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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

Note

Your Stardew Impact has given me a serious brainrot and I couldn’t sleep on it so here

Imagine the boys getting Isekai to Stardew and meeting their (soon-to-be) s/o a.k.a the farmer who found them in the mines and dragged them out.

It’s basically the same as the original but the reader lives in Stardew universe from the beginning.

The Outlanders who trespassed the Stars [Stardew Valley + Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: You were a simple farmer who lived a simple life before crossing paths with these outlanders. A tale of greetings and farewells tells a story that loving someone was like looking at the stars in the sky; a sense of warmth amidst darkness, where the dots connect no matter what distance it was. But just like stars, they were meant to be unobtainable.

(Basically what happens if the boys get Isekai'd)

Genre: fluff, angst (faceapalm didn't mean to)

Characters: Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

(A/n): Hi anon, haha I didn't think the Stardew Impact series would be this enjoyable. Allow me to serve your brainrot. But just for future references there is a character limit! Also it long, a pro tip to use ctrl+F and type in the name :>

======================

~Childe's Story~

The day you met Childe was perhaps during the most fortunate yet unfortunate hour of your life.

Winter comes by, your fields were left dry, what else was there to do other than mining? You were aiming to build a new Barnhouse before summer comes, fishing only made average income thus you decided to take your pickaxe and hope to run into some diamonds, gold or even better: prismatic shards. However, expensive items could only be found in the deepest parts of the mountains, where dangerous monsters lurk by.

When peeking over the abandoned minecart you so carefully shielded yourself with, you began contemplating whether you've just dug yourself a grave instead. The whole area became infested, you weren't in the best condition and on top of all that, you were out of food.

You decided to make a run for it, with the treasures and goodies at hand, you couldn't give up. However, things only got worse when purple mist began taking over your vision, signaling a lava bat wave drawing nigh. It was thanks to your greed that you ended in such a predicament but it was also your greed that brought you to him.

"W-Woah!!"

You tripped with your toe pointing downwards into a pile of wooden crates. The bats swarmed in shortly after, daunting around the area above but you couldn't afford to look. Your face was down to the ground and you could only rely on your ears regarding their whereabouts. As if Yoba heard your prayers, the lava bats could not seem to find you, confusing them to think you've escaped. And so, they flew away.

"I'm never doing that again," The sudden impact was excruciating, you were sure that your lip bled due to biting too hard. At least the floor felt somewhat soft, cotton-like and warm enough to be comforting. Yet, for some reason it was also a little…bony?

"…Mn…."

Your body jerks up like a springboard when you felt something shifting. A man, no older than his twenties, no older than you, lays sprawled out under your form. He was beginning to stir and you panicked when a pair of blue cerulean eyes pointed into your seemingly shocked ones within the close parameter.

Too close.

The man gives a cheerfully wry chuckle, you could practically feel his breath almost, "Well this is quite unexpected, didn't think I'd end up in this position," he jests, soon his expression began to tighten into a grimace, "Mind getting off me though? With all due respect miss, you're a little-…heavy."

You scrambled to the side while still kneeling, "What the hell, who are you?!"

"Hm," The man didn't answer, instead he pushed himself upright and turned his attention to examine the surroundings, "Where are we?" He paused when he noticed how the ceiling was made of rocks, "Wait, is this a cave?"

"Ninety two floors deep and surrounded by monsters," you sighed in frustration while rubbing your head with your palm, "Seriously, whoever you are you shouldn't be here, especially if you're not even carrying the necessary supplies."

"Hey, I just got here. I'm just as confused as you," he puts his hands up in a defensive gesture, "But how strange," he mutters to himself, lowering his arms ever so slightly before pinching his chin in deep thought, "I swear it was the right portal…or maybe it was the other one? Hmmm, could it be the effect of the hidden seal?"

I have so many questions. You sweatdropped nervously. Here you were, hours spent to get to the deepest parts of the earth and looking like a cavewoman while his clothes were practically untouched, nor did they seem to be a recognizable fashion. You've seen many odd events within Stardew Valley but not to this extent, "Alright you know what, let's forget about it for now. We need to get out of here before those lava bats come back for us again. Otherwise we're toast," you gestured to the lava pool, "Literally."

He gave another one of his gleeful smiles, you wondered if he was afraid at all, "Sounds like a solid plan to me. Judging by the equipment you're wearing, you seem to have been here for a while. You know your way around?"

Figures that he doesn't know, you thought, "I'll lead."

"Glad we're on the same page. Though, we've only just met and yet you're still willing to help a stranger like me," he mentions in an off-handed manner, perhaps he wasn't used to generosity ever since being recruited as a harbinger, "But not that I'm complaining. You have my thanks, comrade."

"(Y/n)," you tell him, "That's my name. I'm a farmer that resides in this town."

"I see. A town it is then," he inquires, "Call me Childe, as where I'm from, not sure how to answer that anymore."

"What do you-"

But before you were able to question him further, a hoard of lava crabs were spotted crawling it's way towards where Childe sat. He shot you a confused look and turned to the direction, amusement sparks in his eyes,

"Lava crabs? You've got to be kidding me," your arms have already grown tired long ago, at this rate, you figured it may be best to pay a visit to Harvey's doctor office and check up for any muscle strains that have occured during the process. You most likely have considered how heavy your items felt now. Partaking in another battle would only make it worse.

"Ah an opponent, to think this place wouldn't have a set of new monsters to fight. I was growing tired of beating up hilichurls all the time."

His casual reaction caused you to scrunch up your nose in disbelief, "We're being ganged up on and your first response was that???"

Childe paid no mind, instead he propelled himself back to his feet using his trained reflexes and swaggered towards the crowd, "Relax girlie," Stopping just after a few steps, he turns his head ajar over his shoulder with a floppy smirk spreading his lips, "I've got this."

You held in your breath, wondering if you could trust this man. For now all you could do was sit back and hopefully regain some of your strength while observing by the stacks of crates that were abandoned years ago. The lava crabs formed a straight line in front of him, they were smart creatures, cornering their prey in a very well strategized form so that trespassing was out of the question. Childe wasn't intimidated in the slightest, he merely looked down at them with hooded eyes, flexing his fingers for preparation.

"Lava crab…in other words you're of the pyro element," the harbinger holds out his hand in front of him, trying to cultivate the shape of his bow, "A shame. This fight would end much shorter than I anticipated."

However, when he expected his element to manifest, nothing came out. Childe was left dumbfounded.

"Don't just stand there," you screeched, "Do something!!!"

"Wait," he halts you and tries to summon his bow again. Once, twice, as the crabs grew closer still there was nothing, "My powers…they're gone?!"

"Take this," left without a choice, you pushed yourself towards him and shoved Neptune's glaive into his grasp. He examines it with curiosity, but you knew this was also your own well-being you were entrusting him, "It's really easy to use, just-"

When a crab leapt forward, you ran back to create some manageable space for Childe to move in. He delivers a powerful slice using one arm, hitting the crab's weak spot while tossing it toward the side until a dent was formed in the wall. Your mouth parts, fast, he was fast, you didn't even have the time to blink. It was as if he knew the glaive more than you did. Though, the assumption wasn't that far from the truth. Childe was well adept with swordsmanship as he was an expert with many other melee weapons. Which is precisely the reason why he chose the bow as his main, a ranged device, the challenge to keep him on his toes. Just like he was now.

"He wasn't lying when he said he could fight," you watched in mesmerization, each single blow he delivered deemed equivalent to three hits on your part. Childe was both powerful and swift. He was formidable. The way he effortlessly deflected his opponents despite not having an enchantment ring made you forget how much of an idiot he was earlier before. Soon, the lava crabs began to lessen, leaving what remained of their dusted corpse while some retreated back into the depths of the cave.

"Not bad, it was kind of fun!" Childe laughs exasperatedly, glancing at his blue reflection upon the marred blade, "It's been a while since I last used a sword, and still haven't gone rusty either," he hands you the hilt, "Thanks for letting me use it by the way. You seriously got yourself a sick weapon."

"Keep using it for now, I think I'm a little too worn out to handle it," you say regretfully and pointed your nose towards the ceiling, "The mist hasn't disappeared so there's probably gonna be more monsters we'll encounter soon."

Childe looks up as well, "Huh I was wondering what that meant."

"By the way I've never seen anyone fight like that. Exactly what kind of place are you from?" You finally ask, "You somehow ended up in a cave, without anything to defend yourself with and it's not like you know your way out either. Are you...from another world?"

"Huh didn't think you'd draw that conclusion so quick," he comments jokingly, "Guess there's no reason to hide it anymore. Indeed I am from another world, at least, that's what I can tell so far. I've never encountered these types of monsters either."

You couldn't help but be taken aback by his honesty, "That was strangely easier than I thought...."

After escaping the cave, you introduced Childe to the wizard who lived in Cindersap forest, M. Rasmodius. He was extremely intrigued by the concept of an outlander and seemed happy to be of assistance. Since helping others was the culture of Pelican Town, you commissioned Robin to build a small cabin for him to live in temporarily. In return, Childe must accompany you back to the caves and make up for your losses. It was a mutual benefit since he had the opportunity to fight as well.

Childe befriended the townsfolk rather easily. On friday nights where everyone goes to the Saloon to enjoy their time, he would be found in the other room playing pool with the gang (Sam, Abigail and Sebastian)-- you as well when he managed to drag you along with him.

Crashes at your place when you were busy with the farm. You can bet that he would pop up suddenly midday through your window, “Can you use the door like a normal person???” But despite how much you get irritated by this habit, all bygones are bygones the moment he starts a conversation.

He sticks around as you carry your hay batches, sharing his stories. How the organization he worked in was a powerful militaristic force that had authority over many countries. But you didn't see him as a brute since he only joined for the sake of his parents, for the sake of his siblings and their dreams.

You thought of your grandfather who also once told you to pursue your dreams: live a peaceful life away from urban society. However, as long as the harbinger was with you, there wasn't much option for 'peace'.

"Tell me again why you dragged me out here? You know thatI still have a lot of work to finish back in the farm," you trekked your feet through the thick icy sheets with one hand clutching the zipper near your collarbone. It was incredibly windy in Cindersap forest and Childe happened to have convinced you to leave the comfort of your home for 'a surprise favour'. He purposely made a vague statement to draw in your curiosity but if you had refused-- well, that would have led to constant nagging on his part.

"You'll see," is what he said, it was what he told you through this whole ordeal. He lifted his chin to feel the frosty air against his face, "There's this one activity I wanted to try out. Back in Snezhnaya, I used to bring my brother to go skating out on the lakes. It's deadly freezing there so the ice is pretty thick to work on. Haven't done any of that since I joined the Fatui."

You shot him a deadpan glare, "That's why you brought me out here? Why didn't you just go by yourself?"

"Now that's cold (Y/n),” you rolled your eyes at the pun, “Can't you loosen up instead of throwing yourself in a pile of work all day?"

"It's not that I don't want to...I'm just very busy with the farm since it's the last day of the month. At least I want to do as much as I can before Spring comes."

"Haha you're right but you only live once y'know?" Childe noted happily despite your protest, "And like I said before, seize the opportunity when you see it. You never know when it will be your last."

You cocked your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Now let's get started shall we?" As you both reach the edge of the frozen lake, Childe takes a step forward ahead of you, "Have you ever gone ice skating before?"

"Yeah but..." You glanced at the glassy surface with skepticism, suddenly struck by hesitance. The thought of drowning made you retreat your steps right away, "I don't know Childe, it doesn't seem that safe."

"That's true if you're not careful enough," he pointed out, "Luckily you have me to help you with that."

"How does that work?"

He placed one foot onto the hardened lake and parts his mouth into a grin, "Watch."

In contrast to your cautious personality, Childe was considered to be more of a wildcard if anything. He loved adventure, just like you except his side often included bloodshed and the thrill that danger carries. You weren't sure if it was worth putting up with his antics or entertaining his idea of skating on thin ice, but you complied regardless. He had a way of delivering his words through that cheery voice you couldn't deny.

Prior to meeting him, life was boring. The corporate world was boring. You moved into your grandfather's farm in order to search for some form of fulfillment that Zuzu city couldn't give and you thought you did now that you had your very own farm, but slowly you began to pile more responsibilities than you could even count.

Everything you did, you did alone.

If it weren't for Childe, you wouldn't have learned the art of surfing on ocean waters. You never would have known the taste of mixing three different ice-cream flavours together despite what strange names they all had. Or what it felt like to mingle with the townspeople rather than mingling for the sake of business. Suddenly, everything became...fun.

Childe wanted to go far and wide. He was always running, so far ahead, somewhere beyond the stars as he could conquer the world to the point you might no longer reach him.

No longer reach him, huh. Curling your fingers into your palm, you renewed your courage and took a step onto the ice.

At the sound of boots tapping behind him, Childe spins around to see you wobble in your stance, nearly tipping over. He slid across to where you were and grasped your arm before you fell.

"Gotcha."

"Thanks," You sighed in relief, "Jeez, this is harder than I thought."

"Guess this is your first time then," he commented with a bit of jest, "Don't stress yourself over it too much, you'll be okay. I got you."

He carefully led you to the center, staying close in case you were to fall sideways again. You awkwardly tried to keep your legs straight, balancing on your own yet the fact that there was still water underneath struck fear into your nerve. It caused you to tremble and eventually skittered backwards.

"Haha ice skating isn't your forte isn't it?"

"I'm just getting started!"

He takes your hand in his before you could even protest, it was one of his many aspects that you found endearing-- the fact his impulse stems from genuine intentions, feelings, not giving them a second thought. The two of you glide using the soles of your shoes, he speeds up ever so slightly and the adrenaline begins to increase until there comes a rush of excitement, freedom. The stress you once had already forgotten once taking flight upon the ice.

"Look Childe! I'm actually doing it!" You couldn't help mentioning with a bit of youthful playfulness in your voice, "It's so smooth and fast! Almost like I'm flying!"

He smiles quietly from a distance, “See? I told you that you'll be fine.”

It was clear to many that the two of you were much closer than what meets the eye.

Childe began to notice the change in your aura. You were happier and much more soulful. Before you were always on the edge, cautious in contrast to his sanguine approach, he couldn't help but be caught off guard whenever you teased him. Or the sudden honesty that causes him to be flustered. By your side, he was no longer a Fatui Harbinger rather more of a puppy, adorable almost.

But when he saw that the reason you changed was because of him, it brought fear into his bones. Why? How did things get to this point? You were lost in a wonderland, ignorant to the blossom that had sprung inside of your chest.

Maybe it was better to be ignorant. Just live in the moment while it can still last.

"You're leaving?"

Standing at the gateway between the mountain cliffside and the starry sky, you call out to the man you've known in a way that carries more than what words could say. Because he left a mark in your years that could never be erased and here he was, trying to erase his existence completely.

Childe lets out a bitter chuckle, he didn't dare to face you, "I didn't expect you to catch up so quickly. You're quick-witted, comrade."

"It's (Y/n)," you corrected, trying to steady your voice so that he couldn't tell the expression you were making, "Why didn't you say anything? What makes you think that I'll just stay silent and let you go on your own way? This isn't a joke Childe! Don't act as if none of it matters to you because it sure as hell did to me."

His lips that held his usual smirk flattens into a straight line, "Even if I did, would it make a difference?"

The world stills. You knew the answer, he knew the answer, you just refused to admit it. One by one, the stars begin to collect themselves until a bridge was formed in front of him, on another day he would be enjoying the scenery alongside you. But today they would be for you alone to witness. The man who you spent your time with had slowly, regretfully, inevitably became a stranger. He was right. It wouldn't make a difference. You were already aware since the day you met him that he belonged to another world and you willingly offered to help him find a way home.

"You know, you could come with me."

Your eyes jolt open. His voice was so free of care. As if he was commenting on something so minor on a casual Sunday afternoon while accompanying you to the beach. But when you came face to face with the harbinger, his expression lackluster, you knew that he meant every word.

"Just you and me, we can travel across the world to our heart's content. I always thought you were an adventurer just like me and you know what, the farm life just doesn't suit you," Childe slowly extends his hand as an offer, for you it was a temptation, "So what do you think? Care to join me?

Your lip quivers. What he said sounded like a sweet dream that you so desperately wanted to take a bite out of. But even so, you thought about the townsfolk, your farm, your grandfather. Their images flashed in as if holding you back, chaining you to the ground, "I can't."

The answer pained you more than it did to him.

"Figures, this is your home after all," he huffs out, " Now do you understand? I can't leave my home either. If I did, heh, I think my siblings would despise me until the very end and I just don't want that. So no hard feelings, okay?"

You didn't reply.

"Don't worry. I won't pressure you if you don't want to," Childe turns back to the bridge, it was almost time, "Do what you have to do (Y/n), hate me if it makes you feel any better. You can even forget about me," he paused, renewing his resolve, "But I know I won't."

"Childe-"

You ran to grab his scarf only to have it ghost through your hands. He was relieved that he couldn't hear your voice, as he returned to Teyvat, Childe wonders what kind of expression did you have before he left? He'll never know.

---

~Xiao's Story~

The day you met Xiao...well, you weren't in the best of the best positions.

This was probably your sixth attempt trying to make it through all levels of the cave and reach the last floor. The quest had been sitting in your drawer for months.

Of course you didn't expect things to be easy, the fortune teller channel you watched every morning had yet to inform you with any good fortune and you would often bump into obstacles that would halt your progress.

But to be fair, sometimes the colourful ore would attract your attention and before you knew it, it was time to go.

So close yet so far. You dragged your feet tiredly against the ground. What time was it? Who knows. Judging by your state, you assumed it had already struck past 12 a.m.

However, today luck seems to have taken pity on you, just...slightly.

You puffed air into your cupped hands for the nth time, huddling deeper into the touch of your coat while trudging into the cave's cold climate. A little longer, any time soon, you kept telling yourself over and over but as if time was frozen, the wait felt like an eternity. Ah how much you wish to be in the comfort of your soft, fluffy bed right now. Though, merely visualizing the image only reminded how achingly freezing it was so you decided it was best to spare yourself from the details.

"I can't do this anymore..." leaning your head against the ice covered cavern, you whimpered, "I should have stayed home."

As you were about to shut your eyelids, something flashed by your peripheral vision. You darted towards the direction it came from, the light was a bright green hue against blue, could it be, "Warmth!"

It seems you jumped to conclusions too quickly. With impatience, you swung around the corner, expecting to find a heat source, only to meet something much more horrifying.

"KYAH!"

They stared straight into your eyes, those demonic eyes tainted by black and fangs that stuck out of the mouth like tusks on an elephant.

However, when the light evaporated you were able to have a better sense of sight, slowly revealing the monster's true form and the body of a human boy. He fell onto his back with a thud and you used this chance to calm yourself from the frightful encounter.

"He's...unconscious?"

You meekly crawled to where he lay and examined closely. Aside from the mask, there were various distinct features that stood out in his attire, his tattoo being one of them, imprinted in what looked like an eagle. You then realized how unsuitable his clothes were in this current situation. At least there were no injuries so far. But was that a good thing? This man practically came out of thin air as if some sorcery had been committed. Witches never left a good impression ever since they cursed your chicken coop. You were hesitant whether to help a stranger who could potentially be one of them or a creation they cultivated. What other explanation could there be?

"I can't leave him here, it's too cold."

Your gaze suddenly falls upon his covered face. The design, although intimidating at first, upon closer look was very alluring in it’s own way. You haven't stumbled upon anything like what the merchants had to offer in Pelican Town and the mask almost looked too foreign. Was he from the east? Curiosity eventually takes over and you gingerly reach for the mask, sliding it off his face.

"Eh...?" You gasp, taken aback by his striking appearance. A part of it made you feel this was no ordinary boy but that didn't mean he should be abandoned in this environment. It would be immoral to let him die in a place like this.

Before you could even make a noise, his eyes bursted awake, grabbing your wrist in a harsh grip. He used his other hand to push against your shoulder until you were instantly pinned on your back with no opening to escape. You choked a sharp sound as you stared with wide eyes. The man was akin to a beast, he had the expression to match it, like the glaring sharp gaze of wolves that roam at the mountain cliffside near Zuzu city and the ferocity of the demonic mask he once wore. You were breath taken but in a more fearful way as he continued to grip onto you tighter with the possible intent to harm.

"Speak!” He demanded, “What have you done to my powers and where have you brought me?"

In Xiao’s case, he was thrown into another world under the circumstances of fighting against one of Liyue’s unknown beasts. He was on high alert, thinking the fight was still ongoing.

You may look human but you could still be a threat. Xiao is the type to act upon instinct in the moment when something feels out of place. Like the spear he wields, he was trained to behave like one: to strike, strike down his foes without hesitation. Don't leave an opening for them to take the advantage. Xiao is a weapon and violence was what he knew best. He couldn't afford to lower his guard even for a minute.

You could say he left a pretty strong first impression to the point you were paralyzed. As he looked at your face, petrified and tense, he wavered and began to reevaluate things. Large doe-like eyes stare into his feline ones. They didn't seem to hold any sort of malice, was it possible for you to be the one who cursed him?

"Eeeeeek! I-I have no idea what you're talking about, let me go let me go!" you cried, "Please don't hurt me!"

Perhaps he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.

Xiao feels your struggle and eventually gets off to give you some space. Your reaction was understandable, he was used to it anyways. Xiao scoffed to himself, why are mortals so weak? Their strength, if compared to the adepti, was separated by a large gap (Like it always should be). Xiao kept his gaze averted to the side as you rubbed your wrist, focusing his attention elsewhere. He glanced at the vastness of the cave in front of him.

Why was he sent here? For what reason did it serve? Ever since he sealed the contract with Rex Lapis, the guardian Yaksha had never entertained the thought of leaving his country nor did he act upon it; he was far too loyal to his god to do so. But here he was, against his own will yet free from his karmic binds, stripped of his divine powers in the return of endless questions about this new found mortal-like form.

What should I do now?

Choosing not to dwell in any longer, Xiao rises to his feet and proceeds to walk the other way.

"Ah u-uhm sir, where are you going?"

If the universe wanted to test him then he'll find his own answers.

"Wait! Please wait up!"

"Tch."

Although he intended to keep going, Xiao heard you running to his direction and slowed to a halt, some mortals surely do not know their boundaries, "Hmph there's nothing timid about you. Leave me be," he demands without turning around, "Don't forget what I'm capable of."

Stay away.

"I-I know that," you retaliate weakly. Just by hearing his tone made you want to melt away and become one with the ice. He was a scary man indeed, the same one who attacked you earlier. But even so, "That doesn't mean I want you dead! If you go that way, you might freeze to death. Aren't you cold? You don't even have a coat on."

"..." Upon the mention of his predicament, his senses started to kick in. As a yaksha, Xiao wasn't able to be affected by temperature but now he felt his hands beginning to sting, trembling from it’s impact. Ah, so this is what it feels like to be cold. Still Xiao was stubborn and continued to push you away, "What happens to me has nothing to do with you. Now leave, or else."

"I-I can't do that!"

Xiao clicks his tongue in frustration. How annoying. This is why he dislikes meddling with meddlesome humans. But quite frankly, he wasn't sure how to handle your type of forwardness since most tend to back away. And so, Xiao does what he usually does, he ignores you and continues walking, eventually you'll give up on him anyway. However he hears a loud thump and whips around to see your body laying in the snow. The hours of travelling in the cave have seemed to caught up that you inevitably collapsed from exhaustion.

Knitting his evergreen brows together, Xiao lets out an irritable sigh.

...

You wake up to find the sky above your head and your coat draped over your shoulders like a blanket. Dawn was slowly rising above the distance valley, you figured it was around 4a.m in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you eventually noticed a figure sitting across, admiring the sunrise.

"Ah it's you!"

Xiao jolts ever so slightly, peeking over his bare shoulders until you could see the sun's light casted against his golden irises. Did he stay here while you were asleep? Then, that would also mean he was also the one who carried you all the way up from sixty floors below.

“You're awake,” he noted flatly, “If that's the case, then I have no reason to stay here."

Of course, that wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

You were a tenacious human being, always so insistent in dragging him away from his lonesome personality. He resides in the forest and camps there for the time being (similar to Linus since they’re both homeless lol). But you’d always run in, DAILY and sometimes for the most stupid and mundane reasons. It could either be giving him the snacks you snatched off the table since Xiao refused to participate in parties, or fancy seashells you found on the beach. You didn’t want him to miss out on all those things of course! Although he responds with irritation, it was as if his words went through your ear and then out the other. His efforts were futile (however, he was slowly warming up without realizing).

He learns how easily his body reacts in the presence of food purely because he was hungry. You bring an extra set of blankets and pillows to his campsite when the ones you gave him wore out (he didn’t ask by the way). Xiao needed help whether he liked it or not since he no longer has his powers, hence he couldn't run away. He somehow ends up moving in to live on the small islands near your farm.

Xiao doesn't understand humans very much. Just as he was unable to understand how human emotions work. He was the almighty yaksha, Adeptus Xiao and a formidable beast that killed thousands in thousands of years, at least that's what he used to be. Even now he still has yet to figure out what he was or who he was exactly without a weapon to define his existence. He was made for battle but nowadays, he found himself watering plants, chopping down trees and throwing seeds to the chickens living in your coop. How did everything escalate to this? It baffles him, how much his life changed so drastically.

Haha, you’re Xiao of course! The greatest farming assistant I could ever have.

But above all else, the one thing Xiao couldn't understand among those universal questions, is you.

"Why are you doing all this?" Finally he asked. The urging thought had been persisting at the back of his mind ever since.

You stopped on your tracks and turned to look at him, tilting your head with a complexion made curious, "What do you mean? Ah, did I do something to bother you?"

"I didn't say that," Xiao interrupts abruptly, he folded his arms across his chest and shot you a deep contemplating gaze, " You're...incomprehensible. All I did was drag you out of that cave yet why are you so kind to me? Don't you think you're extending yourself too much just because of one little deed?"

Because to him, saving a life was the norm. He does it unconditionally just like you helped him with those same intentions. Except, Xiao had been pursuing corrupted souls behind the scenes all this time and expected nothing in return. Experiencing someone's gratitude was rather new.

You shook your head, "It wasn't small to me," a satisfactory smile melting onto your face, "I'm here at this very moment, feeling the wind against my skin and smelling the scent that nature carries, these are just the few things I cherish. It's thanks to you that I can still watch over grandpa's farm, that's why I don't feel like I'm overextending myself in any way," suddenly you beam at him, "At first I thought you were a scary person. Haha. Time flies so fast, it's amazing how much can happen in between."

"Hn, you're a simpleton. But that's not a bad thing..." he points out curtly yet softly, "Do as you wish, I won't stop you so feel free to call my name whenever you need my help. I'll be there."

Xiao also finds you to be very clumsy. He couldn't leave your side even for a minute. But that was a lie. He just grew very attached to you.

When you tell him that you've been going into the mines for a quest, he tells you that you're far from capable. So he teaches you how to wield a weapon properly. Xiao was a strict teacher and he intends to keep it that way, he wouldn’t even allow you to set foot in the mines until he finds you capable enough.

You were a meek yet optimistic person, yet you were also strong-willed.

For a place that wasn't his home, he felt it was. And he found that it was all in your presence. Those peaceful hours hiding inside the barn while a storm rages outside, you sit beside him while hugging a sheep close to your chest. Xiao learns how to feed some of them, he even brings seeds for your hen house too. If you were ever short on materials, Xiao would travel to the enchanted forest behind the wizard's tower and get them for you, no matter how late it was. Though if you went by yourself, he'd deliberately go with you despite your protest.

The minute Xiao realized how much he was attached to you, it was devastating. As if the claws of his karmic debt had come back, pulling him into the shadows once more. He was an adeptus with a contract and bound by his duty, he must choose between his god who saved him from a nightmare and you, the girl he fell for, showed him that the world was indeed a beautiful place, he was stuck in an equilibrium and he felt that the binds may even tear him apart if he kept resisting.

But when did he ever have a choice?

"Where are you going Xiao?"

When he heard your voice calling his name, the yaksha willingly pulled himself to a halt. His sunset eyes narrowing from guilt before it shuts with a trembling sigh out of his mouth. Why is it that you always appear during the moments where he desperately needs to get away from you? He planned to sneak out the door, making sure his footsteps were unheard while you slept. And by the time you woke up, he didn't have to face you, he wouldn't have to say goodbye. He won't. Even if what he was currently doing said otherwise. He will never hear himself say those words.

"Xiao?"

Yet, he cannot refuse you. Not now, not ever. You were breathtaken to see a type of expression that you never thought was possible for him to make. The creases that once formed between his slender brows, the heaviness he always carried in his expression was replaced by a sense of sentimentality. Before you could register what was happening, Xiao took his step towards the porch of your house, not once did he tear away from your attention. He slides his hand beneath your jaw and affectionately against your cheek, the fondness evident in his gaze that you almost felt imprisoned by it.

"You never fail to appear in the most inconvenient of times," He gives a weak smile, a smile that makes your heart swell. Despite how much you could drown in his honesty, you couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong, “No matter how many times I’ve tried to push you away.”

You don't know him. You don't know his history and what things he committed in the past. But as if you've known this whole time, Xiao couldn't picture you leaving him for those reasons.

“You’re gentle but you don’t let others put you down. You’re kind but you don’t allow it to be your weakness. I sometimes wonder how it is possible for anyone to be so forgiving?”

"I-I don’t understand why you’re this Xiao. Is something happening?”

He won’t tell you. He doesn’t see the reason why you need to know.

You wince when something poked the side of your neck and you realized it was a tranquilizer. You looked at Xiao with dismay, his face becoming hazier until your vision darkened and could no longer hold your own weight. Xiao caught you around the waist with one arm as you fell unconscious.

"How can you be so stupid...?"

But he speaks as if those words were meant for him.

Pulling your body closer to him, Xiao chains you down into a desperate embrace. A silent scream of desperation. His forehead pressed against the bent of your shoulder and the other arm rested his hand at the center of your back. He will relish in the shape of your body, memorizing every curve both perfections and flaws. The way you fit into his arms and the pleasant smell of nature that you taught him to love, this was the only remnant he was allowed to take. Every detail, he will remember it as if clinging to the last moments of his whole world.

If he was allowed to have a desire, let him meet you again. He prayed to a god, any god-- even if it meant damaging his oath, he will accept his punishment. He prayed to each star in the sky and if he must he'll pray to the devil himself, whatever it is, he will do it for you.

As he painfully lets go, Xiao lets his hand slide off your body until the last thing he felt was the very tips of your fingers. He settles you down gently into your bed. You belong here in this peaceful world, not the one riddled with monsters.

---

~Zhongli's Story~

The Skull Cavern was considered to be the most dangerous mine of Stardew Valley. It wasn't your intention to run into any trouble, all you wanted was to test your cool new galaxy sword on some easy monsters and then be on your merry way. At first.

Just one more floor. You say, before catching an arm sticking out a pile of rocks.

"I-Is that a person?!!!"

You dug as fast as you could, any time soon the mummies would wake up and start attacking. Quick quick! Moving the last rock, you saw the face of a young man, he was asleep but alive! and undeniably attractive oh wow *lip bite*. But despite your attempts of shaking him awake, it was fruitless and the monsters weren't waiting.

Taking out two warp totems, you raised it to the ceiling and chanted a teleportation spell.

It wasn't everyday that you brought a man to your house.

But when you did, he wouldn't be from a cave, six floors down and buried in a place filled with monsters.

"And this small black device you say is some form of communicator? That certainly is intriguing, never in my years have I heard of something so advanced."

However you were beginning to think otherwise. That this man would have been from the prehistoric ages who you managed to unbury after his thousand year slumber. Zhongli sits on the couch across from you while examining your smartphone, a term he claimed had been completely foreign. You were contemplating whether you should bother Harvey despite being past his work hour and book an emergency appointment to see if this man had a special case of amnesia.

You brushed the idea away. There was so much going on and nothing made sense, for now, you decided to settle this on your own.

"Uhm Zhongli is it?" you asked nervously, "Maybe you can try giving the name of a relative or someone you know. I can use the phonebook to see if I can find their number."

“Number?” He parroted.

You blinked a few times, making sure if you heard him correctly, “Yes, number. You know? To communicate?”

"I appreciate your kind gesture," Zhongli acknowledges in a polite manner, "But that won't be necessary. This device doesn’t seem to be at a level where it can communicate with the people from my homeland."

If he was travelling then how the hell did he end up in THE Skull Cavern is what I wanna know!

“T-Then if you don't mind me asking, where are you from?"

Zhongli takes this moment to think of an answer, aware that if he blurted something out it would not have translated in the way he wanted. But you so kindly invited him to your humble household that he felt it would only be proper to owe you an explanation, "I suppose a land from afar."

You sweatdropped, "Suppose?"

"Yes. Although I won't spare you the details since this is not your burden to bear, it’s quite difficult for me to try and remember exactly what happened," Zhongli took his chin into his hand, fingers almost covering his mouth, "Perhaps I would need search for clues in order to refresh my memory."

Oh no he really does have amnesia!!

"A-Actually why don't I just call the local doctor, I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a hand," you say while taking your iPhone.

"A doctor? There's no need," dismissed Zhongli, "My condition is only a minor one and I do not think I'm in a position to afford medical assistance. Besides, you have done more than enough. May you find great fortune in your years Miss (Y/n), I shall be on my way."

He pushes himself up from the couch and you watch him cross towards the door. But just when he was about to reach the space of your carpet, Zhongli pulled to an abrupt stop.

"Ah yes,” He began as if remembering something, “ Do you happen to know where the nearest Inn is located? I would need to find a place to shelter for the time being."

"..."

This was how the former god ended up being your roommate. Like Xiao, Zhongli also takes upon a human form. He needed to eat, drink and a place to sleep. He insisted that he would take the couch as well as help you with any tasks that needed to be completed during the day.

You question if Zhongli was even aware of what situation he was currently in. Answer: HE WASN'T because Zhongli is an extremely dense man. To feel embarrassed was not part of his dictionary when living with a woman.

The type to take long showers. You always find the bathroom steaming because he doesn't turn on the fan to get rid of it (but maybe you should've taught him). So when it was your turn to use the shower, the water was either lukewarm or worst case scenario, cold.

Also he somehow finds your old kettle (that your grandfather used) to brew tea even though you told him you already had a water boiler. He stated that he liked doing things the old-fashioned way, it brings him a sense of nostalgia. You couldn't understand what he meant (unless you considered that he was older than he seemed....no that can’t be it!)

Despite it all, Zhongli was incredibly polite and considerate. Tending the farm was not an easy job and you often came home with sore muscles, fatigued from running so many errands. He's knowledgeable in terms of making the best herbal mix for a soothing remedy.

You would see a warm cup, every morning before going to work and every time you come home, it was sitting on the kitchen table (if his drink had potion effects, they would be regeneration).

Gentle he was but it wasn't good for your heart.

Ever since Zhongli moved in, it became difficult to live in your own house.

There were many situations where he caused trouble despite not intending to cause disruption to your daily routine. And when he did, the repairs came out of your own pocket. One time you opened your microwave to find thick ash and burnt cinders stuck upon the walls.The entire space was a hazard and needed to be dispensed immediately since Zhongli thought that plastic-wrapped items were allowed to be microwaved. Another incident, as bizarre as it sounded, was when your vacuum cleaner zoomed out of your house...and never came back. You remembered the awkward cough he gave when you shot him a deathly glare, hence why Zhongli was not allowed to touch your high-tech devices (if you considered them high-tech) without your permission.

Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. It was the opposite in fact. One day, all the flaws you counted suddenly became his charms. You came to find them endearing almost.

Zhongli was a handsome man. He carried himself with a distinct aura that could only be found in the rarest geodes; revealing orestones mined from the depths of a forgotten cave, sometimes in the shape of exquisite artifacts-- a type of ancient charm. Perhaps that was why people were willing to obey his every command without hesitation. Whenever Zhongli spoke, it was full of firmness and authority yet somehow deprived of arrogance. He was polite to all and does not indulge in conflict despite how tempting gossip can be in modern society. Always patient during your temperamental moments and considerate to the point you wonder if he even had any desires. He was so kind that soon enough, you couldn't help but be flustered by his presence. Forget about having a conversation, maintaining his leveled gaze was already enough of a challenge. Like staring into the sun after the morning dew. So gentle and so very comforting. But the more you linger onto the sun, it's rays will continue to set ablaze, eventually bringing you pain.

And you feared that you have grown addicted to those feelings.

Why can't he understand?

Stopping at the center of the bridge, you kept your head low while letting the anger take form into your tightened fists. The town was empty with only the sound of water flowing beneath your feet, filling the heavy air. They rippled and swayed, peaceful amongst your inner turmoil. The fact that such a miniscule attribute was able to make your blood rise was hilariously pitiful. How did you stoop to a point that even nature, the very being you've tended for a living, could bring you bitterness? Were your feelings this uncontrollable? The answer was obvious. It spiraled, violently and mercilessly as if commanded by another. There was a wave of emotions filling your heart and you could almost feel yourself drowning from the inside. If only they were as tranquil as the ones you stood upon.

"I thought I would find you here."

The voice you dreaded calls from across and you fight to keep yourself from gasping. Oblivious to it all, Zhongli proceeds to close the distance until he towered over you, looking down to your bowed head, "When you hadn't returned home without a notice, I was getting worried if something had happened. But I'm glad that wasn't the case."

Your whole face clenches.

"Is something bothering you? If you would like, we can discuss it after eating dinner. Come, I have already prepared our meal while you were gone as well as turning off the rice cooker once finished. I hope it can ease your stress since I know it can be difficult maintaining a farm like this."

"Zhongli."

He blinks hard when the sound of his name falls out of your lips. Zhongli was an experienced observer and listener, he was able to catch the glimpse of frustration that dripped from the tone you used. Relaxing his poised shoulders, Zhongli carefully asked in a reserved manner, "Have I...done something to make you upset?"

A trembled breath escaped when you breathed out. Dense. He was so dense that sometimes it made you want to crack him open.

"Tell me..." you began, "Are you also like this with other women?"

The former god sets a brief sharp pause, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm talking about the way you act, they're...giving me all these mixed signals. We've been living together for months, we even share meals together! And sometimes you would help me with the farm and when I didn't ask, you still insisted on tending to my needs when I felt sick. I just…” you trailed off, trembling ever so slightly, "It's all perfectly normal. You’re nice to everyone. I know that. I know that!"

"(Y/n)," Zhongli whispered. They sounded like a thousand needles to your heart.

"I doubt you have the intention to put me in this situation. You're a really great person Zhongli but I sometimes can't help feeling this isn't just some roommate thing you know?" closing your eyes, you thought of your past relationships, how they started and ended, "Do any of your actions mean anything to you? Do you know how it makes me feel? Or am I just overthinking this, that it was all one-sided this whole time?"

Alas the truth spills and the air stills, bringing the waves to a halt. Peace, tranquility, nothingness. That was all you wanted. That was all you heard. It was deafening.

"I see, so that's why," Zhongli mutters to himself with eyes narrowed, "There's...something I need to confess."

After several months, he tells you everything. How his memories returned, some of them were already intact. He told you about his homeland and his true identity, that he was a god that once ruled over Liyue for six centuries before giving away the gnosis.

The reason why he hadn't said anything until now was because there will be a day where Zhongli must depart and return to Teyvat. He was a god with a contract, the circumstance didn't matter, he must stay with it until the very end of time.

Through his years, Zhongli learned to cherish his finite moments. He didn't want to taint them with troubles to come. Thinking too far ahead into the future would only bring strain.

But what he didn't tell you was his true feelings. You were a sweet woman, tender and enthusiastic about agriculture, the way your feelings extend to the earth with grace whereas many others chose to trample over without hesitation, he fell deeply in love with that side of yours. You taught him many things and showed him many sides of humanity that he had never seen before. He even discovered an aspect of himself. Like breaking a geode, revealing the beauties held inside.

Zhongli couldn't look you in the eye when your expression was covered in disbelief. He thought he hid his feelings well but it seemed that he was expressing his love in subtle and subconscious ways that eventually drove you to fall for him as well. You didn't stop him when he left the bridge. He wasn't even in your house. He chose this, he chose to set you free from his heavy presence.

And as the weight started to lift from your shoulder, you sank to your knees and wept. It was cruel of him. To give you these emotions yet he could not bring himself to stay by your side. But your heart would not allow you to hate the man you love.

Things couldn't end this way. You had to say goodbye to him, see him one last time because if you didn't, these burdens will haunt you forever.

When Zhongli looked up to the sky he saw his ending drawing near.

Three days had passed since he last spoke with you and he had no plans in seeing you again. Soon, the former god will return to his rightful place. Even though he had already given his gnosis to the Cryo Archon as Liyue already began to enter a new era, it seems that his decisions weren't his to make as he was born in a world where stars ruled above the archons. Fate-- they won't allow it. He does not belong here. If there was one thing Zhongli regretted during his time in your world, it was that he couldn't leave you a good memory before taking his departure. The sight of your large glassy eyes and quivering lips when he crushed you with the truth, he sincerely believed that they would haunt him much more than it probably did to you. But perhaps things would be easier if you despised him. Because if he had stayed and you came to forgive him, he would no longer have the strength to let go.

Despite it all love was indeed a selfish creature. He couldn't help but feel resentment towards the stars for bringing you into his life in such a mockingly sweet manner. They tied him with a contract, made him vow to his own beliefs and tested them by using you-- a bystander struck between the crossfire, eventually bringing you down into the depths of his battlefield and he thought that maybe...maybe there was hope that he could bring you with him as well.

How disgraceful for a god to let the devil tempt him so.

Zhongli was thankful that you weren't beside him. Otherwise he would dance with the ugly hope of a slim chance for you to come along. This was the best choice. It was for his-- your own good.

"Zhongli!"

The arch of his lined eyes shot upwards. As if fate had decided to give him one final test, he felt your small figure crash into him from behind and your arms coming to hug around his waist, tightly and fearfully that he felt like you would be the one who would slip away instead.

"I...I made it time," you panted, burying your nose into his clothed back, "I’m so glad...I'm so glad you're still here…!"

Your cry of relief was a thunder to his ears, a reminder that he was the main cause. Zhongli, casted by solemn smile, lifts his hand to cover over yours and grasped onto them, I'm here, he wishes to say. Yet he knew they were only temporary promises, "To come all this way despite everything that has happened. You foolish girl..."

"It's your fault Zhongli, I'm a fool because I love you! It's all your fault that I have to say goodbye," You grit your teeth as the tears fell down your face until it blended into his clothes, "Take me with you. Please. Don't leave me all alone…!"

The words he wanted to say melted into a silent gasp through parted lips. Zhongli merely clenched them back together and his hand on your hand, even tighter. He won't lie to you. At the very least, let his actions speak for him where he himself could not.

Take me with you.

Don't leave me alone.

Goodbye.

If it is fated Morax...we will meet again.

"I see," letting his thoughts echo in his mind from the distant memories, the former god begins to take a new perspective upon his wisdom, "For many years, I have experienced countless farewells from the people I've come to known," Zhongli reminisced, tilting his head back with his golden eyes against night, as if searching for some sort of answer, "And yet I never thought what it must have felt like being in their position."

"Zhongli…" you trailed off, "Then don't! I may not know everything about you but it doesn't have to be this way. At least, just answer me this, will I ever see you again?"

"I'm sorry (Y/n)," he apologized and you knew the answer. He gently pries your arms off him, turning around so he could swipe the corner of your eyes dry. There was a glowing reverence in his countenance, one that he reserved for you and only you, it was the only way for him to express the feelings that run deep in his heart, "I cannot thank you enough for coming into my life. If there will be a day when I erode from your memories, I truly hope that you will find someone more suitable than I."

"That's ridiculous," defiantly, refusedly, you protest, "No one can replace you."

Zhongli laughs sadly as the white halo outlines his whole figure, signaling that there wasn't much time left. He wonders if there was anything he could do in his last moments, a small token, something, it could even be as small as a single star in the sky, "If it is fated...we will meet again."

You watch him turn transparent until he slipped from your grasp. No longer was the man, only the dust being one with the sky. They shone brilliantly but you were left in the darkness.

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years ago

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particles x damon albarn

the lyrics to this song are genuinely so beautiful, like i honestly cannot describe enough how much i adore this song my goodness

Pairing: present day damon x reader

Warnings: none :D

Word count: 1.881

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

It had been two months since I had last seen him. Two whole months since he had set foot in our home; two whole months since he said goodbye to leave for tour. The home that we shared had began to inhabit a sense of eeriness, some nights the walls began to feel as if they were closing in on me, trapping me from any interaction with the outside world, as if to hold me hostage by my own insanity, although other nights the space felt extremely large, almost too big for one person to be able to waste their nights alone in, encapsulating my mind in a constant conflict of obstructive thoughts, forcing me to overthink every tiny detail that was conveyed on the pale stained walls, the wooden floorboards, the arrangement of the furniture, resulting in many a time of me moving around heavy tables and chairs until the image of the room settled my mind’s anxiety. Allowing distance to get in the lines of mine and Damon’s relationship, it was simply uncanny that I was going to miss him; he was the carcass that kept me sane, the being that granted me peace in myself, ease on my mind to prevent such mania from enrapturing my brain, the person that engulfed me into a stupor of adoration and affection that one could never understand the authentic strength until felt - what some perceive as paramour, true love, something so overstimulating that once separated such thing desperation beguiles you to surround yourself with, only a mere sensation of emptiness is all that is felt inside, as if your limbs are damaged, your insides constantly in a state of sickness that you are convinced you’re in need of some form of professional assistance, but it is simply the alchemy, the poison of the apprehension that captivates you from the estrangement from your significant other. Though that wasn’t to say that wasn’t proud of Damon; I embraced fondness and admiration for everything that he did and was so dedicated in doing, his talent and immense knowledge for the art form that speaks to you demonstrated his ability to move millions of people, uniting as one in concerts, all touched from the same, simple string of melodies, proving his true gift and genius that is inside his brain.

I tried to pry my thoughts away from the excitement that had been seeping into my veins from the fact that he was returning home today, in an attempt to focus my mind on whatever had been showing on the television, but there was no use. To be cradled in his arms was all that I had longed, the thought clouding my brain almost every single night that I had thrown my body onto the linen sheets, trying to wrap my body around the duvet to replicate the specific warmth that had enveloped my body when in his arms, his body completely dominating mine, his hands running through my hair gently, apologising with a kiss on the top of my head when he accidentally pulled too roughly, my face buried in his chest as a blush would suddenly creep onto my cheeks, our embrace fulfilling me with a nest of blooming butterflies in my body, a poignant sensation of nervousness and reverence for the man that had me cooped up in his arms, the same feelings that would embody you whilst walking past your first crush during primary school, accidentally brushing your hands against one another’s, sending your mind into overdrive as if to think that the person was the love of your life. Such emotions never left, and I doubted that they ever would; supposing that is true love, he could make me feel like a little girl squealing over her teenage idol because of how perfect he was, just from being himself.

“I’m home, love,” I heard a voice call out in the hallway, accompanied by the soft slam of the front door, the tone of voice lacing a certain amount of raspiness, perhaps from a cigarette that had just been inhaled. My head instantly turned to the door of the living room, eyes settling upon the sight of Damon, who had a small grin curved on his lips, his gaze captured with joy and desire, perhaps from gratification towards the understanding that the tour had finally ended, as well as the fact that he was able to finally see me once again - my expression equally reciprocating his happiness. Instantly jumping from my seat on the couch, I rushed over to him as I threw my arms around him, resting my ear against his chest, listening to the soft pattern of his heartbeat. As usual, his arms wrapped around my figure, tightly embracing my body, the swarm of butterflies breaking out of their cocoons, my limbs growing weak from the recognisable thrill of affection that I had desired for far too long, and had sadly not received. Feeling his lips grazing against the top of my head made my mind go fuzzy, my cheeks flushing a heat that made me feel as if I was under the beating warmth of the sun during the summer months. This is what he does to me. “How’ve you been darling? I see you’ve rearranged the place, again.” he mumbled into my head of hair, my mind still relishing in the pleasure of being in his arms again.

“I’ve missed you,” I replied, reluctantly pulling my arms away from the embrace, in order to gawk at him. A gentle chuckle rumbled from his throat, though his features accentuated pity, understanding how I must’ve felt being away from him for so long. Lightly taking hold of one of his hands, I dragged his arm, guiding him to the sofa, where both of us sat next to each other. “You were gone for so long!”

“I know love, I’ve missed you so much,” he replied, squeezing my hand in reassurance. “At least I’m not gone for any longer though.” he added, his lips curving slightly as I nodded, a similar grin planted on my lips.

“How was the tour then?” I asked, pulling his arm to wrap it around my shoulders, my body already aching for more attachment to him. “The videos I’ve seen online made it look very good.”

“It was great, honestly. Loved every bit of it.” he replied, the grip on my shoulder tightening as he attempted to haul me closer to him. Humming in agreement, I placed my head on his shoulder, cradling the moment we shared together, the moment that I had imagined and adorned each and every night he was absent, cherishing every single time that he was able to be in my presence. I depended on him greatly, as did he, and though that may be a toxic strand which can only result in turmoil; our appreciation for one another held such poise that it would draw us closer together each and every time we had conjoined together after months of being separated. “I’ve actually got something to show you.” he added, shifting from our hug and slowly stepping to his feet, taking his hand in mine, his soft but coarse palms gripping onto mine ever so slightly, urging me to stand up too. “Come with me.”

Following him closely, we headed towards his studio. I had forgotten the last time that I had set foot in it; usually I would leave Damon to work on his craft alone, since having me prance around messing with all sorts of instruments and controls wasn’t going to provide much assistance. As well as that, sitting in the room, knowing that he was away and would be for many days on, would only make me yearn for his presence more, which is the last of what I would need when not being able to fall asleep. Though whenever he would call me into the room, he would always show me the most beautifully crafted symphony, in which he would perform it so effortlessly, as if it was simply created from the top of his head at that moment. Talent like his was so scarce; it would only prove to me that it’s something you are gifted with at birth, like an extremely high intelligence quotient - he always had ideas running through his mind, melodies that would be formed from a simple tap of the table in front of him. It was a wonder in the fact that he seemingly never got burned out with creating music, it was evidently his passion, and it touched me that he would constantly ask me for my opinion on his music, as it always resonated with him, always held such importance.

When we walked inside the studio, I followed him to the grand piano that was standing by the corner of the room. I kept my body upright, behind him, as he pulled out the black stool underneath, moving it back slightly in order for him to sit on it. “Over the tour, I had some free time, so I wrote this song, it’s called Particles,” he began, his voice quiet, as if it were intertwined with a certain anxiousness about what he was about to perform. “It’s still a work in progress, but I wanted to know what you thought of it.”

As I admired his fingers softly grazing the elegant, pale keys of the piano, the melody that in which played forth me instantaneously sufficed me in a trance, bewilderment encompassing my my mind as I listened to the sounds of the alluring chords echo throughout the room, bounce off the walls, the waves of noise crafting mountainous regions of goosebumps to prickle on the bare skin exposed from my forearms. Sculpted with such elegance and formality, my mouth fell agape as he played with such ease - in that significant moment, I was subdued to his music, hypnotised into his magnificence; I could do nothing, absolutely nothing, except admire the grace that fell from his lips once he started singing. As I allowed my gaze to drift onto his face, I gawked at his demeanour, his eyes almost screwed shut, his face almost frozen in place as his body rocked back and forth to the melody that was omitted from the piano. Every word, every string of lines carried a lugubrious essence to it, a tone laced with such beautification; obvious that there were deeper implications behind said lyrics. Each line that escaped his throat exemplified the nature of what earnest fervour, authentic devotion and expertise can embody. Such melody, paired with his voice embodied with pure ethereality, as if I was being greeted by a herd of the most quaint angels, welcoming my soul into the seven heavens. A beam crawled onto my lips, my heart thumping at a million miles per hour from the amount of love I carried in my body for the man in front of me.

Once the song ended, a moment was held in the atmosphere of mere silence, as if to take in all that was felt, all that had vibrated through the sound waves and blessed my ears. Shifting his body so he could connect eyes with me, a gentle, welcoming smile tugged on his lips. “That’s for you.”

#thank u anon <3333333 #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #blur band #90s #britpop #gorillaz #my imagines #my writing #fanfic #fluff #fan fiction

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pleasantanathema · 4 years ago

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Temptations

Pairing: Daichi x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Cheating, semi-public sex, dirty talk, a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Thank you to the sweet anon who requested this! It’s a little longer than I expected, but I got very into this. My requests are still open! I’m working on a few others tonight, but I’m, of course, going slower than expected haha.

It was never hard to find Sawamura Daichi in a crowded room. As demure as he seemed, he stood out, broad shoulders and wide stance making him appear large, commanding…though perhaps it was easier for you to find him, seeing as though you were always looking for him.

You wondered if he knew you’d be here.

The house party was far out of your usual university bubble, a gathering of alumni and older students from a neighboring college, all muddled voices and low lights, a bass thumping music from the living room. You wouldn’t normally venture out this far on a week night, but you’d heard mutterings from Tsukishima about the open invites his older brother had mentioned, and you had hoped that Daichi heard the same rumor mill as well.

You planned to leave if he wasn’t there, but now you were just waiting for an opportunity to get closer, or perhaps for him to seek you out.

He was a vexation to you, a temptation that never seemed to go away, not even after you found your partner over a year ago. You still found yourself awake at night, wishing you were in someone else’s arms, in his arms. You’d check your phone, look at his location, dreaming that you were there in his apartment, that he would text you and beg you to come over.

But you knew he never would. He had been dating the same girl since high school, he was loyal to a fault, even if that fault meant you’d never get to touch him like you wanted to.

He was forbidden fruit, the box warned to never be opened, else you’d both have to face the consequences.

However, you had a feeling that the consequences would surely be damned tonight.

You felt the heavy presence of his gaze since you spotted him, felt like you were being pulled into his gravity well, all your thoughts churning and tumbling around him, your lungs tightening when you’d catch his eyes across the room. It was maddening, like there were whispers in your ears telling you to go to him, to touch him, an invisible cord tugging at your heels to get closer.

He must have felt it too, that pull, because before the night was over, his hands were on your waist, large palms gripping at the fabric of your skirt as he led you into a back room. He was polite about it, using his size to help the two of you navigate between the throngs of people, but his grip was harsh, crushing, like he was afraid if he let you go, you’d disappear into the crowd.

“Do you know anyone here?”

There was more to his question, you could hear remnants of more words resting under his tongue, suppressed but still heavy.

“No,” you shook your head, lacing your fingers into his as you spotted a surprisingly empty couch against a forgotten wall.

The music in this room was dulled, sound bouncing off the walls in a vicious repeat of being heard and unheard. Someone had lined the ceiling with neon lights, the kind that cycled through colors, and there were cups, empty and full, left neglected on the floor, the furniture, each one holding the memory of a person come and gone from the room.

Daichi took the lead when it came to the couch, body weight sinking into the worn cushions. Then he was tugging you into him, onto him, spreading you across his thick thighs as you settled into his lap.

“Then what are you doing here?”

He said the words like he didn’t already know the answer, like his hands weren’t back on your waist, fingers sneaking under the sides of your shirt to rub against too-hot skin.

Your mind was swimming, still trying to catch up and recognize that he’d pulled you into his lap, that he was making the move to touch you, to begin prying open the lid to something that should not be opened.

Confidence was bubbling in your throat. You felt powerful like this, your hands on his shoulders, body hovering over his, his dark brown eyes looking up at you like he wanted something, something only you could give him.

“I’m here for the same reason you are.”

You were here because his lingering touches gave you hope, every brush against your lower back on your way to class, every smile and quip that he threw over his shoulder just for you. You were here because you needed to feel him, you needed to know if what you were craving was truly what you were missing.

He was here to see if you really wanted him, to know if all your late-night texts were more than just flirting with temptation, to know if you wouldn’t run away when he finally touched all the places on your body he thought about on restless nights.

You both knew all the reasons, which is why your body was quick to mold against his, legs snug against his thighs, hands tracing his neck, his face. His hands were bolder, slinking farther up your top, hot and heavy and engulfing against your stomach, up to your breasts.

No one knew you here, no one would know. Only you two knew the history that lined every caress, every excited breath and heartbeat.

No one would know that when you pressed your mouth to his, you were kissing something that didn’t belong to you. But in that moment, he was yours, and you were his, and neither of you were going to let that go to waste.

Daichi groaned against your lips, a soft grumble that sent tingles down your spine. You nestled in closer to his lap, slanting your mouth against his hungrily as he groped at your breasts, thick fingers dipping underneath the fabric of your bra. You could feel him getting hard within his jeans, pent up lust brewing from where your core was pressed against his erection.

As your tongue slid into his mouth, you urged one of his hands to trail lower down your body, grasping it gently as you placed him underneath your skirt.

“Touch me,” you whispered, losing the words in his mouth.

He didn’t have to be told twice.

Two of his fingers curled against your damp panties, tracing over the outline of your pussy. You moaned quietly, still aware that there were people filtering in and out of the room, though it’s not like anyone was sober enough to pay the lovebirds on the couch any mind.

You kissed at his jawline, trailing your lips down his thick neck, being careful not leave any marks behind, though there was something pressing in the back of your mind telling you to claim him.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he said it with a grin, his other hand now pinching at your hardening nipple beneath your shirt.

“I’m always wet when you’re around.”

The rumble that left his chest almost startled you. It sounded possessive, like he was coming alive at your words, coming alive from touching the most sensitive parts of your body.

He roughly moved your panties to the side, fingers now dancing within your slick, back and forth, finger tips brushing against your folds and spreading you apart. He prodded your tight hole, testing the waters before plunging one of his fingers inside of you.

You hissed out a sound of delight, head tipping back and spine arching at the sudden wave of pleasure. After a few quick pumps, he added a second, keen eyes watching how your chest heaved and your mouth fell open.

“I bet that feels better than your own pretty fingers, baby.”

It wasn’t even a question; he knew the answer to that. He leaned forward, licking up your exposed throat with a flat tongue, greedily taking in the sweetness of your skin as he kept his fingers moving inside of you.

You were gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, nails piercing into the tight threads of his t-shirt. Your hips rocked down against his hand that was obscured by your skirt, your thighs growing hot as they rubbed against his dark jeans.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed against your neck, eyes closing as he focused on feeling you, “like someone doesn’t fuck you right.”

A strangled sound left your mouth, shocked and sharp, but smothered by the moan that soon followed as he curled his fingers inside of you, pressing and rubbing against the fleshy patch of your inner walls.

You couldn’t remember that last time you touched yourself and didn’t think of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time you didn’t close your eyes during sex and wish that he was on top of you, moaning your name and whispering praises.

You moved to press your forehead against his, sweet little sounds still pouring from your lips.

“I need you to fuck me right, please.”

“You want me stuff this pretty little pussy under your skirt? Fuck you right here?”

You nodded silently, brain sloshing with bliss, shocks of heat and pleasure still rolling from where he was driving his fingers inside of you.

“Yes, I want you so, so badly, Daichi.”

One of your hands was sliding down his chest, fingers almost catching in the defined grooves of his muscles. Deft fingers worked at his belt buckle, hastily pulling at the leather like nirvana was waiting within his jeans. He moved to help you, releasing his hold on your breast so his hand could aid yours in freeing his cock from his zipper.

You settled in closer, wrapping your hand around his cock, thumb tracing a thick vein as you kept him pressed close to your belly. His head fell back against the couch, massive shoulders sagging with a breathy sigh as you pumped his wide cock in your palm. His skin was hot and silky, pre-cum sticky against your fingers.

A whine left your chest as he pulled his fingers out of you, covering your small hand with his slick covered fingers to have you sliding against him harder, faster.

“Sit on me, baby, let me feel you.”

Your hands returned to his shoulders for balance as you lifted your thighs up enough to let his cock settle between them.

He kept his grip on your thighs, easing you down onto his length. You molded your lips to his again to keep quiet, a burning, blooming line of ecstasy stemming from where his cock was sinking into your depths. He tasted so good, warm like bourbon, like foreign, forbidden spices that you couldn’t get enough of.

Daichi mumbled curses against your mouth, his fingers so deep into the flesh of your thighs that you worried for a moment that he would bruise you. Let him, your mind screamed, you wanted something to remember this moment by.

You gasped as he finally sheathed all of himself inside of you, your legs back to resting against his jeans. One of his hands found your face, cupping your cheek and keeping your mouth on his, lips wet and messy as they moved against one another.

Your inner walls burned from the intrusion of his fat cock, but you felt so whole, like you were made to sit on him and suck him into you.

“You feel so good, so fucking tight,” his was voice was cracking, like he was holding in his sound.

You rocked your hips tentatively, whining softly when you felt the sweet stretch of his cock inside you, felt the thick length of him plunge deeper inside you. You could cum just like this, just from the thrill of it all, of finally having the man you wanted most seated inside your cunt.

“No one’s here,” he mused, gaze settled over your shoulder to look at the empty room, the ghost of music the only presence left, “be a good girl and be quiet for me, okay?”

You nodded against the hand still placed against your cheek, nuzzling into it for comfort as he began to thrust his hips up into you.

“Fuck, oh fuck, yes, anything you say,” you muttered, eyes closed as he used the hand on your hip to help bounce you into his lap.

You both fell into a brisk rhythm, bodies rocking and bucking against each other, fingers digging into skin, moans left stuck in your throats.

It was all so much, the feeling of his jeans against your thighs, against your clit every time you sat back into his lap, the feeling of his breath against your neck, of his cock splitting apart your wet insides. You could feel your slick against his thighs, feel it pooling against his dick every time he left your wet heat only to pump back in again.

“What are you going to do with the cum I leave inside you?”

You whined at the thought, causing his palm to press against your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You’re gonna leave it inside you, alright? Let it sink into your panties all night.”

You nodded your head eagerly, hips rolling a little faster to get you closer to that point. You wanted to feel him cum inside you, wanted to feel his seed drip slowly from inside you for the rest of the night.

His thrusts were getting a bit frantic, the rhythm breaking as you felt him twitching inside of you. Then his thumb was sliding beneath the fabric of your panties, rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit. The shock of pleasure had you panting against his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you felt that tight coil inside your belly ready to burst.

“God, I want you to be mine.”

He said it into your throat, planting wet kisses between the words against your skin.

If he only he knew you were already his. You had been for so long, every other thought you had was about him, every weak moment you had revolved around how badly you wanted him, how you needed this.

�� You were pressing up that orgasmic ladder hard and fast, the thrusts of his cock and the swirling of his thumb throwing higher and higher towards the peak you desired.

Then, the world suddenly didn’t exist anymore. You saw white behind your eyelids, felt heat explode from inside your core, waves of euphoria washing over your body as you creamed around his cock. You could feel your walls sucking him in tighter, fluttering with each crest and ebb of your orgasm, bringing him to the point of stopping as you milked his cock for all the cum he promised.

You cried into his hand, grateful that it was there to stifle your sounds of ecstasy as you came apart around him. You felt his cum coating your insides, thick and warm, cock drooling relentlessly until all the cum couldn’t be contained inside of you, instead spilling out from where his cock met the spread folds of your cunt.

You pried his hand from your face, crashing your lips onto his as you felt a rush of heavy emotions come in the wake of your orgasm.

He held you close, smoothing his lips over yours with tender kisses as he petted your cheek, ran his fingers down your back.

“Come home with me,” he whispered against your mouth, hope laced between his words.

“I-I can’t, I shouldn’t.”

You could tell the weight of your actions were settling into his composure now, saw the realization flash across his eyes. But then something new fell into his resolve, a look of determination.

“Come home with me and stay with me.”

A thought flashed across your mind, the image of the body you left behind at home in bed, and then that picture blended into one of you wrapped in Daichi’s arms, comforted and whole and desired like how you wanted.

You brushed your hand across his cheek, felt his grin tug against your palm.

“You’ll have to pull your cock out of me before I can follow you home.”

#sawamura daichi #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi smut #daichi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq daichi #haikyuu daichi #daichi x you #Daichi Sawamura x you #writing request

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likesomekindofcheese · 5 years ago

Text

Promised Part Two (The Great mini-series)

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! reader

Word Count: 3475

Summary: from an anon request, the boorish Emporer Peter has ruined your families alliance with Russia. The only way to save your family and your people is to go to the Russian Court to marry his best friend, Count Grigor Dymov.

content warnings: mentions of sex and families and weddings, swearing. Grigor being shyer than in the canon show but this is my fic and I do what I want.

“Countess Y/F/N Dymov does have a nice ring to it,’ your mother said as the carriage rolled on.

Rocking back and forth, her eyebrows went up and she nodded in approval at the thought. Though you stayed silent, watching the Russian forests pass by. Your fur lined coat felt too heavy as did your scarf. You saw your mother lift a hand opposite of the one holding her novel to scratch at her own scarf. But the air was getting colder. You were definitely in Russia by now.

You glanced down at the latest letter from the gangly Russian count:

Dear Y/F/N,

I hope you and your family are doing well. Upon reading your last letter, you said you were worried about children. There are a few children here. Count Arkady has a little army of his own running about the halls. Who knows when it might happen, but I am sure you will be a fine mother. You may even make friends here. We have plenty of ladies here you may talk to. And we have fine physicians here.

Oh god, that was unconnected somehow? Maybe I should scratch that out.

No, I will keep it. I hope it amuses you. It may make you laugh to see what a silly fool I am. What kind of fool proposes marriage to courtesans? Not you, Georgiana, of course.

But children arriving will be a while from now. I am trying to make everything comfortable for you. It will be hard leaving your family and the pets you mentioned in your last letter. When you and your mother arrive here, you must try some tea. Though you might as well enjoy some vodka as well.

Speaking of vodka, Peter had too much last night and spent the morning chapel services vomiting his stomach out…

A jolt from the carriage made both of you leap in your seats. It was no use re-reading the thing for the tenth time for amusement on a long trip. You put the letter away in your reticule.

Enough time had passed between that fateful dinner. Now here you were, on the road, on your way to the court of Peter.

“Did you hear me? Do you like the sound of Countess Y/F/N Dymov?” she repeated louder, leaning forward.

“Yes,” you agreed obediently.

Your mother bit her lip hesitantly. There was a pause.

“Y/N, you are doing a very brave thing. You’re going to help all of us, and a lot of people…I thank you for it,” she said.

Her eyes blinked and you could see a few tiny tears up there.

“At least I’m not marrying the emperor,” you huffed, “the title alone wouldn’t be worth it.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Your grandmother said if you got the Emperor, it would be a nicer ceremony. It would be a grander ceremony, but a miserable marriage after…though no wedding will be as nice as your brothers,” she recalled.

Both of you smiled at the memory. Your mother even set down the novel in her hands to talk to you more.

“He married someone he loves. Now they’re happy together…” you commented.

The past weeks whirled by without the time to savor your last time at home.

First there was a whole wedding to set and celebrate for your brother, then there was studying all the etiquette, customs, and everything you would need for a life in Russia. As well as planning about your own day. A day crawling up that made you shiver slightly at the thought.

But remembering your brother’s childish grin when his bride walked down to greet meet him at the altar, the shivers ceased. How they seemed to fly when they danced with each other. How even their cake tasted sweeter. The fragrance of their flower crowns was still in your nose.

If only your day could be as nice. No alliance. No pressure to go and bind yourself. Just nice.

“It was a wonderful day. She looked very pretty in your dress…do you think the dress we chose will suit the Russian court?” you asked.

Your mother nodded, eyes sparkling at the thought.

“Oh yes, we had to ask every question, but so help me you would at least have a dress you liked! You looked radiant in it- all of the court will love the look of it!” she added.

“It’s very…very elaborate. And heavy. I bet it’s the reason this carriage is about to trip over,” you jested.

You briefly took off your glove to scratch your own neck from a small itch.

“Well, when in Rome…” she said, shrugging.

Having a ceremony with a special dress was one thing, the groom was something else entire. But what of your future husband, Grigor?

Before you could ask about your mother’s analysis of him, there was a sudden whistle from the driver.

Both of you leaned out and stared at the window. The large grey palace was popping in view, distant, but there. Tall, grey, and grand.

Breath hitched, you tried to stare at another thing, a bird flying by or the dirt on the road. But there it was. And your eyes were fixed, like a martyr’s gaze on the burning stake before sainthood.

The place you had to live, where you had to sacrifice your body, autonomy, and soul to a man you only knew for a few days.

Servants rushed in to carry your luggage. You and your mother glanced at each other. Her eyes turned soft and she took your hand and squeezed it as the guards opened the doors and a footman led you up the grand stairs into the throne room.

One opened a chest and your mother pulled out a green portfolio from it, pressing it to her heart.

There was a long hall leading to a sole chair bedecked in gold. The room was dark but sun filtered through windows on the left. Removing your coat and handing it to a servant, you could feel their eyes. Analyzing you in your deep blue dress with white lace on the front tied in a dark blue bow on the chest.

Before the throne, walking out from their peeping, was a line waiting for you was a group of various men as different as a kaleidoscope. One was shorter, dark haired, and bespectacled. One was a priest with a long beard. But in the center was the Emperor Peter and by his side, Count Grigor Dymov in a grey, curled wig.

Walking slowly, you curtsied and kissed Peter’s hand and your mother copied the movement.

Only said man wanted to jump ahead and show you his apartments.

“Your highness, thank you for letting me arrive here and for inviting my mother as a chaperone,” you greeted politely.

From a green portfolio, your mother pulled out a starched parchment and walked to the priest.

“Here is a signed paper from our physician, proving Y/N’s chastity for the marriage. Additionally, I will chaperone her until the ceremony.” she announced proudly.

He looked down, head tilted, but leaning to read it, nodded his head.

Both of you let out a sigh of relief. As awkward as the examination was, it was still a hundred times better with a family doctor then without warning by a stranger.

“Well, cangratu-fucking-lations Grigor. Here is the lady who’s going to suck you cock for life in a week! Go on, greet her!” he half-yelled.

You could feel your mother tense at the vulgarity and wished to disappear.

The hands in front of Grigor that were folded tightened slightly as you walked up to each other, with a slight bow.

He then took your hand, as you placed yours, you could see your own palm tremble a bit. He leant down to kiss it.

“Miss Y/L/N, did you travel well?” he asked.

“It was long, but nice. Lots of forests.” You answered shyly.

He relaxed a little and gave you a small smile. Though part of you felt angry. What if it was the cock sucking comment he was thinking of?

It dropped at you still being serious.

“Well, that’s done. And I’m bored. I’m hungry and want some oysters, goodbye!” the emperor suddenly said, trailing away with the priest and other men behind him like ducklings.

Grigor offered his arm and you accepted it, breath hitching at how close he felt.

“Count Dymov, thank you for the…the welcome. Though look at this place! It’s magnificent!” you mother praised, looking at the details.

He walked slowly out of the room with your mother by your side, admiring the tall windows, wooden walls, and countless paintings and decorations. Courtiers in wigs and wide skirts floated by you like butterflies.

“I was thinking I would show you both my apartment, since it’s where we’ll be living soon, Lady Y/L/N. The palace is huge enough as it is!” Grigor answered, turning to your mother.

“Unless you want a tour of all that!” he added on, gesturing to the bits of gold that glowed in the sunlight.

“It would be nice to see where she’ll be living,” you mother replied.

“The apartment is fine,” you finalized, looking up at his eyes.

It had been a while but you forgot or perhaps never noticed the color. They were the color of the sea. And quite beautiful.

“Besides, I already have a gift for you and it couldn’t wait for after the wedding!” he announced, with an impish grin.

“A gift?” you gasped.

“I’d like us to at least be friends, Y/n,”

“Of course, Grigor.”

After a ten-minute walk with chit chat mostly between your mother and Grigor, you arrived at the apartment. He paused slightly before the dark doors and knocked a few times, a voice replied from within.

Your heart leaped at all the red- red walls, red chairs, red furniture, a beautiful gold bathtub and a large red bed that made your stomach flip and turn warm.

“In about a week, this will be your home…but, the-ah- the gift!” he said, jumping with his eyebrows near the top of his wigged head.

An old man dressed like a servant walked from a corner. Grigor rushed there, gesturing wildly with his arms for him to walk forward. For a minute, the man was under Grigor’s shadow and his large back blocked your view.

As he turned, in his hands was a tiny Pomeranian puppy with brown fur.

Gasping alongside your mother, you let out squeals of delight on instinct. You fell in love at once. It barked and smiled when it saw you. You cooed and even your mother went over to stroke its fur. Its earthy smell came up to your nose and it licked your fingers. Grigor handed the puppy for you to hold, light and warm and smelling of earth. The puppy smiled and licked your nose in greeting and you giggled.

“Seems like she knows her mistress already!” Grigor commented, with a small laugh in his voice.

“I know they will expect us to, uh, have children someday and we might as well practice caring for a living thing. And I did not want you to be here and feel completely alone. Like you told me.”

The puppy looks up at you and tilts its head. Once you set it down, it happily runs around the apartment, leaping sometimes mid-way and then pausing to sniff every piece of furniture. It looks at you, chippering happily, the stub of a tail wagging wildly.

“Grigor, she, she…” you mumbled, close to tears. “She’s adorable! I’ve never had such a gift before!”

“It will be work, of course. And she’ll get big and eat and tear things. But Arkady knows dogs and is willing to help us.”

“Yes, of course…thank you!”

Overjoyed, you walked over to him, stood on your toes, and kiss his cheek.

It was a little out of decorum. You had hardly seen him. But you were overjoyed, and it was too kind. He blushed bright pink at the feeling of your lips and smiled.

“Y/N…you’re very welcome! Oh! I forgot! I also have…have these now…”

Out of his pocket were two small bands, bronze colored.

“Our engagement rings… until we’re official.”

Breathing in deep, you accepted the ring and slid it onto your finger. It was only a little tight. The puppy in your arms sniffed it and then tried to lightly chew on it.

___-------------------------------------------------------------------

The palace tour nearly broke your jaw from how much you dropped it. You kept a leash with the small Pomeranian pup by your side, trotting happily and sniffing everything. If it were not for all the gold and countless portraits, plants, boards, and displays and details in every crack of the wall, your new pet would have distracted you.

How on earth can anyone manage to walk through this? You thought. You had not even reached the gardens yet!

Suddenly, there was a yelp and the thunder of boots.

Peter walked forward with his usual party of men, but by his side was a woman who seemed surprisingly young despite her tall height. She was extremely pale and had light blonde hair up in a bun with a few curls falling out and wore a lovely sky-blue gown.

“Ah, Grigor! Have another meeting, need you there! Now! It’s going to be fucking dull without you!” he ordered.

With a shrug, he bowed and walked away with Peter, but the young woman stayed behind. She waited until he was gone and then turned to you.

“He should have been there an hour ago, people were discussing trade forever and he should have been there to help,” She sighed.

Handing the leash to your mother, both of you dipped in a greeting curtsy.

“Pardon me, but I’m new here. I don’t know what the Emperor’s schedule is like…I don’t know what anything is like,” you confessed.

She raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times. Suddenly a shorter woman with sharp cheekbones and her hair up into a small coif ran up by the blonde woman’s side. A maid.

Looking at you both, the servant seemed to give meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill.”

She scolded, “do you realize who you’re talking to! This is her grace, the Empress! At least be polite!”

Panic flooded your chest and you dipped down to a lower, rushed curtsy.

“Your grace-I’m so sorry! Forgive me! Please!” you blubbered. “I didn’t know who you were!”

“It’s all right! Just a mistake!” she laughed.

Her hands moved forward, and she gestured you up.

“What is your name?” she asked kindly.

You introduced yourself, only looking at the end of Catherine’s blue skirt, shades lighter than your own.

“You’re Lady Y/L/N, the future Countess Dymov!”

“Yes, I am and…your grace, I am so sorry for all the trouble that happened at my house. I tried to resolve but…here I am,” you explained.

She gave a sideways glare to where Peter walked off and turned to you, “it isn’t your fault at all…my husband is… well, you understand.”

“I completely understand!” you blurted with a scoff in your throat.

Her frozen, pale stiffness melted away. She smiled genuinely.

“Empress Catherine, what is it like for women here? I haven’t heard much…”

“Well, there are…tea parties. Ball throwings. Thing like that… But…Lady Y/L/N…”

She leaned closer, speaking quietly.

“I was like you, once. Sent to be married. New to this place. I would hesitate to head there if you are new…things are done differently and the ladies here are, if I must be honest, not nice to newcomers.”

“Alright!”

You glanced at your mother, whose brow furrowed with worry at the words.

“But I shall help you. You have to meet them eventually. Just be careful. Though you aren’t me, you might have hope. They have joy in teasing me since they know I outrank them…if you need help, you may call on me.” She offered, her words rushing at the sudden idea.

“Oh your heighness, it’s an honor!” you cried.

“From one foreign bride to another!” she commented before saying goodbye and twirling off. The maid gave a look at the puppy with wistfulness, and then followed the empress.

But as you headed back, having a few moments of rest on a seat near a window.

“Our chambers are not far, I’ll be there to see if our things are ready!” she announded.

You nodded, giving a last happy pet your puppy and stared as your mother sauntered away.

Suddenly, you heard the click of heels.

“You’re his fiancée, are you?”

You turned to see a pale woman with beautiful dark curls on her head. She wore an elaborate, dusy red dress and her slight frown was not welcoming.

“I am engaged to…to Count Dymov, if that’s what you’re asking,” you answered, getting up.

“I…I thought,” she mused.

“Pardon me, I don’t even know your name…” you said.

“You can call me Georgiana.”

Oh my god…

“Lady Georgiana, I’m Lady Y/L/N,” you replied.

She looked at you, analyzing everything. Your chin dipped low and you folded your hands in front of you, frozen in place. Part of you wanted to run away.

“Miss Georgiana is there anything you want from me?” you asked.

Her lips went tight.

“I just thought that Grigor loved me…but he brings over some unknown woman from nowhere!” she spat.

You remembered what he said about their history. And her decision. Your mind blanked with Catherine’s warning, what could you even say.

“He didn’t ask me to marry him. It’s to secure an alliance with Russia.” You informed her plainly.

Getting a little bolder, you looked back at her unamused face.

“Just know, however your marriage goes, it’s me he really loves and…”

She paused. Then smiled.

“And I’ve fucked him too.”

She stuck her nose in the air as your mouth opened a little in shock.

“That’s how mad he is for me. I know every trick that will keep him returning to me. You’ll just pop out an heir for the Dymov’s and then he’ll be done with you.”

Your face turned hot and your breath felt short.

“Why…why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.

“Because, we all know I am the one he loves and will always love. And I know how to please him in every way,” she threatened, walking closer.

“As sure as you please the Emperor,” you retorted boldly.

Georgiana stopped, her eyes widening. Her face screwed up. Though her head nodded a little in slight acknowledgement.

“Georgiana, I don’t want us to be enemies,” you pleaded.

“I don’t want you to make him miserable. You may think you know him: he seems like a nice man, but he is only two steps away from Peter. He loves parties, drinking, fun, revelry and all things wild; are you ready to have that as your husband?”

“I didn’t even choose this match. I don’t even love him- I only met him a month ago! And he offered you his hand and you couldn’t accept it! I did not have a say in the matter to be with him! Live with your choice and I’ll live with one that wasn’t even mine!” you yelled, your cheeks feeling hot.

Her nostrils flared and she walked away, flouncing like a peacock.

Sinking back onto the seat, you cursed your temper and tongue for getting the best of you.

How could you make peace of this conundrum? Even if the Empress liked you, it seemed no one else at court would now. Especially knowing the kind man who gifted you a dog spent his nights in wildness…and maybe in Georgiana’s arms.

Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen

The Great Taglist/Promised: @stardust-killer-queen @itsametaphorgwil @freaking-nix @im-an-adult-ish @grigorlee @themficsilike @simonedk @deck-heart @staradorned @writeroutoftime @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Note

Reader finally breaks down and says this out loud, “ It’s lonely here without you. ” Arthur has finally return from being stranded in Garuma and surprises her.

This one ended up being so fluffy! Enjoy, Anon!

Read all my requests on AO3!

You stand on the edge of the swamp in this miserable place named Lakay. You hate it here, even more than Shady Belle. Sure, that place had been in the swamp surrounded by gators and infested with mosquitos. The walls always emitted a moldy stink, but at least there’d been room for everyone.

Lakay is even worse. It’s tiny, the few structures sit right on top of the swamp itself. Not only that, but there’s heavy evidence that this place had been recently occupied by the Night Folk. The skulls of their victims sit on spikes on the single path leading into Lakay.

Beyond the physical ugliness of it is the general mood of the camp. Everyone is anxious, scared and distraught. When Charles had returned to Shady Belle the evening of the highly anticipated bank heist, he hadn’t hesitated to tell everyone what had happened. Hosea and Lenny were dead, John was in prison and all the others were on a boat headed to God knows where.

When you and Sadie heard the news, you both jumped into action to get everyone to safety. Grimshaw and Pearson, who would have normally been the ones to get things moving, were in too much shock to do so. There were high fears that the Pinkertons, who had cornered Dutch and the others in Saint Denis, would be able to find the hideout, so it was clear that the gang had to be moved. You and Sadie barked out orders, urging everyone to get packing and to leave.

While everyone got packing, you and Sadie discussed where to go. You couldn’t go back west and there was nowhere in the east or south. That was when Strauss told you about Lakay and how he’d heard rumor that the locals were terrified of it. Sadie told you to manage things and she took Charles up to it to clear it of the Night Folk.

While they were gone, you and Grimshaw got things packed up. Abigail was a problem as she was worried about John. She wanted to bust him out of prison, but right now the gang couldn’t sacrifice the people to go rescue him and things were far too hot to risk it. Besides, there was no word on if he was going to be executed or not. Most likely, the prison would hold onto him until a trial could be held.

Finally, in the morning after the bank heist, you, Grimshaw and Pearson got the gang moved. It had been Pearson’s idea to leave a coded message in the manor in case Dutch, Arthur or the others came back looking. Hopes were not high that any of them would return however. It didn’t improve your mood.

You’re worried about all of those that disappeared on the boat, but the one you’re most worried about is Arthur. You’ve been in a relationship with him for the past nine months and things were starting to get serious when he’d gone with the others to rob the bank. Your relationship had been to the point where you’d started thinking you might spend the rest of your life with him. Now he’s gone, lost at sea or stuck on an island or perhaps even another continent entirely. No one knows where he and the others are.

As the gang tried to settle around Lakay, unpacking and arranging as much as they could in the tiny town, you tried keeping morale up. Working on unpacking and arranging made it easy for you to bury your fears, worries and pain, but when it was done, they were the only things you had left to occupy yourself.

That first night in Lakay was extremely difficult. You set up yours and Arthur’s spot at the back of the largest building, though it still felt like you were on top of the other girls and Jack. You weren’t used to having a sleeping spot alone, having shared one with Arthur for months. It was an alien feeling and you spent several hours lying awake, listening to the groans of alligators and the singing of frogs.

It’s been nearly a month since the bank heist and there’s still no word of Dutch, Arthur or the others. Sadie and Mary-Beth did some investigating in the area and found out the boat they’d snuck on had been headed south to the Caribbean, but there’d been no word on if the boat ever arrived at its destination. Of course, communication with ships was spotty at best, so if there’d been any problems with it during its voyage, there wouldn’t be word for another few weeks.

You’ve spent nearly every day the same way. In the morning, you help Pearson set out coffee and a simple breakfast, usually consisting of bird or alligator eggs, then you spend the remainder of the morning doing chores and trying to keep spirits up, but it’s hard when yours are so low. By early afternoon, you’re able to slip away from camp in order to go hunting. You often bring back eggs and sometimes even crawfish.

You hate hunting in the swamps. It’s not only because you know you’re not the top of the foodchain out here. The swamps hold a certain ugliness you can’t get past. Everything seems to hold a layer of slime on it, and the smell of stagnant water permeates into the air. You miss the rich green forests in the west, the blue mountains, the yellow plains and orange deserts. Sure, out there you’re just as likely to be hunted by bears, wolves or mountain lions, but they’re the devils you know. Alligators are a whole new beast.

When you’re in camp, you try to appear busy and determined, but inside all you want to do is crawl into your bedroll and sink into the floor. You were devastated by the news of Hosea and Lenny, both shot down by Pinkertons. Charles told you how Arthur stayed with Lenny until he was dead, but how Hosea had been shot in the street in front of everyone. He was like a father to you. He was the one who saw your potential first all those years ago and convinced Dutch to keep you, teach you how to be an outlaw.

The deaths aren’t the only things making you miserable. You’re scared for Arthur, terrified that he might very well be dead. You hate not knowing what’s happened to him. You’d rather know he was dead than to be left guessing because then you’d at least know what to do.

You miss the way he held you at night, his voice, his body. The way you two synchronize during a hunt, bringing down the best and largest prey. Camp never wanted for meat when you two worked together. You miss the nights under the stars, swimming with him in the lake. The things you’d talk about. Arthur was the only one you could tell anything to without fear of judgement, knowing he’d want to hear whatever you had to say. It was the same for him. You loved the days he’d come, shaken up by a shootout or when Sean died and he’d laid his head on your shoulder and cried. You’ve never trusted or loved anyone as much as you do with Arthur.

You sit now at the edge of the swamp. It’s morning, and you wish you could see the sky. Even though it’s a clear day, you can never seem to see the blue of it in the swamp. It’s always so muggy. Normally you’d be in camp, helping get the chores started and talking to the other girls, but you just can’t do it this morning. There have been days since the bank heist that you just miss Arthur more than the others and today seems to be one of them. You also just can no longer bear hiding the fact that you’re heartbroken. It seems that the only thing you see in camp is everyone’s worried eyes and they all beg for answers which you can’t provide. You just can’t do it anymore.

The rock which you’re sitting on at the base of a slimy tree is starting to hurt beneath you, but you ignore it. You stare off into the shallow, mucky lake, aware that a gator could be inches from the shore, perfectly hidden by the murky water. You don’t really care though. Right now, it seems like nothing will ever get better.

Things wouldn’t be so hard for you, you feel, if someone, anyone, would ask how you’re coping with all this. It wasn’t like your relationship with Arthur was a secret. Hell, he danced with you in the open when Jack was brought back, pulled you into his lap multiple nights when he played poker. Even kissed you in sight of the others. They all know you two were involved. You just feel like it would be a relief if someone asked you how you’re doing instead of you always making sure they were doing fine. You feel like because everyone’s depending on you and Sadie to keep things together, you can’t show even a moment of weakness.

As you sit near the lake, you feel a sudden surge of anger. You’re angry at the Pinkertons, who destroyed everything and chased your family into the sea. You’re angry at the gang, they seem to need to be told what to do by you and Sadie. It puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You’re angry with the Night Folk, for leaving such an ugly place for you to live in, angry with the gators, the mosquitos. Everything.

You pick up a rock and throw it as hard as you can, watching as it splashes into the lake several yards away. Nothing comes of the movement, not even a gator to inspect the splash. You feel like it’s a perfect example of your life. Even if you went into camp and screamed yourself hoarse about how mad you are, nothing would change. They’d all still expect you to bring back meat, to keep them functioning. No one would offer or even care to help you out.

You know you should go back soon. You’ve got a basket full of crawfish that Pearson would absolutely love and a sack of berries. You just can’t do it though. Not today. You’re so tired. Besides, you wouldn’t have any improvements on company there. There’s just as many gators there as there are here. At least you can’t hear any arguing out here.

A tear slips down your cheek. Things have never seemed so low before. You clasp your hands together and put them to your lips, staring off across the water. A ball forms in your throat and your chest tightens. All you can think about is Arthur and how he’d have ideas, how he’d be able to help lift this weight from your shoulders. You wouldn’t want him to take all of it, of course. He does that enough already. But he would help. Not only that, he’s been your center for so long, and now he’s gone.

“It’s lonely here without you,” you say aloud, wishing that somehow, someway, he could hear you. If he’s alive, you’ve no doubt he misses you too.

Something rustles in a bush behind your tree, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a bird or a wild pig. Then you hear footsteps. Your stomach drops further, knowing it’s someone coming to try and convince you to come back to camp and pretend to be fine. You drop your head to your knees, you just can’t take it today. Then you hear a voice you’ve been desperate to hear again.

“I’ve been lonely too, darlin’.”

You look up, your cheeks wet, and your eyes land on Arthur. Your breath leaves your body in a harsh burst. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath ever since you found out he was missing.

“Arthur!” you say in a rough whisper. He smiles at you behind his thick beard, his face is heavily sunburnt and his shirt is semi-transparent from the sweat, rubbed with dirt and torn in a few places. He looks like he’s been through hell.

You stand up and run the few feet over to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He grips you tight and buries his face into your hair as you sob into his chest. All the emotions you’ve been bottling up over the past weeks come rushing out, ripping through your chest and throat. You look up and gently cup his cheek, trying not to irritate his burnt skin. He smiles and leans down to kiss you.

“God, darlin’, I can’t tell ya how much I’ve missed you.”

You press your forehead to his. “Me too. But thank God you’re alive! I thought you might be…”

He slides a hand gently around your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline. “I’m okay, sweetheart. A little rougher for wear, but I’m a’right.”

He tells you that he’s just returned and how he looked for you in camp. When he couldn’t find you, he was worried that perhaps you’d done something drastic in the light of the failed bank robbery and gotten yourself killed or arrested. He was relieved when Grimshaw said you were out hunting in the swamps and he’d come to find you.

You don’t know how long you both stand there, just holding each other. You’re reluctant to leave his grasp. He’s your pillar to lean on once more. You nuzzle into his chest, his heart pumping in your ears and his lungs sounding strong. You place a soft kiss over his heart and he tightens his arms.

In Arthur’s mind, there isn’t a better way you could have welcomed him home. When the boat sank, he’d been terrified and the last thing he saw was your eyes. Then he woke up on Guarma and suffered through the horrors on the island, and he missed you more than he thought possible. Several nights, he felt like you were there, holding him tight. It had been a wonderful comfort to him. On the way back home, he knew he never wanted to lose you again, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Even now as he holds you, he thinks of how to ask you to be with him forever. He’d ask right now, but it isn’t the time. He can tell you’ve had difficulties too. Grimshaw even admitted to him that she’s let you take on far too much, even though Sadie’s been doing just as much.

He slides a finger under your chin and lifts your face to look up at him. He smiles and kisses you again, feeling your watery eyelashes brush his cheeks. Even in this smelly swamp, you still smell like you, like home. You feel familiar and steady in his arms, he never wants to let you go. But let you go he must. He unwraps his arms from around you, but takes your hand in his.

“Come on, darlin’. We gotta go back. I imagine the others will be back any moment.”

As you walk back to Lakay with him, you think that at least things are unlikely to get worse from here. You just hope that you’ve hit the bottom and that the only way to go is up from here.

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #awkward asks

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stardancerluv · 5 years ago

Text

Hello, Anon! I went through drafts & different outcomes/scienieros. I hope you like it. I will post here at least one different version. When I do I will reference to the title, so you know that was an alternate take. Enjoy!

King of Gotham, Daddy to One

Summary: The wind blew you in and changed his life.

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Reference to abuse, Daddy kink, virgin, cum, smut, an unintentional voyeur and a certain amount of fluff.

Rain was heavy in Gotham, as the lightning streaked across the puffy gray clouds, and the thunder rumbled loudly.

You ran away from your father’s large beefy hands as he chased after you. You weaved in between various buildings and alleyways

He was a low level pimp, it would be only a matter of time; before he or one of his goons would find you. Perhaps, he would succeed in beating you up and you’d die. Your life in a word was miserable.

Seeing an overhang you went over to it, to get out of the rain. Hiding there awhile you managed to drift off.

“What the fuck?” A deep voice so startled you, that you fell right into a large puddle. Getting up you backed away from the man with white blonde hair. “Who, are you?” You didn’t move as fear filled you. You resisted a shiver that came over you, as the cold rain water seeped into your clothes. You didn’t speak.

“Victor, you gotta kick this nasty habit, I hate having to come back here to discuss particulars.” You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, when you heard another male voice. He gave a strangled sigh. “Wait, who the fuck is that?” You opened your eyes.

As the man with the blonde hair opened the door wider, he flicked his cigarette away, shaking his head. The other one shielded his eyes to better see you. “Hey you, stop lingering,” He beckoned to you with a gloved hand before running it through his hair. “come in from this damn weather.”

“Ok.” You agreed in a small voice.

*****

He hoped they wouldn’t regret this, helping some Gotham brat. When Roman saw you, he was taken a back, you were a small girl. Your delicate features caught his eye. He swallowed hard when he saw the smudge of a purple bruise on one cheek.

“You’re just a girl.” Roman exchanged a look with Victor.

Your long stringy wet hair fell into your face as you looked down. “I am twenty.” You held tighter onto the strap of your knapsack.

“Oh, ok....”He pressed his lips together. That didn’t make the sight of the bruise or how desperate you looked any better. “It looks like you’ve hit a rough go of things.

You nodded. As you stood there dripping on the floor, looking god awful. He felt compelled to take care of you. “What’s your name?”

Something lingered in your eyes, that intrigued him. Your eyes met his for the span of a breath before looking back at the floor. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N lets get you upstairs so you can get into something dry. Maybe tell us what happened, Y/N.” He tested out your name. He liked it.

He looked to Victor, “Clear the rest of my night. I am going turn the night around for Y/N.”

“Sure thing boss.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You spoke fast, barely looking up. “Just put me in a small dry closet, I’ll leave when the storm is over.”

A wave of emotions washed over him. “Don’t be silly, I would never fucking do that.” Seeing you wince, he sighed. “I will make sure things are better then that.” He gestured to you again. “Follow me.” As you waited for the elevator, he slid you a glance. “I want you to tell me what happened to you. I am going to make them pay.

*****

Roman, sipped from his martini as he watched you eat the food, the chef brought up.

The jeans, you had slipped into revealed just how tiny your frame was, your incredibly bright socks were endearing. The shirt that you tied in front of you showed the soft curves you had. Though, seeing another another purple bruise on this time on your arm made his blood boil. Your hair, looked soft and shiny as it framed your face.

Victor appeared with a sundae, he put it near you as you ate. He noticed that you flinched when Victor grew close.

“Oh, you didn’t have to.” You said shooting the two of you a look before continuing to eat.

Roman, smiled. “Sweetheart, you are here now. You can stay for the foreseeable future,” He shrugged. “I will take care of you.” The words felt odd on his tongue but the sentiment felt good. This was new to him.

She looked at you, there was a storm in your eyes. The moment, you met his eyes, you looked away again.

Normally, he enjoyed when someone knew their place. You were like a whipped puppy which probably was not far from the truth. Those purple bruises and your lack of eye contact spoke louder then you ever could.

“Thank you.”

****

Later, that night when you were alone in the bedroom, you threw yourself on the bed. The day finally slammed you hard. You cried no more like sobbed into the pillow.

The kindness of your rescuer, stole your breath away. He was so kind, it was too much for you. You were drawn to him in ways you couldn’t explain. He was incredibly handsome for an older man but there was something about him that simply grabbed you.

As you held the pillow to your body that night, a part of you wished it was him that you were curling up to. For the first time, in a very long time you felt safe.

*****

When your father found out that Roman Sionis and Victor Zsasz was looking for him, he disappeared.

*****

As safe as you felt living with Roman, you still had trouble sleeping, even three months later. You would wake up with nightmares of your father finding you. Tonight was one of those nights.

Unable to fall back to sleep, after tossing and turning, you decided you’d have more of the chocolate cake you had a few days ago. Walking past his office, you saw the light was still on. Since he was up as well, you figured you’d bring him a slice too. You poured some milk into some glasses, and then headed to his office.

With a push of your hips, you opened the door to his office. He was sitting behind his desk reading papers, he didn’t look happy.

“Y/N, it’s 3 in the morning. What are you doing up?”

You came around his desk and put down the slices of cake and the glasses of milk. “I couldn’t sleep so grabbed a slice.” You hopped onto his desk. You had grown so comfortable being there that you comfortably wore only a tshirt and a pair of panties. His desk was cold.

He gestured to the additional piece and glass. “I saw your light was on, so I figured I’d bring you a piece too.”

He smiled. “That was sweet of you.” He grabbed his plate. “You forgot something.” “Oh! What?” “How am I going to eat it?” You brought a hand to your mouth. “Oh! I am sorry.” Then you smiled as an idea struck you. “I know what I can do.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

You hopped off the desk. “Can you back up a little for me?” In your mind, you relished how good he looked in his maroon and black silk pajamas and robe. Though, he always looked good.

He slouched less in his chair as he backed up. Grabbing his plate, looking at him, you chose to straddle one of his legs. The silk felt good on your legs. Being astride him like this made an ache blossom deep within you. It was a good ache.

You broke a piece of the cake off and offered it to him. He tried to grab it, “No,” You held your hand back, you shook your head. “Let me feed you.” You said evenly despite feeling as if you heart was going to burst.

You brought it closer to his mouth. He complied and it almost killed you. Occasionally, his hand went up to yours barely touching it. A few times his lips grazed your finger tips, each touch of his lips, made the ache more intense. This was new you. He finished his cake way too soon.

“Your turn.” He said simply.

Turning, you grabbed your plate and handed it to him. “Where shall I sit?”

“Right here baby.” He patted his thigh.

You settled, straddling his thigh, but kept your weight off him, like before. He met your eyes, “Sit down or I will lay you over my knees and slap your ass....and you won’t have any cake.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart which was already racing, beat even faster at the idea of being over his knees. “And why, would you lay me over your knees?”

“That’s how I would treat you for being bad.” You swallowed. Something about that sounded incredibly delicious.

“I better be good then.” You settled on his thigh. He made a sound that you couldn’t discern. You went to move but his look froze you in place. “Am I too heavy?”

“Don’t be silly.”

You licked your lips and waited for his offering.

You made a soft sound with the first bite, “I forgot how good it is.”

“Only the best, baby.”

He offered you another piece and yet another but this one he pulled it away, making rock on his thigh. “You don’t play fair.”

He smirked. “Did I ever say I’m fair?” “No.”

“Life is no fun if I play fair all the time.” He grabbed a piece, offered it to you but you had to lean in. Right as you thought, you could enjoy it, he ate it. Your mouth dropped open, and he chuckled. He grabbed a piece, you didn’t go for it. “It’s for you I promise.”

You opened your mouth, this time you grazed the tips of his fingers with your lips. It made the ache almost unbearable.

Your eyes met. You wondered if he knew you deliberately did that. “Two more pieces.”

He offered you one, you happily took it. Then he held up the last one. This time he leaned in as you leaned in.

It happened, you gasped as your lips met his. Your eyes immediately snapped open. His hands grabbed you and pulled you closer to him. It was then that the two of you finally kissed. You followed his lead in the kiss. When you felt his tongue, you easily opened your mouth, moaning into the kiss. You had never had a kiss like this.

One of his hands, slipped under your t-shirt. “You’re so soft baby.” You couldn’t help but move under his touch. His hand felt so good. “Will you show daddy?”

“Show daddy?” You could barely finish the word. It shook you to your core. “Show daddy what?”

“Daddy, wants to see the rest of you.”

You faltered. “I’ve never...” You looked away. “Oh...”

You didn’t want to scare him away, so you pulled your shirt over your head, letting it drop onto the floor of his office. So you were only clad in your panties.

He rested his hands on your hips. His thumbs caressing you gently. “I would have thought,” he let his fingers drift, till they slipped between where your panties and his pajamas met. You called out and rubbed against him. “That you were experienced. Especially, since you’re so lovely, baby.”

You decided you’d show him. “I only ever did this.” You rubbed up against his thigh, his fingers that were there. “And I’ve never had a kiss like that.” Embarrassed, you looked away.

******

“Do not be embarrassed.” He swallowed. “I will say this, the men you knew, were boys.” You looked down once again. With his hand under your chin he tilted you face up to look at him. “I promise to take care of you. So do not look away from me.”

“Ok,” you whispered.

He was at a loss for words. These last few months were a slow torture. Ever, since laying his eyes on you he wanted you and he always got what he wanted. He waited for you.

“Now, I may push your limits but I promise it will be fun.” He smirked. “Do you understand?”

You laid your hands on his chest, “I want you, Roman.” He groaned as he heard you say his name. It made him even harder.

Roman, remembered when Victor and him found you, how bad off you had been. That is the only reason why he waited. He was not a beast, he never have and never would force himself on anyone. When he felt how aroused you were when you straddled him, he no longer was going to deny himself or you. And tonight, he’d finally have you.

“Good.” He put his hands over yours and squeezed your hands. “Take those off.” He watched as you pushed off your panties. The site was delicious.

He took your hand, “Get up and come with me baby.” Taking your hand he brought you to his room. He shed his robe. “Go lay down for daddy.” He watched as crawled onto his bed. Damn. How did he get so fucking lucky.

He went over to her. He laid on his side beside her. Cupping her cheek, he looked into your eyes. “I am going to make you feel so good.” He kissed you then, your hesitation yet willingness to follow his lead was wonderful.

He let one of his hands drift down your body. He caressed your breasts, loving how they were ripe for touching. He barely touched them when he was able to pull moans from you. “Yes, baby let daddy know when he makes you feel good.” He pulled back to watch the pleasure to fill your face. He let his hand drift down lower. He saw that your legs were closed. “Open for Daddy. He wants to make you feel so good.” He cooed.

“Oh there you are.” He made a soft sound as he dragged his fingers against your wetness. “So wet for daddy.”

He as he rubbed you. He saw you arch. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You were breathless.

He found you opening, he slipped a finger in a little feeling the resistance, as you made a sound he saw a of discomfort. “It will be ok, I promise baby.” God it made him hard, knowing he’d be your first. He rubbed at your little nub, that pulled a loud moan, the prior discomfort immediately a memory.

“Yes, like that.” “Yes, what baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You whimpered, putting your own smaller hand over his. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” Your eyes met his, “I used to touch myself there thinking of you.”

“Oh really baby?” “Yes.”

He moved, his fingers firmer on you. Your words made him harder still. He felt like he could burst. He watched as your hands shifted up to your breasts as he rubbed you feeling you grow wetter.“Do that baby, help me make you feel good.”

You tossed your head from side to side, “oh daddy...daddy.” You whimpered, panting.

He saw you still arching, panting. He sped up his fingers. You saw you just move uncontrollably. “Cum for me baby...cum for daddy.”

That’s when he watched as you shook and screamed out.

****

A floor below, Victor awoke to the scream filling the silent building. He jumped out of his bed, grabbing a t-shirt he pulled it on and was at the elevator, before be could catch his breath. He rain his fingers through his short blond strands. He knew you had had a rough go of things.

He had grown to be concerned about you. Before you, his loyalty was simply to Roman and his empire. When you came to reside in it, he also cared for you. He was eager to make your father pay for the pain he caused. He grew to see you like a sister to him. Like Roman, he’d protect you to the death. He hoped right now that you didn’t do anything stupid.

The elevator doors opened to Roman’s floor. Following the indistinct sounds not sure from where, he ran when he heard you scream again, but then stopped dead in his steps.

In front of him, he watched for the briefest of moments as Roman spoke to you in low tones as he wrapped arms around you as he began moving in and out of you.

He turned on his heal, relieved you were ok. He was relieved neither of you saw him as he made it back down to his floor.

*****

“How did that feel baby?” He eased his fingers from you. He licked his fingers. Damn, you tasted good. He knew you two would have alot of fun. He pulled off of his pajama top and tossed it.

“Would you like to help daddy feel good now?”

“Yes, daddy you have to feel good too.”

“Open up wide for me baby.” He caressed your legs, enjoying the site of how you looked with your legs opening further to fit him.

He climbed over you, pushing his pajama pants down. He sighed as he was able to release bis hardness from their silken prison. “You look so damn good baby.” He said softly as he positioned himself over you. “Baby, look at me.”

You raised yourself up and met his eyes. “Yes.” When you saw him, your mouth opened more. “Is that what I do to you daddy?”

He nodded. “Yes, baby. You made daddy very hard.” He made himself slick with your wetness, it felt so good. “This part is going to hurt, but I promise this is the only time it will.”

You licked your lips and nodded. “Ok,” you were breathless still from just cumming. He brought his hardness to your wet entrance. It pulled a moan from him. He had never waited this long for someone.

“This is the part that will hurt baby but we will get through it and then we can make daddy and youself feel good all over again. He pushed forward. You called out screaming but slowing his pace, it turned into a deep moan as he filled you. You were so tight he almost came from himself sliding into you.

“Are you ok baby?” He thumbed away one tear that sprang from one of your eyes.

As you nodded, he caressed your legs so that they wrapped around his waist. He spoke softly to you, cupping your face. “Now you are going to feel so good.”

Slowly he began moving in and out of you, he moaned as he did. “Oh baby,” he moaned.

He looked a moment at his doorway and shook his head. He thought he had heard something but he had been mistaken. “You feel so good.” He whispered.

“You do too, daddy.” You began moving with him. Damn, he felt so good being deep within you.

Pleasure filled him more as your small hands drew him into a breathless kiss. Your lips and tongues met like your bodies.

He continued to thrust into you, pulling back he wanted to watch your first time. You were even lovelier then before. Hair and eyes wild He could feel as you tightened around him, it made him almost cum right there. It shot reams of pleasure right up his spine.

“Cum again for me baby.” He urged. Feeling, seeing you arch was a delight. Then you shook around him, calling out his name before wilting under him. He continued to move in and out of you. “You feel so good.” Your eyes were heavy with the pleasure he had given you. He felt himself get closer, and closer still. He wasn’t going to make any risks.

Moving, he pulled himself out of your tight wetness reluctantly. He looked down at you, as he wrapped his fingers around his hard length and rubbed himself up and down hard. “Oh...baby.” He moaned and finally came hard, bracing himself with one hand on the bed as he shot onto your stomach and breasts. It made him feel all the powerful. He had made you his.

“Daddy, what did you do ?”

He smirked. “Daddy came hard because of you.

“Oh!” He watched as you ran a finger into it. Then brought it your lips and licked at it. “Ooh, daddy tastes good.” The sight, your words made him twitch. He moved and laid down beside you, a smirk played curling his lips. “That makes daddy very happy.” He handed you his pajama pants. “Wipe yourself baby and come cuddle daddy.”

He managed to capture his breath and happily wrapped an arm around you as you curled up to his side.

#ewan mcgregor #roman sionis pov #roman sionis x you #roman sionis smut #roman sionis x reader #black mask #bop #birds of prey #king of gotham daddy to one #fanficton #roman sionis fanfiction #request #black mask x reader

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

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At Bay (again)

Idk if its just me, but the formatting for the At Bay one shot is really screwed up for me. Like there are large chunks of just plain space, and the read more line covers up the whole thing. Plus the text is overlapping each other???? So, I’m just gonna post it in a regular text thing also, just in case. If the other post is working fine for you, great! But I’m just doing this too just in case it’s screwed up for anyone else. So yeah, here is me, doing that

Anon: Hi! I don't know if you ship it (if not, feel free to ignore), but could you do something with Link x Mipha? Thanks!!

Ok so, I was going to write a nice fluffy confession scene with Link and Mipha, but that just got my wheels turning about how Mipha crafted the armour. And that turned into how I thought she got the materials she need to make it. And that turned into a cool flashback scene, and that turned into me wanting to make Mipha bad ass... and that turned into me wanting to give her compelling character growth. Ok I’m basically saying that this whole oneshot is about Mipha. It’s still based on the Mipha/Link ship, buuuut this is just a long winded way of me saying Link isn’t really in this one. So...sorry? Maybe in the future I’ll finish the fluffy confession scene, but for now, enjoy this! (Cause I really love how it turned out)

At Bay

Miphlink 5459 words

Just as the sun was swallowed by the sea, she rose to watch the horizon. The last few rays of light shimmered like amber on the cool waters of Lanayru Bay. In a few moments, the whole ocean would be washed by the cold of night. Waves crashed against the ragged rocks, the white foam pooling near her ankles. The princess’ eyes were fixed on the sky, the sea breeze nipped at her face, causing her fins and jewelry to sway. It was a cloudless night, the stars seemed to twinkle restlessly in the air. The moon was nowhere to be seen, the bay only reflected the silent stars, and the flickering orange light from behind her. The sergeant probed the campfire with a stick, fiddling with the charred wood. Kneeling by its warmth, he looked up at her. “Your Highness, you need not sit so close to the shore. We don’t know what kind of monsters lurk in the sea at this hour.” Mipha turned her head back at him, a wry smile on her lips. “Don’t worry yourself, Seggin. I am quite skilled with my trident thanks to your teachings.” She patted her weapon that lay beside her, its metal clinked against the rocks at her touch. “Besides,” she returned her gaze to the sky. The summit of the snowy mountain divided the eventide with its presence. It seemed to rise beyond the heavens. “We should hope that one particular beast appears tonight.”

Rising himself from the campfire, Sergeant Seggin walked and stood beside Mipha, who was crouched on the damp rocks. The towering figure of Mount Lanayru cloaked the bay, along with the surrounding trees, in a soft shadow. The evergreens rustled, and the familiar smell of the sea was carried through the air. A collection of loose pebbles crawled across the shore from the forces of water and wind. Shifting her bare feet, she could feel the smooth and rounded stones under her.

It was not four hours ago, when Mipha and Seggin had swam through the Rutala River, and hiked across the Brynna Plains to get to their current point. While her father had known the true purpose of her trip, she had only told the Sergeant only the bare details necessary in order to get him to come. Afterall, a princess would never be allowed to do this all alone. Seggin set the hilt of his own spear against the ground, leaning his weight against it. He gazed at the sky along with her, although he was unsure of exactly what he should be looking for. “So this beast...er...spirit? Whatever you called it? You say you are not certain it will appear? How long should we expect to stay until we can reach a conclusive answer?”

Mipha’s eyes stayed fixed on the sky, searching for something that would complete the serene picture. “It is the spiritual form of a great goddess. If she should appear at all, it would help give confirmation...or more like a blessing, to a certain decision I must make.” The beauty of the night was laid out before them, but still, something was missing. After a beat she continued, “I should hope she should appear sometime tonight. They say she only rises just as the sun sets. However, if nothing changes by sunrise, we can return to the Domain immediately. I know you are always anxious about my wellbeing.” Mipha cast him another smile. That much was true, despite teaching her combat, the Sergeant, along with most of the royal staff, was always eager to have the princess safe in their company. Nonetheless, Seggin cocked a curious eyebrow. “Forgive me if it is not my place to pry, but the decision you speak of, what might it be?”

A silence fell once again. Telling him the full story would bring about a conversation she was not yet ready to have. She sighed. “I must...I wish to craft something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes...something very important to me.” Mipha looked at the ground, watching the foaming waves encircle her feet. “So, I must get a certain material from this spirit. Although, should she not appear, I shall take it as a sign that I must not pull through this...certain decision.”

Seggin narrowed his eyes. Though their dark complexion had often reflected the blur of war, he was still able to give a soft and kind gaze towards her. “For the sake of this decision, do you wish for this beast to appear?”

In the waters, Mipha watched her reflection. Her topaz eyes stared back at her, before being taken away by the tide.

“Yes.”

A silence returned once more between them. The crashing waves and whistling wind decorated the hours, with Seggin occasionally going back to feed the fire. The night continued to the point where both of the Zoras had leaned their tired weight against the large grey boulders across the rocky beach. The looming figure of Mount Lanayru continued, its shadow stretched across the bay. Mipha let out a sigh. One way or another, this night would decide her fate. And through the dark, she would see what the goddesses and spirits had planned for her future.

. . . . .

The hours merged, and the stars drifted across the skies. Seggin had offered to stay up and keep watch, but after about three hours, he too let his heavy eyelids droop. Mipha continued to stare at the sky, leaning her head against the large boulder.

Thoughts swirled around in her head. Perhaps she would not show up at all, it’s said that only those of pure intention and honest hearts would ever be graced with the presence of such a spirit. Mipha fiddled with her bracelet, trying to keep herself awake. Maybe this was selfish of her, forgoing the Zora monarchy for the sake of love. Sure, her father had told her to follow her heart, but what about everyone else? Even if they were to be together, there would always be a stigma, for an interspecies couple. Would the other Zora hate her? For choosing a Hylian over her own people? What kind of queen could lead a people that despised her.

Mipha sighed.

If the goddesses decide that we are not meant to be, then I guess I’ll just have to accept that I was not the one meant to bring him happiness...

She closed her eyes, escaping to happier memories, trying to keep the anxieties at bay. Everything may be stacked against her, but she was going to try anyway, for the sake of the warm feeling in her stomach. For the chance to look at his kind blue eyes for the rest of her life. For her restless soul that longed to hold him through every tender and terrible moment.

Mipha could already picture him, wearing the armour along with a rare and fantastic smile. Link’s sky blue eyes would sparkle along with the silver scale that Mipha herself would place. He’d be adorned with the helm and greaves, that would allow him to be by her side through the calmest and roughest of oceans and waterfalls. And the chest piece, the true symbol of a Zora princess’ love, would fit him perfectly. Yes, a perfect embrace that would protect him wherever their travels may take them. A soft smile crept onto Mipha’s face.

She sighed again. The prickling of heartache seemed to run all throughout her body, from her feet to her fins. All of the sudden, the smile slipped off of her face. Mipha held up her arm, examining her fin. It had glossy sheen, melding from a warm, honey color to a more striking lapis accent. It was thin, as all fins were, for the sake of cutting swiftly and speedily through the waters. Despite this, it dangled motionless, even her jewelry hung still, barely swaying from the movement of her arm.

Wasn’t the wind so much stronger a minute ago?

Indeed, the breeze abruptly had calmed, and her fin no longer flapped in the wind. Something was off, a cold charge seemed to ripple in the air. A new energy coarsed through Mipha’s body as she once again looked out towards the waters. At the end of the Lanayru Bay, closer to the rocky mainland, the waves had started to recede. Their once strong and lively motions now summoned towards something at the innermost part of the bay.

Mipha lifted her back off of the boulder, sitting up straight and observing the scene. And as if reacting to her movements, a sudden silence drowned the shore.

The winds stopped.

Then shifted.

Then rose.

A freezing air was washed over her, a strange hum filled bay. Getting on her feet, Mipha took up her trident cautiously. She searched the waters for whatever had moved the wind so suddenly. Perhaps a large octorok? A stray ice lizalfo cooling the breeze? She moved Seggin’s leg with the end of her trident. “Seggin, wake up. Something’s happening.” He let out a groan, mumbling something about never sleeping on duty. The princess turned towards the forest, scanning the trees for the snoring hinox that had made the evergreens shiver in the new wind. Or the frost talus that had made the temperature drop so quickly, she could start to see the breath in front of her face. But, there was nothing, and she turned back towards the sea, where the waves had started to move with new life. Mipha looked up.

Suddenly, she gasped. The sound was as swift as a common breeze, but with the sentiment of a last breath. All words escaped her, as it pierced the heavens. It seemed to wear a crown of frost and ice, but its brilliant size and majesty alone would command the attention of any army. The waves reflected its silver and arctic glow. The winds rose, the waves began to roar, the stars settled, and the sky was complete.

“She’s here.”

Naydra, the spirit of ice, the being of wisdom, the sacred servant of the goddesses, moved through the air, lowering itself from the glittering skies and moving towards the waters below. Even in the distance, the dragon’s golden eyes seemed to stare into her soul.

Mipha started to run towards the sea.

Seggin, who was jolted fully awake by her sudden movement, got onto his feet. “P-princess!?” Then, upon seeing the icy glow of a dragon in the distance, he stopped. A fear and silence gripped his throat, halting any attempts he made to move or speak. Still running towards the waters, Mipha turned back and shouted, “Just follow me! There’s no time to waste!”

Racing on top of a large rock, she crouched, then launched her weight and momentum towards the sky. Performing a graceful flip, she dove headfirst into the waters. The ocean enveloped her in a familiar cool embrace. Then, Mipha broke her head above the surface and started to make her way towards the dragon, kicking and swimming with all her might.

Naydra was closing in, drifting closer to Mipha with every passing moment. The way her long body steadily arched and curved, you would think they were going through nothing more than a leisurely stroll. Yet in reality, the dragon had traveled the length of one fourth of the bay in only a few minutes.

Rapidly approaching her, Mipha could start to see the dragon’s reflection upon the water. It’s scales glowed like moonlight, emitting luminous blues and turquoise. The path of its flight was directly above the length of the bay, making its way towards the princess.

Mipha faced the spirit head on, checking the trident to make sure it was secure on her back. Then, she dove with incredible speed, letting the waters consume her.

The porgys hurried away, finding refuge in the nooks and crannies of the reef. The small, red, bioluminescent scales on her head glowed as she neared the dark depths of the sea. Then, Mipha channeled her built up momentum and forced herself back towards the surface, rising like a bird.

The water and droplets sprayed as she leaped, the freezing water dripping away as she was greeted by the cold air once more. At the arc of her breach, she quickly turned and faced upward. Mipha unhooked the Lightscale Trident. Aiming at the white scales that lined Naydra’s neck, she steadied her grip.

Naydra is here, which means there is still hope. Please, grant me your blessing.

She thrust with all her might. The trident soared across the sky, twirling and shining like a star. The dragon drifted slowly, its eyes seemed to wander towards the flash of movement, observing the streak of white.

Crashing back into the bay with a splash, Mipha quickly blinked away the water and watched the trident's arc. It had reached the apex of its flight, nearly parallel with the dragon’s body.

At any moment it would make contact, it would pry a scale off, she just knew it...

...but then, its speed faltered, its momentum weakened, and slowly, the trident arched back down towards the sea, having struck nothing.

NO!

Naydra continued on her path, and the Lightscale Trident crashed into the open waters without a sound. The dragon was simply too high up, no spectacular dive, leap, or throw from these waters could get her where she needed to be.

Suddenly, Seggin breached the surface beside her. A swirl of worry and determination filled his eyes. “What are you doing?! Surely you don’t mean to kill it in order to get the material you need?”

“I-I need her scales, but she’s too high up! And my trident, it-it’s…” Mipha looked behind her, across the width of the bay to where it had sunk. That far out… the seafloor was probably much deeper over there. No, there was no time. She turned back towards him, almost frantic. “Seggin, you're a great swimmer, and you’ve taught me all I know, surely if you try you can strike the spirit, yes?”

Looking up at the beast, the Sergeant simply shook his head. “I’m sorry, your highness, but from these open waters, and at that angle? I’m afraid the Zora are not gifted with flight.”

Naydra’s presence drifted above them, the brilliant gleam of her scales now shone with a silent mocking. Was this really it? The spirits had decided to come, just to ridicule her desires? Just to tell her that it wasn’t meant to be?

Mipha let out a shaky breath. Watching the length of the dragon move across the night, she observed its path of flight once more. She let out another breath, more controlled this time. Naydra’s blue glow reminded Mipha of his eyes, and she found her resolve once more. Seggin watched her in silence for a moment. Then, he attempted to speak.

“Princess, if this is for—”

“Give me your spear.”

“P-pardon?”

“We can get my trident later, give me the spear.”

The Sergeant complied, removing his silver spear and handing it to her, but he shook his head.

“Mipha, you need to stop and focus. Neither of us have the strength to throw it that far up—”

“Talk and swim, Sergeant! Follow closely, we have to catch up.”

With that, Mipha began her journey down the course of the bay, following under the dragon’s shadow. Seggin followed on her left, but his face was still filled with worry and confusion. He attempted to open his mouth again, before Mipha held up a hand to shush him.

She spoke bluntly. “You have a strong grip, right Sergeant? You are capable of throwing many times your own weight, correct?”

The Sergeant frowned. Of course he could, he had handled great swords and claymores through the tides of several battles. When sparring with others, he could shove them aside easily. He wasn’t given the nickname “The Demon” for nothing. Mipha, whom he had personally trained with the trident, should know this most of all. Unless, she specifically wanted him to...

“Are you saying I should—”

“Yes. So can you do it?”

He hardened his gaze. “Even if I did get you to a proper height, your own aim must be more than perfect, and the aerodynamics of my spear are different. I’m sorry to be harsh, but I don’t think you can make such a precise shot on your first try.”

“That’s why I’m not going to throw it this time,” Mipha replied, her eyes still fixed on the dragon in front of them. “You told me to focus, right? Well focus on her,” she nodded towards Naydra, “The path of her flight is nearing the base of Mount Lanayru. No doubt, she will eventually make her way up towards its peak, as the keeper of the Spring of Wisdom. However, she has slowly been angling herself closer to the waters ever since she first arrived. While I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how dragons fly, I can only assume that before they can rise to such a height, they must lower and dive themselves to build up energy, similar to how we dive and leap out of the sea. I can only hope she will be low enough for my plan.” The princess turned her gaze to him directly.

“You will launch me in mid-air where the bay meets the ocean, just near the base of Mount Lanayru. There, with that added height, Naydra should be close enough to meet head on, and I shall loosen her scales myself with a direct strike from this spear”

Seggin could only gawk at her, staring in a shocked silence. His dark scales blended with the night. Then, after he seemed to process the full extent of her words in his head, his eyes gleamed, curiously. “You truly believe this shall work?”

Mipha turned her gaze back towards the bay, her topaz eyes brimmed with new fire and life. “We won’t know until we try.”

The two of them focused their attention towards the ocean, now putting all their energy into getting to the end of the bay as fast as possible. Mipha snuck a glance up at the dragon, they were catching up. They were now below her front talons, the ice emitting from their scales started to cool on the edges of her jewelry. The princess smiled.

I’m not giving up on Link just yet.

Finally, they approached the mouth of the bay. The shadow of Naydra’s crown spilled over their tiny figures. Seggin turned towards the princess. “This is it, are you ready?” Mipha looked up at the sky. The dragon’s snout was pointed towards the sea. She had thought correctly, it was much lower than before. However, they were barely ahead of the dragon, for no Zora could keep up with its legendary speed forever. It was now or never.

She checked the spear on her back, making sure the clasp was secure. Mipha gave a nod towards Seggin, and they both plunged into the sea.

They dove in perfect unison. Colorful arrays of fish hurried away at their presence. The glow of Naydra seeped through the waters, a murky light that cut through the inky darkness. Seggin allowed himself to move in front of Mipha. They continued their dive through the waters, their bioluminescent scales leaving a blur of soft reds and turquoise. Suddenly, Seggin shot up, shifting his momentum towards the surface. Mipha followed suit behind him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, ready to burst at any moment. Trailing his stream of bubbles, Mipha watched as the Sergeant breached the surface above her. Just a few more seconds, and he would be at the apex of his arc, and then—

Mipha shot up like a cannon, spraying water through the air. She didn’t have time to enjoy the sensation, as she reached out instinctively. Her arm and hand extended, grabbing at something unseen. Water was still in her eyes, but the cold force of air pushed them away. Then, she felt it, the slight warmth of another Zora, and latched on. With an iron grip, she closed her hand around the blur of black scales. The two of them locked forearms, and in midair, Seggin flung her momentum further into the sky.

The frost was now biting, it formed distinctive lines that danced and crept the length of her jewelry. Taking the spear from her back, Mipha looked up, still soaring through the air. She was met with a golden gaze.

Naydra had started to crane its neck skyward, its crown reflecting the winking stars. The ice spirit seemed to sigh, and another breath of cold air escaped her. The creature’s eyes were as large as the sun, specks of amethyst and pearl decorated the beast’s face. Mipha didn’t dare to breathe.

The spiritual form of the goddess shifted its golden eyes, and smiled upon her.

Reaching the peak of her arc, Mipha turned her attention back to the spirit’s scales. They gleamed white, and sparkled like stars. They were so close, just a few more moments, just another instant, and she could reach out and touch them. Readying her spear, she started to turn her body, spinning through the air. She laughed to herself, about the unimaginable situation she was in.

With a practiced and graceful spin, Mipha let out the last of her momentum in a swift slice of her spear.

At first, it seemed she had cut at nothing air…

Then, she felt it make contact.

The scales were as tough as metal, but smooth like a polished stone. The spin of her attack has struck perfectly on the underside, and pried a large scale from the dragon. This time, her laugh fully escaped her, echoing in the air. The scale plummeted through the night sky, leaving a glimmering trail like a shooting star. It crashed into the sea, but floated in the water, which perfectly reflected the dragon's glow. Seeing Seggin start to make his way towards the scale, Mipha turned back towards the dragon, still falling through the air. Naydra was now ascending at a steep incline, all of its body seemed to glow with a new aura, as if sensing the loss of one of its sacred scales. Mipha smiled at the spirit.

Thank you…

Then, she turned back, and prepared to dive safely into the water

A large splash, and the princess returned to the bay once more. Breaching the surface, she let out large breaths, and rubbed at the cold biting on her wrist.

Seggin made his way towards her, the large scale cradled in his arms. His mouth hung agape, he was at a loss for words. Mipha took the initiative to break the silence. “Here, your spear.”

Holding it out, Seggin took it with one of his arms, still careful to keep the scale from drifting away. The Sergeant let out a short laugh. “Your highness, that incredible move you performed, that spin attack? Wherever did you learn such a thing? It certainly wasn’t from me.”

A sudden blush formed on her face. Sinking into the water to hide it, she let out a little whisper. “Well, uh, just from a friend.”

He nodded, “Well, it certainly got the job done.”

Quickly changing the conversation, Mipha asked, “May I hold it?” Seggin gave another nod, and pushed the scale across the water, making its way into Mipha’s grasp. The scale was cool to the touch. Running her hand down it, it was slick in one direction, but brushing it the opposite way revealed tinier bumps in the scale. They glowed white, but reflected a large assortment of bright colors at certain angles. Mipha smiled, it was perfect.

Seggin let out a forced cough, breaking through Mipha’s thoughts. She smiled. “Right, come now. Let us return to the shore”

. . . . .

“So...you did it.”

Back at the shore, the sun had begun to rise, barely peeking above the ocean in the east. Seggin cast Mipha a warm smile. “I’m quite proud of what you’ve done today.” She returned his expression with a kind smile of her own. “I couldn’t have done this without you Seggin.”

She then went back to cleaning her Lightscale Trident. A few bits of seaweed were still tangled in its prongs, and wrapped around the hilt. Otherwise, it was mostly intact. The Sergeant gathered the last of the food and supplies littered about their campsite, before looking back at Mipha. He watched her tend to her weapon, sitting comfortably on the ground, with a small pile of seaweed at her side.

Finally, he decided this was as good a moment as any. Seggin sat in the grass with her. “So, who is the lucky guy?”

A sudden rush of red appeared on Mipha’s cheeks. “I, uh, I’m not sure I understa—”

He let out a scoff. “I suppose you picked me to accompany you since I didn’t pay the most attention to spiritual and ceremonial studies.” He shrugged his shoulder, “Which is entirely fair. A sergeant doesn’t improve his skills by listening to hour long sermons about the goddess all day.”

Seeing Mipha’s confused face, he let out a huff and continued. “Although, even I know about the tradition of the white scale. You said you wished to craft something...when the dragon showed up... well, I’m no fool.”

He looked at her, Mipha’s shoulder’s loosened in realization that he knew. “You’re crafting the sacred ceremonial armour for a royal husband, requiring a silver scale that only females posses, and the scales of a dragon, for both bless the wearer with the safety of both a Zora’s affection and the protection from the goddesses.”

Mipha sighed, before letting herself look at him. “Please know I didn’t mean any harm keeping this from you! I never thought you were a fool, I simply… well I respect you as my teacher and such… so I thought…um… it would be better I didn’t say anything...cause it would be better if…”

“If I stayed silent and didn’t ask questions about why we were battling a giant ice spirit?”

Mipha let out a sheepish laugh. “I suppose…”

He scrunched his brows. “Although, I am still confused as to why you were so wary about telling me, princess. Are you embarrassed by him? Is he a noble? A servant?” Seggin scratched his chin.

“..hmm, or perhaps this Zora isn’t a him at all. Unconventional, sure, but having two queens wouldn’t be a real issue, at least for me. If that was your concern, please know—”

“No, no! I mean, thank you, but it’s not that… it’s…” Mipha let out a shaky breath, “I wish to give the armour to that knight, Link”

His expression seemed to instantly harden at his name

“That...Hylian? The one set to become a Champion simply because of that sword on his back?”

“Yes, I mean, I’ve known him since childhood and—”

“The one who put you in harm's way when you both fought the Ploymus Mountain Lynel alone?”

“He slayed the beast and helped people! And I was there of my own volition.”

“The one who refuses to talk? Choosing to speak with his hands? Has the blank stare and shows no emotion or respect?”

“Well, he’s not—”

“The one who is supposedly going to spend his company with Princess Zelda everyday after the official Champion ceremony in a few weeks? That’s the boy you wish to be committed to?”

Mipha didn’t bother to answer. She turned her head away, not looking at him. This is exactly what she was afraid would happen. She clenched her fist, nails digging into her palm.

A silence sat between them. Seggin just stared at the bay.

Then, Mipha took a deep breath, before standing up. Taking her trident, she slammed the hilt down with a force that demanded Seggin’s attention.

“Alright, yes! Link might be some of the things you say he is, but he is so much more. So, so, so much more. You may look at him and just see another Hylian, but I have watched Link all of my life. I’ve seen the strength and will that rests behind his blade when he protects the innocent. I’ve witnessed the tenderness of his touch when he comforts those around him in his embrace. Oh Hylia, I’ve watched his recklessness as he explores the world and the Domain with not a care in the world, other than satisfying a curiosity. I’ve seen every scratch and bruises he’s taken from his childhood, and healed every scar and burn from his youth. But I have loved him all the same, because even after all these years, in his eyes is the same love and adoration that he saved for me and me alone. He holds a blank gaze for the sake of keeping up a careful confidence, but every time I see him he graces me with a fantastic smile. I’ve fallen in love, Seggin, alright? And despite my endless respect for you and everyone else, I do not care anymore. I’ve fallen in love with a reckless Hylian, despite the world around me. Despite my every duty as the heir to the throne, despite Link’s every fault, despite it all I’m going to choose to give in to my heart’s desires. I have healed his every wound, and taken his every flaw, because he is who I fell in love with, and my heart belongs to him.”

Mipha stared into Seggin’s eyes, her topaz eyes were filled with the same fire and life as she had back under Naydra’s shadow. The Sergeant’s dark eyes looked back at her. He got onto his feet, a hard expression on his face. Yet, his eyes twinkled with a new warmth.

“Then we best get a move on, and hurry back so you may give him your important gift.”

Turning back towards the campfire, Seggin went to fetch his spear, and started to snuff out the campfire. Mipha just stood there, bewildered. She watched as he continued about his routine, gathering his satchel and gear without another word. The princess strode towards him, confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you still against my feelings for Link? Aren’t you still mad that I’ve chosen him?” The Sergeant stopped, and turned back to face her.

“In truth, Princess Mipha, I will never understand the true extent of how you have fallen in love with that Hylian. However, what I know for certain is that that boy is a strong and accomplished knight. My son, Bazz, used to spar with him when he was little. He’s become exceptionally stronger, and just studying his movements with the blade, well… Link has a strength not just in his sword, but in his compassion, with the way he taught my son and others as well. In his younger day I could see the kindness in his eyes as he ran around, protecting his other friends in their little sparring games.

“Although he has changed much in recent years, in my opinion not for the better, hearing your words sways me to the fact that perhaps that same young Hylian still lives when around you. So I trust your judgement, Mipha.” He tilted his head to the side.

“This night has brought the best out of you, it’s brought out a level of skill, precision, and talent that I have not seen throughout all my life. I can only conclude that this is the result of your compassion and determination to be with this Hylian. So I do not think anything I could say will sway such a strong heart.

“You obviously already have your father’s blessing, and not that you need mine, but I think that so long as Link gives you the same level of protection and love that you have displayed, then you have my support on the matter.”

Now, it was Mipha’s turn to stand in a shocked silence. Although, the quiet did not last long as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Unsure of what to do with his arms, Seggin patted her on the back, his more grumpy and serious demeanor returning.

“But, you should probably still not tell the others immediately. I can’t imagine people like Muzu will have the exact same view as I do.”

She chuckled, “That’s the plan.”

Letting him go, she turned back towards the bay. Picking up her trident, she started to make her way to the waters, ready to head back to the Domain, and complete a certain task. Craning her head back towards the Sergeant, she added, “and...thank you, Seggin. Truly, for everything tonight.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“It was my pleasure.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #mipha #mipha botw #seggin #seggin botw #naydra #naydra botw #miphlink

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madlymiho · 5 years ago

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Could I please request hc on how the monster trio would react of their Fem!s/o trying to leave the crew for personal reasons? Maybe they have a past that’s catching up to them or they have some unfinished business and they’re just trying to run away from the entire crew and disappear? Pls and Thank you!!

Oooooh that’s sooooo heartbreaking, omg! I love this and I hate this, lmao, so many twisted feelings! 😩

Thanks for the ask, anon! And hopefully it will suit you! ~

Luffy :

• From the first second you have accepted to become a part of the Straw Hat, Luffy has always considerated that you were nothing but family

• Your dreams, your fears, your fights, he embraces them strongly, always willing to fight for you if you ever need his strength, ready to set the world on fire if you are in trouble

• Luffy shares this special link with you, and as your captain, but also your life partner, he wishes that you can fully open yourself to him, and have some faith in what he can do for you

• So Luffy can’t accept that you want to leave, even if he knows that must have some good reasons, and that you don’t want to hurt them all ; he knows that without any proves ; he trusts you with all his heart

• He decides to go after you, no matter where you are ; from the deepest prison to the highest mountains, Luffy, along with his crewmates, would show up and you better be ready to meet the most stubborn person ever

• Every time you try to explain him that you can’t follow him anymore, that you have unfinished business somewhere, and you don’t want him to get involved with your past, Luffy shakes his head and crosses his arm, offering you his brightest smile while he simply denies your demand

• “Yo go there, and I go with you. Remember? We are family.” Luffy says, putting his heavy and self-assured palm on your shoulder, just to remind you that you’re not on a lonely road anymore, and whatever you’d do, he’d be there with you

• He laughs and gently wipes your tears, knowing deeply how much you have been afraid of his reaction, and the fact that perhaps… He’d have leave you to your journey, which has always destroyed your heart and shattered your feelings

• You run in his arms, and Luffy is terribly ready to welcome you there, his embrace warm and reassuring, while he pats your hair with some awkward and so Luffy-like gestures

• He promises you that when everything will be over, he’d sail to that specific island you have always dreamt about, making sure that all of your wishes would become real one day

Sanji :

• As soon as you have entered Sanji’s life, the link between the two of you became very profund

• Sanji doesn’t really need to talk to you to analyze your feelings ; he knows when you’re up to something, and even more when this thing seems heavy and more than complicated

• There’s this sort of gleam inside your irises, or perhaps the lack of it, which only alarms him deeply on the fact that you’re definitely not alright, and there are reasons about it

• Yet, he doesn’t want to cross your boundaries at the moment, preferring to take care of you with his best medecines, keeping his eyes on you discreetly because he feels it ; you’re on your way, and you don’t know how to tell him

• So the night you try to escape from the crew, Sanji isn’t asleep, he actually waits for you on the deck, a nocturnal picnic ready for the both of you to share

• He seems serious, lazily smoking his cigarette while he catches your bag and puts it on the ground, asking you with a warm and reassuring voice to take a seat here first, and have some hot chocolate, fruits and sandwiches, before you go

• It’s his way to make you talk ; and since you are busted, you know that you owe him the truth, so you accept his offer, and for hours, as you can’t help but cry and shiver, you let it go and explain your story

• Sanji has always been a good listener, and since he doesn’t want you to act recklessly, he simply gives you his opinion and the matter, his fingers running on your skin while he gently pulls you against his chest, so you can have some reassuring cuddle time together

• He knows that you need to get rid of your past, but he also believes that you will need help, and what a better one but the people who are already on board, and ready to take care of you, no matter what you’re living at the moment

• A bit asleep after many hours of talking, Sanji lies you back on your bed, kissing your lips, making sure that you don’t need anything, before he heads to the boys quarter, cigarette trapped at the corner of his lips, eyes full of determination

• “Hey captain, can we make a detour?” Sanji asks, leaned against the door. Luffy smiles, because he already knows everything and was waiting for the cook to make his decision

Zoro :

• Zoro might be the kind of boyfriend to be a bit detached from you ; this is not because he doesn’t want to have you around, but he has his own activities on board, and most of the time it consists in training sessions, booze times, and nap times

• Around the others, Zoro likes to keep things casual, slightly embarassed when you require some physical contact, even if he becomes really clingy when you two share a bed at night

• You love him deeply… but you are so sure that he wouldn’t even care if you leave the crew, because his behaviors make you feel that he works this way ; if you are here, it’s for the best, but if you are not… He would get along with it pretty easily

• But you’re all wrong about Zoro… because despite his distant nature, he knows exactly when there’s a problem, and as Sanji, he feels that you’re on the edge of running away for some reasons

• He gets tensed because of it, and shows a slightly harsher nature towards you, because he anticipates your departure, and it makes him deeply concerned, but also desperate. He wishes that he could find the words to reassure you, but nothing come out, and the gap between the two of you becomes almost unbearable

• The night you run away, devasted, full of fears and heartbroken, you don’t even hear that someone is running after you, and a few meters away from the Sunny, you’re suddenly tackled on the ground, your back protected from the dangerous fall by a strong grip to rescue you

• Zoro looks at you with furious eyes, but there’s also so much love in them ; you feel his despair, all those words he couldn’t say before, written deep in his lonely iris, while he doesn’t let you go, catching his breath after his intense race

• “Where do you think you’re going, idiot?!” Zoro snaps loudly, pulling you hard against his chest, his embrace so strong that you’re almost breathless

• He knows that you have your reasons, that you must feel awful at this moment, yet he doesn’t let lose his grip, his body holding you intensely, until you melt under his touch and desperately cry in the crook of his neck

• He doesn’t say anything, his own throat too tight to actually find his words, but he starts to rock you gently, pressing dozens of his best kisses on every part of your skin

• “You’re stupid.” Zoro eventually growls, his voice broken by his own emotions. You don’t need to speak anymore, as he knows you, you also understand that he will take care of everything from now

#one piece headcanons #one piece headers #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d. luffy #zoro one piece #black leg sanji #one piece imagine #one piece hc #hurt comfort situation #fluffy ending #one piece

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts, which is none rn, as my inbox is empty.)

Sleep deprivation, written by someone who doesn't like being sleep-deprived.

This was a request I didn't expect to get, considering it's been literal months since I've gotten one (and longer since I've actually delivered on one... Sorry again, Hubert anon). Thanks for it, Nonnie! I hope you like what I'm delivering haha. We're in the last 5th of the card, which is insane considering it took me a year to complete my first. I've recently gone back to it because wowie kazoowie it's fandom frenzy season again and SwSh has hit full-force with "I want to see more whump of these characters and I'm sure as hell gonna provide it". Nonie's alternatives made me wanna write stuff about Milo now, ah.

As to the story itself, I decided to make it kinda angsty because what's the point of writing Bede if it ain't to write angst about this guy being abandoned twice and a half? It's a slight canon divergence on what actually happened, but y'know, fanfiction has this cool thing that is "ignoring canon if it starts being inconvenient to me". Also there's Opal because I love this fairy grandma with an obsession for pink and not wanting to be told she's 88-year-old. Hell yeah.

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Journey Without a Destination

Summary: Keep going, keep going, for there is nothing to see when you are on a journey with no end. Without a point to his life and without a place to stay, Bede journeys day and night, finding some sort of refuge from himself in a forced spell of insomnia.

Fandom: Pokémon Sword & Shield (spoilers for up to the 6th Gym, slight canon divergence)

Wordcount: 1.6K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Keep going, keep going, for there’s nothing to see here.

Pointlessly wandering around the Wild Area, he has nowhere to go and nothing better to do than train and train until something happens or the sweet release of death arrives. There’s nobody for him to get back to, nothing for him to do, and no objective left for him to fulfil. Simply put, he’s stranded, alone with himself, with no Wishing Stars to collect and no Gym Challenge to complete now that he’s been stripped down from his endorsement and thrown away like mere garbage.

Nothing tastes the same, now. There is no pleasure in training when he knows he won’t be able to enter a stadium ever again, no spice to finding new creatures and see if they possibly match his team’s theme. There’s absolutely nothing but bitterness on his mind and salt to be spilled over the wounds he can’t be bothered to patch up, since there’s also no point in railing himself back up again.

And he supposes that’s his fault, in the end.

It’d be easier to blame Gloria and all of her little friends; but as much as he’d like to believe that, it’s not the case and he knows it. She happened to be there, her and that redhaired pigtail woman that’s apparently making research on… whatever she’s making a research on. Thing is, Gloria wasn’t the one who went to get the Chairman, wasn’t the one who called on him: she was merely standing there, contemplating whatever ugly doodle some kid had left on that crumbling wall. That somehow upsets him even more.

There’s also very much no point to mentally ramble about that now. What’s done is done: he’s been disowned, left to rot, with nowhere to go and nothing to accomplish. He’s, by all means, useless and nothing more than a waste of oxygen and resources; and yet he can’t bring himself to just vanish. It’s like he wants to suffer just because disappearing now would make the people who betrayed him right and his only wish, right now, is to either get back at them or regain their trust. He’s not sure whether or not he’d even get affection back (or if he even got “affection” in the first place back there. Not like he’s had much of a model to base himself off).

So, he’s been walking around, avoiding human interaction, with his sole source of social anything being his party. At least, as long as they’re his Pokemon, they won’t abandon him, right? Yeah. They’re always going to be together, between a rock and a hard place. Too bad they don’t seem to be able to tell him about their opinion on the matters at hand, because their telepathic abilities haven’t developed enough yet for that as far as he knows. Man, he wishes he’d be able to talk to them and get an answer instead of just throwing move names at them when he has to fight against the wild population and the couple Trainers dumb enough to fight him.

He still wrecks through their teams, but it has none of the flavour it used to have, and it ultimately only buys him some more money to spend on whatever he needs to continue fighting. Fighting for what other than futureless survival, he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t want to know.

As such he’s been walking for days and days, seeing the same stones and weeds all the time, unaware of how long has actually gone buy. He has no ingredients to make curry for his team or himself, resorting to eating whatever he can manage to get his hands on, never settling camps because staying immobile means possibly dying out without having been able to avenge himself. If he stops, he may never resume his journey without a destination; so he never stops, always tries to keep himself busy, even if it means having as sole distractions his own breathing, the faraway cries from the creatures inhabiting the land and whatever the weather decides to throw at him while his team rests. Can’t fight for your life if you have nobody to fight alongside with.

(Pokemon are the only living beings that haven’t left him anyway).

He’s tired. His feet hurt as soon as he takes a step forward or backward, tired of being pushed around when they have nowhere to go and nowhere to rest at. His hands hurt from the cold and almost-frostbite he develops when he crosses across the snowy areas, when he has to gather the balls of his fainted partners whenever he gets assaulted by something bigger than any of them are, tired of having to move and hold things when none of them have meaning or weight to bring to the table. His head hurts from the lack of rest and the tears he can’t always keep to himself, upsetting the Pokemon who haven’t fainted just yet.

Yet, even if he piles on fatigue like he’d put on clothes during the harsh winters, he refuses to sleep. It’d be letting his guard down from dangers coming from both the outside and the inside. It’d be being vulnerable during the downtimes in his tent to vandals and thieves, and during his sleep to nightmares about what’s to come and what could have been, what should have been. He doesn’t want to cry himself back to sleep when he could just ignore it all and simply walk.

Life is simpler when you just walk, walk, walk all day and all night long so he tells himself the same song over and over again.

Keep going, keep going, for there is nothing to see when you are on a journey with no end.

But, like everything, even he ends up abandoning himself and his feeble principles: before he realizes it, he’s heading to Hammerlocke yet again, feet heavy and eyelids heavier. His eyes have stung for the past day and night with sand, snow and exhaustion, his legs barely move anymore, his balance has been destroyed and buried. The voices in his head most likely don’t exist outside of it, plaguing his thoughts with things he didn’t need to hear.

His thoughts are too cloudy for him to even function properly anymore. He can’t remember how he got there, or why, even less what’s the point of it all. He doesn’t know which day of the week it is, or even which month. Climbing the stairs is painful and drains too much out of his energy, but he then remembers his party is almost fainted and he’s out of items to nurse them back to health, so he has to get up there and do something about it…

He wants to fall asleep right here and there, on the steps, but he can’t.

Keep going, keep going, for there is nothing to see in the depths of a desperate soul in search for something it cannot find again.

He has to continue. For what, for who, how and why, all of that doesn’t matter anymore; he just needs to keep going. To keep going and never stop to think ever again.

He supposes the lack of sleep starts getting to him when he can’t focus his eyes on anything in front of him, vision swimming and eyes bleary from the endeavour they’ve gone through until now. There may not be any torrential rain, sandstorms nor snowfalls in Hammerlocke, but there is the blinding sun that gives him a lethal headache and blinds him enough for him not to be able to tell where he’s setting foot anymore.

It’s no wonder he doesn’t manage to rise back up when he eventually tumbles, loses what’s left of his sense of balance and falls to the ground, scrapping his palms and knees, hitting his chin on the pavement, before everything turns fuzzy and dark. Maybe his destination-less journey has finally hit a stop, a halt, or perhaps its actual end. Maybe he doesn’t have to keep walking, keep moving, with no energy and no determination aside from basic survival and vague plans of revenge he doesn’t quite know who to target at.

Maybe that, now that he’s tired enough, he won’t see how much of a failure he’s been in his sleep.

Keep going, keep going, for there is nothing left else to do for a soul whose purpose has been robbed from it…

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Opal immediately gets surprised when, while in Hammerlocke for absolutely unrelated reasons, she finds an unconscious boy lying not far away from the stairs to the Wild Area. Aside from his pinks and purples, and his unlikely enchanted-looking hair, he looks less than stellar, weakened by the weather and the exhaustion that must be eating away at his bones, judging from the deep rings under his eyes and the feverish hue plastered over the bridge of his nose. She’s seen him somewhere before, she’s certain of it; but all she can remember from that is a sense of betrayal and a feeling of cold-hearted abandonment, so she walks up to him.

“Oh, such a fairy-like young man…”

How is an old lady like her supposed to let such a poor boy, moreover one who could become her successor, in such a dire situation? He seems to have gotten himself in quite a lot of troubles, even more than those she has heard about from the other Leaders and information broadcast in her theatre. It’d be too cruel to let him in the open like that. She has to at least get to know him, to discover if he is her true successor.

For now, thinking of the near future has little to no point, she’s better off calling for help before the boy suffers from hypothermia in the harsh winter sunny winds of Galar. Perhaps she can give him what he doesn’t seem to have anymore…

Keep going, keep going; for there is a purpose to everyone in this world, a purpose you have yet to find for yourself, waiting for you at the end of the seemingly endless journey.

#pokemon #pokemon swsh #pokemon bede #bede swsh #sleep deprivation #light angst #bad things happen bingo #bthb 2

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

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Human Nature

Prompt: #61 + #64 for anon – “I wish I’d never met you.” + “I came to say goodbye.”

Anonymous said:

Hey. I'm the anon who requested number 61+64 alien drabble with Jeonghan. It was my first time requesting so I was wondering if you will do it. Trhank you. 😊

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: alien au / romance / angst

Warnings: none

Word count: 1640

“I came to say goodbye,” he whispered into your ear, knowing the words would only meld into your dream state and not alert you of his actual departure. The idea of you being awake and sending him off was too much to bear.

Especially if you cried.

Jeonghan’s mission to visit Earth was to gather intelligence. He had been sent to further understand why humans were unpredictable creatures, so vast in mindset and emotions. The planet from which he came from was a peaceful place, where no one questioned the unnecessary. Everyone carried out the same level of productivity each day, all working towards the greater good of their land. There was never any true shift in demeanour, unlike what they had observed from Earth. They had decided after inspecting from afar for some time that they would send multiple teams to different parts of this foreign world, to get a more in-depth grasp over why humans were the most peculiar of creatures.

To him, you had been the most unusual of them all.

You possessed no sense of gravity, you ate even when you weren’t hungry and you could laugh and cry all in one day. What had started as curiosity soon evolved into great interest. Jeonghan was certain you were a very different kind of human and one that his species would find enthralling to understand up close.

His approach in getting to know you made you experience high spikes of anxiety though.

“Is… is there something I can help you with?” you asked of him, blinking rapidly. He watched you for a moment or two, scanning your expression avidly. You were fearful of him and so to ensure he was successful, he smiled at you.

His human guise could perhaps be thought of as handsome, at least, that was what he had heard a group of women on the university campus exclaim as he walked by. Back home, he looked just like everyone else and so Jeonghan had to admit, he was a little impressed by his choice of outward appearance here on Earth.

The smile didn’t ease you at all, and Jeonghan soon realised that his appearance made you uncomfortable. Should he change it? Could you be suffering from a sense of unworthiness? He attempted to raise a gentle hand towards you but your eyes remained guarded and he dropped it, lowering his head and walking away.

For a confident alien, every time he tried to connect with you, he would become feeble in your presence. You were slowly coming out of your shell, not necessarily at ease with him, though you no longer guarded your expression either. Jeonghan was frustrated at how slow you opened up compared to all the other female humans. They would fawn over him, displaying large amounts of sexual desire and willingness to get closer to him. He wasn’t seeking that kind of connection with your kind, though it did perturb him that you didn’t act in the same manner.

“You often appear here,” you mentioned in the study hall one evening, off your own accord. A small smile pulled at your lips. “You live in the apartment complex across the road from me, right?”

So you had noticed him then. He smiled and nodded, choosing not to speak to you yet. You were doing such a good job at conversing with him already that he worried he would unsettle you if he did.

The next time he appeared in the library however, he did. And soon you would actively have conversations together, your smiles brightening the further you got to know him. Or at least, the storyline he had adopted for his human stay.

Somewhere along the lines, he had started to incorporate things that weren’t so planned into his talks with you, finding himself lying awake at night and trying to decipher where the thought came from. It felt like his own, yet he had never needed to express himself in any other way before to his fellow kind. There was no true way of expressing how one felt back home and Jeonghan slowly realised the habits of doing so on a daily basis here on Earth were rubbing off on him.

He was understanding humanity a little more as time went by.

“Why did you approach me, Jeonghan?” you asked on a walk home one night, and he glanced down at you, brows knitting together. He noticed the flush of colour to your skin, the increase of your beating heart. You were anxious over something, yet your lips curled ever so slightly, more with anticipation.

Blinking, he attempted to settle your nerves with a smile. “I wanted to know more about you.”

“Why me?” You kicked the toe of your sneaker mindlessly into the grass field you were crossing together back to your apartments. He had started worrying about you doing this trek alone late at night, and so lately he would meet you at the library, even if he hadn’t come to study.

Or well, pretend to study in his case.

You were still shy. “I mean, you could spend your time getting to know anyone else. I’m kind of clumsy and boring as a human, you know.”

He smiled, at least you knew of your faults well. “I like that you’re clumsy and boring.”

“Oh.” You were crimson now, skin boiling with foolishness. “So I’m just a friend?”

“Well, I don’t see anyone else worth spending my time with. You are my favourite,” he explained, hoping that would ease how uncomfortable you appeared.

Nodding all too fast you turned to him, stretching up just long enough to peck him on the cheek before dropping back onto your heels, rocking as you gathered your balance. Despite how stunned he felt, his hand shot out on instinct to help you remain upright, holding onto your wrist protectively. You glanced down at his hand there and smiled, possibly the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his time here.

It wasn’t in Jeonghan’s mission to fall in love. Although the concept was one his people wished to learn more about, he had not been sent here to delve so deeply into the emotion as he had with you. Over the next four months, shy moments turned passionate, to where he started to lay at your side after sessions of love-making that made him feel more human than anything else. He had blurred the lines between what type of entity he was entirely. He had no desire to report back to his homeland, no inkling to go back to a world where everyone was the same. He appreciated all your little nuances, the way you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him compared to everyone else.

You were his human and he would do anything for you.

He had hoped he wouldn’t be the cause of your pain, however. His chest hurt as he watched the tears well in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling with the pressure of holding your emotions back long enough to ask him. “You’re… you’re leaving?”

“I have to go back to my home. But I will return.”

“I thought, this was your home,” you mumbled, lowering your head. “Where are you going? Is it far away? Will I be able to come visit? Or we could do long distance-”

He shook his head sadly. “I won’t be able to be in contact while I’m away. I don’t know how long it will be either. Maybe months or a year. I’m sorry.”

“Is this your way of breaking up with me?” you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of your tears. “Was this just a game for you, make the awkward girl fall in love with the handsome guy?”

“Y/N,” he called as you looked up, seeing the barriers being built back up, one layer at a time. Jeonghan closed his eyes; he had worked too hard to get through each of them. Yet he had no choice. He had been summoned and the return flight home would be in two days. He had no idea when he would be allowed to return.

Jeonghan knew he would find a way to do just that, though. “I love you.”

Tears now streamed down from your eyes, your head shaking softly and sending them out as little shields in his direction. Pushing his confession away. “I wish I’d never met you.”

It hurt him to hear you utter such words but he could tell it troubled you even more, the way your legs gave way with the eruption of your pain. The sobs were wild and he backed away, unable to comprehend that he had shouldered you with such burden.

Jeonghan left you there, and it was the hardest thing he had ever faced.

Tonight, under the moonlight that shone through your windows proudly, uncovered by your usual heavy curtains as you had forgotten to close them, Jeonghan spent a final time at your side. You had shifted towards him out of instinct, arms slipping around his waist and your head buried into his chest. You were smiling in your dreams, perhaps in a world where he and you could be together forever. He slowly smiled himself; he craved that more than anything else.

Not this goodbye that he must endure just as much as you. Running his fingers through your hair softly, he pressed his lips to the side of your head, pulling back and let out a shaky breath. “I love you, my beautiful human.”

And with that, he climbed up and left your apartment, unseeing the tears that fell from behind closed eyes, your heart unable to reach out and stop him. Somehow knowing he had to leave for a reason that held no other option.

And hoping he would return for love.

_________________

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venii-vidii-vicii · 5 years ago

Note

Can we get a fic about Percy and Heartman's first meeting? I'm curious to know how they met. Thank you!

They met under a gay rainbow thank you for writing this ask!

Jk jk

Here's your fic, anon.

Percy hated the mountain. He hated the snow, the cold, how fucking hard it was to walk through it. Every time he closed his eyes he could feel the anger boil up inside him, at least it kept him warm, but his mind was heavy with thoughts, as it usually would be when he was so pissed off that he could feel it in his throat, making him want to collapse and vomit all over the pure white snow. But he swallowed it down and kept marching on.

He checked his cufflinks to take another look at his map, somewhere near a heart shaped lake was his next stop. He should deliver it with a punch. The porter shook his head, the cold and the anger was getting to him, it made the thoughts in his head almost unbearable, when usually he could easily make them nothing but background noise. He needed music... or something. He tapped on the discs on his ears, the sides turning a neon blue as the headphones turned on and music started playing.

After what felt like an eternity and some more, he could finally see his destination. It was what seemed like a luxurious house, actually, it had to be one of the most luxurious places in all of the UCA. Percy rolled his eyes. Great, he thought, some lonely rich snob who lives on top of a mountain.

He climbed the stairs and as he stood by the door he saw the welcoming fire on the other end, he did not hesitate to step in, almost dropping his cargo as he tried to get some warmth from the fire place, some actual heat rather than the fire inside him.

After a few moments he huffed and grumbled as he turned on the terminal to deliver his cargo. To his surprise, he wasn't greeted by someone on the other end, but rather a computer. Nice, a stuck up rich snob who wouldn't even meet him after he came all this way.

The computer seemed frozen for a moment and then came a disembodied robotic voice "administering shock, please stand clear."

Percy almost jumped. What shock?

But nothing came. He turned back to the terminal and the screen faded, only to be replaced by a chrialgram of a man, dressed in a blue suit, leather gloves that looked much like Percy's own(minus the blood) , and some strange device strapped to his chest. Percy stepped closer to take a better look at it. "AED" the letters read.

"Hello. You must be the new Porter. Excellent timing, I've just returned." The man said and Percy followed the voice with his eyes until they met the other person's. His hands suddenly numbed, unable to carry the cargo that was in his hands, and they dropped to the floor with a thud, followed by a few short beeps and red glows.

Percy's mind was unexpectedly made clear upon seeing the man's smile, the friendly look on his face, and how charm seemed to ooze from him and into a puddle that swallowed Percy whole. All the rage in his stomach, all the anger in his head, gone. The boiling in his stomach turned to a garden of butterflies, growing, threatening to break free and rip his body open. His usual stoic and cold expression was now replaced with that of awe. The man... was the most beautiful creature god has made. Percy hated himself for thinking that, but damn it if it wasn't true. It wasn't the way he looked, Percy know. But it was something more powerful than that, something almost inhuman.

"Did I die out in the cold?" He must have. Of course! It made sense now. A warm, cozy, and luxurious home, and what must be God's greatest angel? He must be dead and this is just the gate to heaven!

"I certainly hope not."

Percy shook his head, attempting to wake himself, and wake he did. He saw the cargo on the ground and immediately went to pick it up. "Shit! This is the first time I dropped them. I promise."

The man laughed and Percy could feel it straight in his heart, like little icy daggers, ripping through him, and it felt violent, it felt fucking good!

Fighting the haze, he put the cargo in the locker that popped up from the ground and signed off on his delivery.

"Thank you. Please," the man gestured to the hallway. "Come in. We should have time for some formal introductions."

Percy heard a door open somewhere in the hallway and he turned his head to look at it. To his disappointment, when he turned back, the terminal was already closed and the chrialgram of the man was no longer there.

He stepped into the hallway, looking at the decorations on the wall, made frightening with handprints that resembled the BTs own, and the glass containers that held century old fossils. Must be a collector, he thought, before finding the open door. From the outside he saw pretty much more of what was in the hallway. When he walked in, he was taken aback by the paddeed floor, the pink and blue lights, the giant sculptures of BTs and other such creatures, and a very large collection of music, books, and films.

In the middle of the room stood the man. He was even more beautiful in person, tall, lean, wires poking out of his chest from the opening of his shirt and connected to the device that was strapped onto his him... maybe it was the lighting that added to his charm, who knew. All Percy knew for sure was he held his breath as he approached him, and the closer he got, the weaker his legs became. "My name is Heartman," the man said, pausing to extend his hand. "Or so they call me." He added. Percy reached back to shake Heartman's hand but stopped midway when he noticed the stains of blood on his gloves where he had pummeled a MULE earlier. He quickly withdrew his hand and took off his glove then shook the man's hand. Luckily Heartman didn't press on the matter. Good, he didn't feel like explaining his violent tendencies to a stranger.

"Percy." He finally said when he realized he had forgotten to introduce himself.

"I see you like music, Percy." To say Percy liked music was an understatement but he nodded regardless. Heartman gestured to his shelves. "Then perhaps we can enjoy some together when you're not busy, and I'm not dead."

Percy nodded again, almost immediately. This had to be heaven! Then it hit him. "Wait what?"

"Myocardial Cordformia" Heartman said simply then moved to the shelves where he kept his music, pulling one at seemingly random and showing it to Percy. "What kind of music do you like to listen to?"

Percy followed Heartman and scanned the shelves. He recognized a few artist and didn't most the others. "Myoc-What?"

"Heart defect. You see, I have an unusual heart shape. It's quiet literally a heart shaped heart." Heartman explained and Percy tried not to get distracted by the way the man moved his hands as he did but it was almost mesmerizing. "Genre?"

"Indie," he shrugged. "Synthwave, rock, psychedelic pop. Whatever I'm in the mood to listen to, I guess." A pause then, "a heart shaped heart? That sounds pretty cool."

"Well yes, if it didn't negatively impact my life, I suppose it would be." Then, "I'm afraid I don't know much about psychedelic music, but perhaps you'll find something from the other genres here. You can listen to it till I come back."

Percy blinked, visibly confused. "Where are you going?"

"The beach. 21 minutes here, 3 minutes there. My life is split between them. You see---" well Percy was looking, that's for sure. There were a lot of big words being said that he had no fucking idea what they meant. But he loved the sound of them. Something, something, life cycle, something, something. The guy was a genius, it didnt take Percy that much brain power to figure out.

His eyes followed Heartman's hands, they never stood in one spot for too long. Too many gestures... But they were elegant in the way they moved, sophisticated, light. Something Percy's own hands can never be. There was something so pure about them, about the man as a whole, spiritually, maybe. Percy couldn't tell.

Then it stopped, and Percy woke from his trance.

"Oh" He said then cleared his throat. "Must be tough."

"It's rather easy to get accustomed to. But it becomes troublesome when it interferes with social occasions."

As if on cue, the disembodied voice spoke "5 minutes till cardiac arrest."

"Such as now. Anyway, psychedelic music, you said? I don't believe I've heard music from that genre before."

Percy grinned. "It's pretty much what the name implies, just really weird trippy music I guess. But it helps me relax"

"Sounds interesting. I'll certainly look into it. Perhaps you can send me some of your favorites? I should be registered in your contact list now."

"Oh..." Percy said softly at first then followed it with a slightly louder. "OH! Yeah! Sure!" Wanting to keep the conversation going (which was a struggle, seeing Percy wasn't really a man of many words. But the man had such a charming voice that Percy just didn't want him to shut up), he asked. "What about you?"

"Well,"

"2 minutes until cardiac arrest. Please proceed to a safe area"

"That's a question for when I return, or perhaps some other time. I understand a porter's job is never done and I don't wish to slow you down."

Right... deliveries to be made. Percy felt disappointed at that. He wanted to stay, to hear more about the man, who he was, his condition, his life. It didn't matter! He just wanted to hear him talk. He could listen to his voice for hours and hours... like music.

Heartman laid down on his chair, he looked peaceful, unafraid of what's to come. Percy wondered how long he's been living like this.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Percy"

The porter sighed. The way Heartman said his name made him fall in love with it.

Fall in love...

Oh.

Then, there was silence, short lived, as the room was filled with the sound of music, soft, calm, fitting for the departure.

The porter couldn't help but take the time to really look at the other man. Vulnerable in his state, fragile, but so calm. He resisted the urge to press his hand to the side of Heartman's face and trace the outline of it. He didn't often get to see a dead body that wasn't mutilated by him. Their final moments were always so violent, nothing like this. Nothing so peaceful and beautiful. It was breathtaking, so much so, that it made Percy's chest tighten. It hurt like a son of a bitch.

He should get out of here. It was too early for him to do something he'll regret. It was difficult but Percy detached himself from his position, and headed towards the door, and without looking back, he left. But at least he had the comfort of knowing he would end up here again and perhaps, with each visit, he could get to know the other man more and more, and maybe the man could know him as well.

Suddenly, the mountains didn't seem so bad.

#percy porter #heartman #death stranding #AU #postgame

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vaingloriosa · 6 years ago

Text

Why Don’t Snakes Have Arms?

Connor x Reader

Words: 1,768

Summary: You thought you could manage work while running a high fever and feeling absolutely miserable. You guess you are wrong. Way wrong.

Requested by: Anonymous

Author’s note: you may look at this title and think, “what the ever living fuck has angel gotten us into?” and all i can say is...you’ll see. also, anon, hope u don’t mind that i tweaked your prompt a bit (maybe a whole lot...whoops)

masterlist

“I thought I advised you to stay home.”

Behind your sunglasses, you appear to be fine though underneath your façade, you couldn’t help but feel an impending doom looming over the horizon. You wave a dismissal right hand before you sneeze into the crook of your elbow and feel the blow in your chest.

“I’m fine, really, Connor,” you manage to get that sentence out when you feel a phlegm-y cough at the back of your throat. You clear your throat and straighten out your dark coat, faking your way through this.

“You’re running a fever.”

“Typical. My body’s fighting back.”

“You haven’t taken any medication.”

“I was running late!”

Connor furrows his brows at your stubbornness. He opens the door for you as soon as you sneeze again, this time a little more harshly than before. He places a warm hand on your shoulder as the two of you walk over to the bullpen to get to work. You find your desk and plop down with the full force of your weight onto the innocent desk chair. It squeaks, slowly wheeling you away from your terminal but you allow the chair to take you wherever it pleases. Connor frowns then stifles a laugh as you begin to scramble towards the files on your desk. You’ve just become his mission: try and make you as comfortable as possible.

But that’s easier said than done.

Not even an hour in and your waste bin overflows with used tissues. At this point, you aren’t even aiming correctly because your vision has become bleary from your cold. Your body becomes a revolving door between two extremes of cold and sweltering. Even Gain, the man who makes it his side job to roast everyone in the precinct, has taken pity over you and stopped making jokes about your sick self. Connor looks over to Hank who is watching all this unfold before his very eyes. He nods over to the Captain’s office who happens to make eye contact with him. Fowler lets out a big sigh and nods in your direction.

You need to go home and rest.

“Good luck, kid,” Hank tells him as Connor grabs his coat from the back of his desk chair. Connor approaches you cautiously in order to not startle you while you write with haste on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Connor says your voice in a sweet tone, gingerly placing his hands on your shoulders and gently massaging them. Your shoulders drop immediately at the touch, careful in biting back the moans that want to escape. “I think you should go back home and rest.”

You shake your head in protest. “I’m doing just fine, honey.”

Connor squints at the police report you have in front of you. Upon closer inspection, he knows that you are not in any position to be at work.

“You wrote ‘why the fuck don’t snakes have any arms?’ then proceeded to explain your own question.” He places the paper neatly in front of you and you frown.

“It’s a valid question, don’t you think?”

Connor places his hand under your arm and begins to lift you up. You want to resist but you give in to his touch. He grabs your coat and purse then places the warm coat over your shoulders then pulls you close. As soon as you leave the precinct and into a driver-less taxi, you nearly nod off to sleep on Connor’s shoulder. You only wake when the vibrations of the road that rocked you to sleep came to a stop. You rise from the taxi and feel instant regret as blood surges to your brain too quickly and causes a minor headache. You huff and trudge up the stairs of the brownstone. The perks of living in “Old Detroit” as it was plainly dubbed meant living in a part of the industrial revolution history with a technological twist. You press your thumbprint on the scanner near the doorknob and with a tiny beep, you nearly stumble inside.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Connor offers as you shrug off your coat and give it to him. You navigate towards your bedroom and groan when you realize an obstacle.

“Ugh, why does my house have stairs!” you holler in a hoarse voice into the air and let out a frustrated groan. You grab a hold of the handrails and begrudgingly make the trek upstairs to get into your cozy pajamas.

Suddenly, euphoria takes on the shape of your bed as you flop down on your back and pull the duvet closer to you. You hear a knock on the open door and peak through the covers to see Connor standing with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other.

“You should take these.” He walks over and puts the items on the nightstand. You roll over on your side away from Connor and moan into your pillow. Your arms begin to feel like concrete, slowly sinking into the mattress.

“They taste like ass,” you say into your pillow and huff, quietly laughing to yourself. Connor simply rolls his eyes as he still tries to figure out the different colloquialisms of human beings.

“But if snakes had arms, they’d be lizards.”

Connor tilts his head at how out of the blue your sentence is. He says your name in the form of a question but it seems like you can’t hear him.

“That reminds me of this one time my family went to the zoo...hold on-” You shakily stand up and press your back against your headboard to act as support. Connor’s initial reaction is to reach for you and his eyes are full of concern.

“Since when did I get up here?”

Connor shakes his head. “You don’t remember?”

You didn’t. From all you can remember, you had been in the taxi and somehow ended up here. Your fever had taken over and put your entire body on autopilot for the time being. You start to slink back down underneath the duvet as you feel the world beginning to spin once again. You spot the medication then think that maybe this can help and drink the medication down the hatch. You suck on your teeth at the bitter aftertaste and close your eyes as the water burns while it travels down your scratchy throat.

Connor begins a scan and concludes you are suffering from delirium due to your high fever. He starts to speak up until he’s soon hit with a message from the D.P.D. Connor’s eyes begin to flutter as he gathers the information, LED turning a curious yellow then readjusts his vision. Another homicide case that requires his assistance.

He feels awful in leaving you in the state that you’re in. Connor begins to reason to himself that perhaps you will give into the pull of sleep and knock out like a light for several hours while he’s gone. Then again, you can be quite unpredictable.

“I just received a case. I’m sorry to leave you but I have to go. I will be back, I promise.” Connor bends down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he begins to leave, you grab a hold of his wrist to prevent him from walking any further.

“Connor, please, stay...at least...until I go to sleep,” you plead with him. You don’t understand why you begin to cry but you don’t fight the tears that drop along your cheek. “I don’t want you to go. Please.”

Connor melts at your request and can’t find the heart to tell you no. Captain Fowler would understand the reasoning for his absence, hopefully. He sits back down next to you and runs his hands over your hair to soothe you. He learned that you enjoyed this one time when you two had been watching a film here and you laid your head on his lap. It felt like an instinct to reach over and play with your hair and you gave him the green light.

You hum in content at the feeling. Your fingers find Connor’s free hand and you brush the pads on your fingers over the top. “Can you do that thing where you make your skin disappear? It’s fascinating.”

After escaping from his programming, Connor suddenly felt like a fish out of water. For the first time, he had experienced entirely new emotions completely foreign to him. Being an android made for obstacles but you two embraced them together head on. You had asked him one day to show who he really was underneath the synthetic skin and as much as that request made him question if you would still see love him, he showed you his true self. Connor remembers the smile that crossed your lips and how you captured his lips into yours, telling him how much you love him. This is a part of him and you will love him unconditionally and would work through this insecurity together.

Connor finally felt like he belonged.

Now, showing his true self doesn’t bother him and makes for a fun party trick. The synthetic skin disappears in the blink of an eye and you let out a small gasp. In your fever state, everything captures your attention and this is no different. It feels like you are witnessing this transformation for the first time. You marvel at the intricacies of each joint and how seamless each line is. Connor moves his arm for you to see his palm, rewarding him a second gasp that nearly makes him laugh. You touch the palm of his hand and trace shapes along the smooth surface.

“I love having an android boyfriend. I love you, Connor, you know that? Hope you do.”

Connor takes your hand into his and kisses the top of your hand. “I love you, too.”

You wave your other hand to try and dry the new tears that fall from your face. You use the heel of your hand to dab underneath your eyes. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t deserve you.”

He can detect the sleepiness in your tone as the cold medicine begins to kick in. You nestle your head deeper into the pillow all the while you hold onto Connor’s hand. You can feel your eyelids become heavy because of sleep but you try to fight it to feel the warmth of your boyfriend. Before you succumb to the much needed rest your body needs, you hear his calming voice.

“Goodnight. I’ll be here if you need me, love.”

Tagging: @kwaiky, @rebelfinn, @chrisevansthedoritobastard, @black-widow-fangirl, @connorshero, @yonaih

#angel writes #connor x reader #connor #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh connor #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human imagine #why don't snakes have arms?#@ connor damb he gets on my mf uwus!!

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eledritch · 6 years ago

Note

Prompt: Sheith, meeting of the two tree creatures (desert willow and birch art AU u reblogged)

bless you anon. i love that concept sm...especially since desert willows are native to my home state/desert! they’re pretty & tough trees, very keith. & white birches fit shiro so very well, too.

CHECK OUT THIS ART by the amazing @nevenne-creates, it’s so original and lovely :’)

(this is SFW. they are wholesome trees.)

Follower Milestone Prompt #2: shiro & keith are trees

read it on ao3

Beside his oasis, the world is still and serene, the hot summer wind ruffling through his leaves and limbs like a familiar caress. The monsoons have been generous this year, and Keith is in full bloom, dark pink flowers crowning his head and continuing just below his pointed ears. His thick, dark bark was made to withstand this heat; though many willows are frail things dependent on the water, Keith is an exception, a desert willow. He is not even a true willow, though his slender, spear-shaped leaves are good imitators.

He’s distracted by a soft whir of wings beside his ear, and turns his head slightly to see the ruby-throated hummingbird sipping from his blooms. Hello, he says, though of course only other tree spirits can hear him. The hummingbird hovers for a few moments in front of his face, cocking its emerald head at Keith’s amused violet eyes, then darts away as quickly as it had come.

He follows its path across the desert, and pauses, squinting into the distance through the rippling heat waves and tall saguaros. There’s something out there that wasn’t there before; Keith is sure of it. It moves again, and he starts forward, sending ripples through the oasis’s dark water. There, a hint of white and gold. Keith frowns. Hello? he calls, but it’s too far away to hear him, if it’s even able to do so.

Cautiously, Keith gathers up some water with his roots, avoiding the spadefoot tadpoles swimming nearby, and begins his slow trek towards the bright smudge amidst the sagebrush and red dust. He’s faster than most trees, but one must still be careful in the desert. A rattlesnake winds past him through the warm rocks, hissing in soft warning. Keith gives it a wide berth, and at length passes by one of his closest neighbors, a young palo verde named Pidge.

She peeks at him through her tiny oval leaves and pollen-laden yellow flowers, hazel eyes curious. Her pale green bark glows with health; Keith lets her drink from his oasis when the rains don’t come.

What’s out there? Keith asks her, pointing with a smooth brown finger.

She shakes her head, prompting a shower of pollen that makes Keith sneeze. Her expression is frightened. Strange spirits, she whispers. Not trees. Shadows. Left him here last night. I hid.

Him? Keith questions, glancing again towards the unmoving heap of white and gold.

Pidge nods. Be careful, she warns. Tried to call out to him earlier; he pushed me out of his mind. He is scared. So scared. He is not from here.

Then he will die in this sun, Keith says. Stay here. I will help him.

She nods, hiding again amidst her thorny branches.

Keith continues onwards, warding off a hopeful swarm of bees along the way, though he’s flattered by their interest. He pauses once he is close, crouching behind a large boulder and peeking around the side to assess the situation.

Keith freezes at the sight before him – the strange tree spirit is crumpled in the dirt, his skin pale as moonlight, but torn away in places, revealing darker bark beneath. His leaves are a magnificent gold, like the first hint of sunlight over the horizon at dawn, but they must have been cut away in places, for they grow only sparsely at the top of his head and in a small fall over his brow. His ears droop, and his dark golden eyes are half-lidded and hazy. The bark over the bridge of his nose has been torn away in a thick stripe of scar tissue, so deep it cuts into his sapwood.

But most shocking of all is that one of his arms has been chopped clean off, the wound coated with drying silvery sap – it must have been recently inflicted. Keith’s branches rustle uneasily. What cruel being would do this to a tree spirit? Especially to one as lovely as this?

Keith has never seen a tree spirit like this one before, and he is wary of hidden thorns or poisons, so he steps out of his hiding place warily, hands extended in a gesture of goodwill. The stranger flinches away when their gazes meet, trying to lift himself up on his remaining arm and trembling with the effort, his clawed hand scrabbling uselessly in the dirt, tearing more of his fragile white outer bark away.

Stop! Keith exclaims in alarm, starting forward. You’ll hurt yourself!

The stranger stares at him dully, chest heaving, legs and roots tucked close to his body in a way that only makes him appear more vulnerable. He feels the stranger trying to shut Keith out of his head, but Keith nudges back, gentle yet firm. The stranger’s golden head bows in surrender, shoulders hunching and body curling back down to the earth. A single word echoes through Keith’s head: Please.

Keith kneels down in front of the stranger. It is alright, he soothes, letting his soft leaves brush against the ruined bark. I am here to help.

Golden eyes meet his gaze hesitantly. Help? The stranger’s voice shakes badly, like he has forgotten how to use it.

Keith nods. It is too hot for you out here, he explains. You need water, and shade.

The stranger lowers his head, silent again, but does not protest when Keith heaves him upright, trunk straining at the effort. The stranger may look delicate, but he must be an old tree, for he is solid and heavy, and would not have survived so long in the desert sun if he were a weak sapling.

Keith falters when the stranger’s head slumps into his shoulder, rustling against his leaves and crushing a few flowers. In the desert, tree spirits are far more solitary; Keith is hardly ever so close to another of his kind. This spirit must be from a forest, he concludes, a place where tree spirits live together in tight-knit families. Keith shoves his foolish pang of longing aside, and wraps his arm around the stranger’s trunk, guiding him back to the oasis.

He staggers forward as Keith guides him, shriveled roots dragging uselessly along the ground behind him. His thin, papery bark rustles and crumples off where Keith’s rougher bark brushes against it, but it doesn’t appear to harm the stranger. Or perhaps he is just so hurt already that he is numb to the additional pain. Keith frowns, and presses onward with newfound determination.

Halfway to Pidge, the stranger crumples forwards, and Keith has to employ all his branches to catch him, guiding him gently down before he can break any more limbs off. Easy, Keith cautions, kneeling beside him with a hand on his uninjured shoulder. It isn’t far.

Who are you? the stranger rasps, his tone pleading.

My name is Keith; I am a desert willow, Keith tells him. Who are you?

His brow furrows. Shiro, he whispers. White birch.

Ah, Keith says. He thinks he’s heard of those trees before, but they live far, far away from the desert. You are from the highlands? Shiro nods, his eyelids drooping, and Keith leans closer in concern. Here, he adds, and lifts a root heavy with stored water to Shiro’s dry lips.

The birch opens his eyes, confusion shifting to shock as he sees the precious droplets offered to him. How…?

Drink, Keith says. There is more, do not worry. You need it more than I.

So Shiro drinks, his own roots lifting to catch the moisture his tongue cannot. He is not meant to store water for many months on end like Keith can, but his leaves perk up at once, and his eyes are clearer than before when they open again. Thank you, he says, and goes easily when Keith helps him up again.

Shiro blinks curiously at Pidge as they pass, and the palo verde gives them a shy wave before retreating inwards again. Shiro wilts. I scare her, he mumbles. I think she tried to call to me, before...but I shoved her away.

Shh, Keith says, leading him on past a towering saguaro, which the birch stares at with unadulterated awe. You have been through much. She understands.

Are these trees? Shiro asks, still gaping at the saguaros. The tall cacti are blooming, too, but during the heat of the day most their flowers are tightly shut. A few brave blooms remain, as bright white and gold as Shiro.

No, Keith says. They do not speak to us, not with words. Feelings, sometimes. They tell us when the rains are near.

Oh, Shiro breathes, and looks down. They must be very old.

Yes, Keith says. It can take a century before they grow a single arm.

The saguaro Shiro was admiring has six arms, and the birch blanches, eyes huge. I...see.

They continue on, and Keith can feel Shiro’s eyes on him. How old are you, willow?

Keith frowns. You would think me young, but my kind do not live long.

Shiro frowns back. My kind do not live long, either. Try me.

It has been fifty years, Keith sighs, at last count.

And how long do desert willows live?

Fifty years, Keith says dryly. Usually.

Shiro stumbles. Keith helps him back up. So young, Shiro whispers.

This is a harsh place to live, Keith says. I am lucky to have my oasis. It may keep me alive for fifty years more.

How does anyone survive here? Shiro asks, and Keith bristles. It is just – so barren. And vast. And lonely...I was sure I would die.

Whoever left you here thought the same, Keith says, and Shiro stiffens, and is quiet again.

They pass under the slender shadow of a saguaro with two arms, and Shiro says, I am seventy, at last count. About halfway through life, also. But I could be older...I feel older. There are gaps in my memory.

Why did they hurt you? Keith asks.

Shiro only shakes his head.

Keith’s oasis comes into view and the birch sighs in relief. Is it real? he whispers. Not just a desert mirage? He eyes Keith. Are you a desert mirage?

Willow, Keith corrects with a snort, leading him to the muddy bank. And, no. Both me and my oasis are quite real. Lucky for you.

Very lucky, Shiro whispers, falling to his knees before the shallow water. Still, he pauses, looking to Keith for permission. May I?

Keith sits down beside him, amused and more than a little endeared. Be my guest.

Shiro’s roots burrow contentedly into the mud, searching out the fresh water, and Shiro bows his head as its strength flows through him. Keith stands over him while he does, extending his branches and leaves to provide the birch with as much shade as he can, and Shiro looks up with wide eyes.

Keith jolts in surprise at the flush on the birch’s cheeks, and a pink flower falls from Keith’s head to land squarely on the birch’s nose. Shiro looks at it, cross-eyed, then plucks it from his face and studies the trumpet-shaped blossom. Pretty, he says, and Keith flushes, too. Thanks for the shade, Shiro adds, and tucks Keith’s flower behind his ear.

Keith stares at him helplessly. You are a very strange tree, he says.

So are you, Shiro chuckles. Keith wants to make him laugh more. But a kind one, too.

Keith clears his throat. Is the water to your liking?

Yes, it’s perfect, Shiro says. He leans forward. Oh! There are little...fish in here.

Tadpoles, Keith corrects. A few fish, too. Trout come when the rains connect my oasis to the creek. And then, because he feels the need to defend his desert, he adds, This place may seem barren to outsiders, but it is full of life. Many creatures come to my oasis. Javelinas, with sharp tusks and pink snouts, and coyotes, with fur the color of sand, and bighorn sheep, with great curved horns, and tortoises, with their domed shells, and bobcats, with bright eyes and dark spots, and quail, with their soft calls and feathers, and ringtails, with their striped tails and spectacled eyes, and mountain lions, who drink beside me in the early hours of the morning, and sleep in my shade without fear.

Shiro stares up at him with wonder.

Keith, embarrassed, turns away. I apologize, he says. I do not meet new trees often. You must meet many, in your forest.

Shiro settles into a more comfortable sitting position. Birches grow together, in stands of hundreds, he says. There were many like me, yes. But none like you.

Oh, Keith says. He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

I know very little about the desert, Shiro says earnestly. The water has invigorated him, and Keith can see his wounded stump scabbing over with fresh black bark. But I have heard the sunsets are beautiful.

They are, Keith says, and sits down shyly beside him, taking care to keep his shade cast over Shiro’s pale form. Would...would you like to watch the sunset with me?

I would, Shiro says. May I rest here with you, until then?

Keith leans into him in reply, their leaves mingling, and Shiro sighs as he drifts off.

The oasis is quiet as they wait in stillness, the cool oasis staving off the heat of late afternoon. By the time the scattered clouds begin to stain pink, Shiro’s bark is healed and his eyes are warm, reflecting the sun. It’s beginning, he whispers in excitement.

Yes, Keith says. Shiro’s branches are entwined with his own, and he never wants to let go.

The sky darkens and streaks through with orange and red and pink and faded blue, the rays of sunshine blinding them for a moment before it kisses the ridged line of the distant mountains, painting the world in rich golden tones. Keith has seen thousands of sunsets, but he has never seen Shiro see a sunset, so he watches him instead.

The birch appears to glow in the dying light, his lips parted and eyes wide. It’s beautiful, he says wistfully. We could barely see the sky in the forest. Not like this. There’s...so much.

Wait until you see the stars, Keith murmurs.

Shiro smiles shyly at him. May I stay to see the dawn, too?

As many dawns as you’d like, Keith promises.

Shiro sighs, and Keith’s lashes flutter when a golden leaf brushes against his cheek. As long as I get to see them with you, Shiro whispers, and reaches out, laying his hand gently over Keith’s.

Their fingers clasp, silver-white and red-brown, and the sun sinks slowly below the horizon.

#sheith #voltron #voltron fic #crack au #prompt fill #my fics #THEY R TREES AND THEY R IN LOVE....#Anonymous

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elizatellsthestory · 7 years ago

Text

Strangled By Fate

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: KakaSaku

Rating: Gen

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Summary: In a world where soulmate marks only reveal themselves to you when you’re ready for them, Kakashi decides it’s better to resist rather than risk ruining another life. He has spent so long believing he can’t have one, that he almost misses her completely.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of characters. I am making no profit off of this and am only writing it for my entertainment.

A/N: Well guys, I’m officially part of the fandom because I got a comment on my last story telling me to kill myself. Rather than let this bother me, I decided to put out my next submission for KakaSaku month even quicker, and I added extra fluff to the end just for the rude anon. Enjoy guys.

Unbeta-ed.

[ao3] [fanfic]

There had been so many times that Kakashi had felt strangled by the red string that was meant to determine his soulmate. For most of his life, he’d never been able to see it, but he could always feel it’s heavy presence wrapping around his skin in warning. He felt the way it pulled and tangled against his every movement with every step, punishing him for all his failures.

For so many, it came easily, leading two soulmates to the other with little fuss. Kurenai and Asuma had found each other even before they left the academy. It had only taken Hayate and Yugao a few training sessions together to realize what they were to each other. Hell, even Gai had eventually found his soulmate in his enthusiastic student, Lee. The boy was like the son Gai had never had, but Kakashi had never had his string appear.

Despite being told “It will appear if you just open yourself to it,” or “Maybe you’re just not ready to find your One yet,” Kakashi never minded being alone. Being alone was safe. Being alone meant he’d never have to lose anyone again.

Sometimes when he laid awake in bed at night, his mind replayed all the mistakes he’d made, showed him all the people he’d lost in a crisp precision only the sharingan could afford, and he’d feel the string tighten around him. It was paralyzing. He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it all. Even years after the fact, sometimes he could feel the phantom blood dripping from his red eye or Rin’s life-force draining away around the hand he’d pierced through her.

The truth was, he didn’t deserve a soulmate. No one deserved to be saddled with him, and those fears were only confirmed when he failed to care for each and everyone of his genin students. They’d all seen he was useless to them despite his best efforts and moved on to better teachers.

Sometimes the invisible strings felt like a sticky web. They clung to him and slowed him, holding him in place when all he wanted to do was desperately escape. Other times, they encircled him like vices and pulled him down, down, down into an abyss of his own making. Sometimes they were so tight, the dug into his skin. They felt so tangible, it seemed like a miracle no one else could see him caught up in them.

He lived that way for so many years, and then one day after the war, after Obito’s return and after his true death, they loosened. It happened slowly at first. It was the barest release of tension, but he felt it. Even that small slack felt like the biggest relief after years of it cutting into him. Slowly the red string didn’t feel like such a burden. Slowly, he began to understand just why people might be so overjoyed to have someone by their side when he had only seen the bond as a liability before. As he stood looking over Naruto’s wedding reception, he couldn’t help but feel lighter than he had in a long time.

“It’s wild to think Naruto’s life has finally settled down long enough for him to find his soulmate, huh?” Sakura’s voice drifted over from behind him as he kept his eyes trained on the couple. Even from the distance, Kakashi could make out the little red lines representing the strings imprinted on their fingers. Though only the soulmates could see their individual string, he could imagine the way it linked the two, hanging lightly in the air the way it was meant to.

“No one deserves happiness more than he does,” Kakashi’s eyes crinkled as he smiled softly beneath the mask. “He’s grown up a lot. Hinata and he will be very happy together.”

Sakura moved to stand next to him and watched the happy pair chatting animatedly with Kiba. “He’s not the same knucklehead ninja he was when he was twelve. That’s for sure,” she laughed lightly, her fingers subconsciously moving over the smooth red mark that wrapped around her own finger but led to nowhere.

Kakashi’s charcoal eyes turned to the pink-haired woman next to him, not missing the longing look in her emerald eyes. “And what about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Your life has settled too, and that mark has been there ever since the war ended.” His eyes shifted from the thin mark to her eyes. “Aren’t you curious? Or…” Did she already know who it led to? His thoughts flitted to the goodbye she’d shared with Sasuke when he’d left the village. Perhaps she’d gotten the fairy tale ending twelve year old her had longed for after all.

“You know, it’s funny. Once upon a time, I might have been searching frantically for whoever is on the other end of this mark.” She held up her hand and turned it in the sunlight, examining the little thing that was supposed to be the key to her happy ending. “But, I just figure there are more important things right now. What about you?”

“What about me?” He deflected like it was second nature. He really should have known better than trying his old tricks with Sakura.

“You know very well what I’m asking,” she gave him a reproachful look that walked the fine line between teasing and seriousness. “You’ve been alone a long time, Kakashi Sensei.”

“Kakashi. Just Kakashi. We’ve been comrades far longer than I was ever you Sensei.”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

Kakashi would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly amused by how easily she saw through his evasion tactics now. “The truth? My mark’s never appeared.”

Sakura’s brow furrowed in concern, and her gaze moved to where his mark would be if his hand weren’t hidden behind a glove and buried in his pocket. “Doesn’t not knowing bother you?”

“Not any more than it’s bothering you,” he shrugged before his eyes were drawn to the loud commotion Naruto and Rock Lee were making by the food table. It wasn’t long before shouts about the Spirit of Youth distracted them from any more talk of soulmates or marks.

…

Life went on.

It wasn’t hard for Kakashi to become caught up in his new duties as Hokage. The slow release of the strings’ hold on him was something he barely noticed anymore. With every string that fell away came a new feeling of freedom, and soon enough he could barely feel them at all. As much as he thought he’d hate the position of Hokakge, there was something oddly fulfilling about it. For the first time, he experienced a peace he and the ninja world alike had never known. For the first time, people looked up to him, and it didn’t instill a sense of self-loathing within him.

Oddly enough, out of the three remaining members of Team Seven, it was the person he’d offered the least guidance to that offered him the most. Sasuke chose to continue to working for Konoha from afar, and when Naruto wasn’t preparing for his future seat as Hokage, he was at home caring for a pregnant Hinata. In the years following the war, it was Sakura who became his constant friend and companion, no matter how busy she was running the hospital or her children’s clinic.

It wasn’t such a rare occurrence for him to find himself slumped over his desk, having fallen asleep after a long day of work. Some mornings he’d wake with dried ink from important papers clinging to his face, but more often than not, he’d be awoken late at night by the smell of tea and take out accompanied by a dazzling smile and warm emerald eyes.

Tonight was one such night.

He’d only meant to close his eyes for five minutes, but when they opened again, night had fallen and a soft laugher stirred him.

“Keep this up, and I’ll have to put you on bedrest, Kakashi. Believe it or not, the human body needs proper sleep or it can’t function properly.”

“Maa, Sakura,” He blinked sleepily and slowly lifted his head from his desk. “I’ve got everything under control. I know my limits.” He ignored the rustling of paper by his ear even though he knew very well that something was stuck to his temple.

Sakura merely rolled her eyes when she was met with his signature everything-is-fine eye crinkle and moved around to his side of the desk. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Remind me, how many times have you been admitted to the hospital for extreme exhaustion over the course of your career?” She hopped up to sit on his desk and pulled the note paper off of his temple. Faint traces of dried ink remained pressed to his skin.

“That’s hardly fair. I was a victim of a dojutsu my body wasn’t equipped to handle,” he argued halfheartedly more out of habit than trying to prove his point.

“Mhmm.” The disbelief was so clear in her voice he could practically hear the deadpanned “bullshit” in her subtext. Still, he was a good patient and held still when she held his chin and tilted his head to better see the ink on his skin.

Before it had been so hard for him to foresee being alright with anyone being this familiar with him, but with Sakura it felt right. He didn’t feel any sort of discomfort around her. Instead of hating the touch and care, there was a part of him that ached for it. And yet, he knew he shouldn’t. Even if it was only because he knew the mark on her finger proved there was someone out there waiting for her, someone out there who was perfect for her, he knew he shouldn’t. It wasn’t fair to confuse her just because he’d long ago given up his hope of ever finding his One.

She was so close now, he could feel her warm breath brush against the exposed skin of his face, and any sleep that had clouded his mind was now gone. He could clearly make out the flecks of deeper and lighter greens in her eyes and the little furrow of her brow as she focused on the ink. Her tongue darted out to lick her finger so she could wipe away the black that stained his skin, but all he could focus on were the lips that had pulled his attention.

He could just make out the light sheen of a gloss or balm she’d used not too long ago. Her thumb lightly skimmed over his temple, leaving what felt like a trail of molten lava in it’s wake, and before he knew what was happening, his traitor hand moved to loosely encircle the wrist of the hand that held his chin, keeping them connected.

He’d heard stories of what love and attraction were supposed to be. Butterflies in the stomach and a heart hammering against the chest, but right now, he felt perfectly at peace. Time seemed to slow, and if he could stay in that moment forever, he’d be perfectly happy to do it.

He was so caught up, that he hardly felt when she finished cleaning him. He completely missed the way her darkened eyes skimmed his face or how her free hand came to rest against his cheek. He was so, completely wrapped up in her that he didn’t snap out of it until her voice pulled him from his trance.

“Kakashi.” It came as a whisper on a breath of air, but it snapped his attention back to the present. His eyes jerked up to meet hers which were fixed firmly on his face. A light blush graced across her skin.

He’d been caught.

A sinking feeling spread through him, and immediately, he dropped his hand from hers. “I’m sorry.”

He would have pulled away, but her touch kept him close like an inescapable gravity. Her entire being held him spellbound. He was at a loss. He was frozen as she scooted over on his desk to place herself more fully in front of him. Frozen, as her hands moved to deftly untie his hitai-ate from where it sat on his forehead and placed it on the desk beside her. Frozen, as she leaned forward to lightly brush her lips over the hair that now spilled lightly over his forehead.

It was only as her lips moved to brush against his temple that he finally found his voice. “Sakura…” Her name came out more unsure than he’d meant it to. As much as he’d love to give in, he couldn’t ignore the mark that promised her to some other man.

At his voice, she pulled back slowly, just enough to look at him, but her hands remained where they’d fallen at his shoulders. He’d never been as hyperaware of a touch as he was now. He wanted nothing more than to let her keep caressing him. He wanted nothing more than for her mark to lead to him, but-

“Kakashi.” Again, her familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. “It’s alright.”

For a moment, his dark eyes searched her clear gaze. He scoured it for even the tiniest trace of hesitance. Even as she leaned closer, letting her lips hover just out of reach of his masked ones, he searched. He had to be absolutely sure. She had to be absolutely sure, and she was. There wasn’t a single trace of doubt in her expressive eyes.

At that moment, he let himself fall.

It was a gentle, timid kiss, more on his side than hers. He was testing the waters, worried she might change her mind, but as she relaxed into him, he gained confidence. Slowly, he began to press back. Somewhere along the way, he slipped his mask down his face, and it was just the two of them, flesh on flesh, meeting her desire with his own.

And then he felt it.

The last string falling away.

A warm glow encircling his pinky finger.

At the same time, both pulled away and were left to stare in awe at the thin red string that led from Sakura’s pinky and disappeared underneath Kakashi’s glove. For a moment, all the pair could do was stare at it, and then, as though some spell were broken, both were scrambling to rid Kakashi of the offending glove that was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After what seemed like too long for the both of them, his hand was bare except for the little intangible string that only they could see linking the two together. A wave of euphoria washed over the two. Gleeful laughter sprang from Sakura’s lips as her head fell forward and leaned against Kakashi’s. Meanwhile, he could do nothing but sit dumbstruck with a giddy smile that betrayed his every emotion without the mask in place.

“I wanted it to be you so badly,” Sakura admitted quietly in a reverent whisper as though speaking too loudly might make the little string disappear into oblivion. Their connected hands laced, holding each other firmly, not wanting to let go.

Was this what it felt like? Was this how everyone else felt when they found their One? It wasn’t at all like he’d expected. It wasn’t the feeling of completion, of having a missing piece that has suddenly been found. It was better than that. It was having more. Having a piece that complemented rather than completed him. Finally, he understood.

“What’s wrong?” Sakura frowned when she glanced back up at him only to find watery eyes.

“Nothing,” Kakashi shook his head. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Nothing at all. I’m just happy.”

#kakasaku #kakasakumonth #kakasaku fic #kakasaku fanfiction #soulmate au #fanfic #yes I will completely write out of spite if I have the time #if I had been in the mood it probably would have turned into smut just for sheer spite

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