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arvandus · 6 months ago

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FICS FOR GAZA

Hello everyone, I've decided to join the @ficsforgaza fundraiser. I've had a couple people express interest, and I think that every little bit helps. I will be offering WIP donations as well as drabble requests.

Donations are to be submitted to a vetted fundraiser. Do NOT send donations directly to me or to @ficsforgaza. Once you have completed the donation, send me a private screenshot of proof of the donation. Once I receive proof, I will update my WIP and request list and begin writing!

If you have any questions about the donation process, please view the pinned post for @ficsforgaza. If you have questions about the WIPs or requests, please reach out to me.

Total funds raised (after dollar conversions) : $73.29 USD

REQUESTS

$2 donation = 100 words

1k word maximum ($20 donation)

Send me a character/characters and a dialogue prompt, trope, or just an overall idea that's been plaguing your brain lately and I'll write a short drabble/ficlet for you!

Fandoms I will write for: BNHA, Obey Me!, Wind Breaker, JJK, Haikyuu, Blue Lock, Black Butler, AOT, Bleach, Tokyo Revengers, Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters I will write for: Any! Bring it on, I love a challenge.

Will write: x reader (any gender), character ships, OCs, aged-up characters; SFW/NSFW, dark content (noncon/dubcon, yandere, etc). NSFW & dark content requests must provide proof of being 18 or older (request made off anon with age indicator in your tumblr bio). Note: If you want to make a NSFW/dark content request but remain publicly anonymous, send me a private message OR the same request off anon so I can verify. I will respond to your request using only the anon submission once you're verified.

Will not write: pedophilia; NSFW minors (even if no adult character is involved); anything involving bodily fluids that aren't saliva, tears, or blood; eggs, oviposition; a/b/o. If you're unsure about your request, you can message me privately and I'll be happy to answer, no judgment. :)

REQUESTS COMPLETED:

The Art of Looking (Haruka Sakura x f!OC)

REQUESTS PENDING:

Picture Perfect (Haruka Sakura x f!OC)

Sponsored WC: 0/7,604

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hayatoseyepatch · 2 months ago

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𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖜𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊! Welcome to hayatoseyepatch's very first Kinktober. As this is my first time attempting to tackle kinktober I decided to spice it up a bit and bring you Sam's 13 Nights of Halloween. I will be doing thirteen prompts leading up to October 31st these will be a mixture of drabbles and full-length fics. It will be mostly Wind Breaker-centric with some other fandoms sprinkled in. Please Note: any of the prompts below may be subject to change (very unlikely but just a heads up).

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙: As this is kinktober a very heavy minors do not interact is in play, the writing below can and will feature dark content. Any and all posts containing dark content will be marked with a '⚠︎' symbol. Reader's discretion is advised. All fics as always will contain content warnings in their description and so please be mindful of the tags. Should you like to be tagged in any and all fics please either comment or shoot me a dm/ask! Thank you, I hope you enjoy what I have in store, and remember 𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌.

𓉸༻ Zayne x Reader (L&DS) October 7th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Pussy Inspection. Description: Zayne could not contain the possessive need to keep you all to himself, to not let anyone see the most private parts of your being. So if he had to convince you to let him perform your routine gynecological exam, then so be it.

𓉸༻ Suo X Reader. (WBK) October 9th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Shibari. Description: Hayato believed himself to be a patient man, a patient lover, one that satisfied any and all of your needs. But upon returning home it seems he might just have to bind those pretty wrists for you to teach you how to keep your hands to yourself in his absence.

𓉸༻ Hoshina x Reader (KN8) October 11th

⤜☠︎→ Thigh Riding/Impact Play. Description: Soshiro Hoshina was hard to rile up, but after seeing a certain captain flirting with his girl, it seemed he needed to take matters into his own hands. Maybe he needed to remind you that he was the only one to bring you pleasure, in any shape or form.

𓉸༻ Luke x Reader x Kieran (L&DS) October 13th

⤜☠︎→ Sensory Deprivation. Description: It started off simple enough, a little wager that you'd be able to tell the twins apart no matter the situation. You were blindly confident in your abilities, however, you never imagined you'd have to be able to tell which brother was pleasuring which part of your body.

𓉸༻ Kaiju!Kafka x Reader (KN8) October 15th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Monster Fucking. Description: There was always something about seeing Kafka transformed, something that piqued your interest. Maybe it was the glow in his eyes or the sharpness of his claws, all you knew is you wanted to take his Kaiju form for a ride.

𓉸༻ Wolf Hybrid!Sakura x Bunny Hybrid!Reader (WBK) October 17th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Hybrid/Breeding. Description: Endo loved how easy it was to fluster you. But if he loved anything more it was how easy to rile Sakura up. And now he'll do anything he can to show Endo just who you belong to.

𓉸༻ Incubus!Endo x Reader (WBK) October 19th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Corruption. (Collab) Description: You werent sure how your friends had managed to talk you into this. Never did you think you'd spend your evening doing some dumb ritual they saw online, and you cetainly never thiught it would work. Yet here you were eyes locked with the cold blue eyes that stared at you from the foot of your bed.

𓉸༻ Narumi x Reader Ft. Hoshina (KN8) October 21st ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Exhibitionism/Filming. Description: Narumi was a very possessive man, so when he sees you and Hoshina getting along a bit too well, he decides to show you both just who it is you go home to every night.

𓉸༻ Soshiro x Reader x Soichiro Hoshina (KN8) October 23rd

⤜☠︎→ Spit Roasting. Description: The Hoshina brothers have always been in competition with one another. But when Soichiro finally pushes his brother too far what'll happen when they have something entirely new to compete over.

𓉸༻ Ghostface!Karasu x Reader (BLLK) October 25th

⤜☠︎→ Hunter/Prey. Description: Karasu thought you needed to stop spending so much time online, especially after you let your doom-scrolling lead you to ask him to fuck you in a Ghostface mask. But hey, what was he if not an accommodating partner, he did so love it when you screamed.

𓉸༻ Vampire!Umemiya x Reader (WBK) October 27th ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Somnophilia/Blood. Description: Hajime couldn't help it, not with how cute you looked so fast asleep next to him. Not with the way your smell overwhelmed his senses. After all, one taste couldn't hurt, could it?

𓉸༻ Sakura x Reader Ft. Yamato Endo (WBK) October 29th

⤜☠︎→ Vouyerism. Description: One of Endo's favorite pastimes is flustering Sakura and his cute little girlfriend, but what he hears when going to find you both winds up with him being flustered instead.

𓉸༻ Ghostface!Bachira x Reader (BLLK) October 31st ⚠︎

⤜☠︎→ Mask Kink/Knife Play. (Collab) Description: You swore grief followed you like a cloud. Losing those who you loved at every turn, but there was one positive at least you had Bachira to turn to for comfort. But you were soon to find out the mysterious deaths surrounding you werent such a mystery afterall.

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight & @/cafekitsune. Banners & writing by me.

#sam writes #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #wind breaker smut #jjk smut #tokrev smut #l&ds smut

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stunie · 2 months ago

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౨ৎ 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜 — welcome to evie’s 1st kinktober! there’ll be 11 prompts this year. wind breaker centric . . nine drabbles & two longer fics !! plus two bonus sfw drabbles sprinkled in there. everything already has at least a rough draft. and of course, as a gentle reminder. . . you must be 18+ and have an age on your blog to interact with me.

૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა this only contains wind breaker— excluding one undecided prompt. please vote for the fandom you’d like to see for it here! & to sign up for my tag list, either comment on this post or fill out this form. fill out the form if you only want to be tagged in a few works, and comment if you’d like to be tagged in everything. please heed any and all warnings below! thank youu !! <33 reblogs r appreciated!

OCTOBER 1 — PET PLAY

KIRYU MITSUKI X F!READER ﾉ 1328 words ﾉ in which kiryu dresses you up as a cat- so make sure you commit to it and act like one! he’ll reward you nicely. he always does.

OCTOBER 3 — CUCKOLDING

HAYATO SUO X F!READER ﾉ 1031 words ﾉ FICS4GAZA ﾉ sakura doesn’t think he’s ever held his phone in his non-dominant hand until tonight.

OCTOBER 5 — MASK KINK

ENDO YAMATO X F!READER ﾉ 1130 words ﾉ endo thought you were joking about masks being hot, but . . . if you really like them so much, then maybe he’ll put on a show just for you.

OCTOBER 7 — SUCCUBUS?!

SAKURA HARUKA X SUCCUBUS!F!READER ﾉ 1011 words ﾉ there’s no better way to lose your virginity than to a succubus, right? do those even exist? he was skeptical before he met you.

OCTOBER 11 — OVERSTIMULATION

KAJI REN X F!READER ﾉ 1093 words ﾉ does flavored lube taste good? he hopes it does. it’s the reason why he bought a entire pack— so let’s play a guessing game with it and see.

OCTOBER 15 — NETWORK COLLAB

unannounced! tba . . vote for the fandom you want to see me write for here! thank you. kink is also tba but it is not dc.

OCTOBER 17 — APHRODISIACS

DAN HENG X F!READER ﾉ 1040 words ﾉ the two of you wouldn’t even be in this situation if you had just listened to him. he had already warned you to stay close to him— but that seems to be the least of his concerns now.

OCTOBER 19 — “HOUSEKEEPING!”

FIC 1 — HOUSEKEEPING! togame jo x roomie!f!reader ﾉ 7387 words ﾉ you don’t realize how loud you are, do you? or are the walls just paper thin? his patience seems to also be running thin, but he’s always thought that he tries to be a pretty decent guy most of the time. a decent enough guy that doesn’t fantasize about fucking choji’s childhood friend raw, at least.

OCTOBER 23 — EXHIBITIONISM + TOYS

TAKIISHI CHIKA X F!READER! ﾉ 1085 words ﾉ you’re at a dinner date with your friends! looks like you’re one seat short, so there’s no other choice but to sit on his lap, right? though you’re pretty certain he can feel the vibrations like this.

OCTOBER 27 — MILD YANDERE

YANDERE!UMEMIYA HAJIME X F!READER ﾉ 1074 words ﾉ no one would dare hurt umemiya’s girl. they shouldn’t. they wouldn’t dare. but after some time.. he thinks he should give them another reminder. it wouldn’t hurt.

OCTOBER 31 — “CAN’T YOU JUST PRETEND?”

FIC 2 — CAN’T YOU JUST PRETEND? hayato suo x camgirl!f!reader ﾉ 4098 words ﾉ you always do what the highest tipper says, but looks like that’s backfired tonight! “bring someone to fuck you raw on your next stream” oh. but you don’t have a boyfriend, do you? so the second best option would be to swallow your pride and go ask one of your friends to act.

BONUS — UNSCHEDULED SFW DRABBLES!

ENDO YAMATO X F!READER ﾉ movies and cuddling! it’s your first halloween together… and oh. you even remember his favorites snacks? his heart flutters at the thought.

GHOST! HAYATO SUO X F!READER ﾉ you seem to be the only one who doesn’t mind the ghost following you. your friends want to get rid of him, but you look happy in his presence… so they’re left to just hold their breaths & deal with it.

#kinktober!#click this tag <- to see what other blogs are doing for october!!! lots of stuff there #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #evie’s kinktober

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o-sachi · 4 months ago

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Busted Lip ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ an ice pack should be enough to heal a busted lip, but you have another trick up your sleeve

ଳ character; hiragi toma (wind breaker)

ଳ tags; fluff, soft toma, gn reader, no y/n, ume silliness

[🐟]: To anon who requested a hiragi fic... thank you from the bottom of my hiragi-loving heart.

This was far from an unusual sight—Hiragi coming back from a scuffle and requiring you to patch up any injuries he sustained. But, as often as it happened, he would still insist that he was "a grown man" and that he could handle first aid on his own.

Too bad for Hiragi but you were more stubborn than he was. Despite his protests, it would always end up with him yielding to your commands.

He'd try to look annoyed and displeased with that grumpy look on his face, but the slight tint of red on his cheeks would betray him each time. At the very least, you'd spare the poor man of your teasing.

The Vaisravana unit came back to the school grounds a little later than expected. You were sure that if it were anyone else dating Hiragi—they'd already be shaking in their boots. But not you. You trusted Hiragi and his strength that no one would be able to take him down. Besides, you were also being pep talked by Ume as the two of you waited for them on the Furin rooftop.

"Ume-san, which part of town did they even go to? It's taking so long and I miss Toma already."

A booming laughter erupts from his chest. "They probably took a detour—buying us some food or something. Don't worry."

Oh well, it was always food with Ume. But if he isn't worried then, why should you be? You sat back in your seat, marveling at the setting sun before you while Ume continued taking photographs of his plants.

You sigh, longingly—and as if on cue—the doors to the rooftop swing open abruptly. A smile stretches on your face upon seeing Hiragi and all the other members on his unit. But your smile quickly turned lopsided once you noticed his busted lip. Hiragi thought he was being smart, trying to turn his head sideways and hoping that you wouldn't notice the glaring injury on his face.

Ume, on the other hand, was frowning for totally different reason and it had something to do with them coming back emptyhanded.

"You guys took so long and here I thought you were bringing back food..." With the way he pouted, it was almost impossible to tell that he was the top dog of Furin.

"Who said we were bringing ya back food?" Hiragi retorts, scratching the back of his neck.

Suo steps in with the usual calm expression. "It took us a while to come back because we encountered a couple of townspeople who requested our help."

Ume nodded. "How about we go get some food then and enjoy it up here? Hm? How does that sound?"

Nirei and Suo were on board as they always were with Ume's plans. Sakura insisted that he'd be heading home already, but that wasn't allowed on their watch. And Sugishita would go just about anywhere Ume wanted them to.

You already knew how Hiragi would respond, but would you felt being a little cheeky today in exchange for him making you miss him too much. Standing up from your seat, the grainy sound of the wooden chair against the concrete floor prompted the boys to look at you.

"Toma, you stay here with me," you say, firmly.

The others started snickering and teasing Hiragi who had the biggest scowl on his face—a scowl which was directed at them, of course. God forbid that he look at you with such a nasty expression.

They bicker a little more, wishing Hiragi good luck before he faces your "wrath". Exasperated, he shakes his head while everyone else filtered out of the rooftop. Once it was the two of you left, Hiragi glanced over at you.

"Ya thought that was funny hm?" he asks as he made his way over to you.

You watch as he pulls a chair closer to yours and you smile sweetly at his question. "They did laugh though, didn't they?"

He plops down on the chair with an exaggerated huff. Walking all afternoon was tiring enough and here you were—being brazen as ever. In front of the others too no less.

"You're a real piece of work," he murmurs. Normally, that sentence would have you raising your brow, but it came from Hiragi. He had a strange way of showing affection—not like you minded it.

You point a finger at his face, more specifically, the lip that was swelling up. "That. That's the real piece of work here. What happened to you huh?"

Hiragi clicks his tongue. It was naive of him to think that you'd let him get away with it without so much as an explanation. Seems pretty easy to do, but the fussing that would occur thereafter was the one thing he wanted to prevent.

Looking off to the side, he muttered beneath his breath. "Sakura hit me with a sign..." He spoke so softly as if the less you heard, the less you'd care about his busted lip.

Your brows furrow in confusion. You understood what he said, but at the same time you didn't.

"A sign? What sign? What were you guys up to?"

"We were helping an elderly couple put up a new sign on their store. So all of us hoisted up the sign and we were supposed to do it on my count of 3. But that damn kid doesn't know how to listen and hoisted too early."

His gaze wandered down to his feet, perching his elbows on his knees. "...Hence the busted lip."

A sigh of relief left your lips. Thankfully it wasn't a result of a fight this time. You could already imagine the kind of back-and-forth they had earlier with that sign. It made you giggle a bit—thinking about Hiragi and Sakura pointing fingers while everyone else stood awkwardly.

As soon as you stood up, his eyes were on you. "Where are ya going?"

"To the infirmary, duh. I'm getting you an icepack for that lip."

You were already a few steps ahead when he stopped you. A firm grasp was on your wrist as he held you in place. "Ya don't have to. Just stay here. It'll get better on its own."

You turn to look back at him. His gaze was firm, telling you that he was absolutely adamant that you stay put. Not wanting to be that overbearing partner, you give up on it.

Instead, you looked back at him with the same intensity. You two did this quite often which resulted in the others calling this little thing of yours as "flirting". Your own brand of flirting that is.

But a cheeky grin broke out on your face again at a silly thought that had crossed your mind.

"If you don't want an icepack and if you don't want me to move... well, I thought of a remedy that doesn't require any icepacks or me leaving here."

His interest... or trepidation, rather—was piqued.

Whatever "remedy" you have up your sleeve, he knew it was just another way of saying, "Oh I have another way to tease you and make you look like a fool in love."

Great. Just great, knowing that he had to indulge you as the good boyfriend that he is.

"What is it th-"

His sentence cuts off once you had your hands cupping his face and your lips on his. For someone weaker than him, you sure were strong enough when it came down to it. You pulled him down to your height while keeping your lips locked.

For a moment, you let him pull away. You wondered what kind of expression he'd make after this stunt that you pulled.

"Seriously?"

Once again, he tries to convince you about how disgruntled he was. But with the way his lips bent, it was clear he was trying to suppress a smile. How adorable, you thought.

The only attacks Hiragi couldn't defend against were the flurry of kisses you planted all over his face. His lips, cheeks, the tip of his nose, forehead—none of those were safe from your affections.

Before you knew it, the smile he had fought hard to subdue had made its way on his face. His own hands cupped your face, finally reciprocating the fondness you so kindly showered him with.

Your little moment, however, was interrupted by a squealing Ume.

"Hey, Nirei, get this on camera!"

... to which everyone else face palmed.

Not only did he ruin your fun, but he gave away their presence. So nothing was caught on camera that day.

Hiragi let go of you, giving you one last gentle gaze before scowling at the idiots that interrupted the two of you.

Well, he had to teach them a lesson before they could tease him, right?

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

#wind breaker #hiragi toma #wind breaker x reader #toma hiragi x reader #wind breaker hiragi

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kingkatsuki · 6 months ago

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→ Navi → About Me → Rules → Ko-fi → Ask → Main Masterlist

→ Wind Breaker Thirst Posts (shorter posts that aren't full fics).

Endo Yamato & Takiishi Chiika → The Ties That Bind. ↳ Endo would offer anything to Takiishi to make him happy, including you. 2.4k.

Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren → A Little Help. ↳ Kaji needs a little help being meaner to you in the bedroom, and there’s no one else he’d rather ask than Hiragi. 5.6k.

Kaji Ren & Togame Jou → Control. ↳ Kaji doesn’t mind attending any parties with you, especially when you get all dressed up for him. But he’ll admit, the remote controlled vibe that’s currently stuffed inside your panties makes them slightly more bearable. The only problem this time? Togame Jou finds out. 4.2k.

Kiryu Mitsuki & Sakura Haruka → Lewds. ↳ Thinking about being Kiryu’s girlfriend and sending him a nude when he’s out with friends. But Sakura accidentally sees it by glancing over at his phone screen and cums in his pants. 1.2k.

Kaji Ren → Sucker. ↳ Kaji fucks you with one of his lollipops. That’s it, that’s the post. 1.7k. → Untitled (for now). ↳ Meeting Kaji at a hardcore rock show. ?k. → The Beast Inside. ↳ You want to tame the beast inside Kaji, but maybe you just make it worse. 0.8k. → Will You Love Me Till It Hurts? (Never Leave Me At My Worst). ↳ Kaji hates himself when he gets like this, but luckily for him he has you to bring him back from the brink. 4.6k. → When You Know. ↳ Kaji finds you crying in an alley on one of his evening patrols, and it’s then that he realises just how hopeless he is when it comes to women— especially when he thinks they’re pretty. 2k. → Release. ↳ Kaji is trying to make sure you get home safe on a night out, but has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do when you need to pee— 1.9k. → Obsession. ↳ Kaji doesn’t consider it stalking. How could anyone use such an accusatory word when he’s just making sure that you’re safe? 1.2k.

Sakura Haruka → Miscommunication. ↳ Based on this silly little post I made here. Basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that. 2.9k. → Accidents. ↳ Sakura has a real hard time controlling himself around you. 1.4k.

Suo Hayato → Cat & Mouse. ↳ It shouldn’t have been this easy to gain the trust of the notorious Bofurin, but you’d practically been welcomed with open arms. But Suo Hayato had always been far more skeptical than the rest of his friends, and he was determined to reveal your true intentions. 4.4k. Togame Jou → Sleepy. ↳ Togame hates having his naps interrupted— unless it’s by you. 2.1k. → Appreciative. ↳ Togame has never been good at quickies— but why would he want to be when you were made to be appreciated. 2.4k. → Calm Before The Storm. ↳ Togame fingers you at the back of Shishitoren's theatre before training. 1.8k. → The Lion's Den. ↳ You knew all too well how dangerous it was to cross over the border into Shishitoren territory. You’d heard enough stories from the boys of Furin to know what a terrible, terrible idea it was. But the Furin jacket that you wore was like a protective shield around you, giving you the confidence to push the boundaries— and somehow you didn’t think that you would run in to the number two in command, Togame Jou. 4.2k. → A Helping Hand. ↳ When you can’t find any of your girl friends to take with you to the bathroom at a party, the guy you’ve been making out with for the evening will have to do. 1.5k. → For You. ↳ Based on this gorgeous art that I still can’t stop thinking about by @/rabbbitseason. 2.2k.

Tomiyama Choji → Say "Yes". ↳ Choji wants to go out with you, and he won’t take “no” for an answer. 1k.

Tsubakino Tasuku → Lipstick Kisses. ↳ Tsubaki and you like to kiss— it doesn’t matter where, or who’s watching. 1.5k.

#wind breaker masterlist #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #I'll make these more aesthetic later I cba right now

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arget-star · 17 days ago

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By Any Other Name

Sakura Haruka x F!Reader

A/N: Alright SO. I know I am primarily a Fire Emblem blog. however, Wind Breaker took over my life in the span of like a week and I could not get this thought out of my head and well. here we are. Not beta read, this is my first xreader fic i've ever posted. i hope you enjoy!

tags: fluff, a tiny bit of blood, feelings

wc: 2k

about: You met Sakura about six months ago, and have essentially wormed your way into his little walled off heart. He comes home to your now (mostly) shared little apartment, battered and bloody after saving a girl who looked like you

You’re not living together.

That’s what Sakura says, despite the fact you stay over four nights out of the week, and somewhere in the six months you’ve been dating, half your stuff has ended up in his ramshackle little apartment. “You deserve better than a leaky faucet”, he’d said, cheeks red and nose scrunched in a scowl. You’d merely laughed, kissing his forehead before replying, “It adds to the charm.” And that was that.

You’re not living together. So why does he hope you’ll be there, curled up on that cheap little couch you’d insisted on bringing over, that lovely smile on your face as you greet him?

Those assholes must’ve hit his head harder than he realized. Sakura grits his teeth, an arm banded around his throbbing torso as he wobbles along the sidewalk. Weaklings, all of them. Acting tough solely because they have nothing better to do with their time. Seriously, it’s just plain pathetic.

He spits out a glob of blood into the nearby bushes. He doesn’t remember biting his cheek; maybe he’d ground his teeth against it after taking a particularly nasty kick while dodging someone else’s punch. Wasn’t he past his body locking up, his muscles moving with all the speed of a turtle?

The girl had been clutching the long strap of her purse with all her meager might while surrounded by leering thugs. The type of guys who coast by on looks rather than action. Intimidation instead of respect. At least now he’s able to articulate—better yet, understand—what pisses him off so badly about guys like that. Sakura would’ve leapt in regardless, but then he caught sight of her underneath the lamplight, and her shade of hair matched yours. The purse even had a keychain dangling from it, the charms jingling in faint alarm.

She wasn’t you, obviously. You were already home, had probably cooked something simple yet delicious and were keeping it warm until he arrived.

So he froze, mismatched eyes wide as a new type of fear unfurled within his chest, and then all hell broke loose. He knew how to protect someone in a fight, finally, and while the poor girl flattened herself against the side of a nearby building as he sent the idiots flying, his attention still kept flicking to her. He kept thinking what he’d do if it was you, and on one such slip of his concentration, that bastard’s boot came out of nowhere.

He’ll have to report this to Umemiya in the morning, and tell you all about it tonight, and—

Sakura looks up. He’s nearly there; the derelict building doesn’t seem so foreboding, especially once he catches sight of the warm yellow light on in his apartment. Maybe, just maybe, things won’t be so bad after all.

The doorknob wiggles. You carefully place your bookmark inside your book, sitting up properly in your seat. Sakura’s home a bit later than usual—he probably got stuck eating at Café Pothos with everyone else. Good. You’re grateful he has so many friends, even if he acts like a cat who fell into a puddle of water about it.

“Welco—Sakura!” Your book tumbles from your hands in your haste to stand up. He stands in the doorway while you catalogue his injuries as if in slow motion. Blood drips down the left side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow. His nose is bleeding, too, running down his chin and staining his white shirt red. His knuckles are raw. It’s subtle; yet he sways, quickly placing his right hand against the wall to brace himself. The motion is enough to jolt you from your surprise.

You’re at his side in a blink. His reaction is sluggish; lips parting in belated surprise when you loop his right arm around your shoulders. Normally, he reads your movements almost before you make them, bracing himself for whatever contact you’re about to subject him to so he’s never caught off guard. But slowly, like water eroding rock, he’d learned that he can let his guard down around you, even at his most vulnerable.

Especially then.

“‘M fine,” he mutters out of reflex. You only scoff, walking him over to the couch with a small huff of effort. “Just a small fight.”

Carefully, you help ease him down onto the cushions, releasing your hold only once he’s settled. “A small fight?” You echo, disbelief in your tone. There’s no reprimand or ridicule, just a healthy doubt. He doesn’t know exactly when he stopped looking for the irritation he’s so used to hearing. Leaning his head back, he sighs. “Some guys were causin’ trouble. A new gang, I think. Trying to rob a girl—” he cuts off abruptly, and you watch his cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red, nearly blending in with the dried blood caking his skin. Sakura immediately looks away; he misses the knowing glint entering your expression.

Spinning on your heel, you head for the kitchen. The faucet doesn’t leak as badly now, after you’d finagled a temporary fix with determination and a healthy amount of internet research. He deserves more than a crappy sink, even if he won’t admit it. “You were by yourself?” You ask, opening the drawer and removing a towel. (Yet another item that had miraculously wound up in his space one day. When Sakura confronted you, you’d shrugged, then asked what he wanted for dinner.)

Sakura watches you for a moment, ignoring how something deep within his chest settles as you run the towel under cool water. It’s a familiar scene, enough that he no longer feels the urge to yell and raise his fists in defense. “Yeah. Nothin’ I couldn’t handle on my own.”

Strange. Suo-chan and Nirei-chan always shadow Sakura. Unless Sakura is going home—they haven’t invaded his space since the day they’d discovered him sick on the floor. Now, especially, Sakura would rip their heads off if they came snooping around while you were home. The faucet shuts off. You wring out the towel once, twice, then pad back over to the couch.

“I never doubted that, Grade Captain,” you tease, arranging yourself so you’re sitting on your knees. Drops of water drip down your wrist and onto the cushions below. His blush deepens, and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “Now hold still.”

“Shaddup,” he mumbles without heat. Instinct makes him shift back an inch; he’s always taken care of himself, alone. Sick, bruised, bloodied—he proved time and again he didn’t need anyone else. Then you breezed into his life, upending his entire world with your musical laughter and patient touch.

This is far from the first time you’ve patched him up. He no longer hisses and rages and scowls, a teenage version of a toddler’s temper tantrum, yet neither can he completely disregard a lifetime of gut reactions to others extending a hand in his direction.

You never minded when his hackles rose. You understood him, remaining endlessly understanding while he let his fear run its course. The damp rag hovers in the space between you and him. Sakura zeros in on the blue material instead of your face.

“Ready?”

That’s another thing. You ask him about things. Wait for his brain to catch up with non-dangerous situations. It’s weird, and scary, and wonderful.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are.”

The smile you give him is radiant. Your free hand cups his less bloody cheek, keeping him steady, while you tenderly press the rag to his chin. He hisses out a breath through clenched teeth.

It’s quiet, as you slowly clean him up, beyond the soft scrap of material against skin. There’s a rhythm to your movements. Sakura finds it soothing, despite the circumstances. You both study each other; Sakura, like you’re a puzzle he’s still trying to solve, and you, like he’s something precious.

His golden eye truly is beautiful. He told you others have compared it to twilight, but you think it’s more akin to burnished gold. Rare, and infinitely treasured. He closes it, keeping it safe from harm as you run the now pink-tinged cloth over his browbone. A shame, you think, he keeps himself so locked away.

The slight pressure leaves his face. You move back, giving him room to breathe, holding the rag loosely in your hand. His eye opens again, a coin glinting in a riverbank.

“There,” you say, unfolding yourself from the couch, brushing your thumb across his cheek before you release him completely. “I’ll be back with the first aid supplies.”

Sakura just nods. He never says the words thank you; but you hear it in the way he lets you take care of him, how he takes your hands so reverently in his once your all finished, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll snap in half if he squeezes too hard.

You’re opening the cabinet underneath the sink when he speaks again. “She looked like you.”

He says it so quietly, you nearly miss it. You freeze, half-bent down to reach for the ridiculous amounts of bandages and antiseptic bottles stashed neatly in their respective baskets. (Another thing you’d changed one day, much to Sakura’s initial chagrin, until he’d stumbled home covered in half a dozen cuts on the rare day you weren’t waiting for him, and found everything he needed without cursing his lack of organization.)

Mechanically, you grab the necessary materials. You’d assumed as much, based on his reaction when you told you the cause of his current state. A shudder runs down your spine as you imagine what the other guys must look like, lying defeated in the street. Sakura doesn’t fight just on behalf of someone else—at least, that what helps him sleep at night, though you know his tune has changed after all his experiences with Bofurin. For him to fight on your behalf, however tangentially related, makes your heart flutter.

Kotoha will practically jump for joy when you tell her.

For now, you let this newfound knowledge settle into your skin, your fluttering heart, smiling to yourself as you exit the bathroom, arms loaded with supplies. “Did she, now?”

Sakura’s sitting upright, head down, once again avoiding your gaze. His fingernails dig into the fabric of his school pants. Beneath the curtain of two-toned hair, you can see the blush sitting high on his cheeks. It’s a miracle they’re not permanently stained pink.

“Y-yeah. I knew she wasn’t you, but for a moment…I need to teach you how to defend yourself. I can’t patrol everywhere, and I’m not the strongest yet. Anyone from Furin will keep you safe, but if we’re not around—”

This is new. You swallow, setting the first aid supplies down on the tatami, sitting down with your legs crisscrossed. (One day, you’ll convince him to buy a table, but there’s only so much furniture you can squeeze in such a tiny place.)

“Sakura,” you say, but he doesn’t hear you.

“—I need to know you can take care of yourself until I get there—”

“Sakura.”

“—and send them all flyin’—”

“Haruka.”

That shocks him into silence. He inhales, then looks up sharply, lips curling into the angry snarl you know so well. It’s his only defense mechanism, beyond his fists, and he’d never raise those at you. (That thing lodged within his chest stirs again. No one’s called him by his given name in years. It feels right, that here, in this space you two have created together, you should use it.)

He’s quite the sight, half patched-up and spluttering mad. One eye darkens like a storm at sea; the other kindles into molten gold, ready to burn any who get in his way.

You’re surprised, too. But you didn’t know what else to do. He’s never spiraled like this before, and it hits you that for perhaps the first time, he was genuinely scared for someone else. You shake your head, breaking eye contact, and reach for the gauze. “I’m sorry, Sakura. I should have asked before using your first name.”

Your fingers shake only a little when you grab the nearest antiseptic, flipping open the cap with your thumb. He watches it all, struck dumb. He doesn’t want an apology. He wants you to say it again, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

All of the fight leaks out of him. His shoulders slump forward. Haruka. Haruka. You hadn’t said it in disgust, or fear, or hatred. If he had to guess, you sounded concerned. Haruka. “I liked hearin’ you say it,” he replies.

A laugh bubbles out of you, born from nervous relief. You nearly spill antiseptic all over you instead of the gauze. “Really? May I call you Haruka, then? Not all the time…just here.” Rising to your knees, you crawl over to him, taking one battered hand in your soft one.

His throat tightens. An odd pressure builds behind his eyes. “Fine.”

“This’ll sting,” you murmur in warning, almost like an afterthought. “You can use mine, too. If you want.”

Sakura’s about to respond, tell you he’ll do it if it’ll make you happy (and make his own heart beat a little faster), but then the gauze descends onto his split knuckles. It’s not like eating a kick to the face; it barely registers in comparison.

Maybe it’s the emotions he’s kept bottled up since the fight. Maybe it’s the fact you called him Haruka and the world didn’t explode. Both things, he assumes, and that’s why your healing touch hurts worse than a dozen roundhouse kicks.

It fades, after that first bright burst.

Neither of you say anything again while you continue your ministrations. Once his knuckles are taken care of, you move on to his face, tenderly smoothing his bi-colored bangs off his forehead to ensure no strands get caught underneath the small bandage you apply to the cut above his eyebrow.

The entire time, he replays this strange evening over and over again in his head. It all leads back to you, caring for him, using his first name like it’s nothing when it in fact means everything. He hates himself, a little bit, for not being better at this.

For your part, your focus on him turns clinical. You can deal with the emotional part of it later. When you’ve finished with the last bandage, you stare at him a moment. Take in this boy who pushed away the entire world when it wrote him off, the very same boy who harbors no malice in his heart, just kindness hidden by anger.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, then slide away before he can reciprocate. He splutters again, blush back in place, and it’s such a Sak—Haruka thing to do, you bite back a laugh.

“Are you ready to eat, Haruka? You get hungry after a good fight.”

He offers you a rare smile in return.

#sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka #wind breaker #sakura wind breaker #char writes #i suck at titles bro rip me #i am truly obsessed with this show sakura has bewitched me #also i realized AFTER i wrote this in a fever dream that i may have fudged the layout of sakura's apt a bit. shrugs #.sakura haruka

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smilingangel582 · 6 months ago

Text

Wind breaker, here I come! I couldn't watch the new episode yet due to some minor issues! Well... I wanna see more fics from others, but I'm too impatient 😤 so I'm writing one again!

Can't think of a better lee than Sakura, so... im gonna put a switch, Nirei and Sugishita! Totally ler Suo and Umemiya!

The other characters aren't gonna be part of the fic because... I never read the manga but ik bits of spoilers from it... soooo imma skip them till the anime introduces them... yeeet imma add some of the teeny tiny bits I was spoiled from the manga!

My spelling sucks ik and I'm a faster writer, so... I tend to make a lot of misspelling stuff as I type fast. (It's not ADHD or anything special... I'm just a hyper person in real life... hehe)

ENJOY!

Warning spoilers from the anime and perhaps manga "my imagination after episode 8"

The big man himself

Sakura Haruka, an outsider, but everyone in this town accepted him as family as quickly as Sakira pummeled five dudes in an instant whiff.

What the hell is this town...?

His thoughts are often reserved and well kept to himself. Even as he walked through the hallways, he noticed familiar faces greeting him as grade captain and respectful gestures. Sure Sakura can take in most and yet...

"Omg! He's the first year grade captain who beat shishitoren second in command!"

"His look is so cool!"

A small blush crept up to his cheeks, he just grunted in response, leaving them mid-praise towards him.

It's almost like an attack mechanism to Sakura, like compliments are his weakness, and the opponent strikes it mercilessly till he's crumbled.

Honestly, Sakura hates that about himself.

"Sakura-san! We need your help!"

Hearing Nirei's voice in front, he looked up, his bangs lifting at the sight of Suo and Nirei...

And Sugishita???

"What the hell do u want?" Sakura grumbled.

Suo's calmly allows to explain themselves, "Now Sakura-kun, us first years have a job to do... its specifically by Hiragi-san"

Straightening himself, Sakura nods seriously, "OK... sure"

Suo stares for a moment before chuckling into his hand, this made Sakura frown, "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing... I just thought how cute it is that you actually listen to your senpais..."

Sakura got flustered and began to sputter angrily, "Q-Quiet! I don't respect... well, uh, I m-mean... ugh, never mind. What the heck do we need to do anyway?"

Suo noticed in amusement how Sakura faltered in defeat, then he replied, "Oh nothing... Sugishita-kun and Hiragi-san over-watered one of Umemiya-san's precious tomato plants..."

Sakura blinked.

Eh?

"And... whats the issue?"

Sugishita snapped, grabbing Sakura by the shirt, "It's a big problem dumbass!"

Sakura gritted his teeth in fury, "Who you calling dumbass?! Dumbass!"

Sup calmly separated them and began to run over what they should do, "So... the big issue is... they are a special gift from his -I quote 'Kotoha-chan'"

Now that made sense. Sakura pinched the bridge of his nose... no wonder they dragged him to the roof when Umemiya isn't around.

"Now what should we do?" Sakura asked folding his arms.

"We have to distract Umemiya-san, and make him forget about that plant" Nirei said, sweating buckets throughout their whole conversation. Sakura stumbled in surprise. He really forgot Nirei was actually there...

(Ps. I did, actually... teehee ^w^)

"Oh..." Sakura said blankly, putting two and two together. He turned now, "So good luck... its not my problem anyway"

"Waiiit!" Nirei clung yo his jacket, "You are out grade captain! Dont abandon us pls!!"

"Sakura-kun, we told u the story so... basically you are involved" suo shrugged nonchalantly, Sugishita glared daggers as if he's blackmailing Sakura, "You better help..."

"I could care less!"

Before anyone could pass out any words through their conversation. Sakura heard the door on the rooftop open, Umemiya came.

Oh shit.

"Ah! My cute little underclassmen!" Umemiya rushed towards the group with joy and then without warning ruffling everyone's hairs.

He specifically embaraced Sakura, showing he's a favourite.

"Ahhh! Sakuraaa" a childish cry of bliss came from the leader's lips, as he almost squashed the first year.

Sugishita glared and growled like a rottweiler, Suo claimed he's a jealous puppy further angering him.

"Well, well! What brings you lot to my humble paradise!"

Sakura squirmed out of his grip, grumbling, "Trying to protect that stupid plant of -hmph!"

He forgot... he forgot... Sakura luckily closed his own mouth before digging his own grave... and yet... Umemiya looks like he already got a shovel close to him.

"Hmm..." Umemiya smirked, now flicking his forehead, "Sakura.... When you lie, I can tell that your ear turns red"

He got flustered "I-i do not! I'm not lying!"

Sakura noticed Nirei seemed anxious, Suo with a calm and an unapologetic smile and Sugishita totally ignoring him. They all abandoned him... he was bait after all...

"Oh no~ Sakura-kun," Umemiya sang playfully, suddenly stepping forward with incredible speed, "You shouldn't shift your attention to something irrelevant when your opponent is right in front of you"

Sakura gasped when he felt Umemiya grab his waist instantly. Without realising he was pinned to the wall, he slid down when those fingers made a funny sensation over his sides...

Wait... is this... tickling?

Resist! Resist! Resist damn it! Come on, Haruka! U have to!

Sakura felt his own thoughts fighting the urge to laugh as mad fingers scurried up his ribcage instantly. He struggled and kicked in reflex, surprisingly arching is back like a flexible sprig when Umemiya skillfully tickled his lower ribs.

"G-gah!" A squawk left him. While Suo and the rest awkwardly saw what was happening, the eye patch guy had to comment, "Oh wow... Sakura-kun are you ticklish?"

Umemiya grinned at that, "Oh, he is... how cute, little bro... but be careful. Your big bro is a biiiig tickle monster!"

Sakura suddenly jolted when Umemiya traced his waist beneath the shirt. The tingling sensation on his bare skin was insane. Its perhaps because Sakura never felt tickling before that he actually felt it like something so strong and unbearable.

How embarassing... he's giggling like a four year old.

"Shihihihihit! Hahahaha, whyhehehe whhhyy hahaha??!" Sakura squirmed, now twisting on his stomach, trying to escape.

Why is this man even tickling him?

"Why?" Umemiya grabbed his sides, pulling him closer to him, "Because you are obviously hiding something from me... aaaand... your are too cute!"

"Dahahahahamn ihihiiiiHIHIHIT! NOHO!" Sakura's laughter kicked an octave when Umemiya traced his armpits - not even tickle - just gentle featherlight tickling he never expected to tickle so much!

But...it feels good... it's the first time someone ever touched him so playfully...

Not cruel jabs that sting like poker sticks or burning hits from harsh punches... just mild subtle ticklish jolts like electric shocks.

"Suo, Nirei, can you grab him for a moment?"

Hearing this, Sakura snapped into reality. Huh? Why? Why are they restraining him?

Suo grabbed his wrists up above his head, the warm concrete floor beneath him, giving his wishes before his doomsday, Nireo sitting on his shins... and Umemiya on the side with a wide grin.

"I would've resorted to other easier methods, but I guess you like being tickeld. Eh Sakura?"

Blush, Sakura yelped, "N-no! Obviously not! Ugh, y-you bastard... and -" Sakura turned to the other three."Are you guys ditching me????"

Suo gives a gentle grin, "Sorry, but you are strong enough to handle this unlike us, plus..." Suo gives a teasing scribble under Sakura's armpit, making the latter jolt in surprise, "Umemiya-san said you like it"

Sakura exploded, "I NEVER SAID THAT -AAAH!"

Umemiya launched his tickles instantly before Sakura could express anything. Sakuta couldn't even focus his priorities as multiple spots are being targeted.

"Saakuraaa~, what's the juicy secret you're keeping from me?"

Gosh... the others guys are supposed to be on his side! Did they all deviate from the plot just to mess with Sakura? Unbelievable!

Sakura panicked with a squeak when Umemiya kept lingering around his stomach. He felt a plunging sensation in his gut as Umemiya poked his naval.

"D-Doho nohohot pohohohoke thahahat!" Sakura shrieked, now bucking himself tryinf to shake them off but they all remained resilient.

"Wow, Sakura-san, you really are sensitive" Nirei unconsciously squeezed his kneecaps making it worst despite his feigned innocence.

Sugishita watched with an unreadable expression his face was so judgemental, and Sakura hoped it didn't mean 'cute' to the taller guy.

Suo leaned towards Umemiya now, not even bothering to lower his voice through Sakura's booming laughter, "His armpits seem pretty sensitive too, boss"

It's bad... though Sakura has never been tickled before, his alert senses are tingling mad. Its bad...!

"Oh...?" Umemiya slowly crawled his fingers up the boney ribs and finally into the light muscular armpits, "Here? Is Sakura sensitive under there?"

Squeal. To say Sakura let out such an embarrassing sound was not a lie. He wanted to crawl it yo a rock and die right now for making such an absurd noise like a squeal.

"EEEEEH! NOOO! IHIHIHI GIVE I GIVE HAHAHA SLOHOHOHOW DOHOHOWN!"

"Ehh? Already? Wow, that didn't take long?" Suo teased, and Umemiya winked back, stopping gradually as he persisted, "Tell me, kid~"

"Ahahahahaha ohoohohohok ohohohok! Ihihihits yohohour duhuhuhuhumb plahahahant thehehe ohohone Kohohohotahaha gahahave yahahaha!"

Sakura confessed... all it took was a tickle to his armpits to spill the milk.

Umemiya stopped instantly. Uh oh... all of that may be fun and games but Nirei realised that they were suppose to keep him distracted not make Sakira confess...

Umemiya sigh, scratching the back of his head, "Well I wanted to make Sakura confess about liking to be tickled... I almost forgot why I started this..." he smiled now ruffling Sakura's messed up hair and his still blushing face flowing more red.

"Well im glad you kept your comradeship safe sweet brother" Umemiya grinned.

Sakura blushed to the tips of his ears, huffing, "Not like I did anythjnf but be a victim..."

It was all OK...

"So... what's this about my plant?"

Or... It wasn't

"Did I hear you say it was Kotoha's plant?" Umemiya's smile darkened, sweet to bitter ...its bad now.

Sakura gulped but suo being the rescuer instantly grabbed everyone and scurried away before the leader of Borfurin could catch up.

Sakura couldn't say he hated his day but he really wondered what happened to the tomato plant Hiragi said he was gonna replace...

No one will know the depths Hajime Umemiya would go to cherish what Kotoha gave him.

Sakura shivered... a bigger tickle monster is lurking inside the leader.

The end was rushed, ik! Ik! It came too cute, too, so the plot was messy! Sorryyyyy my badddd also don't blame me! It's so late, and I'm hyper from caffeine! Byeee

#wind breaker tickle fic #lee!sakura #ler!umemiya #ler!suo #ler!nirei #haruka sakura #wind breaker #hajime umemiya #hayato suo #akihiko nirei

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writersdrug · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 4)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: You've been sold to a new group - again. KorTac just bought you off of the last team's hands, forcing you to uproot and settle a fifth time. Something feels different about this team, but you remain distant and cold from everyone. You figure in a few months, you'll be tossed onto the next bidder's plate, anyways. No sense in trying to bond with anyone now.

Additionally, Konig takes the first step at cracking through your outer shell.

Warnings: some distasteful jokes.

Notes: Nothing fancy here, just setting up the foundation for the upcoming events. This weekend should be more eventful! Thanks to everyone who's loved it so far, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter! (Also, still working on some oneshots and a Price fic too)

A year had passed. It felt like ten. I had been traded between four different private military groups. It felt like forty.

Working with Jax’s group started out just fine. On the first mission, things couldn’t have gone more smoothly. I took down every single enemy that stood in between me, the team, and the hostile package we were saving. We were done in less than three hours. Apparently, that was a problem for the rest of the team. I was too good. So skillful, I was hurting their egos. Rather than think of how I was helping carry out missions successfully without any significant losses, the team complained that I wasn’t fitting in and was causing a problem among the members. “Like she did back at her old base.”

I hadn’t been causing problems at all, but I hadn’t been trying to fit in either. From the moment I walked onto the base, I felt like a reject. I minded my own business and kept to myself, only being a team player when we were briefing or when we were on the field. The rest of the team was just fine with that arrangement, until they thought my skill threatened their reputation. The results of the missions I attended with the group should have convinced Jax to ignore his soldiers’ requests to have me bumped, but as with Price, he had his favorites. And he chose to listen to them.

It was a similar talk as the one I had with Price. You’re good, but the team doesn’t like you. You’re not really causing issues but, indirectly, you are. So we’re selling you to another private group. Even though they were selling me off just as easily and quickly as Price had, this didn’t hurt as much. Because I never had anything here to root myself onto to begin with.

So there I was, back on the heli, squinting down at the complex as my hair whipped around my face. Some soldiers stared back at me, sneering. Some smug. I stared back, expressionless. I’d learned to grow a hard shell around my roots – if I couldn’t be planted anywhere, it wouldn’t hurt as much when I was torn out of the earth again.

The two soldiers in the front seat were quiet. They pulled the heli off of the landing pad, speaking to each other in a language I wasn’t familiar with. It sounded Swedish. I turned my attention to the file in my hands, gripping it tightly as the wind threatened to snatch it from me.

KORTAC

Majka/Ridgeback

CONTRACTUAL AGREEMENT

I signed, looking out at the clouds. Another initiation briefing, another ice-breaker, another couple of months of hell. I mentally prepared myself for the unwelcoming stares and the countless cold shoulders I would bump into trying to rub elbows with this new group. I wasn’t sure if I would ever find a place to land, or if I would keep hopping across teams like rocks in a river, until I was swallowed by the water and carried away. Hopefully that happens sooner rather than later.

-----

I stood in the corner of the dimly lit room, settled in the shadows behind Ridgeback’s desk. He sat there, scribbling his signature on my document. I noticed how often he muttered to himself as he worked, his brow consistently furrowed, as if everything he read was something troubling. Eventually, he flipped through the pages once more, before grunting in approval. “Just about finished here, I’ll just need one more signature from you. Then you’re officially a KorTac sergeant.”

Like hell I am.

He held out his pen in my direction. I took it, scribbling my signature at the bottom of the page. It was sloppy. He scoffed. “You ain’t gonna give it a once-over?” he asked.

“No sir, I already know what’s in my contract.” I replied dryly. Five years, stealth expert, marksman, sniper-as-needed, subject to termination at director’s discretion.

He smirked at my expression. “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in with the rest of us.”

I doubt it. “We’ll see, sir.”

After signing my contract, Ridgeback collect the papers and we shuffled out of his office. He made his way down the hall as I trailed behind. The compound that KorTac was based at was surprisingly the most decent-looking out of the previous compounds I had been at. From what I had bothered to look at in the file, they were pretty well off; they carried out missions for different eastern governments as easily as one would check something off their to do list. And they were paid handsomely. Something I had to look forward to. Maybe something that would coerce me into putting in an effort to stay with the team.

Ridgeback was one of their leaders, and was a sinister looking thing. His eyes were always filled with suspicion, his body was hulking and tense… He looked like he was either ready for me to stab him in the back, or that he was getting ready to do that to me himself. His steps echoed through the halls rhythmically, while mine were nearly inaudible.

Despite my hard outer-shell, I was on edge. Every time I was signed to a new team, there were jabs, insults, threats, and sometimes petty attempts to trip me up – mentally and physically. I had no reason to think that this compound would be any different. If I could, I would have grown spikes from my skin, keeping everyone and everything at a distance.

We entered a small room with a table, some chairs, and a rug. How much do the governments pay them to afford such a luxury? Several people stood throughout the room, mostly against the far wall. Ridgeback slapped his papers on the table, spreading them to his liking, while I pressed myself against the wall behind him. Just a few minutes of this, then I can leave. I prayed that the meeting would go by quickly so I could go to my room. I felt like a dog, snarling and hunched as I faced the pack of wolves, who stared at me dangerously. You’re in the wrong group.

Ridgeback cleared his throat. “I hope you all looked over the files this morning.”

No answer.

“As usual, I see…” he sighed. “We have a new team member. I’d like you to please welcome ‘Bonnie’.” He stepped aside and gestured to me with a tilt of his head.

I met everyone in the eyes with an ice-cold gaze. I wanted it to be known: Leave me alone. I’ll do my job, you do yours. Otherwise, fuck off.

A few stares, some rolling eyes, some groans, and the occasional indifferent glance. I was used to it: no one wanted me here. Give it a few months and I would be sold off to the next group. My skills couldn’t make up for the lack of chemistry with the team – I would be wasting no efforts to change that.

“What does she bring to the table?” one man asked.

“Better be a sandwich.” Someone answered, earning a few laughs.

“Chlamydia.” Another said. More laughter. A few glares towards the speaker.

I continued to stare at the wall behind them, unamused.

“I expect you to treat her with respect.” Ridgeback continued, purposefully directing his words towards certain people in the room. “We’ve needed another marksman for a while now, and she just so happens to bring other skills with her. She’s a decorated sergeant major that specializes in stealth extractions and attacks. We need her. You all know that, seeing as how these last few months you all have been lacking.”

More silence. Some people shifted uncomfortably.

“So please accept her as one of our own, because she’s here for a while.”

I groaned internally. We’ll see.

Ridgeback moved on to talk about other things. An upcoming hostage-rescue mission set to take place two weeks from now. I remained against the wall, listening close to the details: I would be one of the first people to strike, alongside Fender, O’Connor, Konig, and Horangi. Fender and O’Connor would work together on a checkpoint, while Konig, Horangi, and I would be alone to take out the other three. Zero, Roze, Juno, and Oni would be retrieving and extracting the hostage package, with Castillo and O’Connor covering them as snipers – once O’Connor and Fender had cleared their checkpoint. Mine wasn’t too far away from them, so I would be backup as needed.

Simple enough.

After the briefing, we were dismissed, and I trudged out of the room with everyone else. I broke off from the crowd and walked briskly down the hall. I heard a few disgruntled voices as I pushed past the bodies.

“Gone so soon?” a woman’s voice called out. I didn’t bother to turn around.

“Got shit I need to do.” I replied.

“Fair – we’ll be in the commons later, you should swing by. I’d be rude if you didn’t introduce yourself.”

I ignored her and continued down the hall. I pulled my keycard out of my pocket – this compound was nice. Most bases didn’t even have the luxury of locked doors, let alone private barrack rooms. I reached my door and hurriedly tapped the card on the lock, stepping inside and locking myself in.

I let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the door. I didn’t feel anxious, yet my shoulders couldn’t have been more tense. Having to adjust to a new team for the fifth time… the weight of it finally settled on my mind, and I groaned. Maybe I should just quit. Being a civilian would be boring, but at least it’s a consistent life.

My bags were still piled on the floor near my bed. I had the convenience of an in-unit shower and bathroom, as well as a desk and a short dresser. I grabbed one of the bags, dropping it onto my bed and rummaging through it. I pulled out a pair of cargo pants and a compression shirt – I desperately needed to change, as my current clothes were still covered in dust and dirt from the helicopter ride.

I quickly took a shower, leaving my hair in a braid and focusing on washing the dirt from my body. I dried off and pulled on the new set of clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror – my eyes had dark bags under them, and my mouth had a slight downturn in the corners. Something that had become permanent over the last year.

I walked back into my room. My bag was still on the bed, clothes strewn about, along with a couple of books and files. I sighed, pushing them all to the side and flopping down on the mattress. Damn, I might actually try to stay this time… I thought, sinking into the pillows. I closed my eyes, wondering if I would even go to the common area tonight. They’d be fine if I wasn’t there.

Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on my door. I tilted my head up, staring daggers into the door, hoping whoever it was would just go away. I’d had my fill of strangers for the day. I dropped my head back down onto the pillows. Another, sharper knock thrummed against the door.

“Busy.” I stated loudly.

“No you’re not.” An accented voice spoke through the door.

I scoffed, rolling out of bed and making my way to the door. Who the fuck-

I opened it annoyedly; my eyes were met with someone’s chest under their compression shirt. I looked upwards until I finally found their eyes, which were the only things visible under his sniper hood. I cocked my head to the side. “Yes?”

The man cleared his throat. “Bonnie?” he asked. There was a sense of professionalism in his voice, with an undertone of… nervousness? I couldn’t quite place it.

“That’d be me.” I said curtly. Unintentionally, my demeanor became cold and unwelcoming, as I had forced it to over the years when I had to interact with anyone. Alone, I was myself. Around other people, no one had the opportunity to know what I was like. I refused to let them.

“Konig.” He reached his hand down in front of me. I grasped it firmly and shook it, surprised at how strong his hold was.

“Cool.” I said.

“I’m your Colonel.” He spoke, and I noticed his Austrian accent.

“Cool.” I repeated.

“Since we’ll be working together,” he started, taking a step back so I didn’t have to crane my neck so hard to look at him, “I figured a proper introduction was in order.” He peered over my shoulder, glancing at the clothes strewn about my bed. I caught a flicker of annoyance in his glance, before he looked back at me. “What do you say we talk over dinner? You’ll get a chance to meet the rest of the team, and figure out how we work.”

“Actually, we won’t be working together.” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. Konig looked confused. I continued: “Ridgeback said you’ll have your own checkpoint to clear, and I’ll have mine. I don’t need to ‘figure anything out’. I know how to do my job, thank you very much.”

Konig’s eyes narrowed in disgust. I saw his hands clenching into fists. “You’re a part of a team. You need to work with them, you know.”

“I don’t need anything.” I snapped. “Tell me what to do and I’ll get it done. That’s what I do.”

Konig huffed in frustration. He gave me one last glare before muttering something in German and storming off. I sneered behind his back, then closed my door behind me.

I started to curse at myself – I was given the perfect opportunity to bond with the team, and I had squashed it like a bug. But I told myself what I always did. It wouldn’t have worked out anyways. Just wait until after the first mission, you’ll be sold of to the next director that deems you useful. It’s only a matter of time – no use trying to find a sense of home here. I walked back over to my bed, dropping on it with a scowl.

My roots were hanging in the air, desperate to grab hold of something, anything – just to ground myself. My leaves were starting to fall off and float away, and my branches were tired. I was so tired. I wished I was back with the 141. I wished I had said something to Soap before I left. I should have begged Price to let me stay. I should have tried to talk it out with Ghost from the night that it first fell apart.

I groaned, cradling my head in my hands. I’m not going to the common area tonight.

-----

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues

#konig cod #konig x reader #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #konig smut #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley smut #konig #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader

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obsessivestar · 3 months ago

Text

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader

{{- Welcome to Chapter 4! Gonna ditch the Story Description from here on out. If this is your first chapter, I'd recommend reading Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 first! Or just read this one if you want the good shit, up to you ;^) -}}

//General Warnings: 18+ fic, Reader implied to be afab and under 5'5.

Chapter Warnings: Heated language. Heavy kissing. Mentions of Jackbox (Idk if that should count as a warning but the game is in this chapter so if you don't know of it you might get confused)\\

> Word count: 4.7k (I'm so fucking sorry LMAO)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129

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Chapter 4: You Don't Wanna Kiss Me?

The shots we had just done looked very pretty, actually. The crew had gotten this one beautiful shot of the extras throwing around the ball on the left with Ted and I along the flagpole on the right, the bright sun giving this shadowy effect to us all. Good. This way, you can't see how absolutely embarrassed I was with how close Ted was to me; practically had me pinned against that pole. It did make for an excellent shot though, and I could tell Tanner was proud. I didn't want to ruin that for him.

Once we all moved inside, Ted and I finally got to take part in some scenes where we'd be speaking to one another. These next scenes had extras moving around with packed bags and boxes, simulating a large group of friends helping each other move in. Ted and I would be discussing graduation in the scene over by the kitchen table. He and Tanner had apparently made some adjustments to the script earlier in the morning as the personality of 'Mason' needed to be tweaked for Ted's more extroverted personality. I didn't mind it, any new context didn't change my own lines and we were free to improv if need be. Ted would even start the scene by picking up a box from the front door to bring to the kitchen table to make the scene feel more natural. I liked how much Ted was willing to adapt to everything for the production, I'm sure Tanner appreciated it too; and I appreciated getting to see Ted move some more.

Oh man, I'm not actually starting to like this guy, am I?

I have to control my thoughts for the scene to continue. These casual takes are relatively easy to get through when my brain isn't arguing with itself. We shoot several different scenes together, some where we're talking alone and some where we're in a group setting, once again doing any necessary retakes until the sun starts to set once again and Tanner decides to call it for the day. As the film crew once again packed up and dispurse to their own accommodations, I found out who that 5th mystery member of the editing team was. It was Dan, the guy that had almost hit me with the football earlier. He apologized to me more, but I reassured him all was okay and that I wasn't upset with anyone. The interaction had got me thinking about how to wind the night down without us all retreating to our bedrooms. We had ended the 2nd day of filming a little earlier than we wrapped up yesterday, so we had the free time. I pitched the idea to Tanner once everyone else had left, and he loved the idea, so we got everyone else together and met up in the living room.

Tanner was the one to suggest bringing his PC down from his room to play Jackbox, a party game where you use your phones as controllers to connect and play some entertaining mini games. We'd all have to be together for the next 3 weeks anyways; it felt like the perfect ice breaker. At this point, everyone had changed into their own clothes, including Ted, who was wearing a black sweater and some casual dark grey pants. He looked pretty comfy, actually. The couch we were all on was like one giant sofa, all connected together in the shape of a sharp U with a large flat screen TV mounted up on the wall adjacent to us. I had sat myself near one of the corners on the left side, pleasantly surprised when Ted chose to sit next to me. The scent of pine I had caught on him earlier was a little stronger now, even though he wasn't sitting all that close to me.

"Did you put more cologne on?" I ask with a smirk, sitting up a bit more on the couch as he got comfortable next to me. "Yeah. I sweat a lot sometimes and I don't want to smell." Ted admitted, sounding a lot more relaxed than I'm used to hearing. He might've been a little tired from the long day we've had.

"That's actually why I'm sitting over here. Tanner smells like shit, like, almost all the time, so..." Ted jokes, giving a tired grin to Tanner who was setting up his PC to connect to the TV. "That's cap, chat. That's so cap." Tanner casually responds, plugging an HDMI cable to the side of the TV, then moving to sit at the far left end of the couch. Dan had chosen to sit somewhat in the middle part of the large sofa, more on Tanner's side so Joe could sit next to me.

"If you want to sit next to (Y/N), you can just say that." Tanner speaks up again, moving his mouse and keyboard onto the coffee table. I blush to myself, pulling my hands into my own long sleeved shirt. If Tanner of all people is starting to comment on...whatever's between Ted and I, it must be noticeable to literally everyone else. So it can't just be my imagination. "No, see, she doesn't smell like gym socks, so that's fine. I'll take vanilla over gym socks."

"I smell like vanilla to you?" I scoff, turning my head to him and raising a brow.

"It's not 'to me'. I just know you use vanilla."

"What do you mean I use vanilla?"

"You have a little spray bottle that says 'warm vanilla sugar." Ted spreads his thumb and his pointer figure to estimate the size of the bottle. I'm flabbergasted because he's right.

"How the fuck do you know that???" Joe asks, sounding about as confused as I am.

"Because I saw her put it in her bag!"

"Why were you--" a chuckle escapes me. "How do you know exactly what it's called?"

"You left it on the counter this morning and it scared the shit out of me because I thought it was, like, a little container of piss at first, so I looked at it!" Ted admitted, gesturing over to the kitchen with his arm. Everyone in the room starts laughing, myself included. His logic makes no sense sometimes. "And then I saw you put it in your bag, so I know it's yours!"

"Imagine it was actually was a container of piss though. Like, sorry, I left it there." Joe jokes, grinning over at Tanner. "Yeah, sorry chat, I was saving it for later." Tanner continues the joke, laughter once again filling the room. "Man, we should start a podcast." My friends are an interesting pair, I tell ya. I was surprised to see Dan and Ted weren't phased by our strange humor. They seemed to fit right in our strange friend group.

Tanner got the first game up so we could test some of the types of minigames this series had to offer. We quickly realized the trivia ones weren't very fun for us, mostly because we didn't know what any of the answers were. Quiplash gave us some good laughs but got old very quickly, and Tee K.O. was fun, but the creativity didn't last. The ones that really entertained us were The Devil's And The Details, Talking Points, and especially FixyText. There was something about the more cooperative ones that were an absolute blast, especially if I was ever paired with Ted. We'd be pushing and yelling at each other whenever one was trying to stop the other from committing a selfish act in one game, then get close together and share the screens of our phones as we created the funniest text replies in another, snickering and whispering to each other to plan ahead. I think we really blew everyone away with our fake presentations, too. Whenever we were paired up for a game, we'd be inseparable. Sensational, even.

But as always, time is fated to pass and it eventually got rather late in the night. As the last awards of the night are given, I realize just how much closer I had gotten to Ted. I wasn't leaning on his shoulder or anything, but we were practically stuck side by side together with our knees up to our chest, sharing the award we were giving out. I could tell Ted was getting tired as his voice was the lowest I had ever heard it. It was kind of...hot, actually. Especially this close. Dan is the first to say goodnight and head upstairs, with Joe helping Tanner pack away the PC to bring upstairs as well. For a little while, it was just Ted and I.

On that couch.

In that living room.

Downstairs.

Alone.

"You look tired." I speak softly as I look at Ted, who had put his hood up earlier. I could see the subtle bags under his eyes from this close.

"You kept me up past my bedtime.." Ted muttered with a tired smirk, keeping his eyes on his phone. He was checking all of his social media for the night, switching from Instagram to Twitter. "I didn't mean to keep you up.." I chuckled a little, sticking my own phone into my baggy pockets. "You're a big boy, you can make your own decisions."

"I know, but you were staying up, so.." Ted sniffles to stifle a yawn, looking over at me as he wipes one of his eyes with his hand. "Your fault."

"My fault?"

"Mhmm.."

"It's my fault you chose to stay up with me?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"It sounds like you wanted to stay up with me, Teddy.." I shoot him a gentle grin, taking the opportunity to tease him. "I wanted..." Ted pauses to allow himself to yawn, stretching one arm out while covering his mouth with his free hand before continuing. "I wanted to make sure you'd lose."

"You wanted to make sure I'd lose."

"That's right."

"That's it?"

"That's about it."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Prolly not a whole lot..."

"I--fuck off, I think--" I let out a cackle, lightly smacking his shoulder. "I think you wanted to stay up with everyone, not just me."

"Not just you?"

"No."

"No?..."

He stops stretching and looks at his phone one last time to close Twitter, then slips his phone into his sweater pocket and turns his head again to look at me. Our eyes meet and the room goes quiet. Ted has this relaxed half-smile as he looks at me, his eyes subtly moving left to right to suggest he's looking at both of my eyes. I return the tired smile, taking the quiet moment to gaze into his earthy orbs. As our gazes stay fixed on one another, I can feel a pit of anxiousness grow in my stomach like a slow, blooming flower. He just admitted it, didn't he? He wanted to stay up for me, with me. I can't deny this any longer. Ted is...a very handsome looking man. I can't break my gaze away. I turn my body a bit more towards him to make my neck more comfortable. His eyes wander along my blushing cheeks. I wonder if his gaze would go any lower, but he returns his stare to mine. I shouldn't. I can't even find the willpower to say anything, but he isn't speaking either. He isn't speaking, he isn't teasing me, he's stopped teasing me. Why has he stopped teasing me? He's so...he's so...

"(Y/N)"

I hear my name come from Joe's voice, startling Ted and I a little. I look over the couch to see Joe standing at the stairs, giving me a knowing smirk. How long has he been standing there? I look at my phone and realize it's nearly midnight. We should all be going to bed. I look over at Ted again, but he's already off the couch, cleaning up the empty bottles and cups to the kitchen. Son of a bitch.

I get up to help clean up, as Ted missed a cup since his hands were full. "Hold on." I tell Joe, heading into the kitchen with Ted. It's all one big room, so Joe can still see Ted and I in the kitchen. As Ted's putting the bottles in the recycling, I start putting the cups in the sink. There's a moment where we both reach for the same cup and his hand slightly rests on top of mine. His hand is surprisingly colder than I anticipated. We look at each other and chuckle quietly, then Ted removes his hand so I could put the cup in the sink.

"Clearly I am fuckin' tired.." He mutters and looks at me with a tired smile. "Don't stay up so late next time.." I pester him a little, returning the smile as I move away from the sink.

"I probably will.."

"Right, and it'll be my fault, yeah?"

"It'll absolutely be your fault."

I roll my eyes at his response, not even making an effort to hide the blush on my cheeks.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"G'night, stinky.."

A little laugh slips out of me, finally joining Joe at the stairs. Before we're even out of Ted's sight, Joe is already badgering me about that exchange. He whispers in a criticizing tone, but I can barely hear him over our stepping until we get to the upstairs hallway.

"I literally told you. I literally told you not to flirt." Joe huffs, picking up his tone now that we were likely out of earshot. "No no no, you didn't tell me not to flirt." I shake my head and waggle my finger in Joe's direction. "You told me not to sleep with him, I'm not sleeping with him."

"That's not what it was about to look like." Joe's whisper becomes raspy, like he's quietly yelling at me.

"What do you mean?? I didn't start flirting, he did."

"Did you not feel how fucking close you two were the whole night? He looked like he was about to kiss you just now!"

I look over at the stairs, as if I'm able to look at Ted through them. I think about his eyes and his smile. God, his smile. His stupid smile. "He was?.." Once again, I find myself smiling. It seems I can't even hide these feelings from Joseph. Not sure why I thought I could, Joe's see's everything, especially if I'm involved. He may know me better than I know myself. He's my best friend.

He snaps his fingers in my face to wake me from my gaze, furrowing his brows at me in frustration. I let out a huff, shrugging my shoulders at him. I'm not going to dance around him anymore. I know he has good intentions, but I see him as a brother, not a father. "Well, so fucking what? What do you want me to say, that I think he's ugly?"

"I'd know you're lying to me."

"Exactly! What are you gonna do if it actually happens? I have to kiss him tomorrow anyways. If something else happens, it happens. I don't know what to tell you that'd make you feel better other than I'll be fine."

Joe takes a deep breath, turning his head away from me for a moment. I could see his thoughts through his body language. He was unsure at first, but a mischievous smirk began to take over his expression. I saw Protective Brother Joseph leave his body in favour of Gossiping Best Friend Joseph.

"...okay, you two would be pretty hot together."

I let out a louder laugh than I probably should've, quickly covering my mouth as Joe playfully shushes me. I know Joe just doesn't want me to get hurt, I acted the same way with him when he met his husband. We love each other like family. "But you have to promise me you'll tell me first if anything happens. I need the tea."

"Oh you know I will.." I grin at him, moving over to my door for the night.

"Night, Joe." "Night (Y/N)."

I enter my bedroom and plop right down on the bed, letting out a content sigh. I take out my phone to glance over social media one last time. I see Ted had posted a photo of the 5 of us earlier, and I see just how close I was to Ted. I take a screenshot of it and rest the phone down on my chest, unable to contain my smile. I giggle to myself, knowing what's coming. I fall asleep wondering if I'll be ready tomorrow. There's a very good chance I could freak out.

Turns out, we both might've been freaking out.

The morning comes and goes, mostly because some of us had slept in. By the afternoon, we're having to turn the lights down and close the blinds to simulate it being much later in the night. We've got a bunch of RGB lights and even a light-up disco ball on the ceiling to make it feel like a party. This is the first scene in which Ted and I will be sharing a kiss. I actually really like how the scene is set. Ted and I are sitting in a circle with a bunch of the extras playing Spin-The-Bottle. Of course, after a few spins, the bottle will be pointing for us to kiss. We have to act like we're nervous, which probably wasn't helping. When it came to filming the actual kissing scene, we had to sit down beside each other, turn our heads and kiss, but it had to be slow. We have to linger on it, really show the tension building up just for it to burst with that very first kiss.

But for nearly a whole hour, we couldn't do it.

Maybe it was all the extra eyes, maybe it was the weird angle we were at, I had no idea. Sometimes Ted would be ready and I'd mess up, sometimes I'd be ready and he'd mess up. It was a whole ordeal. I felt bad for everyone that was waiting for us to get this. No one appeared to be mad, but one kiss was taking over an hour. Even I'd start to feel a little frustrated if the leads couldn't wrap it up. We almost get it at one point, but I choke at the last second and start laughing, which makes Ted start laughing as well. He grabs my face and starts shaking me, chanting. "We have to kiss, (Y/N)! This is our job! You need to kiss me, God damnit! Look at my lips and kiss me!" We both were becoming hysterical, so much so that Tanner finally decided to call for a break. I was relieved, actually. As hard as I was laughing, I was embarrassed. I thought I'd be more prepared for this. Perhaps getting this comfortable with Ted was a mistake, now I can't do my job.

As everyone's leaving to grab lunch or touch up their hair and makeup, Tanner approaches Ted and I as we get up from the floor. I half expected him to encourage us to get the kiss over with in front of everyone, but he has a different idea. "Okay, this is going to sound insane, but hear me out..." Tanner begins, gesturing to the both of us. "I'm gonna get the camera rolling...and then I'm just gonna leave it there."

"Leave it there?" I ask, raising a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I just...I feel like all of the eyes watching are making this a little harder for you guys.." Tanner admitted, clasping his hands together. "I can bring another camera and go outside with everyone, I want you two to be comfortable. You can take your time and, yknow, Ted could look at the shot afterwards.." Tanner trails off, probably looking for a specific reaction out of either Ted or I. Ted didn't seem to mind the idea at all, looking over at me with a shrug. I look down at my shoes, sort of clicking them together. So Tanner wants Ted and I to kiss on camera...alone.

"But if you want to wait, we can film something else..." Tanner speaks up again, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Are you okay...?" Ted pauses, lightly touching my arm with one of his fingers, almost like he was...caressing me. I turn my head up to look at Ted, watching as he tilts his head. "....with that?"

"Yeah, I can do it this way." I finally answer, giving Ted and Tanner a smile. "He probably needs a refresher on how to kiss a woman anyways..."

Ted chuckles and shakes his head at me, though Tanner is satisfied with the answer. "Alright, I'll just set it up and give you two the reigns.." Tanner speaks, moving over to the camera. He adjusts a few things on it, then takes a step back and shoots us some finger guns. "Shout if you need me."

Ted and I watch as Tanner collects the rest of the team and brings them outside, watching one of the bigger crew members pick up an entire camera and hoist it on outside.

Now, it was just Ted and I.

In the living room.

Alone.

On camera.

"Alright, go sit where we were before, I'll make sure the camera's in focus.." Ted instructs, pointing over to the floor. I can't help but blush, only because It sounded like a command. I wonder if he's the type to talk you through it...

Stop it. It's just a kiss.

I go and sit back on the floor, criss-crossing my legs as I watch Ted fiddle with the camera. After a moment, he lets out a sigh and steps back. "Alright. You're in focus. It'll adjust to us." He speaks, coming over to sit next to me. I can feel my heart start beating out of my chest once he sits down. This is really happening. I know I have to do this for Tanner, I want to do it for Tanner, but it's...harder now. For some reason, it's harder now.

"If you want, we could just...talk first.." Ted spoke to me in a condecending tone. Our eyes meet once more and I get that same pit in my stomach that I had last night. No. I'm not gonna let him have this. He got me yesterday on that fucking pole, I'm getting him today. "We could...talk about last night.." I offered, shooting him a little grin. He cracks a smile, gliding the tip of his tongue along his top teeth briefly.

"You wanna get into this on camera?" Ted asks, nodding at me with am embarrassed little smile.

"What!? You're the one that offered to talk!" I start laughing, tilting my head at him mockingly. "You don't wanna kiss me, Teddy? You afraid to kiss me?"

"Fuck you."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"This film is going to fail because of you--"

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"and your--and your giant fucking ego."

"You don't wanna kiss me?"

"Are you done, princess? Are you fucking done?" Ted's swiveling his head in my direction to mock me back, a permanent grin on his face. "Shut your mouth, I'm comin' in."

"You're not doing shit! That's not the tell!"

"Hey."

"'Hey' what?"

"Hey."

"What?"

"Shut your mouth."

I raise both of my eyebrows at him and scoff. Before I can think of another sarcastic remark, he does it. His eyes wander down to my lips, lightly nibbling on the end of his own bottom lip, then he returns his gaze to mine. That's the tell. He's about to lean in, but I don't let him.

My body moves on its own, darting towards him so our lips could finally meet for the first time. All of the tension that had been building between us finally begins to melt as our lips continue to connect, slowly at first. It's not enough. I unravel my legs and sit up on my knees. Ted reacts by placing both of his hands on my waist, pulling me in closer to cause a breathy moan to escape into our kiss. My hands reach up to hold both of his cheeks, his glasses caressing my face as our lips caress each other's tenderly. I can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, my own warm blush making my breathing pick up. I can't pull away. It feels like his lips were meant to be attached to mine. I can feel his breathing on my chest, his stubble along the palms of my hands, his fingers gripping my lower back, his tongue gliding along his lower lip into mine, his cologne, the tension. The tension. All of it was making me stir crazy. His lips, his kiss, I could lose myself in him. I could truly lose it. I don't want to stop. I want to run my fingers through his hair, I want to bite his stupid lip, I want to be louder.

But we're on camera. Tanner's camera. We have to stop. I have to...

I'm the one to break the kiss, hearing a quiet pop and an airy moan from Ted in response. I connect my forehead with his for a brief moment, keeping my eyes closed until I pull away to look at him. The tip of his nose tickles mine, his hands still wrapped around my waist. We share a quiet moment, steadying our breathing. I don't even know if this kiss was supposed to be this heated, but it's what Tanner's getting. All he wrote was 'Kara and Mason kiss' in the script. He can work with this.

"...I think we got it.." Ted is the first to speak up, but he doesn't remove his hands from me just yet. I can't help but let out a laugh, leaning my head back for a moment. "What? What did I say?" Ted asks, smiling through his teeth.

"No no, I just..." I take a few breaths through my laughter, letting go of his face to wave my hand a little. "I-I think that's the quietest we've been together so far.."

"Oh yeah? We should probably get louder then.."

Now that. That is something I didn't think I'd hear out of Ted, certainly not to me. Did he forget we're supposed to be shooting a scene?

"Camera's still rolling, Teddy.."

"...FUCK!"

Ted nearly throws me off of him and struggles to get up to go turn off the camera. I'm absolutely killing myself laughing as I pick myself up off the floor. No way did the fucker forgot we were filming. He JUST said 'we got it'.

"You forgot!?"

"Can you cut footage on this!?"

"You fucking forgot! Oh my god, you sad fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ted laughs, trying to sound angry with me as he pauses the film on the camera. "Tanner's gonna see that!"

"Hell yeah he is! Great Job, Teddy! You sleazy mother fucker.."

"Me? Me!? He's gonna see you being a fucking slut!"

"Oh I'M the slut!? Really?!"

"Yeah!"

"Really!?"

"Yes!"

"Your hands on my fucking waist? I'M the slut!?"

"Your tongue in MY mouth!"

"You started with it!"

"I did fucking NOT! I felt yours first!"

"I felt YOURS first! YOU started with it!"

"Started with what?"

Tanner suddenly steps into the room, startling both of us. He must've just stepped in from outside, I didn't even hear him close a door. He's got no idea what we're yelling at each other about. "Have you guys kissed yet?"

Ted and I look at each other again as I struggle to contain my laughter. All I can do is nod, pointing in Ted's direction. "Ask him about it. It's on there." I manage to speak after a little while, walking passed them to head outside. I lightly touch my lips as I open the screen door to get outside. The last thing I hear is Tanner asking Ted about all the yelling, and a final huff from Ted himself.

Truthfully, I needed to head outside to compose myself. I could still feel his hands on my warm cheeks, placing my own hand on it to feel just how hot they had become. I couldn't believe he forgot he were filming, he seemed very into...all of that.

What would've happened if the camera wasn't there?

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 ||

#ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison #jschlatt #chuckle sandwhich #youtuber x reader #youtuber fanfiction #AllARomCom

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rinwritesfics · 1 year ago

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The Cabin

Plot: The day before Life Day, you and Wolffe are sent to a safehouse as you harbor feelings for each other.

Warnings: minor angst in the form of frostnip, a lead-in to sex but not full-on sex

Word Count: 2373 (I have no control, nor do I have any shame about this.)

Author’s Note: A fic for the Secret Santa Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange. @221bshrlocked, I really hope you like this! After reading the prompts, this wouldn’t get out of my head, and I’ve never been more of a Wolffe simp than I am now. The prompts are bolded.

This was the worst. You weren’t sure how you were assigned to this, but somehow, you were. And right before Life Day, no less. This planet felt like it was colder than the depths of space, despite it being impossible. But, as you looked at Wolffe, who was leading the two of you to a safe house for him no less, you started to wonder if it was possible.

The nice thing about being a civvie medic assigned to the army was the army seemed to take great care in the comfort of the civvie positions. But you could see they didn’t afford the troopers the same luxury. He was wearing his harsh weather kit, but it was thin. And if you were feeling a bit chilled, you couldn’t imagine how he was feeling as you both trekked through the blizzard.

“Keep up,” he said a bit gruffly through his helmet’s modulator, but the usual bite in his tone was lacking. Something was wrong.

“Commander.”

“Keep. Up.”

The bite was back, and worse than usual. Something was bothering him immensely, and it wasn’t you. You kept up as ordered.

He kept flexing his fingers as subtly as he could, but you caught it. It was in that action that your thoughts were confirmed. You had to move faster to get to shelter, before frostbite set in.

Commander Wolffe wasn’t one to bring to light his physical discomfort – even to you. According to General Plo, the commander listened to you more than any other medic. You figured it was probably because you were a civvie and not one of his brothers.

To your surprise, Wolffe turned back to you and let you catch up with him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken that tone with you,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the wind.

“No apology necessary, Commander. You’re right, we have to keep moving.” You nodded, then gently patted his arm, keeping pace with your previous speed. The cabin started to show not far from you and you both sped up as much as possible through the flakes as they pelted you both.

Inside the small cabin, it was cold and dark, but there was no draft inside which improved things. You flipped on the breaker box, then the water heater, and turned on a lamp beside one of the chairs in the main room. As you went to check how frozen the fireplace flue is, you noticed Wolffe was examining the modestly-furnished place, but shivering a little more than you were.

“Commander.”

“Almost done,” he grumbled, still inspecting the cabin.

“It’s fine. Come here.”

He spun around to you. “Excuse me?”

“I’m a medic, and right now, I have concerns about your health. The general sent me along to ensure your health and safety during this time, and I won’t let you freeze to death, especially on the first night.”

He sighed heavily through his modulator, then pulled off the helmet and scowled.

“Gloves next, please.”

“Why?” he barked, then seemed a bit cowed.

“Gloves, Commander,” you said in a tone with patience that was thinning.

He grumbled again, then started to pull off his damp gloves. It was difficult, so you stepped in to help. The tips of his fingers were starting to turn pink and you pulled off your gloves to touch his hands and examine them.

“Numbness giving way to pins and needles?” you asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said, his tone a bit quieter.

“Toes, too?”

“Just cold.”

“Bear with me here.” You gently took one hand between yours, enveloping his fingers as best you could. They were very cold, even to you. You hissed, then said in a concerned tone, “Wolffe, why didn’t you say h-how bad it is?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Well, now I’m extra worried. The water heater will take a while to warm up and I have to prep the cold flue for a fire. There are very few options to fighting back this frostnip of yours right away, and I don’t imagine the rest of the openings of your armor are much better off compared to what happened to your gloves.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

You added quietly, “Like hells you will. Go find some blankets and, I say this in the most professional way possible, strip off your damp clothing to wrap yourself in the blankets.”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised and eyes wider than usual, then turned away just as his cheeks showed a bit more color. Considering his cheeks were probably flushed from some of the chill already, you shut down the idea that coloring could have been a blush.

You dug through supplies in the cabinets, then found a hairdryer amongst other items, and started to try to warm up the flue enough it wouldn’t spit back smoke when you lit the fire. After a few minutes, Wolffe’s scoff sounded behind you, and you turned to him. He was bundled in a couple blankets, carrying a couple more with him.

“A hairdryer?” he asked, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

“Yes, Commander, you ever lit a fire in a fireplace that’s cold?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve seen it. It’s thermodynamics as the cold air sinks -”

He held up his hand and you stopped. “I get it.”

You nodded and turned back to trying to warm the flue. “How are you feeling? Your hands starting to warm up?”

“Not a ton, but things haven’t gotten worse.” He walked over to the water heater and huffed a sigh. He read out the temperature to you, one that was good enough, and you told him to grab a bowl and run the faucet before filling it. The heated water wouldn’t be at optimal temperature, but it would be better.

He turned to you and said as he filled the bowl, “Why couldn’t we use the electric stove to warm the water?”

You paused. “Kriff.”

He chuckled. “Suppose I could’ve thought of that, too. Honestly, the fact you thought about the flue temperature is impressive.”

“As a medic, they teach about survival as well as everything else. Guess something stuck.” You smiled a little, teasing yourself for the most part.

The kitchen faucet stopped, and he fumbled a bit with the bowl in the sink. You set down the hairdryer and came over to help him get it to the table. He grumbled a bit about it, but didn’t say anything definitive.

After, you put on a kettle to boil water for the cocoa you found earlier. You were aware as he watched you… well, like a wolf as you moved about he small cabin, getting hot cocoa set before him and going back to the fireplace.

You started a small fire shortly after, relieved when the smoke starts up the chimney and doesn’t come back down. Putting a couple logs in, you let the fire grow a bit before heading back to the dining table to check him.

“How are the fingers doing?”

“Better,” he said quietly. Something else was bugging him, as the clipped, gruff tone was back.

“So what’s bothering you?”

He grumbled nonsense.

“Commander,” you said sternly.

He huffed. “I should be the one getting the fire going.”

“Why?”

“I’m the commander. I shouldn’t just be sitting and doing nothing.”

“Wrong. You’re under strict orders from the medic to get better. You’re healing. Commander, frostnip isn’t child’s play – it can cause actual damage, if I may remind you.”

“Well, don’t remind me,” he bit out, then looked ashamed.

“I know I’m not one of your brothers, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you suffer.”

He grumbled, “You’re a medic. Course you don’t want to see suffering.”

“It’s not just that, Commander. The 104th matters to me almost like family, okay?”

He looked up at you, a bit surprised.

“I know, I get it, I’m civvie-born. Or, what was it Comet called it…?”

“Nat-born,” Wolffe said quietly.

“Right, that. Not fond of that term because of how it reflects on you boys.” You grumble a bit, causing him to smile. “Anyway, I’m not like you boys, but I still care.”

Wolffe’s mouth dropped open, cheeks flushing a bit again.

“You okay, Commander?”

“Y-yeah.”

You look at him with concern.

“I’m fine,” he growled, then stood up from the table, leaving the bowl behind, then sitting on the couch.

You walked over to him and sat beside him. “Commander, if something is wrong, I need to know.”

“Alright, alright….” He sighed. “But don’t laugh at me.”

You nod and wait.

“I think… I think I love you,” he said softly.

Your mouth dropped open. “Y-you do?”

He nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Look, I know I’m your commander technically, but I couldn’t help it. You’re so kriffing persistent, in my brain all the time. Thinking about your smile, your laugh, how it would feel to kiss you in the snow….”

You smiled softly. “Commander….”

He looked at you, the pleading in his eyes catching you off-guard, as did the slight wince as he prepared for the worst.

You whispered, “Wolffe….”

The worry in his eyes vanished, replaced with hope.

“I… I have feelings for you, too.”

He sat up, then gently took your cheek in his hand. “Mesh’la… I want to kiss you.”

You nodded, then leaned forward and your lips brushed his. He cupped the back of your head in his free hand and he pulled you into the kiss. You both got lost in the kiss, letting the time you’ve gone apart melt away as you make up for it all. All the pain and longing disappear, leaving warmth and love behind in their wake. Eventually, you both pulled apart to breathe. He welcomed you into the blanket cocoon he had, holding you against his half-naked body. You blushed, but wrapped your arms around him anyway as you shared the blankets.

Wolffe softly said, “I know it’s a little early, but I think I got what I wanted for Life Day.”

“Oh, did you?” you laughed softly.

He nodded, a smile on his face. “I get to be with you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about the possibility of us for a while, now.”

You smiled shyly. “Yeah? You wanted me for Life Day?”

He smiled softly. “In a way. It’s not a holiday song type of wish since you’re a person and not an object….”

You laughed. “That’s okay. I want to be yours, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded.

“I want to kiss you again.”

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

His lips were warm compared to what you were expecting and you responded almost immediately. His hands rested on your waist and you moved closer to him.

He pulled back a little, then grinned. “I can think of a way that we can warm up more.”

“Why, Commander, what are you proposing?” you asked teasingly, then your breath hitched as his hand moved to the middle of your hip.

“Would it be too fast, or have we been pining long enough?” he asked in a dizzyingly gruff tone. This time, it was mixed with a bit of lust.

You grinned. “Pining long enough.”

He leaned in again, smiling, then kissed you, this time more passionately. The two of you leaned back on the couch, with you looking up at him, and he gripped your hip a bit tighter. His other hand, still a tad chilly, started to slide under your shirt, causing you to gasp softly into his mouth. He took the opportunity to kiss you open-mouthed, then move his hand higher.

“This okay?” he whispered into the kiss.

“Yes,” you whispered back. His lips were so intoxicating and you arched your back as his fingers traced closer to your breast. They finally landed over your bra and he started to caress the first curve. The touch was muted by the fabric still between you and you pulled back from the kiss to slip off your shirt and your bra. His eyes widened as he looked down at you, fingers gently touching the swell of your breast again.

“Wow,” he said appreciatively. “All for me?”

“Always has been,” you said softly back, causing a guttural groan from him, one that made your thighs clench. “Are we really doing this, Wolffe? Are you sure I’m the one you want?”

He nodded. “Yes. And something tells me General Plo planned on this happening, otherwise he wouldn’t have sent us alone.”

“Remind me to get him a gift basket when we’re back at the Venator,” you chuckled.

“Will do. Now, I want to show you how much I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You grinned, then pulled him back down into a kiss, ready for a long night of love and passion in front of the warm fire.

Bonus!:

The next morning, the blizzard finally calmed down, making it safe to step outside into the light flurries. You grinned at Wolffe and pulled him outside, both of you fully dressed in the clothes that dried by the fire. It was still chilly and the flakes immediately stuck to his hair, but you didn’t care. You pulled him to your lips and kissed him, surprising him. It wasn’t a big gift, but it was a start.

Pulling back after the long kiss, he grinned. “What is this all about?”

“You’d said you wanted to kiss me in the snow, so I thought I might make that a reality.” You smiled back.

The chuckle that escaped him was just as warm as the love you made last night. “Oh, mesh’la. That’s not what I quite meant. I meant playing in the snow and kissing you.”

“Why not both?” You bent down and scooped up some snow, throwing it at his chestplate. His eyes widened in mischief.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked slyly.

“Will it get me kissed?” you tease.

He growled playfully and you knew you were in for it.

“Happy Life Day, Wolffe.” You grinned.

“Mm, happy Life Day, cyar’ika.” He grinned back before he got you back for the snowball.

#tcw wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone fic gift exchange #lde23

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littleplantfreak · 4 months ago

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~Mari's 100 Follower Event~

Hi! I made it to 100 followers which is quite the feat y'know. So although I don't normally take requests I figure it'd be refreshing to try it out! I'll just cut it off at 15 requests (if I even get that many lol) and I'll post to let everyone know when I've reached that number. Otherwise I'll just end it on Monday with however many I get.

Here's the do's, don'ts, and won'ts!

My blog is primarily Wind Breaker, so although it's silly for me to have to say, I'd like to be safe and specify that currently it's only for Wind Breaker characters

I can write for any character, but I don't excel in all of them and if it's one I'm not used to writing, it may take time (please be patient with me I'm so slow even with normal writing)

I can write SFW and NSFW and I'm pretty fine with most kinks (except for maybe scat, incest, or something extremely non-conish. Dubcon is new for me to write but I can try my best)

I don't really feel comfortable writing too much about self harm, miscarriage, other kinda sensitive topics like that, because I don't always have the ability or experience to properly handle them. If there's one you want to ask about though, by all means ask because i may not know if I can write it until you tell me what you're looking for.

I can do either headcanons or just plain writing a scenario/scenes/fic/drabble. If you don't have a preference I'll just pick whichever seems like it'll work for that specific prompt.

If you can't think of anything to request, you could always ask for a sequel to something I've already written or with characters i haven't done that prompt for before. Or you can get on my ass to finish something I've talked about writing but have been procrastinating >_>

I'm always up for AUs.

You could also just bring up something about a character and I'll yap about them if that's want you want. If you didn't already know from following me, I never shut up.

Oh! If you're asking for headcanons please limit the characters to 5 maximum and if it's a longer writing piece maybe 3 max. Otherwise it'll take me too long to go through everyone else's requests :(

I'll have a special tag I keep this event stuff in, and it'll be linked in the masterlist as well.

If there are similar requests, I might pair them up

Sorry I wrote so much! And thank you guys for being so sweet and awesome all the time. You really make it tons of fun to write and chat here, so even if you don't have a request, my DMs and inbox are always open!

#mari's events #i think thatll be it #and before you ask? i absolutely meant to use that gif its fucking hilarious to me #if theres typos here? idc im tired bro #its my birthday and im taking my sister and her friend to nyc so ill be not here most of the day #im getting XLB tho so even though its not MY birthday celebration its still good im so in love with food

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suosteacup · 5 months ago

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🌸 Age in bio (or anywhere accessible/visible in your blog) to interact. Ageless blogs, blank and empty blogs and porn bots are automatically blocked on sight.

🌸 Ageless blogs and blank blogs, please refrain from reblogging my nsfw pieces and/or reblogs.

🌸 For followers uncomfortable with sm*t/nsfw stuff, kindly block the tag #kitty☆thirsts along with the usual fandom nsfw tags (such as #haikyuu smut, #jujutsu kaisen smut, etc).

🌸 Minors 14 years old and below are refrained from following me but are still allowed to interact (strictly sfw only). Minors 15 years old and above, on the other hand, are now allowed to follow me though you have to abide by my blog dni/byf (particularly blocking the sm*t/nsfw tags). If—IF!!!—I see you liking, commenting, and even reblogging with my content (also reblogs) that have the tag ‘kitty☆thirsts’, I will (unfortunately and sadly) block you 😊 /gen

🌸 I don’t accept requests (writings) unless it’s for an art ask game/event. All my writings are purely self-indulgent and written with a female reader in mind (but I’m trying to write fics for gender-neutral readers, too). Thirsts and brainrot (fluff and sm*t) are okay though (applicable for Haikyuu/Blue Lock/Wind Breaker characters only) but please no sc*t, w*terw*rks, ch*king… or anything in between (I forgot my hard no’s oh noes 😭 I should’ve written them down before when I sent an nsfw event ask to a moot 🤦🏻‍♀️).

🌸 All the characters depicted in my writings (sfw or nsfw) are either aged-up or canonically post timeskip (unless otherwise noted). I do not write underaged characters in an nsfw setting/scenario—that’s a big no-no here.

🌸 Please don’t hesitate to use tone indicators when replying/sending asks/DMs and reblogs/answering the taglist form to be made soon(!!!!!), else I wouldn’t know if you’re joking or not (in case I don’t see any emoji enclosed). /g

🌸 This blog interacts with and supports DC blogs/writers/content creators and may share some dark content, so reader discretion is strongly advised. Proper tw/cw’s will be tagged accordingly.

🌸 DNI if: racist, ableist, sexist, have a hatred towards the LGBTQIA+ community, have a hatred towards DC writers and blogs, participated in character hate night, blogs who spam-like posts jfc (depends on the blog), bully other Tumblr blogs jfc (doxxing other people and sending anon hate), people who always assume/misunderstand other people’s actions/sayings, plagiarizing other people’s work AND/OR reposting my and other artists’ art!!! (without permission AND credit), people/blogs who lie about their age!!!, Islamophobic, pedophile/creep, blogs sending real sugar daddy/baby asks/comments/DMs. Also don’t be rude! :)

※ If you have other queries, please don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or DM and I will gladly help you! *headpats*

#kitty☆trail #blog rules #don’t rb #dni/byf #please follow 🙇🏻‍♀️

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mit0bee · 7 months ago

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𝕄𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕒 (@𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕖)

"If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same damn miles I do!"

hi! im melora or mitobe! i write smaus or short-form fics for some fandoms 🎀

𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕤

Heres my masterlist!

I'll pretty flexible with my fandoms, so even if you don't see your desired fandom, you can send an ask and I might write it!

Twisted Wonderland

Obey Me!!!/Obey Me!!! Nightbringer

Jujustu Kaisen

Honkai Star Rail

Genshin Impact

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Dungeon Meshi

Wind Breaker

Bungo Stray Dogs

One Piece

ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤

Please read my rules before sending an ask!

I will not write:

Yandere

character x character ships (unless one of those characters is an oc)

x reader with people under 16 (Luke, Ortho, Bailu ect.)*

x reader smut with people under 18 (Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, ect.)

* I do not care if the character is "above 16/18 lore-wise". If they look/act like they are under my age criteria, I will not write it!

Other than that, I'm pretty open to any other requests! Have fun!

#!🌸melora talks #obey me x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #twst x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #jjba x reader #jojos bizzare adventure x reader

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etherati · 10 months ago

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Taproot - (1/25)

To celebrate finally finishing this monster of a fic after 4 goddamned years, I'm going to be posting the full chapters here on Tumblr, serialized like in the olden days, to make it easier to digest a bit at a time. Expect an installment once a week. This is a sequel to Wellspring, and is a post-S2 AU with, at this point, established Trephacard--plus some historical flashbacks, family drama, bloody showdowns, and a lot of secrets waiting in the wings. And feels. All the feels. If you like those things--or, for reasons I cannot disclose at this time, dear old Leon Belmont--consider giving this one a spin.

Summary from Ao3:

Taproot (n): The oldest, most central root; that from which all else arises.

Every family has its roots, diving down into the shadowy, secretive earth--and there's no such thing as a bloodless inheritance.

🎵 Music pairing: The Old Ways - Loreena McKennitt

Next -- >

Sunrise over the Black Sea—golden light spilling into the water like its own sort of glowing, glittering liquid, diffusing through the brine and illuminating it in hues of orange and amber and violet-pink—is one of the most beautiful sights the natural world has to offer. There are other striking sunrises to be had, and other bodies of water prone to making a person feel overwhelmingly small, but nowhere else do the two combine into such a spectacle, delighting the eyes even as it harrows the soul.

At least, nowhere else that Sypha has been, and she has been a lot of places.

She twists the end of her walking stick into the damp sand and gravel. This means that she’s close; she can tell by the particular mineral-laden smell of the salt and the angle of the light that she’s still a bit north of Enisala, but not by very far. There’s no shame in having arrived at the sea slightly off from her target. The only truly accurate navigation is by the stars—and the lingering presence of the night creatures and the winter’s bitter chill have had her travelling mostly with the sun.

Overhead, the keening cries of shorebirds as they dip and weave, coming in low to gather at the waterline, to pick over the tide pools and sandbars. The breakers beat the rocky shore, relentless. There’s a stark beauty to the place, to the way life struggles forward despite its days being filled only with further struggle. Tenacity. Tenacity, she understands, and all the spoils it brings.

This would be a lovely place to bring Adrian and Trevor to, she thinks; let them see this dawn, let the three of them roughhouse in the waves and drink sweet fruit wine in the sun and make love in the cool, damp sand once twilight settles in, all softness and blue-black shadows and the murmur of the tide. When the weather is warmer. When the sea is greener than it is grey, and the wind coming off of it doesn’t threaten to peel the skin from her face and hands. When they feel safe, leaving the castle unguarded for a while.

That time is, with certainty, not yet now. But she’s working on it. She’s still not gotten used to travelling alone, honestly hopes she won’t ever have to, but sometimes needs must. And that’s the entire point of this, of having to be away from them for so long.

She misses them—misses her family, too, but that’s an old ache that she’s grown accustomed to. Missing Adrian and Trevor is a different kind of hurt, sharp and fresh, made worse by knowing how badly they’re missing her in return. When she was growing up, travelling constantly on journeys measured in seasons, a month had felt like nothing. Now, it feels like an eternity.

There’s no snow and ice out here, this close to the water; there never is, in her experience, until you get to the deep, deep north. The sand is wet and the coarse stone crushed into it grinds under her staff. It’s blunt and thick, as writing implements go, and there’s no way to get any detail—and anyway, she’s no artist.

She still leaves a chunky, lopsided heart in the sand, as if marking the spot to return to later—as if the waves won’t wash it away mere hours after she’s left this place.

The sun is high overhead by the time the crumbling stone fortress of Enisala comes into view on the horizon. It feels wonderful, even if winter sun never warms one through the same way summer sun does; she drops her hood to bask in it, shifting her pack on her shoulders.

The ruins themselves are all beige-grey rock, the sky even more devoid of color, stormy and brooding. As she gets closer, though, she can see little pops of color all around the perimeter of the old fortress—blanket-draped caravans, colorful paper lanterns, artifacts of every culture the trains have come into contact with over the past year. Anything to make the space lively.

This place has always felt oddly significant to her—with its ruins that no one will claim ownership over, that seem to belong only to themselves, like slumbering giants from the birth of the world. Really, anywhere on the eastern edge of a landmass would do, for the Speakers’ winter solstice celebrations. But this is where her family group has always come, and so she knows she will find them here. For a week on either side of the solstice, many trains gather here in the sprawl of the mysterious ruins, and they eat and dance and share stories, all the stories of the year before, and Sypha knows she has a few that will make even the elders jealous.

She smiles to herself, framing the narrative in her head as she sets off down the narrow, meandering path to the gathering below.

“Sypha!” a familiar voice calls out, along with the clatter of scattered and dropped firewood; she’s barely made the edge of camp, is still lost in thought, but that voice would snap her out of just about anything.

“Kiri,” she oofs out, as the woman barrels into her, catching her up in a crushing embrace that’s more robes than anything else—layers and layers of them, to keep out the damp chill. Sypha hugs back just as hard; she’d been expecting her family and the others, the ones she’d watched leave Greşit all those months ago and then had to say farewell to again late in the spring. She hadn’t been expecting Kiri, Kiri who knows all her secrets and remembers what she looked like when she was young enough to go about with her hair unshorn, who she spent more time with growing up than she did her own family—throwing rocks into rivers and climbing trees and playing rough games with the boys. Testing every limit, challenging every rule, pushing for every wild dream.

Kiri, who’d been away from their clan for at least three years now, off studying the healing arts with the Ottoman scholars in the east when their own collective knowledge had proved insufficient for her. Three years that now feel like nothing—and isn’t it odd, how the friends of childhood are so often forgotten when the demands of adult life catch up, but the body never forgets what it’s like to hold them?

“I’m so glad you made it,” Kiri says, her face buried in Sypha’s hair. “My first Solstice back with our people and you weren’t here! I was getting worried.”

“What, did you think I would miss it?” Sypha asks, faux indignation through her own laughter. “Never.”

“Well, I’ve been told that you have your hunter, now,” Kiri says, pulling away, a sudden swell of distance blooming between them. No wonder—too often, Speakers who marry outside the tribe never quite find their way back. She and Trevor hadn’t been that to each other the last time she’d seen her family, had just been circling ever closer without quite making contact, but fair assumptions could be, and often were, made. “And your sleeping soldier?”

“Mm, yes,” Sypha says; it’s been a long time since she’s thought of Adrian that way, though he’s never stopped fighting for them. “But this is important, being here. And seeing everyone again! How have your studies been?”

Kiri’s eyes flash with excitement, bright against the wind-bitten redness of her cheeks; her skittishness evaporates in an instant. “It is incredible, Sypha! The things they know, in the south—the things they’ve kept track of, that others have forgotten. There is a book one man there has written on how to repair a person as if they were a torn garment or a broken wagon. It’s remarkable.” Adrian probably has a copy of that, somewhere in his mother’s medical library—if not, she’ll have to remember to track one down. “I understand why we do not record our stories, but after three years there, I wonder if we are foolish to not record knowledge itself? Raw knowledge I mean, the kind that is hard to frame in the context of a story.”

My people are idiots, she remembers saying, during that

interminable stay in the Belmont hold; she’s usually more inclined to be generous, but there’d been an infectious kind of frustration and cynicism they’d all been fighting, after a certain point.

“I’ve wondered that, too,” she says now, far more diplomatic; the journey has done her outlook a lot of good. “About an entirely different body of knowledge! Not something that would be as useful as the medicine you’re learning, but yes—if having something written down can save a life, how can that be wrong?”

“Don’t let the elders hear you say that!” Kiri admonishes, laughing.

Sypha blows a dismissive breath through her nose. “I am sure they already think I’m a terrible member of our tribe, just for raising a hand against the enemies of humanity. I cannot imagine their opinion of me can get much worse.”

Kiri throws an arm over her shoulder, pulls her in. “It’s not that bad,” she says, trying to be encouraging, but there's a tension there. “Our Sypha, the warrior of Wallachia. But I always knew you were destined for something special.”

Sypha frowns in thought, takes a few steps in silence. Did you? She wants to ask, and she wants to ask, Why?

Destined. Destiny is too large an idea, is the sort of thing that hovers around other people, people with remarkable families, with mysterious pasts. Sypha is a magician like any other Speaker magician; her father was the same, and his mother before him, and there is nothing unusual about any of it. These things run in families, and magic users are common, and sure, she'd gotten herself sucked up into an epic story because of it, but it could as easily have been another.

Couldn't it have?

Would another scholar of magic have done just as good a job? Would another magician have melded into the team as well as she did, have communicated in battle so effortlessly, have picked up the slack the other two dropped and protected them when they needed it? Could just any magician have snatched Dracula’s castle out of the aether like it was a feather on the breeze?

Would another Speaker have tossed aside the principles of a lifetime to stand up and fight, or is there really something dark and burning in her that sets her aside?

If there is, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Is that even the question to be asking?

“...how does it feel, to fulfill a prophecy?” Kiri asks, as they start to make their way toward the rest of the camp. It’s clear from the suddenly uncomfortable undercurrent in her voice that she’s not talking about the whole killing Dracula part; that story, her family has already heard, and it’s surely made the rounds. No—she’s talking about the rest of the prophecy. The part that’d had Sypha so uneasy clambering down into the catacombs and so defensive when she awoke there in the face of a hunter; the part that she’d like to believe any random magician would not have been able to fulfill.

“Strangely?” Sypha says, pitching her voice low. “Like I did have a choice in the matter.”

“Truly? You did not feel fate’s hand pushing the issue?” A pause, a few scuffing steps in the snow. Then, carefully: “Or another hand entirely?”

And oh, Sypha understands why her old friend is concerned, understands all too well given the way the world has sometimes treated their people. How non-Speaker men have often regarded them—worldly and experienced and incapable of ever saying no, as if rejection of the church’s self-loathing, oppressive morality somehow made them into succubi. But the implication is so absurd in context that she still laughs, conspiratorial. “No. My God. I had to push them. I thought I was going to go crazy.”

A smile then, more genuine. The tension drains out of the arm across Sypha’s shoulders. “What kind of heroic warriors are they, if they’re not fighting for the hand of maiden fair?”

“In what world, I wonder, would I be considered a fair maiden?” Sypha asks, smiling despite herself. Her robes are ragged with wear, her hair recently chopped short again, her feet swathed in cloth bandages beneath her sandals to keep out the cold. Fair indeed. But she knows that society outside of their caravans frames the world in certain ways. “And they were fighting with me, not for me.”

“Still. Most would expect some sort of reward for saving the world—even if only from fate.”

Sypha shakes her head, remembering that sunrise through the castle doors, the way they’d all started drifting apart before she’d pulled them back together. Those first few hours of having no idea what to even do with themselves, in this tomorrow that they hadn’t expected to see. “We were all shocked to still be alive, in the end. I imagine that would be reward enough for anyone.”

Kiri looks to her feet, swallows. They walk in silence for a moment. It had, perhaps, been unfair to go into such dark territory—to invoke how close they’d all come to dying that night. But these are the stakes Sypha has gotten used to, the way she’s become accustomed to thinking of the world. Speakers don’t fight; they are always in danger from those who don’t understand them, but that is a danger that brings itself to one’s door. The memory of choosing to walk across an enemy’s threshold, certain she would not ever cross it again, is uniquely hers.

“If you met them,” she says, gently bringing the topic back around, “you would understand. They honestly are good men. They understand what trust and respect are.” And they have enough baggage to fill an entire wagon, between them both, but that’s not for her to say. She’s not so dense as to think that they’d been dragging their feet just to frustrate her. “They do respect me, and I had to do nothing extraordinary to earn it—only what I’m truly capable of. We are equals.”

“Enough so that they trusted you to make this journey alone,” says a voice from her other side, mild and gentle, and Sypha turns without thinking, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms.

“My angel,” he says, stroking her hair, and as it always does, the endearment makes her heart clench up a little around something—something hard and painful, like a rock in her chest, that she has never understood.

She huffs a laugh against his robes, pushes through it. “It was more a matter of whether I trusted them to survive a month without me.” Kiri laughs then, and her grandfather does too, and it warms her to know, with this kind of certainty, just how lucky she really is.

“…and it was in this way that the houses were joined, the scorched land of one family and the usurped fortress of their oldest enemy, and from the ashes of tragedy and loss and centuries of discord arose the hope of an unexpected and brilliant future.”

A long silence, broken up by the crackle of logs in the fire, by the quiet rustle of voices from elsewhere in the camp. There’s no need to pronounce the end of a story here, not if one is half decent at telling it; Sypha knows that they are just letting it sink in.

“A remarkable story, more so even than the first telling, which we have all heard,” one of the elders says, one she isn’t familiar with. In front of the old woman’s feet, a pair of young children are still staring raptly at Sypha. The elder’s voice is warm, pleased. “It will be quite a thing to add to our memory stores. And quite a thing to know that one of our own played a role, in such a difficult time for our country.”

“One of ours, one of Dracula’s, and one of their own that they threw out,” says a young man a few places to Sypha’s left; his voice carries the twist of a smile. “I wonder how the church must feel, in the face of such irony.”

And oh, that’s a thought that has given Sypha much satisfaction over the last year—to be a fly on the wall when the heads of the church met to discuss what had happened!—but the old woman frowns. “I imagine they feel as though they nearly caused the extinction of all human life in Wallachia,” she says, a touch sharp. “Perhaps that is enough?”

One of the children at her feet giggles, a Look who’s in trouble kind of sound, and the man ducks his head. But he’s not in trouble. That isn’t how they do things. “Pardon me, Elder,” he says, “but I disagree. That they made a horrible mistake is knowledge that can fade or be downplayed over time. That they were saved by the very people they ostracized and cast out—that carries weight that cannot so easily be shrugged off. Even if we cannot share this with the rest of the people of Wallachia, that lesson should at least be preserved.”

Because it is about hubris as much as it is about blame, she can remember saying, after that first meeting they’d had with Acasă’s strange new church. Blame can be washed away with a convincing enough apology, and hubris will make the same mistakes over and over again. Both must be undermined if any progress is to be made.

It had been a hard sell. Adrian tends to want to place blame if only to have something to aim all of his anger and sadness at, now that he’s allowed himself to start navigating them; Trevor only wants the world to feel more just than it is. But in the end she’d brought them around: more needs to be done than to just rub the church’s nose in the mess it’d made.

Which is why they’d agreed, in the end, for her to finally tell the story in its entirety—nothing masked or obfuscated, no details left aside. Only for her people’s ears; a closed telling, a rarely invoked practice used when the full story needs preserving but would put the participants in danger, should it get out into the general populace. The people of Acasă are just now starting to truly accept Trevor for who he is; tolerating a witch and a vampire is a bit much to expect of them, just yet.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she says now, “as a participant in the story? I agree. How this was ended, and by who, is just as important as who started it in the first place. There are lessons in both of those things."

The elder regards her for a long moment, thoughtful. Then nods, just a tiny dip of her face into the firelight. “Very well. This story will sit alongside the previous version. The nature of Wallachia’s saviors is to be preserved, as a means of emphasizing the church’s shortsightedness and the need for it to not repeat that mistake.”

Sypha nods deeply, a long and slow dip of her head nearly to her knees. “My thanks, Elder. May your tribe live happily and well, in the coming year.”

“And yours.”

The crowd disperses, some going to hear or tell other stories, some retiring to their caravans for the evening meal. One figure stays nearby, hunched over a nearby fire, close enough to have heard her telling but not actually part of the group receiving it. In the fading light, the shape is just that: a shape, a silhouette, blue-black against the blue-white of the snow, limned in the cold violet light of sunset. They have a branch in their hands, are stripping it of its side-shoots methodically, tossing them one by one into the fire.

It’s a silhouette Sypha would know anywhere.

“What stories have you to tell,” Sypha asks, settling down alongside her, the ritualistic question feeling strange in her mouth, “since this time last year?”

Kiri huffs a laugh. “None as exciting as yours. You’re a hard act to follow, Sypha.”

“You seemed excited about all the knowledge you’d gained, earlier.”

Twist, pull, snap. “That’s nothing, compared to having a grand destiny.”

“I still say that destiny is too strong a word. We basically fell down a hole.”

“Directly into the vault of Greşit’s sleeping soldier. At precisely the time the three of you were most needed. That sounds like kismet to me.”

Sypha can’t help but laugh, remembering. “It felt more like incredible clumsiness, from where I was standing.”

“Falling.”

“From where I was falling, yes.”

A stretch of quiet, then, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“So,” Kiri says after a while, tossing an entire handful of twigs into the flames. There’s a smile on her face but the firelight has turned it bitter, all shadows and edges. “Your soldier is a vampire.”

“Dhampir, really,” Sypha corrects, kneejerk. For so long, it’d been Trevor she was correcting, then after a while, Adrian himself; she’s used to being quick on the draw with it, because either of them saying vampire had generally been a sign of badness brewing.

Kiri breaks another few twigs free from the branch, twists them in her fingers. “I don’t know what that means.”

Right. Of course she doesn’t. “It means his mother was human.”

“Oh,” Kiri says, seemingly still not sure what to do with this information. “I knew that, I guess. From the story itself. I didn’t realize the distinction mattered.”

“Yes, it… it matters. A great deal. I do not think a true vampire would have ever sided with humanity.”

"Still. I wonder if I would have been able to guess, had we met in the summer instead of the winter."

Sypha plucks at the scarf around her neck, the wool scratchy but warm, dyed in a hundred vibrant colors. It’d come from the market in Acasă, knitted by an old blind woman, and had been a gift—gratitude for the work they’d done securing the town against the demon attacks. They had saved her son’s entire family, and gone home that night and celebrated it, a battle with no casualties save the demons themselves. She’s wearing it because of the cold, but she knows what Kiri is asking. "Perhaps."

A huff of breath. “So much for your gentle warriors.”

“You would probably be surprised,” Sypha says with a shrug, not even bothering to take offense on Adrian’s behalf, because she can tell this isn’t what Kiri’s actually upset about. Some people compare words to weapons, and it’s truer than they know; you can dodge and feint and mislead with them as well as you can with steel. “But that isn’t—Kiri. What’s going on?”

For a long moment, no reply. The fire cracks and pops, splitting the wood apart in a spattering of sparks. Kiri throws the whole branch into it like a spear, a hard burst of frustration.

“Taerna married, this summer,” she finally says, the words quiet.

That stops Sypha cold, her fingers poised in mid-reach for a branch of her own. She curls them back up around the empty air, feels the nails bite into her palm. “She always said she would wait for you.”

“Why should she have bothered? We were only friends.”

“You were more than that.”

“She married,” Kiri repeats, short, face tightening as if to hold something inside. “Like all of my friends and sisters did. Marriage and children and… it’s all anyone does. We had plans. We were going to, to travel, and she was going to hunt our food and I was going to heal people and we were going to see the world together. But this is the only life anyone seems to care about.”

And even you’re going down that path, Sypha can hear, unsaid. You and your prophecy, your exiled hunter and your inhuman soldier.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes a breath. “She cares about you.”

“She also cares about her hound.”

“She loves you,” Sypha says, insistent.

Kiri laughs, bitter, tears threatening. It’s like watching an old dam crumble, flawless limestone threading through with cracks and stress fractures, and then: an outrushing of things held back for far too long. “Not enough,” she says, curling forward over herself, arms tight around her belly. “Not more than she loved the idea of having a child. Not enough to be with me.”

“Oh, Kiri. I’m sorry,” Sypha says, threading an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in. “I’m sorry.”

“Do yours love you?” Kiri asks after a moment, muffled by the layers of robes. “Enough to change the world, to defy everything for you?”

Sypha thinks about Trevor punching Dracula in a ridiculous, suicidal attempt to keep him away from her, thinks about Adrian in her garden, enduring the sun to make her happy—about a castle and a watchtower and the ending of the story she’d told, and her grasp on her friend tightens. “They do. And each other.”

A laugh into her shoulder, rough and wet. “I’ve always thought it would be terrible, to be involved in a prophecy,” she says, barely audible. “I never thought I’d be so jealous.”

There’s a stream that runs past the ruins, a narrow but swift-moving current that cuts through the ground here like a knife. It leads into the tough, gnarled pines and firs that grow this close to the sea, into these dark and uninviting woods that are nevertheless filled with a thousand secret places.

Sypha follows it, as she always has, year after year.

Things are different, this year.

She finds them by the water, bundled up and talking quietly. There’s a fire burning, but it’s been banked and allowed to subside down to embers, giving off heat but very little light. In the heavily filtered winter moonlight, they look like faery folk—Arn with his delicate, dignified features, Lily with the luminescent white bone beads threaded into hair the color of pitch, both of them beautiful and earnest.

They look up when she steps closer, their faces dark, shadowed. Painfully anxious.

She sits down on the ground, near to them, facing them. She is just as filled with anxiety. She has never done this, has no idea how to approach it—she knows they are not being blindsided like Kiri was, knows they have had time to adjust to the idea of this, but all she can see is her old friend’s face, broken up in grief over a friend-love she—and everyone else—had thought was something more. For once in her life, Sypha cannot find the words.

Then Lily smiles, the brilliant, passionate smile Sypha remembers, and holds out her hands, and Sypha lets herself fall into the woman’s arms, nearabout crushing her in the embrace.

“It’s all right,” she whispers, against Sypha’s ear. “You’ve found your loves. It was always bound to happen to one of us.”

Sypha nods against her, feeling the tears welling up. Turns to embrace Arn, the familiarity of his touch painful in this context, in knowing what she has to do.

“Are you set to marry?” Arn asks, quiet, solemn.

Sypha shakes her head. “I haven’t brought up the subject yet. There are a lot of complications—no human establishment would ever welcome us. But...”

“But you would like to.”

“Yes.”

“Will you come back to us then, for the ceremony?” Lily asks, and her voice sounds like the fear of paths diverging, not knowing if they will ever converge again. “Or even just to visit? You know there are none here who wouldn’t welcome all of you—or if there are…”

“Lily will convince them to change their minds,” Arn finishes for her, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes Lily’s hand. “Of course. I could not stay away for long. And you can always visit us—we’ll have a lot of space, once we rebuild.”

Visiting, seeing old friends: it’s not the same, won’t ever be the same. And sometimes things change, and people change and what they are to each other changes. But these two were always dear friends first and foremost, and that will never—can never—be any different. She gathers them both into her arms, and it’s a sweet, comfortable place to be.

“Please tell me,” Arn whispers into her hair after another long moment, “that Belmont at least bathes regularly, now?”

And like that, the seriousness of the night vanishes, goes up like a twist of smoke into the black. Sypha laughs, and keeps laughing, until it turns to tears again and she can’t sort out which she’s feeling more of.

“Yes,” she says, with a little hiccup of sob-laughter. “He does. He fights the darkness and protects the innocent—like he was born for. And washes the monster blood off, after.”

“Good,” Arn says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We could tell from the beginning, that he was capable of being more than he was pretending to be.”

A long measure of silence, only the water rushing past, too swift to freeze even in the heart of winter.

“Will you let us give you a proper farewell?” Lily asks, hesitant. “Do they know—”

“They know,” Sypha says, biting her lip. “I talked with them about it before I left. They don’t mind.” As long as it’s a farewell, she hears Trevor saying, laughter in his voice even as he’d tried to be serious about this. And not a ‘till next time’.

Adrian had just been quiet, and had smiled softly in that way that is always disarming to her, and had simply said that traditions, and closure, are important. For everyone involved.

“Do you want this from us?” Lily asks. “Whether they mind is not the only question.”

It’s secluded in the little copse of trees, even the starlight blocked by the arching branches thick with green needles, and warm from the banked fire. Sypha nods, and reaches out with both hands, palms up in invitation. They each press a kiss to her open hands, and they hold her and she holds them, all of them swathed in the shadows of this secret place. She lets them say goodbye to this part of their collective lives, lets them put their hands and their mouths on her and push her to giddy exhaustion—one last gift from her youth, and one that will have to hold her over through the winter chill until these two weeks are out and she can begin to make her way home.

When they wander back to camp late that night, appetites sated and tension shaken away, things are different between them, always will be different, now—but that’s all right, in the end. Change, like liquor in a wound, can sting, but it is sometimes the only thing that makes the blood run truly clean.

The next day passes quickly and well. She gives her grandfather the gifts that Adrian and Trevor had sent along with her; scouring the castle library, Adrian had found a rare volume of supposedly true stories from the far east that he thought the tribe would appreciate having to add to their memory stores, and Trevor, feeling some cabin fever in all of the early season snow they’ve gotten, has taken up carving—which is to say, he isn’t very good at it yet, may never really be. But the two simplistic figures he’s sent are easily recognizable as rough caricatures of priests, one missing a finger and one missing an eye. In memory of the day we all met! he’d said, performative, trying to disguise the sentimentality as tactless humor.

Her grandfather laughs to himself as he holds the figures up, and she can tell he’s trying hard to mask how entertained he is; violence is so anathema to their people and yet, somehow, this particular act of violence never seems to have unsettled him. Context, she supposes; Trevor had been acting specifically to save his life, and he could have done far worse.

She wanders the camp, looks at all of the lovely exotic decorations, and plays with the children, an odd pang in her heart as she watches their innocent games. She helps prepare lunch, lighting the fires for the ones doing the cooking, chopping vegetables and kneading dough for flatbread, and she goes into the woods with Kiri to gather more firewood—they will need a lot of it, tonight.

They don’t talk, while they gather. It’s not awkward, just an understanding that the space between them needs some quiet, needs time to breathe.

She visits with the others in her family, with the surrogate aunts and uncles that are not actually related to her by blood, with the childhood playmates and the mentors, and with Taerna and her husband, a man from another tribe who’d chosen to join hers

instead of the other way around, had chosen to take her name. He seems sweet enough, and Taerna seems happy, if a little haunted around the edges of her eyes. Everyone she asks says that yes, of course they will be there, tonight.

Last night had been for stories, and tomorrow will be as well. But tonight is for celebration. All things in equal measure.

Hours in, Sypha drops onto one of the logs around the edges of the clearing; she slumps forward with a happy groan, reaching to rub the knots and strings out of her calves. Her walking muscles are conditioned like no others, but dancing muscles are a different story. It’s a good ache, though, like that burn in the cheeks that comes from too much smiling, too much laughter. She feels overheated from the exertion and the fire, no matter the chill in the air, and she unwinds the scarf, loosens the top layer of her robes to let the air move through.

Between where she sits and where the fire burns, silhouettes move, a chaotic display of human joy and beauty. They have no structured dances, really, though longtime partners often grow into each other’s steps. She can smell warm food nearby, bread and stew and hot mead, sees all of her family and friends and the strangers that come here as well, all her people, all dressed as she is, and wonders again: could any of them, the ones with magic at least, have done what she did?

She stares into the fire, remembers the feel of the castle’s engine between her fingers, the way she’d felt reality bending and brittle fracturing around her, so much more power at her disposal in that moment than she’d ever brought to bear conjuring fire or ice—and she thinks that no, maybe not. She’s met other magicians; she’s not sure any of them have ever trapped an eldritch monstrosity or blown apart an Enochian ward or—or done the things she’s come here to learn how to do. The things her father and her grandmother could do.

Later. Later, when the Nasaii tribe arrives. They should be here by morning. She will learn what she needs to, and she will go home, and she will be able to protect that home more thoroughly than she ever has before.

In the meantime, she watches the dancers, contemplates getting some stew, contemplates whether her legs will fall off if she tries—watches Arn and Lily together on the far side of the clearing, twisting in a tight curl that makes Lily’s hair lift, the fire lighting up her bone beads and glinting in Arn’s eyes. Watches the children imitating the adults, the youngest pairing off with their siblings, stumbling all over each other. Watches strong, tough Taerna with her husband, insisting on leading him, as much as anyone can lead in this sort of dance.

Watches the elder she’d told her story to last night, sitting across the fire from her, watching Sypha right back with a gentle smile that says Don’t worry, that says You will be with them soon.

And there’s nothing inherently romantic about these dances on the solstice—friends dance with friends, parents with children, and many dance alone—but she remembers being young and everything being about those early, tentative relationships, remembers that there was a thrill in getting the chance to dance with those people she called heart-mates, or to be asked to dance by someone she wished to be that close to.

So she can’t help but smile when she sees Taerna whisper something to her husband and break away from him, sidling hesitantly up to where Kiri sits. She’s poking at the dirt with a crooked, bare stick, and her sandals haven’t touched the dance ring—are clean of the dust and soot that coats the ground here, the

remains of a hundred years of bonfires.

Taerna holds out a hand, uncertain.

It won’t solve all of the problems, won’t make Kiri’s love hurt less or magically mend things between them. But there’s something of healing in Kiri’s eyes as she reaches up to take that hand, leaves the stick behind in the dirt, lets herself be pulled up and into the ring of dancers, the two of them falling into each other’s space with an ease that says We belong here, that says Even if we must change, there is still us, that says You will never be a stranger in these arms.

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