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yellowkitkieran · 2 years ago

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To Have and To Heal (Part 6)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin Ødegaard is late.

Being a teacher, tardiness isn't something you normally tolerate. But when the offender is a tall, fit, blonde, Norwegian man that you have a massive crush on, you guess you can grant him a pass.

You fiddle with the hem of your glittery gold dress, absently wondering if it's too much. You stared at it on the mannequin in the Chanel window display for what felt like hours before you decided you had to have it. You rationalized your outrageous purchase by saying it was a birthday present to yourself, ignoring the fact that you'd bought a pair of boots and said the same thing the week prior. Looking your best tonight was a non negotiable, and as soon as you tried the dress on you knew you had to have it.

Did you nearly drain your savings to afford it? Yes. Do you care? Not really, when you're positive Martin might lose his head at the sight of you in it.

The gold, half-sheer fabric hugs your body in all the right places. The fitted sleeves stop an inch above your wrist, allowing you to showcase the thin gold tennis bracelet passed down by your mum a few years back. The dress falls to your mid thigh, showing plenty of skin whilst also not causing a scandal among your colleagues. The metallic threads woven throughout catch in the club lights, attracting attention from all corners of the room but not from the man you crave most, because he's still to arrive.

Half heartedly, you wonder if he's forgotten. Or perhaps the lads invited him out at the last minute and Martin decided that a night drinking with his friends sounded more appealing than hanging around at a teacher’s birthday party.

Jen presses a drink into your hand, confident as ever in her fitted blue party dress. No matter where you are, she is usually the star of the show, but today you’re somewhat glad she’s turned it down a notch. "Quit staring at the door, live a little. He'll show up and if he doesn't, well then guess what! I'll help you find someone to forget about him." Jen touches your elbow, guiding the glass in your hand to your lips. "Drink! Have fun! Let loose and live for once in your life!"

Without a second thought, you down your drink amidst cheers from your friends, slamming the glass to the table when you've finished it. You make eye contact with Martin when you do, who's just walked in the door looking devilishly handsome as always.

Martin's blonde hair is perfectly messy, one little strand sticking straight up like he'd nervously fiddled with it outside. He wears a red and black flannel unbuttoned over a plain black shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans that his muscular thighs look set to rip out of at any second. Even his shoes are modest, a simple pair of white high top converse. The only thing about him that screams money is the silver watch on his wrist; without it he may as well be an average London boy out for a night of fun.

Somehow, he's even more gorgeous dressed like this than when he's wearing all designer or an Arsenal tracksuit. You love his modest appearance, like he'd chosen each piece with you in mind, to ensure he did everything he could to keep the spotlight off himself and firmly on you. It's sweet, as is the way he grins when you wave to him.

Martin comes over and places a book sized box on the table before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he says, the greeting rolling off his tongue as easily as a plain hello. “Sorry I’m late.”

"Thanks," you squeak out, then clear your throat. You're determined to get through this night without embarrassing yourself, so you try a touch of banter and say, "I was beginning to worry you forgot about little old me! Party started at eight and it's now… nearly nine, Mar!"

"Ah yes, sorry I know,” Martin apologizes, and you swear a bit of pink finds it’s way to color his cheeks. “It's just that Atla wouldn't let me leave and I wound up having to bribe her with a new set of paints I had been saving for her birthday to convince her to stop clinging to my leg like a little animal."

Oh God, how selfish of you! Of course Atla wouldn't want her dad to leave her, especially when she isn't used to him going out except for matches, when he'd be gone for days at a time. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that he wouldn’t want to leave until he knew Atla was settled.

"Right, I'm sorry! Of course that's why you're late, I shouldn't have assumed. That’s adorable though, that she loves her daddy so much that she couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving!"

Martin waves a hand, his voice like silk as he says, "Ah please it's alright. I should've messaged you or something. Though I would've had to email you through your school account, which you probably wouldn't have seen anyway, I doubt you check that on nights out."

Maybe it's the fact that you've already had enough to drink that you're feeling slightly buzzed, or maybe it's simply your new confidence in this dress, but you hold out your phone to Martin, a blank contact on the screen. "Put your number in then! I'll message you and you'll have it in the future then."

Looking slightly stunned, Martin takes your phone and types in his number before handing it back. "There you go- this is for you by the way, Sunshine," he says and nods towards the box he brought, a timid smile on his pale lips.

You run your fingers over the red wrapping paper and fiddle with the loops of the bow in the center. "You can call me by my first name, you know, Martin. I thought we were friends and all that?"

"Ah, but I like Sunshine better… how about if I call you solskinn instead? Would that be acceptable?"

This man… you swear he knows exactly how to make you fall head over heels. It doesn't seem like he even realizes what he's doing which is the most mind blowing part- how can someone not realize the effect they have on another person?

You smile when you realize Martin is waiting patiently for an answer and stutter out, "um- yeah, yes that's fine Mar… I'm gonna wager a guess that it's just Sunshine in Norwegian?" When Martin nods, you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, desperately willing them to not burn too brightly. "Yeah, I like that then Martin, you can call me that."

"Good, because it goes with the gift I got you. Go ahead and open it! I'm excited to see if you like it." Martin shifts a foot closer to you until he's inches away. You aren't sure if you're imagining the heat radiating from him or if it's truly there, either way you don't care. When you turn your head to look up at him before you rip off the paper, you have to crane your neck to see his pretty smile and the impatient glint in his eye. His beauty stuns you for a moment, the alcohol in your veins inhibiting your good sense and whispering that it’s a perfectly fine idea for you to stare at him a touch longer than you probably should.

Jen's sharp elbow to your side brings you back to reality as your best friend saves you for the first time that night. You smile awkwardly at Martin then tear into his gift, gasping when you see the brand embossed in the white box.

"Chanel? Martin what did you do?! I can't accept this-" without opening the lid, you try shoving it towards Martin. Whatever it is, you know it isn't cheap. Martin shouldn't be dropping hundreds of pounds on you when he has Atla at home.

"Honestly solskinn please, just open it," he murmurs, sliding it towards you again. His hand finds a place between your shoulder blades as he leans in to be heard over the music, "It's customized so I am not allowed to return it anyway. Trust me I can afford it! Please just open it and see. If you truly hate it, I'll pawn it off to one of the lads' girlfriends or something."

Ah, right. It can't be anything too personal then. Hopefully it's something small, though knowing Martin and that look on his face, it's the exact opposite. Taking a deep breath, you place one hand on either side of the box and bring it in front of you. You aren’t sure why you’re so nervous to see what he’s picked out, but something tells you that everything is about to change.

You pull at the lid, wiggling it free. You're acutely aware of Jen's eyes burrowing into your skull as you peel back the white tissue paper, Martin's hand burning a brand into your skin through the material of your dress. "I hope you like it," he murmurs as you pull out a small, white leather crossbody bag with a tiny sun emblazoned above the clasp. You run your fingers over the gold chain strap and the embossed decoration, not having any idea what to say.

Martin fiddles nervously on your left. Your back suddenly grows cold when he removes his hand, raking his fingers through his hair instead. You're stuck staring at his gift, awestruck by the thought he's put into it as much as its price tag.

"Uhh… do you like it? If you don't just tell me-"

"I love it," you interrupt, eyes wide when you turn to him. "Honestly Martin it's perfect- thank you so much!"

Without thinking, you throw your arms around Martin's neck for a bone crushing hug. Every muscle in his body goes rigid for a split second, like he's warring with himself. Then his arms engulf you and you nearly sigh when you’re slotted into the perfect fit of his embrace. He's warm and soft in all the right places. Calm- that's how you feel in the moment, as if a hug from Martin is all you needed to erase your frantic thoughts and worries.

"You're welcome," he says into your hair, so quietly that you nearly miss it. You want to cling to him for the entire night, but you force yourself to release him after a few more precious seconds.

“I really do love it, Mar. It’s such a thoughtful gift.” You allow yourself to touch your fingers to the back of his hand, trying to encourage him to let loose and be himself.

“I was worried you wouldn’t, I thought maybe it was a bit too much. I wasn’t sure on the color either, I had no idea there was so many choices for things!” You laugh, imagining Martin looking like a lost child in the store until someone took pity and offered him help. “The salesperson was really helpful though, she said white was classic and that you’d probably like gold cause most people choose that with this bag and… and I’ve gone off on a tangent, haven’t I?”

You tip your head to the side, studying Martin as you say, “have you? I didn’t really notice to be honest. I don’t mind listening to you chat. Really, I’m a good listener, I’m used to toddlers telling me the most mundane details.”

“Ha- yeah I suppose that must be true, Atla always wants to tell me every little detail on our way home, right down to what colors she painted the trees with in art that day.” When Martin speaks about his daughter, his entire face lights up. You can tell how much he cares for her, how immense his pride is for his little art prodigy.

If you had it your way, you'd stay here chatting to Martin all night. You have books full of questions to ask him, things you want to know about his life, his passions, his family, his culture… but your friends apparently have other plans.

"Haaaapy biiiirthday to you!"

You internally groan, spinning on your heel and being greeted with a round cake overflowing with candles.

"Haaapy birthdaaaay to youu!"

Jen grins, stepping into your personal space and forcing you back a step, causing you to knock into Martin to avoid getting a face full of burning birthday cake. Martin's hand shoots out to your waist, steadying you. You're focused entirely on his touch whilst your friends finish their song. It takes an enormous amount of willpower to pay attention and keep a grin plastered on your face to cover the way Martin's hand makes you want to scream. It doesn't move until you lean forward to blow out the candles and everyone claps, Jen giving you a look that tells you she's set her master plan into motion.

After you've cut and divided out the cake, you finally find your way over to Martin. He stands mostly alone, for once flying under the radar in an establishment full of uni students and young adults that couldn't care less about a football player amongst them. He leans with one arm on a high table whilst he chats to one of the people you'd invited. Martin does a double take as you approach, swaying your hips slightly while he quickly wraps up his conversation.

"Do you want any cake? Or does your strict diet not allow for any fun, sugary foods?"

Martin laughs, a musical, magic sound that you instantly want to bottle so you can hear it whenever you please. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to have any cake tonight. I am about to get a drink though, would you like anything?"

"Mmm, seems a bit backwards if you ask me, but alright I'll buy it. I'll have whatever you're having? And I'll come with you." You add the lastbit on impulse, glad you did when Martin's face lights up.

You follow Martin through the crowd, grabbing his flannel at one point to avoid being separated in the sea of people. Martin slows his pace when he realizes you're struggling, then reaches a hand towards you for you to take.

Time seems to slow to the point of molasses around you when your hand slots into his. You swear a jolt of electricity sings through you when your palm slides against his calloused one, fitting perfectly together like a matched pair. He guides you through the crowd with ease, like this somehow isn’t giving him the same butterflies as it’s giving you.

Is Martin doing this on purpose? Does he realize the effect he has on you, or is it simply a coincidence that everything he's doing tonight sets your heart on fire? You don't care either way, you just pray it's not a one time thing.

Martin hesitates at the bar and you get the feeling he doesn't want to let go. You open your mouth to tell him he doesn't have to but you're far too slow, and he drops your hand before you can get a word out. A stone of disappointment settles in your gut as you fold your empty hands in front of you.

Martin orders two of a drink you've not heard of before. Whatever it is seems fancy because it takes ages, which you're very aware of thanks to the silence that stretches between you. Martin's mood has changed in the time it's taken to get from the table to the bar and you have no idea why. You hate it, you want the Martin from five minutes ago. You want the Martin that hugged you and was soft as downy clouds, not this steely, closed off version of him.

When the drinks come, Martin slides one your way and says, “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.” Fruity bursts cover the slight burn of alcohol when you take a sip. The drink goes down easy, and before you realize it you’ve finished half. You grin, setting your glass on the bar.

“It’s good! I like it, you’ll have to tell me what it is so I can order it more often. Although I have to admit, I took you for a straight whisky kinda guy.” Your shoulder bumps Martin’s in an attempt to loosen him up. It works at least slightly; some of the tension drains from him. That light you love dances in his eyes again, the blue of his irises even brighter somehow.

Hold on- love? No, no. You don’t love anything about Martin… You can’t, he’s your student’s father, but… what an amazing father he is. You’ve not met a man like Martin, who balances such a demanding job with being the perfect father. Atla loves him so much and you would have to be blind not to see how much he loves her as well. His world revolves around his blue eyed, blonde haired, outgoing little girl.

And that is precisely why you’re falling for him. It isn’t slow anymore. It’s more like a plane crash, sending you into a helpless, tumbling free fall that has you toppling arse over teakettle. There’s no denying it anymore. You may as well admit it.

Taking a deep breath, you gather every bit of courage you possess. “Martin- can I ask you something?”

Your heart hammers in your chest. Your thoughts are treason. You don’t care. You’ll pay whatever price the universe demands to know the answer to the question that has been plaguing you for ages.

Martin glances over at you, runs a strong hand through his hair. He cheats his body towards you, elbow bent as he leans on the bar and says, “um, yeah sure. What is it?”

You barrel ahead before you can change your mind. “I just- would you wanna go out some time? Like, as… as maybe more than friends?”

At first, Martin looks like he might laugh, as if he thinks you’re joking. His cute little dimples come out to play for only a second. Then his expression morphs into disbelief, then something almost like disgust as it dawns on him that you’re completely serious.

You hate yourself. You hate him. No, you don’t. You just wish you could erase your words, pull them back and keep them locked up deep inside your heart where they belong. You’ve let yourself be vulnerable for the first time in as long as you can remember, and now that decision will haunt you.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that,” Martin says, taking a step back, one hand pressed hard to the center of his chest. “Sorry but I- I have to go.”

“What?” Your stomach sinks to your feet. Fuck, you’ve really messed it all up. “Martin, wait, you don’t have to go.” Your hand shoots out for his wrist, but the second your fingers brush his skin, he jerks his arm away like you’ve shocked him. “Martin I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I’m half drunk and I don’t have a filter.”

Your world crumbles at your feet as Martin shakes his head. He’s like a spooked animal, set to flee thanks to your admission. “I have to go,” he repeats, before turning on his heel and making a beeline for the door. He leaves you at the bar, shellshocked and alone, trying to process what’s just happened.

Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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rentenesen · 1 year ago

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Woven - Chapter 1

Gale x Astarion BG3 fanfiction

This is one my first times dabbling in fanfiction and my first time posting anything like this. Was inspired by the Profession Dekarios comics posted by @ssalballoon

Summary: Set in alternate universe, modern day, exploring a world where fae exist (non-dnd). Gale, once a very special child with the ability to see fae, is now a regular almost middle aged man, working as a professor. Bored by his life and unable to let go of the life he once had, Gale struggles with the guilt of how he got here. That is until a strange, pale man appears at his doorstep and Gale is once again pulled back into the world of magick, unaware of what dangers lay ahead.

Word Count: 1.7k This chapter is mostly just set up! Astarion does not appear but is mentioned briefly. I welcome any tips on posting/corrections for how I'm formatting things. Hope you enjoy! ______________________________________________________________

Many children dream of being something greater than they are. How could they not, growing up getting lost in movies and books of fantastical worlds; little boys and girls setting off on journeys through otherworldly realms, adventuring towards their calling, towards their destiny, the chosen ones. Gale Dekarios was that child.

Before he even knew what was happening or how to vocalize it Gale knew that magick was real and alive; even in the city where nature was sometimes rare. He remembered being maybe four years old walking down the street holding hands with his mother, the trees bending in their little cages along the sidewalk, facing forming and melting into the bark, whispers layered in the noise and bustle of the afternoon. Looking back he could see how someone not accustomed to such oddities might see it as twisted and nightmarish but children have no context for the world. To Gale this has always been the way of things. The faces in the trees were like little friends popping out to greet him. The people he would see on the street, impossibly tall, green skin, long fingers, eyes alight they were simply, strangers, out and about, going through their own mundane lives.

Sometimes he would point out these strange happenings to his mother with a giggle or or a question, asking her why that man had spikes down his back or laughing at the silly blue hair floating around the woman on the train, like a jelly fish. His mother would smile down at him, eyebrow raised, and tell him what a creative little boy he was; seldom answering his questions. Sometimes though she would and she would huddle close to him and they would talk about all the wonderful things Gale had seen that day. He now knows she was just playing along, encouraging his "stories" blind to the world around them that was so open and inviting to him.

He remembered his father was a bit less indulgent when Gale would speak of such things. Often eyeing him with a soft stoic look and letting out a little sigh in response. Gale wondered if his father thought of his child as simply being a little "out there" for his own tastes or if he was genuinely concerned. Had his parents ever talked about taking Gale to a doctor? Maybe they should have, but he's glad they never followed through if they did. Gale was not sure how we would have navigated trying to prove he wasn't loosing his mind, especially being the only one who could see what he could.. perhaps they would have convinced him it was all in his mind. How different his life might have turned out then. Either way, he quickly caught on as he got older and started going to school that something about him, about the way he saw the world, was not "normal" and he wised up and stopped talking about it.

He would still write about it though, late at night, exploring his theories, pouring over books in the school libraries feverishly, anything he could get his hands on to learn more about this strange world he seemed to be a part of in some way. He soon learned that the creatures he saw were called fae and he fell deeper and deeper into the study of them. And not just that. There was a time where he had been accepted by them. There was a time when he would dance in the middle of the forrest at night, lavish parties, tender friends, secrets of magick revealed, and even gifted. Gale Dekarius was once a very special boy who lived an impossibly exciting and charmed life. And now he stood in front of his bathroom cabinet mirror, groggy with bags accentuating his eyes, even through he had been dead asleep for the past nine hours. He was pushing forty, his messy beard and unkempt hair making him look even older. He was washed up, he was exhausted.

Regardless, he still had responsibilities so Gale splashed some water on his face and got to trimming his facial hair. His life was not horrible by any means. Gale was a home owner, a rarity more and more these days, of a charming two-story house, with a little back garden and a gate that lead out to a walking trail. and he had a very secure job, an esteemed one even. The title of professor did come with some respect and gave him plenty of time to indulge in how own studies. His parent lived close by and he could often stop in for an afternoon lunch or have them over, not that they stayed too long these days. His father's health had been getting worse and it was a bit more comfortable for them in their own home. Still, his mother would try to come visit regularly, even if it was only her, making occasional use of his spare room, which had become a guest room since his roommate had moved out. Gale wondered when she would be back, his best friend, his confidant, she had left almost a year ago now. He had seen her occasionally since then when she popped back into town, but missed her presence and company around the house. It felt a little too quiet these days, and nights he stayed up reading in the library a little too lonely, without her chastising him for not being in bed or forgetting to eat again. Now he had to keep his life together on his own and felt like he was failing miserably. ___

After fixing up his face Gale threw on a button up from his clean laundry pile, noticed it was a little too wrinkled to look professional, and swapped it for a turtle neck. He'd have to throw it back in the dryer for a bit before wearing it. Maybe he'd actually hang it up in time too, instead of leaving it for days to get wrinkled again. He really should invest in more of those wrinkle-proof shirts, he thought, throwing a blazer on over his sweater.

He stumbled downstairs, his briefcase where he had left it the night before, sitting in on the bench of his dining nook. He popped a piece of bread in the toaster, flicked on the kettle and checked the clock. On time, he sighed in relief, looks like today will go smoothly, he thought.

His phone rang, startling him a little bit and he looked at the caller id. His mother, they talked often but it was unusual for her to call him this early on a school day.

"Hey, Mom" he said, only having to fake his cheery demeanour a little. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh, I'm just wonderful, dear, did you sleep alright" Gale held his tongue, he had always been a night owl and even as an adult it seemed he would never live it down.

"Yes, I did, I slept a lot actually, must of needed it. To what do I own the pleasure of your call mom, is everything okay with dad?"

"Ah yes, it is, didn't mean to concern you, we're both just fine, I'm actually calling because I just wanted to let you know, I've been watching the news this morning and it seems there's something going on in your neighbourhood."

"Oh?" Gale replied, only half listening as he tucked his phone against his shoulder so he could get good grip to butter his toast "What's this?"

"Well your neighbour, Mrs. Wilson, mentioned last time I was over, that something had been rummaging around in her yard" His mother, while a lovely woman, could be quiet the talker, just like Gale himself. He moved on to preparing his tea in a to-go cup, eyeing the clock, hoping she would reach the point soon.

"I see"

"Well and now, I'm seeing on the news more people are noticing it seems like an animal has been prowling around. I just thought I should warn you. Have you seen anything like that?"

Gale thought about it for a moment, but he knew he was not always the most perceptive about those things, "I don't think I have Mom, but I will keep an eye out."

"I trust you will, I just worry about you, you know, want to make sure you're keeping safe"

Gale smiled, softly a little sadly "I am Mom, I love you. Wish we could talk longer but I have to get to school"

"Okay, love you too sweetheart, give me a call back this week"

"I will"

Gale grabbed a paper towel to put his toast on, scooped up his tea and his briefcase, then headed out the door to his car. Before he got in, fumbling with his keys he took a quick look around his street. Had he seen anything? Was there anything amiss? He couldn't tell. He had left the garbage bins out too long, he would have to bring them in tonight but they were upright, undisturbed by prying paws. He shrugged and got into his car, heading off for work.

Curious he turned on the radio, seeing if his local channel had anything to say. It took a few minutes but sure enough, they mentioned it. An animal, they presumed, had wandered into town from the woods. They said residents in the area should be alert and keep all pets indoors. Gale wasn't too worried. He was sure he had seen a lot worse in his lifetime after all, and he knew all he had to do to scare away a lost little creature was to make himself look big and shout loudly. They're more scared of you than you are of them, he thought; he wondered what kind of beast they had strolling the streets, looking for a snack.

No one had caught a good sight of it so far, just the messes it had left behind. The only mention someone made of actually seeing something was in the bushes of their back yard. They had heard a noise, noticed a rustling when they went to investigate and quickly, shown a light on it they had seen a quick flash of red, animal eyes staring back at them; most likely a trick of the light. The thing darted off before the neighbour could get better look at it.

Chucking to himself about how worked up everyone was getting about the situation, Gale hoped at least this might be something interesting. Maybe if he was lucky he himself could see the little fox, or whatever it was, running through his own back yard.

#astarion #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bloodweave #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #astarion ancunin #fanfic #fantasy #alternate universe #slow burn #fae #enemies to friends to lovers #faerie

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sketchyonlooker · 1 year ago

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< A live camera feed comes into view. >

A small yellow-and-green shop with a single red door comes into view. The word Game in English lettering can be seen above the entrance. A familiar spiky-haired silhouette briefly peeks through one of the shop windows, only to vanish before other people noticed. Outside the normally empty surroundings were more than several dozens of people, all of them wearing Duel Disks, making a rough attempt at a line. Many of them looked solemn or determined while others looked excited; all of them were trying to put their best face out there because they knew this event involving the most famous of Duel Monsters stars was bound to have a lot of media floating around. This small group of duelists participating paled to the number of spectators that came to watch. Lingering outside the large empty block that surrounded the shop, the spectators excitedly pointed at familiar faces in the line, minor celebrities when it came to the world of Duel Monsters. Some looked skyward, expecting the Kaibas to make an entrance that way. However, a good number of the spectators weren't duelists at all but those who smelled a business opportunity. Hence why there were hawkers and food trucks set up around the block, each one taking advantage of the duelists with their own Duel-Monster-themed culinary creations.

-----

An ice cream waffle cone stacked with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry scoops was being handed over to a kid from a food truck. Even in the cold, it was popular with the children because each scoop was decorated to make them look like Kuribohs with different cheery expressions. The fact it sold cappuccinos as well, decorated with a foam art of popular Duel Monsters, also meant the parents could get their fix of Duel Monsters-themed foods and drinks too.

-----

A fluffy omelet rice on a paper container is seen, being shown off by the cook in the food truck. It is decorated by a cutesy image of the Dark Magician Girl giving a starry wink made in ketchup. In the background, a teenage girl with short black hair and wearing a Duel Disk could be seen with her hand raised like a maniac's, bills clenched within. Her most flamboyant feature is the bright blue witch's hat she wore. "I'll take three!"

-----

"Get your official Kame Game Shop Tournament hoodies here!" said a hawker showing off various hoodies on several tables. The most popular ones, evident from the dwindling piles, were the purple Dark Magician sweaters and the white-and-blue Blue Eyes White Dragon sweaters; they both had images of the respective monsters up front and a Kame Game Shop Tournament 2023 at the back. There's even a crimson red Red Eyes Black Dragon hoodie, though the large pile remaining made it clear that it wasn't nearly as popular as the other two. "Show your support! Are you Team Mutou or Team Kaiba? Or maybe you want to show some love for the underdog?" A woman with spiky-looking sidebangs passing by glared at the man with irritation and disbelief. Thick-winged eyeliner added a weight to her glare. "You have the balls to say your stuff is official when the Game Shop is right there?" The hawker pauses and then cheekily winks, "Is the Game Shop selling hoodies? And do you see any other people claiming to sell official hoodies like me? Since you only see me, mine's gotta be official by default, right?" The woman's eyebrow twitched, "Do you really think that argument will work if Mutou or Kaiba demanded compensation?" The man shrugs and grins, "well, if they ask for compensation, wouldn't that make my stuff official then?" "I'm pretty sure that's not how it works," said the ravenette, her previous indignation turning into amusement despite herself. Not everyday, one meets someone so thick-skinned. She glances over at one of the red Red Eyes Black Dragon hoodies with pursed lips. Seeing an opportunity, the hawker adds, "Besides you won't lose out buying my hoodies. Good material woven very well. Good for yourself or a gift!" He then looked conspiratorially to the left and right as if searching for any onlookers, "I'll let you buy this for 25% off. Just because it'll be kinda sad if Wheeler sees a sea of white and purple but no red, right?" A pause. "...That would be pretty sad, wouldn't it?" Cha-ching.

#kame game shop tourney 2023 #uploaded video ;;

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dark-breakers · 2 years ago

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Shattered Star Chapter 8

After the fight with Rimsier Lunar, Midnight had found Sundrop and Lunar in the treasure room and helped them get back to the orphanage.

It was ultimately decided to leave the treasure for someone else to find, as they did not want the Rimsier incidents to be publicized.

Once they were back at the orphanage, Otis decided to take Lunar to his workshop to see if he could make any repairs.

Sundrop came out of Sunshine's room in his normal outfit as Zaniah came up from the stairway.

Zaniah was a humanoid animatronic that had light yellow skin, long hair with highlighted white on the right half and black on the left half, heterochromia eyes with the right eye being light blue and the left eye being pink, white teeth, and a pink tongue.

She wore a red and white pinstripe V-neck t-shirt, a pair of purple flare leg jeans, a brown belt with a gold belt buckle, a pair of brown boots, and a red, purple, and brown woven thread bracelet on her right wrist.

"Oh, hello! You must be Zaniah, right?" Sundrop said as he held his right hand out for a handshake.

Zaniah at first hesitated, but then shook Sundrop's hand with her left hand.

"Yes," Zaniah said as she let go of Sundrop's hand.

"How's Lunar doing?" Sundrop asked.

"Otis said that Lunar's body wasn't damaged. He hasn't turned him back on yet," Zaniah replied.

"Oh... By the way, nice work on defending the kids. I probably would have done the same thing. Also... Sorry about the whole monster situation," Sundrop said as he scratched his cheek.

"You're not the one to be blamed for it. Also, I'm just glad I had a day off today from work, so I didn't have to get yelled at by my boss," Zaniah said.

"Your "boss"? Don't you work here at the orphanage?" Sundrop asked.

"I actually work as a food deliverer. I didn't want to depend on the orphanage's donations forever, and I can actually walk around town," Zaniah replied.

"Wow... That's actually very mature of you," Sundrop remarked.

"Thanks. I try," Zaniah said as she went back down the stairs.

"She's a good kid," Starlight said as she came out of her shard.

'Yeah,' Sundrop telepathized.

"By the way... Could you tell me about Lunar? I would like to know at least something." Starlight said as she locked eyes with Sundrop.

'Lunar worked with Eclipse, the one that started all of this. Or I guess he used to.' Sundrop said, 'Moondrop and him talked, but I couldn't gather anything beside that. Lunar was trying to talk to me when Eclipse came out and threatened Lunar's very life for the star. Or I guess now it was you and your sisters.'

"How did he even get it in the first place?" she asked. "If Lunar had worked with Eclipse, I'm sure you weren't out to stop him."

'Monty had a soft spot for him,' Sundrop replied.

"I'll never understand mortals." She said, "Or well, technically not mortals in your case and the others."

'Yeah. I've been told I don't understand anyone in general.' Sundrop said.

#dark breakers #sams shattered star au #shattered star chapter 8

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things-about-writing · 2 years ago

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Hades looked up from the scrolls and papers scattered across the large stone desk, everything on it dark shades of grey and blue. Except for the small flower pot off in the corner, the tan clay keeping the rich black soil trapped inside. Keeping the small closed up flower nestled in it happy and healthy. The little pot was kept carefully tucked away from the edge so no hasty movement would knock it to the floor. Letting out a sigh leaning back, looking away from the work he had lost focus on a while ago. Hades attention drawn to the bud of the flower a small sliver of a burgundy petel peeked out at him. Staring for a while he looked back to his work, feeling a warm breeze wash against his cheek before he could read two lines. Bringing one of his long ringed fingers up against his cheek.

Hades looked over at the flower pot a magnificent flower had fully bloomed with petals the had glowing burgnedy tips leading into a spiral of blue mixing together as it went to the center of the flower . Pushing himself up from his chair he walked around his desk. "Of course you would find a way to make even my blues feel warm." he said tracing the petal leaving the looming stone chamber, the beautiful flower giving a soft break to the cold feelings echoing off it's walls.

The lost souls and his faithful retainers leading them along the halls of the underworld were treated to a rare experience looking over at the tall long haired man draped in leathers and robes of black. His presence that would normally leave them with chills so bad it made their vision fade. But his aura had a relaxed chill to it, the experienced retainers knowing what that meant carrying on with their duties. one of the new retainers looked at his face as he passed and could swear if only for a moment he saw a small fleck of a smile across his paled skin. His eyes pulling away as quick as they went to him, not daring a second glance at Hades.

Making his way through the infinitely expanding halls, Hades finally came to a small hallway just long enough for a set of double doors to be tucked away at the end. He made no attempt to hide the slight bounce in his step as he made his way to the large stained brown wooden doors. The earthy tone offering a slight contrast to slate stone walls and polished granite floors leading up to it. Slowly he brought his hands up grasping the silver doorknobs.

It had been nearly six months since the doors were last opened. He could feel a slight catch in his throat as he twisted the knobs, pushing forward the creak from the doors breaking the silence that had a hold over the hall.

Pushing the door open, he was greeted with the smell of pomegranate and freshly bloomed flowers. The smells mixed with the sight of vibrant greens from the grass and trees in front of him. Painting a canvas as far as his eyes could see for an array of other colors to poke out amongst his love's garden. Slipping off his sandels stepping into the grass hades walked into the room, that looked more like the forest of Greece then a room in the underworld.

A smile formed on his lips looking down at the light path of pressed grass that was made solely from soft foot steps walking along it. Warm rays of light from the artificial sun he convinced Apollo to put in the sky peaked through the tree leaves shining golds and yellows against his face, Hades walked along the path the feeling getting stronger, her energy washing out over the garden make gentle winds blow.

He walked for a little while seeing flowers blooming and running his hand over the leaves of bushes beside him. Coming to a stop at the edge of a clearing. The only thing in it was two long row of budding flowers that made a path to a woven wood circle gateway with more budding flowers growing out all over it. He stepped forwad standing in front of it. the grass tickling between his toes, eagerly spinning one of the rings on his fingers looking at the gateway. The smile he wore grew bigger as the budding flowers the last ones he passed to have not bloomed slowly started to open.

The violet petals peaking out around the gateway at first. Hades felt a flash of ember in his heart as the Narcissus flowers opened each one waking up to welcome his queen, his love. His heart back to him.

There was a flash of green in the gateway, Hades closed his eyes letting the flash disperse. Looking to the gateway, all the vibrant colors around him seemed to fade a little in comparison to the figure before him. His eyes softened as he saw Persephone standing there, her hands nervously holding her gown her eyes welling up with emotion. The lovers both froze for a second taking the other in. Her long curly hair bouncing against her shoulders in the breeze, her tanned skin of her shoulders peaking out from the gaps in the sheer green and white gown she wore.

It was once their eyes met, neither could stand it. Rushing towards each other, Persephone leaped into his arms. No hesitation, her love would catch her. Catch her he did her arms, wrapping around his neck as his went tightly around her back. Pulling him in her lips, meeting his, the fierce God of the underworld melting against the small woman in his embrace.

His softness saved solely for her. one of his hands tracing her back the feel of her skin like electricity to his. His touch and the joy from the kiss of her love, making any of the trees and bushes nearby bloom with fruit. After their kiss Hades loosened his grip as Persephone unwrapped her legs from him. Letting her stand before him, the God refusing to take his hands completely from her waist as he looked down into her eyes.

Persephone felt a safety that was nearly impossible to feel in the underworld. Looking up at her love. Slowly raising a hand she placed it softly against his cheek. "Come we have been apart too long my love. I missed your embrace." She said slipping from his hug, grabbing his hand. Hades gladly letting her lead him into the woods. His eyes never leaving her.

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whiskerinthestars · 22 days ago

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Chapter 9: Encounters and Unease

Urban Ascent

I gently place the ring on the table, a small smile forming despite the mild disappointment. The energy losses aren't ideal, but I have to admit, this is a tangible step forward. Besides, it's bound to get easier the more I practice. The important thing is, I've proven storing mana in an object is possible, and if I can do it once, I can do it again.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the next round of ring enchantments. Five rings—that's the goal for today, each one a little more perfect than the last. With one down, I've got four more to go.

Another sip of coffee—still bitter, but at least it's cold. This next ring is a little more intricate than the last, with a finer, woven band and a small translucent blue gem set into it. Well—I say gem, but it's really just a cheap piece of glass.

I hold the ring between my fingers, focusing on the flow of mana. Slowly, I begin the process of passing energy through the ring, this time with even more intent. It takes longer than the first ring did, but I manage to lose less mana with each pass, meaning this ring should be even more refined than the first one.

One way to find out—I carefully release the smallest trickle of mana I can manage, slowly filling the minuscule reservoir of this ring. I watch carefully for any signs of leaks, and as soon as I notice one begin, I cut the flow entirely. This time, I can feel it—even without absorbing the energy back to check, I know this was another success.

"Two down, and three to go," I mutter to myself.

Hours pass as the morning light grows brighter, finally making its way into the living room from my kitchen window. Before I know it, I'm done. A neat arrangement of five completed rings sits dazzlingly on the coffee table in front of me. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but even without any other "spell" written onto them, the mana in the rings seems to cause them to shine more brightly.

I lean back on the couch, stretching as I glance toward the clock—7:00 AM. Normally, that's when my workday would be starting, but here I am, playing hooky. My core feels exhausted, but it's a good kind of exhaustion. The kind that comes with a hard day's work, with something to actually show for it. I glance at the rings gleaming on the table, but in my mind, they shimmer with more than just polished silver—they glint with the promise of something bigger, something... lucrative.

Just as I'm about to grab some breakfast, my phone starts to ring. I glance down at the screen—an unfamiliar number. I hesitate for a moment, but wondering if it's work-related, I answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Nathan. It's Greg."

Greg? The flea market guy from yesterday? I rub my eyes, trying to push away the last remnants of sleep. We'd chatted a bit—mostly about random junk he had for sale, nothing serious. Honestly, I'd forgotten he even asked for my number. "What's up, man?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"Hey, listen," Greg says, his voice carrying that awkward, please-don't-hang-up-on-me tone. "I know we just met, but I've got a situation. My truck broke down on the side of the road, and I'm kinda stuck with this delivery. I remember you mentioned you had a truck... Any chance you could help me out? I was supposed to deliver this antique dresser to a client this morning, and I promised I'd get it there on time."

I raise an eyebrow. "A dresser delivery? Didn't know flea market vendors did deliveries."

Greg chuckles nervously. "Yeah, well... money talks, right? I'd planned on getting it towed, but I'd rather not deal with the hassle if I don't have to. I could really use your help."

He must have gotten a pretty good offer, especially since he sounds so desperate. Who calls someone they just met to ask for a favor like this? Talk about thick skin.

Not hearing me respond right away, Greg continues, "Look, I know I'm asking for a lot, especially since we barely know each other, but I'll make it worth your while. If you can help me out, I'll pay you $100—and I'll owe you a favor."

That got my attention. "You must have gotten a really sweet offer on that dresser, huh? Alright, text me your location, and I'll head your way now."

"Thanks, man, you're a lifesaver!" Greg replies, clearly relieved.

After hanging up the phone and tossing on some clothes, I heard my phone buzz again. Checking the screen, Greg had already sent me the address. He must really want to impress this client—they've got to be loaded.

On my way out the door, I scoop up the five rings I'd been working on and drop them into my pocket. After all, you never know when I might have some downtime to work on that inscription for the spell formation.

I shake my head with a wry smile as I walk out the door. Funny, I called out of work to avoid leaving the house, and yet, right at 7:00 on the dot, out I go. Some things are just inevitable, I guess.

The drive is uneventful—a mix of sleepy suburbs and the occasional strip of shops passing by as I mindlessly follow the GPS directions. My mind keeps wandering back to those rings in my pocket. Five rings, all successfully enchanted to hold mana. Each one a tiny triumph, even if they aren't perfect. It's strange how normal this is starting to feel. Not long ago, I was just a guy stuck in a rut, staring at spreadsheets in a cubicle. Now I'm enchanting objects and planning to use spell formations. If anyone had told me this a year ago, I would've laughed them out of the room.

I pull into the street where Greg's supposed to be, and his truck isn't hard to spot—an old, beat-up thing sitting lopsided on the side of the road with its hood up. Greg is pacing next to it, phone to his ear. When I pull up and park, he finally notices me, waving with a look of relief.

"Thanks for coming, man," he says, ending his call and shoving his phone into his pocket. "I was just explaining the delay to the client."

"No problem," I reply, glancing at his truck. "What happened?"

"Engine just died out of nowhere," he says with a sigh. "I was hoping it'd be something simple, but it looks like I'm gonna have to get it towed."

I give him a sympathetic look. "Well, should we get that dresser moved?"

"You're right," Greg says with a nod. "The client's just ten minutes up the road. Let's get it delivered, and I'll worry about the truck after."

We head to the back of his truck, where he lowers the tailgate, revealing the dresser. It's an old, intricately carved piece of furniture—dark wood with brass handles, definitely antique. It has that old-money vibe. I can't help but wonder where he even found this thing. It's bigger than I expected, and I glance at Greg, curious as to how he planned on moving this solo.

"You weren't planning on carrying this by yourself, were you?" I ask, half-joking.

Greg chuckles nervously. "Yeah, not my best idea. But the client's paying top dollar. I really didn't have much choice."

We start shifting the dresser from his truck to mine. It's heavier than it looks—so almost without thinking, and despite my better judgment, I start circulating mana through my body to make the task more manageable. The difference is shocking. I guess all that meditation and practice refining rings is paying off. What started as a backbreaking task quickly becomes heavy but manageable. Soon enough, we've got the dresser loaded and tied down.

"Perfect! You drive, and I'll navigate. The sooner we get this thing off my hands, the better," Greg says, still sounding a little on edge.

The drive over to the client's place is smooth, though Greg is clearly anxious, constantly checking his phone and muttering to himself. I can't help but wonder how much they're paying him and why he's so nervous. What's so special about this dresser?

As we get closer to the client's house, the scenery shifts—the houses grow larger and more spaced out, with immaculate lawns and high-end cars parked in the driveways. Greg directs me to a massive gated property on the edge of the neighborhood.

"Wow," I say as I take in the towering gates. "You weren't kidding about them being loaded."

"Yeah, they've got money to burn," Greg replies, his tone a mix of excitement and nerves. "The place belongs to some big-shot art dealer. I just need to drop this off, get paid, and we're golden."

The gate opens slowly as we approach, and I drive through, following the long driveway up to a massive mansion. Within moments of parking, a sharply dressed man steps out of the front door, waving us over.

Greg and I unload the dresser and carry it to the entrance. The client, an older man with sharp eyes and an unsettlingly smooth smile, watches us carefully as we set the dresser down in the foyer. He inspects it with keen interest, his fingers tracing the carved edges.

"Excellent work," the man says in a cultured voice. "You've delivered it in perfect condition."

Greg grins, visibly relieved. "Thank you, sir. I'm glad you're satisfied."

The man pulls out a checkbook and writes out a check, handing it over to Greg. "As promised—and a little extra for your trouble."

Greg's eyes widen as he glances at the check. He quickly stammers out a thank you, shaking the man's hand enthusiastically.

As we head back to the truck, I can't shake the strange tension in the air. Something about that client felt... off. His gaze lingered too long, his smile too sharp. But I brush it off as my overactive imagination. Still, the unease sticks with me as we drive away from the mansion.

Once we're back on the main road, Greg lets out a long sigh of relief. "Man, that went better than I expected. I owe you big time, Nathan."

"Glad I could help," I reply, though my mind is still on that client. Something about him didn't sit right.

"Let's grab some lunch," Greg suggests. "My treat, of course."

I nod, trying to shake the unease. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

As we head toward a local diner, I catch a glimpse of something in the side mirror. For just a moment, I swear I see a figure standing in the distance, watching us. But when I blink, it's gone.

I shake my head and focus on the road. I'm probably just imagining things... right?

#books #fantasy #my writing #reading #spilled ink

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oneandahalfwolf · 1 year ago

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“No wait,” Ben croaked as the fox went into the bag, “It’s not…” Too late, the creature had already taken a burger and skittered backwards. “Unwrapped.”

They tilted their head and watched, fascinated as the fox managed to unwrap the burger itself with the use of paws. A small smile graced chapped lips as the creature finished and looked up at them.

“You enjoy that huh? You want some more? Here. Just let me unwrap them this time for you.” Stiffly they sat up, putting the bag down so they could reach inside with their uninjured hand. They didn’t want to get any blood or residue from the dirty bandages onto the food. Once they’d pulled out the last two burgers, they set them on the floor of the box and removed the wrapping, before setting them on the paper coverings as if they were plates. “There you go. Someone should finish this food.”

They sagged back against their duffel bag, leaning against the clothes and blankets (that they’d been too tired to even take out to make themself comfier) inside as if it were a luxurious pillow – which it kind of was, at least for them. They smiled as fox took a step forward towards the burgers and sniffed the air. Much to their surprise the creature bypassed the food and gave their hand a small lick, the feeling tickling their skin, before it darted off down the alleyway. Ben sighed and frowned, maybe the poor thing just got spooked. They decided to leave the burgers out in case the furry beast came back. Meanwhile they slid back down into a somewhat more comfortable position and closed their eyes, unable to stay awake any longer.

Ben jerked awake at the sound of metal on concrete, grey eyes wide and fearful as they snapped their attention to the ‘doorway’. They relaxed when they saw it was just the fox, though confusion entered their gaze as they saw the basket on the ground. Said confusion only grew as they peered inside and saw the exact pharmaceutical items they needed but hadn’t been able to buy. They squinted at the fox, brows furrowed. Was this creature a mind-reader? No, even magic foxes couldn’t have telepathy, right? Then how did it know? Did it work for her? No, surely not. If so, they’d already be ambushed and on their way back to Los Angeles. It definitely wouldn’t be helping them, getting them medicine.

“You…” the fifteen year old wheezed with a smirk, “Are not a normal fox, are you?” They swallowed, grey eyes softening as tiredness overtook them. “Thank you.”

They reached for the basket and pulled it closer to them, careful not to crush the still unwrapped burgers. Inhaler first they decided, grabbing the box and taking out the blue device. They’d still need to get a steroid one, but this would do for immediate relief. They uncapped and shook the apparatus before putting the opening in their mouth and pushing the button. The cold puff of air hit the back of their throat and they pulled the inhaler away, holding their breath for thirty seconds before exhaling slowly. Already their lungs felt so much better. Still, they did two more bursts before putting the blue device in their coat pocket.

Next, they went for the antiseptic and bandages. It was time to take care of their hand. Once the new supplies were next to them, they started unwrapping the old and stained bandage from their right hand, wincing as the material pulled away from the sections it was stuck to. A shaky exhale escaped their mouth as the limb was finally free, trying gently to flex stiff muscles and shake feeling into numb skin that had the pattern of the once white woven cloth.

Despite being three months old, the wound still looked awful. The ragged gash that went through the middle of both their palm and the back of their hand refused to completely heal. Every so often parts of it would scab over but it didn’t last long, blood seeping out of both sides. The same happened with infection, the area swelling and oozing until they could get it under control again. They could only guess it was because the blade had been silver, the metal reacting with the werewolf in their blood, no matter how little they had in them. The bruising that didn’t want to fade where the hilt had been slammed into the back of their and the little spidery veins that pulsed across their palm only added to that theory.

“Don’t be afraid alright,” they said to the fox, balling up the old bandage, “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay.”

They gave the creature a smile before they shoved the wad of cloth into their mouth. Holding up their uninjured right hand they concentrated hard, mumbling a short spell from behind their makeshift gag. A flame shot up from their palm, flickering before holding steady. After a deep breath, Ben pressed their palms together, groaning against the bandage as they pushed firmly to cauterise the wound as best they could. The sizzling of skin made them feel ill, but they persevered until the pain became too much, separating their hands as they sagged with a tearful grunt. They took a moment before they spat out the old bandages and reached for the antiseptic, slathering it on both sides – hissing at the sting it left in its wake – before finishing the job with the new wrappings.

Hand now covered in pristine white instead of tattered and stained greying cloth, Ben pulled together enough energy to take the last of the fox’s offerings. They checked the dosage before popping the right number of pills, swallowing them dry. Unable to hold their head up anymore the teen flopped back down onto their pillow and let their eyes flutter closed, hoping some rest along with the medication would make them feel better enough to move on.

Orianna's snapped her head up at the sound of a human voice, a few chips still in her mouth. They didn't sound aggressive. In fact they sounded friendly, if somewhat sick.

She should be more cautious. Orianna was well aware of that, but she was starving and desperate. Throwing caution to the wind; she crept close, stuck her head in the bag, grabbed a burger and skittered backward quickly. Once she was at an acceptable escaping distance, she placed the burger on the ground and unwrapped it.

Animalistic as she currently was, she could still remember how to do a lot of the things she could do in her humanoid forms. Once the burger was unwrapped, Orianna took bites out of it using her paws to hold it steady. When she was done, she let out a small burp as she licked her snout clean.

Looking up, her head now clear with her full stomach, she took stock of the human in front of her. The poor thing had clearly seen better days in the same way she had. They had some nasty wounds on them, and their breathing really did sound awful. Creeping a few steps forward, Orianna sniffed the air. Two things quickly became apparent.

One, infection would soon set in on for them.

Two, they had some sort of magic in their blood as well something that was canine.

Well that settled it. She had to help them. They'd already helped her. She darted forward, giving them a small lick on the hand and then darted back out of the alley. There had been a pharmacy just back down the street. With a full stomach, she could probably pull of a little magic to help this kid.

Orianna dashed off, winding her way through the humanoid legs. When she found the chemist, Orianna activated her magic. She became invisible and picked up a basket making it invisible too.

Right, she needed an inhaler, bandages, antiseptic and painkillers. She found the bandages, and antiseptic together, grabbing two of each package with her telekinesis. The painkillers were also an easy find but required a little more magical finesse as they were higher up on the shelves.

Now for the hard part. The inhalers would be behind the counter at the medicine dispensary. The gods knew where they'd be, but she had to try for the poor kid who had been kind enough to feed her when they had so little.

Orianna waited for the pharmacist to leave the dispensary to deliver the meds to their customer, and slipped in. She quickly made her to the wall of drawers. There were none that were marked inhalers. She stopped, and thought for a minute. The medicine in the inhalers was called ventolin, right? Moving towards the V section of the drawers, Orianna soon found what she was looking for. She thanked her lucky stars it was a lower draw.

Using her magic, she quietly pulled out the draw, and got up onto her hind legs. She placed her front paws on the drawer for balance. Looking through the inhalers, Orianna summoned the most basic looking one into her basket. The last thing she wanted was to get something fancy for the kid that might give them some other medicine on top of the ventolin, that could potentially hurt them.

Hearing the pharmacist heading her way, Orianna quietly closed the drawer and dashed away from him. She sat near the front desk, waiting for her next opportunity. When the pharmacist finally left the dispensary again, she dashed back out.

Orianna sincerely hoped the man wouldn't get in trouble for her theft. He was genuinely helping people, but she had no other choice but to steal if she was going to help the kid who had helped her.

She made her way out of the store, and back down the street. When she was far enough away, Orianna dropped her invisibility. Exhaustion immediately set into her bones, but she kept running. She had to get the supplies to the kid.

Finding the alleyway again, she slowed down and walked to the kid's box. Orianna dropped her basket in front of them and backed away.

#//ori is such a good fren!#hellishtrickster #th; fox and found

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septembersghost · 2 years ago

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I genuinely adore their relationship to be honest. Like can you imagine after having a heavy public life like Taylor but then you have one person that is extremely.........normal. You wrote a poem about me? You're a genius. You love me? Already knew that. They think you're a man eating evil witch? Doesn't matter. Wanna drink beer with me? Like her confidence while saying all you wanted was sweet nothing, my baby loves me like I'm brand new,you and me forevermore is sooo beautiful. I want that oneday

same. 💗 can i say something unbelievably soft and sappy from my little hopeless romantic heart that i've been thinking about at length since midnights was released?

their relationship is one of the most beautiful love stories, and lives in a very unique sphere because of the type of person and songwriter taylor is. i cannot think of another real love that has been charted across multiple works from an artist and told to the audience in such a vulnerably honest, touching way. she's let us hear that. she's let us in on those moments she's chosen to share, and every piece fits into this tapestry she's woven of how her life has blossomed with him. she's shared some very tough moments about how damaged she felt and how she maybe didn't even know how to let a gentle, genuine person into her life, how to accept that love, and she's exposed a couple of times where she thought she'd nearly lost it, only to be met with compassion. it doesn't mean he's perfect, he's a human being, she's a human being, they both mess up and make mistakes and have fights, but the foundation they've created is so solid and the love they prioritize is precious and true. they've worked together to make that last. it doesn't require a certificate to make it true, it doesn't need outside approval - and the not needing that is part of why she's been able to openly share with us, i think. taylor has always been a heart-on-her-sleeve girl, it's part of why we love her and feel empathy for her, and her writing about him has this irrepressible trust and softness and confidence in it that's gorgeous (ding!) to hear her express.

i cannot fathom what it would be like to live with the weight and scrutiny of her life, the cruelty and mistreatment she's endured from many sides. she is remarkably resilient, and yet still says she's "too soft for all of it," and tbh that makes me admire it even more. she hasn't lost her softness and her authenticity even though she's had to fortify herself. when she said, "i want to still have a sharp pen, and a thin skin, and an open heart," she has absolutely kept that. i'm so glad that through the tumult and hurt and noise, they found one another, and she has someone who supports her and loves her as the woman she is, in such a normal way, which is the sweetest thing someone whose life is otherwise quite abnormal could find.

i feel like we haven't talked enough about the connection between "midnights" as a title, and when she wrote, "i want your midnights" on new year's day, which is all about the exhale, the simple moments together.

i stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes. with every guitar string scar on my hand, i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover, my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you. barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings that became my religion. i once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden. one single thread of gold led me to you. all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret. we live in peace, but if someone comes at us, this time i'm ready. when i was shipwrecked, i thought of you, in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you, it was real enough to get me through, but i swear, you were there. everyone's up to something, i find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings; outside, they're push and shovin', you're in the kitchen hummin', all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing. you knew the entire time.

everyone deserves a love like that, and it's been so beautiful hearing about it and seeing her shine within it.

#anonymous #letterbox #I AM EMOTIONAL #i love them so much #taylor swift #joe alwyn #midnights

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delacyrose224 · 3 years ago

Text

Middle of the Night

Pairing: Vampire!Yeonjun x reader

Words: 785

Warnings/rating: SFW, Vampire!AU, blood...this Yeonjun is just something else, ya'll.

Author's Note: Wow, look at me, finally writing for TXT and it's not Beomgyu related (who is she?)! This is inspired by the song Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé.

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“Is this okay?”

Yeonjun’s eyes are wild, pupils blown out and irises stained a deep crimson. He’s even more frazzled looking than usual, and you can see blue veins peeking through the thin skin of his face, almost paperlike in its texture. You glance over at your bedside alarm.

3:47am. Sounds about right.

“I’ve told you every time, it’s fine. I would say something if it wasn’t.”

He nods, but his eyes are slightly glazed over as he leans closer to you, a hand moving your hair behind your shoulders, exposing your neck. You can hear his breath hitch in his throat as his gaze falls down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes this time, bringing your hands to cup each side of his face, making him look at you again as you nod. His irises seem to darken even further, almost to jet black as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’ve been craving you, you know…” he murmurs into the delicate skin of your neck, licking small stripes under your jawline and close to your collarbone. You feel him smile against your skin as you flush, your heartbeat growing more frantic in your chest.

“Yeonjun, d-don’t do that,” you stammer, even while a smile starts to make its way across your face.

He leans back, concern clouding his features. “Do what?”

“Fluster me on purpose!” you exclaim, lightly hitting him across the arm. He smiles widely, and you can see his canines catch even the dimmest of light in your room as they start to elongate, somehow making his face even more handsome than it already was.

“You know you look even prettier when you’re flustered, though.” He runs a finger delicately down the side of your neck and across your collarbone, grinning wickedly as you turn a shade darker than before. “You ready?” You gulp and give him the go-ahead.

Yeonjun leans forward again into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his canines dragging across your skin, points millimeters away from piercing your jugular. He reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezes as he sinks into your flesh.

You instinctively let out a small yelp of pain, but the feeling is swiftly replaced by one of warmth. It’s almost like you’re buzzed after a night out as you lean against your pillows as Yeonjun takes his fill of your blood, one hand still wrapped around his and the other woven into his hair. You’re lightheaded, but it feels good.

Yeonjun eventually slows down from the greedy pace he had started with, finally backing away after ten minutes. He looks dazed himself, a small trickle of your blood working its way across his lips and down towards his chin. His eyes have settled back to their normal deep brown, and his veins are no longer visible.

You feel like you do each time this happens-it’s like you’re drunk on the man sitting in front of you. You wish you knew his entire life…what he was like as a child, how he ended up this way, did he have any friends? You move your thumb across his lips, removing the blood before it dries there, and find yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him senseless.

“May I?”

Yeonjun’s seemingly unprompted question shakes you out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You just asked ‘what would it be like to kiss him senseless’? I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now, so…may I?”

You swallow thickly, and nod. He leans in again, only this time he’s maintaining eye contact the entire time until he’s so close it’s no longer possible. As you close your eyes, you can feel his lips ghost over yours, much more timid than his teeth across your neck. You push forward with insistent pressure, and it doesn’t take long for Yeonjun to match your movements, pillowy lips greedily moving against your mouth, tongues meeting each other sloppily. After a few moments, he pulls away, remembering that you need air to survive, though he would be willing and eager to kiss you for eternity.

You gasp in a few breaths, and immediately start giggling uncontrollably.

“What is it, dearest?” Yeonjun raises an eyebrow at you and pouts, and the combination of that with his antiquated term of endearment makes you laugh even harder.

“It’s just…I’ve wanted to do that for so long, and it was really that easy?”

Yeonjun smiles and his canines flicker again in the dim light.

“I may be a vampire, dear, but I was also human once not so long ago…all you had to do was ask.”

—------------------------------------------

Check out my other work here!

Taglist: @hyungieyoongi @alpacaparkaseok @derinxfam

#txt fic #yeonjun #yeonjun fic #yeonjun fluff #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #txt x y/n #vampire au #vampire yeonjun #vampire txt #yeonjun fanfic

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dourpeep · 4 years ago

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Happy Father's Day! Enjoy a sweet little thing I whipped up in celebration :>>

Thank you to @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt for the name suggestion for Kazuha's son-

A Reason for Dreaming

Summary: A celebration, not just of fatherhood, but the little things that led to this lovely day spent with his wife and child.

Contains: Kazuha x afab!Reader, fluff, father's day, meet cute, domesticity, having a child together, Reader is Traveler but not Aether or Lumine

A little boy with ruby eyes and a smile brighter than the sun runs over to you clutching a large leaf. It’s green, picked fresh from a tree, no doubt.

He holds it in his small hands, arms sticking straight out towards your face.

“Oh? What are you doing, love? Having fun?”

“Look!”

He presses it, hard, to his face and blows, cheeks chubby with the effort. Apart from the pbbbbt that erupts, no sound comes out. But the toddler looks up proudly regardless.

“Papa did that—”

A soft chuckle comes from behind you, your husband kneeling besides him with his hand out and palm upturned.

“Let me show you again, Natsume.”

It’s a beautiful summery day with the breeze making the leaves in the nearby trees dance, the clouds slowly rolling along the endlessly blue sky. Perfect for a picnic. So you, your husband, and little sprout found a lovely area tucked over by the shore of a lake.

Spread beneath a shady spot, you sit on a large mat woven from rice straw. You pat its smooth surface, and Kazuha takes a seat, soon joined by Natsume’s hurried steps.

In his hands is another leaf.

“Here, like this.” He shifts, sitting with one knee propping up his elbow, carefully holding his leaf against his lips. With it in position, he blows and it produces a high-pitched whistle. He pulls it away and laughs as your son tries the same. Once again, it doesn’t seem to work, but Kazuha leans to press a kiss to his hair.

“I think you almost did it that time.”

When the leaves are finally set to the side due to the demands of rumbling stomachs, Kazuha lays down against the mat and watches the clouds.

He never thought he’d be able to experience this, considering his life as a wanted man, constantly running and wondering where each day will take him. The life that he led was hardly fitting for a family, yet…here he was. His eyes close, the sounds of Natusme’s laugh and the smile in your voice making his chest flutter.

It’s been a while since he first met you.

A strange traveler from a distant land, unable to return—not unlike himself.

You had run across him one evening while he napped beneath a tree, the sun pleasantly warm on his skin and the weariness he felt calling for a break. A shuffle and a concerned noise caught his attention, and he opened his eyes to see you.

Relief flooded your features to see that the man was alright, the bandages that covered his hand worrying.

Before either of you realized it, a few days of travelling with you turned to months. It’s funny how much you made him realize he missed this sort of close companionship; one he seldom had when travelling over land.

Slipping into a comfortable routine felt natural, just as it was to take a moment’s rest on a nice day or shelter during a storm.

Getting ready for the night, gazing up at the stars beside you or the early mornings where he’d awake to the breeze tickling his cheek and you still sound asleep with a leaf nestled in your hair. These little moments compiled and formed a bond unlike any other he’s known.

He had fallen in love.

So imagine his surprise when you confessed to him on night, looking out towards the ocean somewhere between Liyue and Mondstadt.

You shared your first kiss together, with the moon and stars as witness.

But nothing really changes much between you apart from the way you seem to cuddle closer to him at night and the way that his hand instinctively finds yours.

Soon, you met with a dear friend from Liyue, a mysterious old woman that Kazuha couldn’t help but wonder about. She gave you something, kindness in her eyes and you accepted it quickly.

Not wanting to intrude on the conversation, Kazuha kept to the side. Not that it stopped you from gesturing him over to view it.

A teapot, golden in color and rather large.

Imagine his surprise when you take his hand in yours, squeezing it as the world suddenly faded away.

He hadn’t known a home since his abrupt departure of Inazuma and the countless months of life spent sailing with the Crux…and although he still expected that he’d one day leave whether it was by choice or to protect you, he helped.

Chopping wood, building furnishings, carefully placing each one just right within the realm—until you had a lovely home you could return to at a moment’s notice.

The ache in his chest began to grow, the wish to stay with you only making the idea of leaving harder. Then, he surprised himself when he realized that he quickly settled into domesticity. A quiet question that he asked after a long day, muscles aching after a difficult and long commission, Kazuha inquired if you’d like to go back home.

Your eyes lit up when he said that, and though his cheeks grew warm at the slip, he’d begun to accept the idea of it.

His favorite part of this new way of life would be that there was no longer the worry of shelter, nor of safety. If you were to ask him, that is. Otherwise, it’d be the ability to see you with your messy hair and eyes heavy while you fought the sleep that would undoubtedly come. Maybe even the way that you always seem to hover when he’s in the kitchen making a meal for the two of you, curious and eager to steal a taste.

Even as straightforward as he is, Kazuha wanted to keep this little secret to himself—just for a moment longer.

Some time later, while walking around Liyue, you took up a commission posted by a few children who frequented the harbor. He watched as you played pirates, holding out a toy sword and exclaiming. The children quickly reprimand you, making you laugh because of course, of course, they meant the good kind of pirate.

You presented them with a little gift of apology, producing fresh lotus heads as a snack with a flourish.

For a brief fraction of a moment, a thought crossed his mind.

It didn’t return until one night when you two were already half asleep in bed. He thought of how he’s become used to this strangely normal life—one where he was free to travel all Teyvat yet still have a home to return to and you right beside him. He no longer had to worry for your safety as well, having proven your abilities time and time again.

It was safe. This life with you was safe. And he was so deeply in love with you just as you were with him so perhaps…

That night, he turned to you, resolute.

When he first held the little bundle in his arms, there returned that little flutter, the warmth in his chest he felt whenever he was with you. Always so sincere and expressive, believing fully that each moment should be treated with just as much importance as the last, he cried.

A smile on his lips, tears streaming over his cheeks.

To think something like this—a home, a spouse, a family—could be his as well. After so much hardship and loss…

You must’ve blessed him.

Kazuha opens his eyes to view the sky. But it’s blocked by two familiar silhouettes.

“Ah, we didn’t mean to wake you…” A leaf falls on his nose and Natsume giggles and throws himself over his chest. With the air knocked from his lungs, the man feigns distress and draws another fit of laughter from the toddler.

“So…many…regrets…”

Laying limply, a red eye opens to peek at you before closing right back while he plays dead. But the feel of insistent little pats to his cheek makes him spring up, arms squeezing around his son and an exclamation accompanying his attack.

“Got you—!”

The wind blows gently, rustling the leaves of the big tree above you, carrying the peals of delighted laughter with it. So Kazuha watches as Natsume chases after a stray falling leaf, comfortable in the little world that the two of you have created together, enjoying a beautiful day outside in celebration of this life that’s found him despite the odds.

#kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fics #genshin impact drabbles #dad!kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact fluff #feel good fic

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weavewithin · 1 year ago

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When a weaver finished with their work, they took care to weave in rows of fortifying ending patterns. It was up to the wisdom of each weaver to know when it was time to let their handiwork fly off their hands, to new purposes. For everything, and everyone, there was a weave to be woven, to be joined in with the rest, in the tapestry that described all.

The pursuit had persisted since the morning, all the way to the rising of the midday heat. It seemed to bear no effect on the unnatural monsters chasing Taliyah-- and if it did, each tired enemy simply got replaced with another, or multiple. Like too often in the recent times, she felt her limits encroaching. Close, close to the skin, so close this time that it might be final.

She'd never admit it, but her limit had come to feel inevitable. When she'd first seen one of the sinkholes, ruined foundations of buildings still distinguishable in the shadowed rubble within, she'd felt the weight of resignation settle on her, like the ruins settled into their new place in the fissure. That wasn't too odd a reaction for a Weaver, rather the contrary. In a way, a Weaver was always resigned, perhaps to a fault; taught to adapt and accept, ready to weave with whatever thread given. Taught perhaps stubbornly to thread with love.

Taliyah would not be there now, fending off yet another Void attack, had she been able to disregard her love for home and family. It was the thread given to her, and with it came this unrelenting fight.

In recent times, after each close call more severe than the other, after ever more frequent news of loss, Taliyah and her fellow Weavers had begun to weave the fortifying patterns. Reminiscing each other's lives, telling each other of their love and importance. Embroidering shared cloth, painting and engraving the rocks that rose out of the desert. Leaving their marks, finding closure. Taliyah resigned and accepted.

There was a familiar sound in the earth below her, the one she'd often heard in her nightmares after what happened in Xolan. She knew what was coming, and it spelled the inevitable. It was the single worst thing that could still happen, and she had accepted that possibility.

Riding her stone board out of the way just in time, she barely missed the familiar column of unnatural muscle and armor that ejected out of the sand. The shockwave which followed hurled her off the slab of stone she'd been riding. She flew through the air as if she were no more than a pebble, and didn't get a moment to appreciate her luck of landing on sand instead of stone-- the roar that followed the beast's emerging seemed to rend the very air around Taliyah, and left her ears ringing.

As she got up on wobbling legs, she saw the beast threefold, and the blue sky behind its hulking frame was more alluring than ever. Her limit neared, and it was less vile than Taliyah had thought; simply a feeling of utter tiredness, and the embracing of promised relief.

Right then, a feeling as if free-falling gripped her. The ground beneath her began to glow, and a clear voice spoke to her like a second stream of thought in her mind. It wore a mask with two holes for shining eyes, its form familiar and foreign and incomprehensible all at once. Taliyah listened to its words, and as she did, they unfurled in her head as the creature intended-- she recognized the feeling of free-falling as invincibility. She gauged the magnitude of this fate-shaping power.

More than anything, she felt the presence of the Great Weaver, and that encouraged her. Steeling herself, she began to gather her earth-shaping power in her hands, just as the massive Void beast began to move towards her. She gathered power, more and more, like an insurmountable weight that would normally have sprained her muscles and stopped her heart. But here, feeling this power granted to her, she knew she could do it. With a thrust of her entire body, screaming, blinded with pain, she released her command deep into the earth.

A massive pillar, its end as sharp as a needle, rose through the earth like through canvas, right through the approaching Void-beast's shoulder, impaling it. It released a shriek that shook the earth and would have cast Taliyah into unconsciousness, but on the magic-imbued ground it was simply a stinging pain in her ears. The earth rumbled with the colossal beast's squirming as it struggled to break free from where it was pinned in place, and Taliyah lost her balance. The earth bobbed up and down, and with each tremor she slipped closer to the edge of the magical, glowing ground.

In thought, she thanked the power that had come to her aid. It was a fleeting notion, immediately buried under urgency. Hastily, she broke a slab of earth free from nearby stone, and it slid under her compelled by her magic. Then, earth rose beneath her and the slab, propelling her forward at a great speed, away from the monster that chased her and the power that helped her, towards the possibility of escape. To another row of weave in her tapestry.

#all of this will lead me home someday --- threads.#weaving stone --- ic.#shimmerbeasts

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thatlongspringnight · 4 years ago

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A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere

⤐ au type: daffodil

⤐ themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐ kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones.

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance.

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty.

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him?

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow.

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume.

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.”

“....Not here?”

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before.

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king.

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words.

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well - just a little.”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment.

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife.

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout.

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow.

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

“Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

“Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

“Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

“Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.”

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile.

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him - and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss - her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

“I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

“I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.”

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

“I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

“Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

“It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

“Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

“But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

“Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

“Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

“Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

And it was beautiful…of course.

“Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

“Here...”He croons, reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout.

“I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin.

“...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

“What?”

“I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

“Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers.

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine.

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once.

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.”

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin.

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart.

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night.

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach.

He wants her, and -

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin.

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair.

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up.

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.”

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?”

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now.

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes.

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily.

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss.

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.”

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm? She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him.

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus -

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either.

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager.

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie – You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

“Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

“I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure.

He wants nothing more.

“Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

“I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

“Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

“J-Jungkook-!“

He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then, Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

“Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

“Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

“O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

“More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

“A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

“Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

“No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

Just her...

Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

“J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

“N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

“A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

Until-

“S-Stop -!”

Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

“C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

“Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

“I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that.

“Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I - I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him.

“Noona- “

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

“Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

“A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.”

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again.

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

“N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

“K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

“It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

“J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

“Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled.

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.”

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.”

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