and whatnot. The Dragonlands were the political center of the Zonai, and marrying its Warden meant that she had an additional responsibility of leading an organization based on the Temple Mesa.

“Wait a moment,” Zelda held up a hand, “You mean to tell me the Hands of Hylia is a Zonai organization?”

The Hands of Hylia was a renowned charity that gathered resources from across Hyrule to redistribute them when needed. Their quick response to epidemics, famines, and other such disasters quickly earned them the reputation of the kingdom’s greatest first responders. Her uncle had poured a generous amount of money to the administration, if only to claim a portion of the glory and saving the castle embarrassment for it’s slow response time.

“I don’t understand. What’s the point in helping a nation that looks down on you so?”

Link leaned back, considering before putting his thoughts to words.

“You know the Sheikah once served the Hyrulean royal family,”

“I did,” Zelda nodded, “Because of Hylia’s blood.”

“Yes, but that’s not all. The Sheikah value knowledge, and so they served Hylia’s daughters, paragons of wisdom before they were usurped by their fathers.”

“What does this have to do with the Zonai?”

“Because the Zonai follow the Hero. At least, we follow his example.”

“I’m sorry, what ‘Hero’?”

Link gave her a quizzical look, “The Hero, the one in all of the stories.”

Zelda shook her head, drawing a blank.

“You really don’t know? No one told you? What about the history books?”

“My uncle had all the history books burned shortly after he took the throne,” Zelda said, in a trance, “Anything that referenced Hyrule’s matrilineal line was disposed of.”

Link cursed before getting up and taking her hand, pulling Zelda as he walked to the same alcove they materialized in the night before. He pressed a button, and they were gone in a flash of light,

Zelda expected her feet to form on top of the sandy beach, not the stone worn smooth by eons pressing against her skin like a well trodden path. Her gasp echoed over towering walls etched with a procession of men and women making their way towards the biggest statue of Hylia she had ever seen.

Zelda felt all at once so small yet nostalgic in a way that drove her forward, paying no thought to her bare feet and the casual slip hanging from her shoulders.

She had a place here, and she felt secure in this undeniable, instinctive sense of unity that swelled in her chest and seeped into her bones.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“They call the Temple of Time the birthplace of Hyrule, but this,” Link gestured to the massive statue “Is where your bloodline began, when the Goddess Hylia came down to earth and brought her light to the land.”

Zelda walked with him as he led her over the uneven stone, wrapping her arms around his right. After years of precious little physical touch, going to be with her husband had been the release of a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and found herself gravitating towards Link, who seemed more than receptive to her advances, holding her hand tightly in his while they walked upon the stone. They walked in revered silence until they finally reached the statue. Link took her hand and pressed it against the smooth folds of the Goddess’ robe.

A gasp fell from her lips, there was a hum that resonated in her chest, causing her heart to flutter. Link’s skin burned against hers, and she felt this surge of affection for him that felt much older than their marriage.

“Hylia’s line has survived for thousands, if not millions of years, surviving famine, disease, and several wars. Do you really think it can be extinguished so easily?”

Zelda shook her head.

“No.”

“Then we agreed,” he said, hooking an arm around her and bringing his slate around, “Now let’s go home.

Zelda had been sitting at her new desk when her translator began to chime. She glanced at her slate to see who it was.

Owlan (Resting Father of the Dragonlands)

“Owlan?” she said when the call connected. Was there anyone in Hyrule that wasn’t a Zonai in disguise?

“Hello Mother Zelda. I thought I’d see how you were settling in, and I wanted to say that you can call me anytime if you need some pointers for your new position. I was in your shoes quite some time ago.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” she said, before clearing her throat, “How are things in the castle?”

“As you likely expected, Prince Nohansen wasted no time in commanding your old room to be refurbished for his occupancy.”

“What was wrong with his old one?” she asked. Owlan chuckled.

“It wasn’t yours, of course,” was his snide reply, “You should know the Commissioner returned from his sabbatical, he kicked up quite a fuss when he heard of your nuptials.”

“Really?” there was no love lost between Zelda and the Commissioner. Her uncle’s right hand man was adamant that she spend her days in the castle’s shadow rather than lend her talents to worthier pursuits. “You’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me.”

Owlan hummed thoughtfully, “I’m concerned he may know more about the Zonai than he’s letting on.”

“I could say the same of you,” Zelda quipped, she got a chuckle for her efforts.

“Fair enough. How are you adjusting to your new position?”

“I’m still a bit overwhelmed, but well enough considering the Zonai’s true nature,” she admitted, dragging her finger over her desk’s surface. A list of ingredients she’d ordered scrolled at her touch. Zelda had made her order hours ago, but still fiddled with the giant screen. The novelty of it all hadn’t quite worn off yet. “I must admit, the bath was divine. I’ve never seen such a lovely room.”

“I wouldn’t know, so I’ll take your word for it.”

That gave Zelda pause.

“But weren’t you Father of the Dragonlands?”

“The requirement for being a Zonai Caretaker is a family tie with the region’s Warden, what kind doesn’t really matter. It could be a parent and child, cousins, even best friends, if they sign an oath to one another. I’ve never had much interest in romantic relationships myself, but I was more than willing to support my sister as she watched over the land. In fact, I think you’re actually the first Mother who married in for quite some time.”

“Is that right?” Zelda asked. It seemed the older her marriage grew, the stranger it became. And then, before her eyes, strings of light condensed in front of her.

“What is it?” Owlan asked when he heard her gasp. Zelda shook her head.

“Just more Zonai wonders I have to get used to.”

Owlan blew out a laugh, “I can imagine. I’ll let you get back to the intricacies of Zonai culture. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’m at your service, Mother of the Dragonlands.”

The call disconnected. Zelda shook her head ruefully, looking at the piles of fruit and herbs within her reach. With a swipe of her hand, the recipe for the Zonai body paint was on screen. She reached for the nearest Armoranth.

It was time she got to work.

#link #zelink #zelda #loz botw #loz #legend of zelda #botw #botw zelink #legend of zelda breath of the wild #botw link #LantanaLore #zelink fanfiction

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cakejots · 4 years ago

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this is us trying, Chapter 2 - The Rendezvous

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts. this chapter has 4 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

4. Patrol

“Our dates will be in broad daylight?”

“Yep,” Ladybug replied, popping the P. “Under the disguise of patrols.”

“So we are continuing ‘patrols’,” Chat indicated with air quotes. “I don’t think it’s very wise, my lady. Doesn’t it feel like we are hiding something from them?”

“So, you’re saying Parisians will be fine with us just going out and about on dates—”

“Yes.”

“—as long as we ‘update’ them about our relationship status.”

“Yes.”

“But we’re in the ‘dating phase’ and not ‘officially together’,” she indicated with air quotes too. “Also, you don’t want to date in the open, so there is no way we can ‘update’ and let them know we’re trying to be an official couple.” She sagged further down.

They were currently lounging on a random rooftop. Despite her best efforts at proposing counteroffers, she just fell short sometimes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Chaton, if you say sorry one more time, I’ll make sure I don’t turn up for our dates, then you’ll really be sorry.”

Chat widened his eyes in fear. No, anything but that, please! “No, no, please! I’m sor— I mean, please don’t.”

Ladybug sometimes also fell short at lifting the atmosphere around them.

“I’m just kidding, Minou.” She affirmed as she realised she might have taken it too far. “I plan on sticking with you for aeons.”

She slowly moved towards him and reached for his hands. “You know that, right?”

He pulled her into an embrace, her whole body lying on top of his. Ladybug rested her head on his shoulders and ran her hands through his hair, scratching behind his ears to reassure him.

“But,” she tried again. “Don’t you think Parisians will appreciate it even more if we appear as always? It’s like we aren’t forgetting about them, you know?”

Perhaps this wasn’t her brightest idea as of late, but she was still pretty insistent on it. She can’t help but feel that the pseudo reason would benefit them in the future.

“I guess,” he replied after a few beats.

“So can we?” Her body oozed excitement as she pulled back. “We’ll go on dates, but if anyone else asks, we’ll just tell them it’s a patrol!”

“As long as we take action when something happens.”

She became all giddy when Chat finally agreed.

“So, what do you have in mind for our ‘patrol’ today?”

Ladybug scanned their surroundings before her eyes landed on where she wanted to go. She grabbed his hand, pointed at the location and beamed at him. “Let's go to the fair over there!”

“Sure,” he smiled contently and agreed without even paying attention to where the fair was. “You’re so cute when you’re excited.”

“Am I now?” Smugness overtook her features.

He blushed, “You’re cute whenever, just especially so when you’re elated.”

“You know what’ll make me even more elated?” She leaned in.

“W-what?” Chat could feel the rhythms in his chest. She’s getting closer, so close that he could feel her warmth coming from her face. He swallowed, eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips, and then back again. Those eyes and lips were calling out to him, and he very much wanted to give in. If he could just move towards her a slight bit, her alluring pink lips would touch his.

Her face was millimetres from his, before she paused and booped his nose. “If you smiled more.”

He froze as she withdrew from him, took hold of his hand and pulled him up. “Come on! Let’s go before the cotton candy sells out!”

And she took off leaving Chat in a daze at her words. He shook out of his trance and followed her before he lost sight of where she went.

After they got their cotton candy, they stayed away from the centre of the fair, strolling at the borders.

“Do you know why I really wanted the cotton candy?”

“Because it’s a must-have when you visit a fair?”

“Well, you’re not wrong, but I get to do this too!” Ladybug tore a portion of her cotton candy and hovered it over Chat’s chin.

“Now you have a pink beard!” She giggled. “I’ve got to say, it does look good on you.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“It’s my favourite colour,” she reddened.

She felt his hands nearing her face and she looked down to see his blue cotton candy over her chin.

“What a coincidence, blue beard suits you too,” he smiled teasingly.

5. Milk

“Let’s sit here!”

They were at Jardin des Plantes and Ladybug had found a good spot that had adequate shade from the afternoon sun.

“You sure? There are plenty of flowers falling, won’t they get into our food?” Chat asked despite preparing to unroll the pink picnic mat.

“It’s fine! Besides, it’s romantic isn’t it?”

Chat chuckled and laid down the picnic mat on the grass before Ladybug put their picnic baskets on it.

As they sat down, Ladybug opened her basket and began taking out plates and wipes before taking out the sandwiches, cakes, and biscuits she had prepared earlier that day.

Chat was about to take out what he had brought when a cherry blossom flower landed on the back of his hand. Not the petals, but a full cherry blossom flower.

He seized it before it fell and placed it on Ladybug’s ear when she set down the containers before him.

She vaguely saw the light pink flower by the side of her eyes and narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you just pick this flower up from the ground and put it in my hair?”

Chat brought his hand to his chest in mock offence. “No, of course not! It landed on my hand.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I want to see it happen again.”

“My lady, I'm literally bad luck! What just happened won’t happen again for another million years!”

“Well, then it’s really good luck for it to land on your hand, isn’t it?"

He puffed out his chest and nodded.

Ladybug then lifted her gaze to see if she could get any flowers. Chat took out his baton and aimed his camera towards her.

“Buguinette.”

By this time she already had a flower in her hands and she focused her attention on him.

*snap*

“Hey!”

“Come on my lady, you look beautiful!” He showed his screen to her.

“Well, I'm glad we’re on the same page then.” Her arms reached for him and snaked around his neck to bring him in closer. Then, she placed the flower in his hair.

“Let’s take a selfie,” she pushed his hand that was holding the baton up into the air and changed the camera setting.

*snap*

“Now we both look beautiful now, don't we?” She said cheekily as they viewed the image. They seemed inseparable, Ladybug had both her hands around Chat’s neck and Chat had his arm resting on her shoulder. Bright smiles on their faces, Ladybug was leaning her head on Chat’s, their flowers visible by the side of their faces. They both really love how the picture turned out.

“Remember to send it to me,” and they proceeded to take the rest of the items from their baskets.

When she heard the sound of glasses clinking, she thought Chat had brought wine, which was why she eyed him incredulously when she saw a carton of milk on the picnic mat.

“Are you serious? Who brings milk to picnics?”

“Why not? To each their own!” He defended.

She frowned. “Because!”

He grinned when she gave up. “My lady, did you know I tried to get drunk on milk once?”

“What?”

Chat snickered when he saw the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Well, I don’t mean literally. But it happened enough times for the bartender to pretend that I was there to get drunk like everyone else was, even though the only thing I’ve ever ordered was milk.” He winked.

“You must really love milk, huh?”

“Can’t fault me for that,” he smirked. “I am a cat after all.”

“I wasn’t, but,” she held out a packet of milk biscuits to him. “What were the chances of us bringing something milk-related?”

He glowed.

6. Clown

Notre Dame is good for many things.

It’s good for France’s economy. The historical sites all around Paris are what attracts tourists from all around the world. Although not the sole reason, Notre Dame certainly contributes to the number of tourists who visit Paris.

Climbing to the top of the towers of Notre Dame offers a magnificent view of Paris. It is taller than all other buildings within its vicinity and on a good and sunny day, the Eiffel Tower can be seen clearly. Truly a sight to behold for anyone who wants the full experience as a visitor of Paris.

One downside to that is that wait lines to get to the top of the towers can take 2 to 3 hours. But not for the superhero duo, who can avoid the waiting time just by climbing up the Cathedral with the superpowers they were gifted.

Which was why they were currently at the top of the North Tower.

Notre Dame was also a great place for makeup sessions. There was nothing to block the sun from shining down on them, which gave excellent lighting for Ladybug to do her magic on Chat’s face.

“I was not expecting this for a Saturday date,” he grinned at her as she applied moisturiser on his face.

“Well, I’ve got to steer away from the norm sometimes.”

Once she was done, Ladybug picked up her makeup pouch from her side. “Is there any makeup you want me to do? Winged eyes, Smoky eyes, Visual-kei?”

“Make me a clown,” he said without missing a beat.

“Sorry, what?”

“You heard what I said. Make me a clown.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Disbelief painted her face. “But doesn’t that defeat the purpose of makeup?”

“Excuse you, I don't need makeup to beautify me further, I'm pretty handsome myself. Now, make me ugly.”

“But—”

“Oh you can’t do it, can you?” He quipped.

Fire lit in her eyes. “And what do you know about makeup?”

“Why my lady, I happen to be very good at makeup myself,” he smirked.

“Oh, so we’re turning this into a challenge now?”

“Only if you want it to be,” he replied with a teasing smile.

“Alright. It’ll be one. And since I've already started on your face, I’ll continue. I’ll do the clown makeup you so desire.” She emphasised it by shaking her pouch. “Then we’ll switch. But you can’t look at your own face until you’re done with mine.” She took out a mirror from her pouch. “And we’ll look at ourselves in the mirror at the same time, and whoever laughs will be the winner.”

“Aw man, I can't do the scary clown makeup from IT on your face,” he pouted.

“Course not.”

“Works fine for me.” And he proceeded to close his eyes.

Despite Ladybug’s display of confidence earlier, she's panicking right now. She didn’t know how to work on clown makeup, she doesn't even know what they look like just because she normally avoids them. Her only impression of them was that the faces were white. She's totally clueless as to how the eyes and mouth should appear to be. She really wanted to win, but with her current skill sets, probably not. She’d consider it a win if he so much as to release a small ‘pfft’ from his lips.

“I’m waiting, Buguinette.”

“Have you actually done this before?”

“Of course.” Dammit.

The only thing she could do now was to wing it, and she settled on applying white all over his face, before doing half of his face with her colours and the other half with his own.

She visibly cringed as she took a step back and saw her creation as a whole.

Chat grinned and walked up to her to push her down back to where he was sitting before.

And he began his magic, applying moisturiser before the white all over her face as well. But that’s where the similarities ended. He applied something on her lips first. Then, he drew something on both of her eyes before going to her mouth again. And he repeated this process at least three times before he finished.

Once he was done, Ladybug could hear her own heartbeat in her ears and she took out a mirror from her pouch. They sat side by side and Ladybug faced her mirror downwards.

“Three,” she started.

“Two,” he took over and grinned.

And together. “One!”

She flipped her mirror up and it didn’t even take a second before the both of them tumbled onto the floor, trying to save the mirror. Their laughter filled the air. It was so loud that tourists from the South Tower had to stop and search where the sound was coming from.

Chat was clutching his stomach, howling at the sheer ridiculousness of the makeup she had applied on his face. “Y-you don’t know h-how a c-cl-clown looks like!” And he bellowed further.

Ladybug was still trying to make sure the mirror didn’t fall from her grip, cackling at how she was so off the mark for the makeup she’s done on his face. “S-shut up!”

7. Height Difference

Checking out Marché Bastille was honestly not what they had planned for the day. It wasn’t even on their list of date ideas. But they couldn’t resist the amora that invaded their nostrils as they jumped across the market. They were greeted with vibrant colours and rows and rows of stores as they entered the market and decided to just roam around the market as their date for the day.

“Chaton, do you smell something?”

“Huh? I’m surrounded by the aroma of many things, which exactly are you talking about?”

“Aroma? Not odour?”

“Aroma.”

“Man it stinks so bad, do you really not smell it?”

“I really don’t.” He saw her face scrunched up. “That bad?”

She looked adorable though.

“Yes! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you can’t smell it at all!” She grasped his hand. “Let’s go before I faint from this.”

Ladybug walked ahead and pulled him forward, but he stood rooted to the ground.

“Chaton?” She turned back.

Chat continued sniffing the air, and when he realised that she was watching him, he bent his knees and inhaled.

“Oh.”

He had caught a whiff of camembert.

Ladybug gawked at him as though he had offended generations of her family.

He gave her a teasing smile. “I smell it now, it’s camembert.”

She was still staring at him.

He moved towards her, arms circling her waist before jumping away from the open market to a rooftop nearby.

When they landed, she let go and stomped her feet. “Tell me you did not just do that!”

“I did,” he taunted.

“I can’t believe you!” She marched away from him.

He snorted.

“I get it. You're tall and I’m tiny.”

“Aw Buguinette, you’re a pretty tall lady yourself.”

“No, no I’m not. After you did that to emphasise our height difference, I don’t think I am!” She crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks, and looked away from him.

“I’m sorry my lady, I really couldn’t smell the odour you were complaining about.” He strolled towards her. “And admit it, you secretly like it too.”

“N-no, your long-ass limbs are always in the way.” She’s still not looking at him.

“Oh? In the way of what?” He brought his face to hers.

Ladybug bloomed a brilliant red. “I-In… in the way of…”

”Yes?” His eyes glinted.

“Ki— I mean, hugging!”

He caged her within his arms. “Is that an invitation for a kiss?” He smirked.

Her cheeks were burning. “N-no.”

“Okay,” he let her go.

“W-wait!” She grabbed his arms and wrapped them around her again.

“So you want a kiss?”

Her heartbeat raced upon hearing that. Ladybug didn’t trust her voice, so she simply nodded.

Chat leaned in, and Ladybug closed her eyes. A feathery light kiss brushed against her forehead before the warmth around her vanished. She opened her eyes and found that she was all alone on the rooftop.

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