#clutching that damn sword like a teddy bear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramblinganthropologist · 2 months ago

Text

Fictober 24 21 - We've done worse

Summary: The two newest Templars in Kirkwall had a rough night. Cullen's about to have a rougher morning as he hears the tale of their late night encounter with a supposed demon. Welcome to Kirkwall - get used to it.

---

That morning, Cullen found two of his men looking white as a sheet.

It was a grey morning in Kirkwall – more often than not they were – and it looked as though it might rain. The courtyard in front of the Chantry was mostly empty, with a few of the faithful heading in for early morning services. He suppressed a yawn as he walked across the open space, ready to get information about the night’s watch from two of the newest Templars of Kirkwall.

Instead of upright warriors, he found two men shaking in their armor.

“What’s going on?”

The one closest to him – a newly sworn in man by the name of Kurt – practically dropped his sword he was shaking so badly. He fumbled it at the last moment, but he swore under his breath as he returned it to its sheath. It should have been there all along, but for some reason he had been clutching it like it was a child’s teddy bear.

His watchmate wasn’t much better. Marcus, not much further into his service than Kurt was, gripped his spear so tightly it was a miracle the knuckles of his gauntlets weren’t bursting apart. Under his helmet, he was sweating, and his eyes darted around as if he expected the Archdemon itself to appear.

Cullen had been in Ferelden during the Blight – it would’ve needed to be a lot worse first. He had seen blood mages, but no darkspawn lately. They were safe from that.

“Sir, I…” Kurt swallowed hard. “W-we…”

Marcus finished for his fellow Templar. “We ran into two demons last night while on night duty!”

Sweat dripped down Cullen’s temple. “Demons do tend to be within our line of duty. I hope you dealt with them instead of letting them run through the city.”

Judging from how badly the pair was shaking, he doubted they had done much other than run away. Dereliction of duty had been decreasing in the last few years, but even two instances were too many for him.

Especially if a demon truly was on the loose.

“Report on what you saw. I’ll see to this after I deal with you both.”

He could already feel a vein in his temple throb as the two men in front of him turned to each other, as if they were conferring details through their shared brain. Finally, it was Kurt who turned to face him, still pale and sweaty.

“It happened after midnight…”

Kirkwall at night was downright frightening, and that was coming from someone in armor.

“How did we draw the short straw on night duty again?”

Marcus was complaining as they stood in their positions. By the duty roster, they had been charged with watching over the Chantry courtyard and the entrance to the Gallows. Until the sun rose, they were the only forces there.

Kurt shrugged his shoulders as he triple checked that he had his sword. After all, he wasn’t from Kirkwall – neither was his partner. Both had been trained in Starkhaven and shipped to the city when they had come fully into the order. Now, at the bottom of the pecking order, they got the duties no one else wanted.

So, there they were, standing in an empty courtyard as a chill wind blew.

“We have to pay our dues I suppose.” He stared around the courtyard with a blank expression – nothing but dust and shadows. “Truly, though, I don’t know why they would need the two of us to guard here.”

After all, it wasn’t like the mages were a flight risk. There were more of their number guarding the inside of the Gallows, and the threat of Tranquility kept the rest in line. Even if one risked an escape, they wouldn’t get far. The anti-magic glyphs surrounding all exists would see to that; it would only lead to the brand if they got stupid.

“Didn’t the Qunari attack here two years ago?” Marcus’ voice was high. “You don’t think some stuck around, do you?”

Due to that, Kurt rolled his eyes. “Have you seen any oxmen in the damn city? Some knife ear died killing their leader and the rest scattered like roaches.”

At least, that’s what their fellow Templars had told them when they had asked about the attack. For some reason, they were light on details – like how an elf had even managed to get a sword in the first place. Where he came from, elves weren’t allowed to carry weapons under threat of prison or death.

A rule like that would’ve benefitted Kirkwall.

“Elves with swords… Kirkwall is insane.” Marcus still had wide eyes as he glanced around. “At least he’s dead. I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley if he can take down a full grown Qunari.”

“For all we know he snuck up on the oxman and gutted him like a fish before he got squished under the corpse. Knife-ears are sneaky like that.” Kurt shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re stuck here until dawn.”

Still, a chill fell into their bones as they stood there in near black darkness, their only lights coming from the torches surrounding the Chantry proper. Thanks to the clouds, there was no moon to grant additional light and some small comfort.

Something about the darkness in Kirkwall was unsettling. Maybe it was the ghosts of all the slaves who had come into the city of chains mucking about…

“I’m transferring out of here as soon as I get the chance. I hate it here. Whole city’s haunted, I swear.” Marcus was getting annoying – he often did. Man had an overactive imagination, and it did him no favors. “Anyone who willingly stays here is insane.”

Or were loyal to the order. Kurt didn’t want to stay there either, but when he had made his oath to become a Templar, he had sworn he would go where he was needed. If anyone needed Templars, it was Kirkwall.

“What was that?”

Marcus suddenly pointed his spear in the direction of a nearby alley. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated in fear. Kurt shook his head as he unsheathed his sword, moving away from his post for the moment.

“Stay there, I’ll check it out. It was probably just a stray cat or a beggar.”

It was most likely the former, given Hightown didn’t abide by beggars. The guardsmen did their part in clearing most out, but sometimes they needed a little extra encouragement. Kurt didn’t enjoy that part of the job – they were so damn pathetic.

At least he could kick a cat out of the way.

As he approached the alley, Kurt’s eyes narrowed. From the looks of things, it was all clear. The wind blew through, just as cold as any other breeze. If anything had actually been there, it was gone now.

“You’re seeing things, Marcus, nothing’s-“

But then something moved.

“What the hell?” He jumped back into a defensive position, sword and shield at the ready. Kurt glanced around the space, trying to track the movement. Just briefly, he swore he had seen something vaguely human shaped, half hidden in the darkness. “Who’s there? Come out before I come find you!”

No one answered. Instead, Marcus approached, spear pointed. They exchanged glances before entering into the small space. All the while, Kurt felt his heart beating against his armor as the sweat dripped down his brow.

Then he saw the motion again, behind him this time.

“I saw something!” Marcus whipped around, pointing his spear towards the entrance to the alley. “We’re being followed!”

Kurt briefly glanced over his shoulder but was rewarded by a clear shot back to the courtyard. His heart steadied for a second, but then he heard the rustle of cloth off in the distance. He turned back around, hand tight on his sword.

“Too slow.”

A deep voice shot out from the shadows, and briefly he made out the shape of a giant. Red eyes glinted in the darkness, high above his head. Whatever it was, it had to be over 7 feet tall. Only one thing could be that bad.

How had an oxman managed to survive in Kirkwall alone.

“Stay back!” He held out his shield to brace himself for an attack. “I’m not afraid of you!”

“Big mistake there. But Templars are stupid so no surprises.”

A new voice, rough and high pitched, sounded from behind him with an eerie chuckle that chilled his blood. Marcus let out a strangled gasp as he thrust his spear into the darkness but made no contact. Kurt had no chance to look behind him; he was too focused on the beast in front.

“What should we do with them?”

Energy crackled through the alley. Briefly, Kurt remembered that some Qunari had magic. Unlike human mages, the oxmen chained their mages and kept them under constant watch until they died or needed to be killed.

Looks like one had slipped their handlers.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But excuse me, this one’s trying to poke me with a fucking stick.”

Marcus suddenly hit the ground hard as his spear was wrenched from his grasp. The other voice grunted and the spear went flying, landing far out of his grasp. Now they were down one weapon, with only a sword left to guard them against the enclosing darkness.

“There we go. That’s better.” Kurt could practically hear the grin in their voice. “That was rude. We’re just talking.”

The giant in the shadows took another step forward, and he swore the darkness traveled with him. “We should finish this. I’m bored already.”

The other voice sounded thoughtful. “Yeah, these guys are no fun. Must be from out of town.”

Before Kurt could even react, something hard slammed into his gut. With the wind knocked out of him, he fell to his knees, sword sliding into the darkness. Then he heard the sound of metal sliding – the giant had kicked it away.

Behind him, Marcus let out a yelp of pain and was soon sliding next to him, holding his gut. Briefly, Kurt was able to glance over his shoulder and his heart nearly stopped a second time. Somehow, the shadow had moved and was behind them, hidden by the darkness. Even worse, there was a second pair of eyes above the first, glowing bright in the night.

“Welcome to Kirkwall, assholes. Might want to stay home at night, you’re not old enough to go out.”

Then just as they had been there, the two seemingly vanished. Up above, the clouds cleared from the moon, showing the alley to be completely empty. Kurt scrambled to his feet and all but ran to his sword. Once it was in his hands again, he wheeled around for a second attack.

None came.

“What the hell was that?”

Marcus struggled to his feet, shaking like a leaf. “It had to be some kind of demon, nothing else could move that fast!”

He ran out into the courtyard to grab his spear, gripping it for dear life. Kurt joined him in the torch lit space, glancing around with wide eyes. Yet he saw nothing except the steps leading to the Chantry and the entrance to the Gallows.

It could’ve been a dream, but his gut still ached. Add in the visible dent to his and Marcus’ armor, and there was all the proof they needed. Truly, the city of chains was haunted, and they had just gotten their first taste of it.

And they still had hours to go until dawn.

---

“So you were attacked in an alley by a mountain and a gremlin?”

Cullen’s eyebrow was arched to the sky as he took in the words from his men. He could see the mentioned dents in their armor, so it was clear something had happened. However, the rest sounded too fantastical to be true.

“It had to be demons, we didn’t even see them move! Then they formed into one before they left!” Marcus’ voice was a squeak. “We checked in the morning for signs of possession, but there was nothing there!”

He waved this off. “I’ll handle this. Remain by your posts until I return.”

Then he left the two terrified Templars at the Chantry. Instead of reporting to Meredith or gathering a group to hunt down a demon, he set off on a familiar path through Hightown. All the while, his stomach churned.

It couldn’t be them. No one had seen him in years, and she had been on her deathbed last he heard.

Within minutes, he stood in front of a house in Hightown. The door held a shield painted in red, depicting a stylized hawk against the symbol of Kirkwall. It was an eyesore, but the other residents of the area could do nothing about it.

His heavy fist knocked against the door twice, then he stepped back to wait. After a few moments, he heard footsteps coming towards the entrance. Half expecting to see a dwarf or elf answer the door, he prepared his polite request.

Instead, the door swung open and he got a dirty glare.

“Cullen. Don’t you have some innocent people to terrify?”

“No, looks like he’s busy bothering us instead.”

Cullen’s heart dropped to his shoes as he took in the view in front of him. A large man stood there, hand on the door frame. He wasn’t alone, either. A small woman sat on his shoulders, glaring down at him with unmarked disdain.

“Hawke.”

Avery Hawke rolled her eyes as she leaned on Moses Hawke’s head. “Gonna need to be more specific than that, Cullen.”

Apparently, the news of her demise had been overstated. Unless she was a ghost, she was alive and well. Sure, she had lost some weight and her face was scarred, but he knew that glare anywhere.

Worst of all, Moses was back. After he had been last spotted in the city years ago, Cullen had hoped he had left Kirkwall for good. He had even put messages at the docks to let him know if a tall man of Rivaini heritage showed up, but there had been nothing.

Somehow, he had slipped back in.

“I wasn’t aware you had returned to the city.” He cleared his throat. “By any chance, were you near the Gallows last night?”

The smaller Hawke rolled her eyes as she glared down at him. “Come back with a warrant, asshole.”

Then the door slammed in his face. Cullen was left stunned, processing just what had happened. He went to knock on the door again, but without him doing anything it opened briefly. Moses’ hand appeared, sticking a piece of paper to the door, before it slammed shut once more.

“What the…” he took the paper from the door. On it was a crude doodle of the taller Hawke tossing a Templar like they were a child’s toy. Scrawled on the top in his handwriting was a clear message: Warrant or soar-it.

He couldn’t say he had expected more, but it seemed time had done nothing to soften their disdain for him and his order.

“Warrant doesn’t even rhyme with soar-it…” He grumbled to himself as he tucked the paper into his pocket for disposal later. Even though he hadn’t gotten direct answers, it was clear who had caused the disturbance last night. However, he couldn’t go on just his feelings. After all, the Hawkes were heroes now.

No doubt that would make them even more insufferable. Perhaps he should double patrols on their favorite route home.

---

“Can’t say I missed that prick.”

“Make that a double.”

Avery jumped from Moses’ shoulder, landing on the nearby couch. Her brother settled in, and the two got comfortable. Their dogs were asleep on the floor in front of them, not even disturbed by the trouble at the door.

They were used to battle.

“I mean, we’ve done worse. You’d think we busted into the Gallows or something by the way he tried to pound the door down.” She sighed, rubbing her right shoulder. Ever since losing her arm, it hurt sometimes.

Moses nodded as he reached down to scratch Dog behind the ear. “You think he would have missed us. We handled most of his demon cases.”

“I know, right? Fucker should be kissing our asses.” Then Avery made a sick face, sticking out her tongue. “You know what, never mind, I don’t want him anywhere near my ass.”

Judging from the look on Moses’ face, he was of the same mind.

Regardless, they soon settled back to what they had been doing before Cullen had interrupted their morning. Avery curled up on the couch to continue her cat nap, while Moses flipped the pages of a book. A peace fell back over the house, one that had been sorely missed in the years both had been separated.

They were going to need to break the new guards and Templars in if a light fright was all it took to scare them into reporting their superiors. How were they going to survive when the real shit hit Kirkwall?

Oh, right. They’d come begging for help again. Typical Kirkwall…

#Avery Hawke #Moses Hawke #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Fictober 2024 #Fucking with the guards is a time honored Hawke tradition #Keeps them on their toes #More probably survived during the Qunari fight because of it #It's just their form of community service

1 note · View note

absolutebl · 4 years ago

Text

This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 3 - this is proper YA, they are dealing with actual high school issues, picking uni, first crushes, online dating, etc... We even got a senior prom trope which almost never happens in Thai stuff (just the freshman uni competition variant). Standard plot pacing means PaperFah’s kiss was too early, might indicate we’re moving to uni in the second half of the series? Tropes included: let me feed you, hand hold, black & white striped shirt, floppy drunk & first kiss.

Y-Destiny Ep 3 - the first MaxNat ep. Such fun to see them playing different characters. This one is enemies to lovers, tutor/student, but it’s using the “poor little rich kid loose cannon” archetype. Nat is doing his best, but it’s leaving me cold. Lots of tropes tho: boyfriend’s closet, floppy drunk, pillow clutch, the loom & water bottle.

Lovely Writer Ep 8 - solid installment, good use of many tropes. I really like the leads and I’m glad there isn’t much side dish action, SibGene gave us: punish, touch your face, boyfriend claiming, kissing, sleep cuddling, symmetry, rooftop, cheek kiss, hand hold, and pillow clutch.

Call It What You Want Ep 3-4 - couldn’t find the subs, don’t really care, will watch if it crosses my radar, otherwise I’m just not into it.

Brothers Ep 11 - the “everyone wants Chol” show continues (but WHY?), he and Tri are cute together, and now I kinda just want Prab to end up with the twins. I’m confused by the teachers, but Boston showed up (from UWMA), and my boys KhunKaow got together (YES!), so I’m ultimately delighted with the episode.

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 2 - the makeover happened, and we go from cute with glasses and braces to cute without them. (I’m reminded of those 90′s Pygmalion teen movies where the girl has glasses + ponytail and then *GASP* does not and *GASP* she’s HOT. This was the BL version.) Meanwhile, writers better be careful with Pi, he’s getting too tsundere to like. Did you see they gave AJ a 2gether music intro & pick up line? Well, it’s actually his brother JJ who plays Ohm in 2g. I cackled. GMMTV - you so cheeky.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 5 - half way point. My poor confused babies. It was a really sweet episode... if what happened before hadn’t happened in the way that it had. Also, these boys have a GREAT friendship but are probably the worst advice givers ever.

Most Peaceful Place (Vietnam) Ep 3 fin - so cute! Our boys confessed and got together. There was an adorable mutual kiss (I love me a mutual, like Ingredients). Afterwards, they actually seemed to communicate with each other about both sex and their relationship. OMG. How original for BL! This was the last episode, so the series is short, but I still enjoyed it very much. RECOMMENDED.

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 1-2 - oh boy this one is rough, we started out with homophobia child abuse and moved on to family drama + drunken dub-con one night stand. But production values and subs are better than normal for Vietnam (You Are My Boy levels) + our queer babies are out & proud + it’s higher heat + I’m weak. So I’m watching.

Word of Honor (China) Ep 25-27 - honestly not much happened, lots of back story. Things are looking dire for the ghosts unless they can turn the Scorpion (I LOVE HIM, he’s my precious deadly baby). Don’t know how they managed to make loosing a battle with an immortal sword god ex-friend cute... but they did. Did some calculations and at 36 eps, mathematically speaking, ep 30 will be the equivalent of a standard BL ep 11. Should I be scared for next week?

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 1-2 - it’s so effing adorbs, soft bois do old fashioned tropes like arranged marriage + evil stepsisters meets the more modern fake relationship + secret identity in a surprisingly comfortable mix. It launched with baby is a floppy drunk, forced proximity, performative I saw you feed him, and some fun gay panic. It’s a lot lighter and faster paced than I was expecting, but this is Korea so I don’t know why I’m surprised.

Stand Alones

K-pop band OnlyOneOf dropped a new MV that is basically BL bait, using many of the tropes we know and love. I promise I’m not trying to lure anyone into K-pop I just thought it was interesting how consciously they’re yaoi dipping.

Spin-off We Best Love Fighting Mr. 2nd, Shou Zhen | the Only Love Letter Once Written (SERIOUSLY WITH THE TITLES TAIWAN?) anyway there’s a something or other 25 minutes featuring Pei Shou Yi and his boy that aired Friday. It’s about 10 minutes of reboot footage with 15 min of new content, mostly set in the past. It entirely rests on Chih Tian Shih’s acting, fortunately for us he’s great. However, it doesn’t substantially change or add to these characters’ arcs from the finale of WBL season 2. I don’t know if there will be more or if this was just an extra footage fan service.

COLOR RUSH GOT ITS MOVIE!!! Okay this is almost the tipping point for me to get Viki Standard. It’s listed at 1:56 minutes long but the original series had only c.120 running time - that is a lot of new content. Although i was disappointed by To My Star’s movie I loved Wish You’s, so I am hoping Color Rush got Wish You level treatment. That said, I feel Color Rush the series is damn near perfect already, hard to improve on perfection.

Breaking News

Close Friend the series got an updated trailer featuring MaxNat (no subs) so if you like them in Y-Destiny or in Why R U get ready for them to play different characters again, this time for a sports romance segment. Like Y-Destiny, Close Friend looks to be another series of vignettes (Original trailer) coming April 22.

2gether the movie (Thai trailer) was intended release April 22 but is now postponed due to a surge in C19 cases in Thailand.

Tell the World I Love You, a Thai BL movie that was supposed to release last week, is similarly delayed.

My Ride has been postponed indefinitely with no airing date.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear got a teaser vid, no eng subs.

Gossip

Thai BL actors Nanon (Bad Buddy), Yoon (YYY), and Mark Siwat (LBC, Bite Me) have tested positive for C19. Press releases stated they’re fine, tho filming has paused fore their various projects, obvs. (No word on whether Nanon’s current project was Bad Buddy or not, although it seems likely given his recent Arm Share episode.)

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

189 notes · View notes

tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

Text

Mihawk Having A Strained Relationship With His Masculine! Daughter

Request : sorry if this is VERY specific but can i request a scenario or headcanons where mihawk has a daughter who is very masculine and dresses very princely that people often mistake her for a boy. (bonus if she has a pet raven🥺) and she acts like mihawk but she hates being compared to him because their relationship is strained because mihawk was always busy with other things when she was growing up. but mihawk tries his best to get back on his daughter's good side and so they can be close again ??

A/N : tried something different- do you prefer me posting fics this way or the way I had prior? - thanks for requesting, I hope I did this right. ;-;

I deeply apologize if this seems offensive somehow. It isn’t my intention at all.

Summary : Mihawk attempting to fix his relationship with his masculine! daughter.

“So strong-looking and stoic. As expected of Hawkeye Mihawk’s son.”

“Son? I recall him having a daughter.”

“Is it a daughter? He doesn’t look like a female..”

Hearing the many whispers among the crows, you tilt your head to the left to eye them, your sharp, empty and intimidating eyes startling them.

Immediately the two strangers kept their mouths shut and strolled off before you could do anything to them.

Exhaling out in annoyance, you turn back to your teacup, handle gripped between your fingers.

Karasu, your raven, sat on the edge of the table in front of you, standing still and waiting for you, whilst basking in the shade given by the umbrella hung up.

You sat outside alone, hoping to be given the peace of quietness on this island you passed by,

but of course, being the only child of the strongest swordsman in the world and a Warlord, you definitely weren’t going to be allowed that.

Dracule Mihawk..

Dracule [Name]..

You despised the name.

You absolutely hated everything that made you related to the infamous swordsman.

It seemed obvious to you as well, that Mihawk despised being related to you. Being your father.

There was never a time where Mihawk would venture away from his castle and not be questioned about you. About his thoughts on your growing strength and fame in the New World.

Same with you. You weren’t sure how news even came out that you were related to him, considering the amount of effort you put to cut ties with him.

Yet people knew, and people asked questions. Lots and lots of questions. Irritation grew easily with you when Mihawk’s name was heard at all.

Even Marines were getting involved with you, even if you weren’t a pirate.

Just merely a traveler, attacking both pirates and marines that stood in your way and to cure boredom.

You never were and never will be given a normal life.

“... Let’s get going, Karasu. Before we get kicked out for scaring customers away.”

The caw of your raven was heard and you smile slightly, the corner of your lip twitching upward as you let him rest on your shoulder before standing up.

Glancing down at your reflection in the small teacup, your lips curl back down into a slight frown, seeing the resemblance indeed, to your father.

“Tch.”

You poured the tea onto the ground and slammed the cup on the table, sucessfully shattering it.

The mutterings didn’t stop. Not that you expected them to. But it was irritating.

Didn’t these people have anything better to do then constantly talk and gossip about you, right in front of you no less?

“Should we get going to our next trip?” You mumble, walking around the coast of the island you were on, needing some peace from the citizens in town.

Mindlessly wandering, your thoughts were interrupting by a messenger bird.

( I forgot what it’s called— it’s not a news coo right? )

Karasu cawed at it, the messenger bird cawing back as it flew down towards you, and dropped an item into your hands.

“A delivery? From who?”

It was a letter, along with a eternal pose.

To Kuraigana Island.

Immediately recognizing the name, your grip tightened on the item, frustration and even anger quickly building up at you at the sight of it.

Leaving it alone for the moment, your eyes turn to the letter.

No signature or anything of the sorts. Just your name.

“[Name].”

Scoffing slightly, you carefully held the eternal pose and opened the letter and read it, the smallest part of your praying it wasn’t what you thought.

“[Name].

I heard you were in the area. I apologize that I cannot come see you in person, as I am occupied with other matters. However, I’d like to speak with you. Come to my castle and we shall discuss matters. I’ve sent you an eternal pose to guide you. Expect to see you soon.

Best Regards, Mihawk”

You then turn to the eternal pose, the engraving of the island name across it. You wanted to break it, destroy it completely from your sight but you couldn’t. You didn’t know why.

After disregarding you, throwing you off and pushing you aside to focus on himself, always neglecting you, why.. why did he want to patch things up now?

The whites of your knuckles were seen from how hard you were gripping the letter, nearly crumpling it.

“Tch. All these years, why now?... doesn’t even have the decency to come see me himself.. ‘other matters’..”

No matter how much you wanted to ignore the letter, to shatter the eternal pose and completely ignore your father forever.. you just couldn’t.

Something in you was demanding to see him one last time.

Either, to hear what he has to say, to finally ask him why he even had you if he wasn’t going to care for you, or perhaps shout at him for all the pain and misery you’ve been given being his child, you weren’t quite sure.

“Damn it.”

Crushing up the letter into a ball, you shove it into your pocket and glance down at the eternal pose.

You were going to visit him.

“Holy..shit..”

Admittedly, you were in awe.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t remember much, but the island was probably one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

The appearance seemed gloomy and dark, but it was just your style. The many trees that surrounded the center of the island and the giant castle with a beautiful view, you were sure of it.

Forcing yourself to ignore the actually really cool place, you trudge forward to look at the letter in your hands, Karasu resting on your shoulder.

“It’s not that cool.. we’ll take a look around after we see what the hell he wants from me..” you could only scoff so you wouldn’t give in to the aesthetic.

But it looked really cool.

Sighing, you continue forward and finally made it to the gate fo the castle, just to find someone sitting there on the step, holding three swords.

He was laying down, panting heavily. His green hair and forehead was soaked with sweat.

Though, it seemed as if he heard you because he snapped up within seconds and held out one of his swords towards you.

“Who the hell are you?”

Your brows furrowed at the male. He seemed around your age, or maybe a bit younger. Either way, he was weird.

“Uh.. I’m here for Mihawk.” You mutter, clearly not threatened nor intimidated by him. In actuality, the swordsman was a bit taken back.

To him, you were just some guy with weird tastes in clothes, since they seem so fancy and royal, and had such a dark aura, resembling Mihawk.

“What’s your business with Hawkeye Mihawk?”

“Are you his guard dog or something?”

The swordsman only scowls are your retorted question and clicks his tongue. “I’m his apprentice, dumbass.”

It made him even more annoyed at your stupid raven constantly staring at him with its sharp eyes and cawing every few seconds towards him.

“Like I’d know that, you stupid...green-hair weirdo.” You stare at him weirdly before walking past him before he could say anything.

He started to shout a few profanities but you simply ignore him, passing a pink-haired female with an umbrella and a teddy-bear along the way, but you paid no mind to her or her stares and calls.

Rubbing your temple, you started to question your choice of coming, and your ‘father’s’ choice of apprentice and his pink-haired girlfriend, you were assuming.

Looking around the hall as you walk, you just sigh and admired the interior design whilst muttering on how the hell you were supposed to know which room he was in.

Feeling lost, you groan a bit, turning to Karasu. “Karasu, should we just go? I have no idea where the hell I am.”

Finding a door, you walk over to it and open it abruptly, pushing it open just to find the person you were looking for.

The noise made Mihawk look up from his book in his hand and he stands up almost immediately when he realizes who it was.

“...”

You two just stared at each other, unable to say anything. Unable to handle the silence, you just turned and went to walk out, until he spoke.

“[Name].”

It nearly made you jump but you, fortunately, didn’t.

Slowly turning back, Mihawk gestures to the couch with the tilt of his head, before going over to a table drawer.

Whatever he was doing, you ignored as you reluctantly close the door behind you but let Karasu outside of the room to wait.

Slowly and cautiously, you went over to the couch and just stood beside it, not really feeling the need to sit down.

Mihawk returns, clutching a small wrapped box in his hand.

“...how was the journey? Did you come across any unwanted miscreants?”

“..naturally. It was handled with ease.. the journey was fine.” You mutter, forming your lips into a tight line as you frown.

Mihawk nods once at you and eyes your form, while you eye the box, wonder what it could be.

Then, he spoke up again. “Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, I’m not expecting any good news to result from this. Whatever you want, just say it so I can leave.”

You turn away from him, establishing the harshness and bitter feeling you felt towards him which he understood. He didn’t deserve any kindness you had to offer.

Though he didn’t voice it aloud, he was a bit impressed with how you grew up. You truly did seem like one powerful force to be reckon with, almost on the same level as himself. You had potential.

There was regret building up in him seeing you though. The fact that you grew up to be someone so strong like you were now..

.. but he didn’t aid in any of that. He wasn’t there and he couldn’t help raise you be the person you were now.

“Are you going to keep staring or start speaking?”

Though he didn’t appreciate your sass, he understood it. “I’ll get straight to the point then.”

“..I.. have no excuse for neglecting you.”

Mihawk admits, slowly taking a seat in his chair. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them.

“Other than that I’ve kept myself busy and away from you. I’ve been losing focus, settling matters on the side than focusing my attention on you.” He stood up again, gripping the box.

Your fists clenched at his words, mind recalling painful memories you’ve suppressed.

“But, before I could realize that I should be caring for you, you were already distant from me. I’ve became someone you despised even at such a young age.”

He continues, slowly stepping towards you as he holds out the wrapped box in his hand, which you slowly took.

“..You dress nice.” He nods at the outfit, appreciating the look. “I’ve had Shanks ask me if I had a son, since he’s also seen you on the news lately. I made sure he’d remember that you are my daughter.”

He didn’t judge you for looking so masculine. He accepted who you are as a person.

Finally stepping in front of you, gently placing a hand onto your shoulder.

“...Mi hija...I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He states firmly, looking down at you. You look up at him, trying to stay calm but it wasn’t working.

“But I’d like to be back into your life, a different way than the first time. However, I understand if you refuse it. Whatever you choose, I shall respect and go with you. I just want you happy.”

You weren’t the sentimental, emotional or sensitive type, but, tears slowly brimmed your eyes hearing him.

You hated the familiar ache in your chest, it pounding inside you and felt like it was ripping you to pieces..., yet, you weren’t angry.

Happy? He wanted you to be happy?... what did feeling happy feel like? Was the thought of finally having this father figure back into your life after missing it for so long, a reason to be happy?

Quietly, you just look down at the box that has your name written over it.

Opening it, you lift the top up and saw the all too familiar necklace inside. A gasp escaped your lips as you look up at Mihawk, realizing what it was and you whispered out.

“You’re giving this to me?” There was a hint of confusion and skepticism in your tone.

Mihawk nods. “I’m handing it down to you.”

Carefully, you lift up the mini cross and pull out the blade inside it and poked your finger, seeing it pricking the skin with ease and blood trickling down.

It was the real thing. And it was just as amazing as you always expected.

You close it back up and set it down onto the table beside you, forcing yourself to contain your excitement.

Though you hated him, you often saw photos of him and saw his familiar cross. Even when you were younger, his mini blade in his cross was extremely cool to you and you always wanted it.

And now he was giving it to you.

“Father, I..”

“I’m aware I may not have been the best father. But I plan on being a good one from now on.. if you’ll allow me to.” Seeing how serious and stoic his expression was, made your tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You were silent for a minute.

“..why now?”

It was all you could ask, you wiping your tear-stained cheeks as you look down, uncertain of how you should react.

How could you react?

Were you willing to give this man a second chance into your life, after he blatantly ignored you the first time?

Or were you going to reject the opportunity of finally experiencing what having a father was like?

Mihawk stares at you for a moment, an unreadable expression across his face before he closed his eyes. “..I’ve been watching you through the news, watching your bounty grow.. I.. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve grown.”

Your eyes widened.

Proud?

Tears streamed down your cheeks faster, your shutting your eyes tightly. You’ve never had someone say they were proud of you for something.

And even if Mihawk was barely in your life, the fact that he was your real father and trying to get back into your life... hearing him say he was proud of you just hit different. It snapped something in you.

“I hate you...”

Mihawk was a bit taken back but showed no emotion, slowly closing his eyes as he accepted your decision.

“I hate you for not being there for me. For not being my father when I needed you.. for leaving me alone for [—] years. For focusing more on yourself than your own child.”

He listened to every word, feeling a small pang in his heart with each statement but remained silent for you.

“But..”

You stare at him with teary eyes and a strained expression. “I’m so happy.. I’m so happy you’re changing.. to bring yourself back into my life.”

Mihawk widens his eyes just slightly, feeling an unknown heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders.

And he certainly didn’t expect you to wrap your arms around his waist tightly and hug him.

Though he was a bit uncomfortable since it was so sudden, and he wasn’t the affectionate type all too much, he quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms back around you.

“Thank you..father..”

“I should be thanking you, [Name].. for giving me a chance to be your father once more.”

His comment only made you lean closer into his touch as you shut your eyes tightly, sniffles being heard from you and staining his shirt.

But he didn’t care. Mihawk was happy. Happy to have you back into his life, and getting a second chance at fatherhood.

bonus :

Perona and Zoro peek into the room from the door and watch the two hugging in the center of the room. On top of Zoro’s head sat your raven, using his hair as a nest.

“So who the hell is that?” Zoro bluntly questions and Perona flicked his head and hissed to shut him up, successfully making him quiet.

“That’s his kid, you moron!” She whispers out harshly to him as she turns back to the two.

“Why the hell is his kid here?” Zoro mutters quietly, rubbing his head, but he only received a smack.

A/N : ooc~ also wth, this is so much longer than intended— and ugh I told myself to keep it short and do headcannons so I have more time to post but ahhhhhhh ;-; this is a little rushed too~ TuT

Also let me know which way is better for posting fics. Answering it in a ask or posting it as a separate post and copying / pasting the request like so? ^ thank you!

god, I’m so soft for some platonic relationships right now, like, I’m thinking about making an event for that, when it’s near March. But I’m already doing an event for my birthday AND White Day, in March so idk :((

#platonic #platonic x reader #one piece platonic #dracule mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op

301 notes · View notes

elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years ago

Text

June Contest Submission #21: Dashing

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: 18th Century Caribbean/ Non-Canon Lemon: lime CW: Mild Nudity/ Swearing/ Incest/ NO Lemons/ Small Limes/Violence

A/N:

Bold/Italic indicates that a character is writing.

Italic(with no Bold) indicates a character’s inner thoughts.

This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent a shred of historical accuracy in any way.

Dashing

Dearest mother,

is this truly where you envisioned my life to carry me? Did you foresee that your dutiful daughter, Elsa, would be crated onto a ship bound for worlds unknown when you married her to Lord Hans Westergaard of the Dutch West India Trading Company? Did you not wish to keep your only daughter close, say on the same continent? I apologize, I should not start a letter so drearily. Conceal, don’t feel. It has been weeks at sea and I am fatigued. Before I forget, I must thank you for the wonderful parting gift. A book of dashing swashbucklers to distract from the otherwise ceaseless monotony of blue only occasionally broken by a thin veil between Heaven and Poseidon. We have entered a bit of unfortunate weather and the ship rolls like a devil. The thunder grows ever louder, and sometimes it sounds as if it’s right on top—

The wooden crate that was the captain’s quarters flipped on its side. Tables, chairs, and a lady found themselves tumbling across the lacquered walls of the gilded box before falling back to the polished floor now stained with spilled ink and a smattering of blood.

Elsa held her head as she shook off the ringing in her ears. The doors to the cabin burst open where a panicked, and soaked, Hans Westergaard stood with arms outstretched between the paneled glass and his heart beating to the drone of endless rain.

“Hans..? What was—”

“Pirates!! Hurry, hide yourself! They are already boarding!”

Pirates? Attacking in the middle of a storm?

Elsa’s thoughts were cut short by the screams of men slicing through the roar of thunder and canons. Hans had locked the door behind him, leaving the fear to bubble within her corset. She frantically ran to the closet, but her hands had begun to shake as she fumbled with the latch.

Another loud *THOOM* rocked the cabin, but this time it was against the locked door.

Elsa finally got the latch open and threw herself inside amongst the forest of silk and linen. From within her sanctuary, all she could do was listen and pray.

*THOOM*

Glass and wood crashed.

Heels of heavy boots knocked.

*knock*

The shrill of Elsa’s breath.

She held her quivering lips and tried to force the air back into her lungs.

The *knock* of boots grew. It trickled, slowly, until the canals of her ears were flooded. So close that she felt as if she would overflow with the anxiety and trapped air.

Then silence.

God, please protect me. Or send someone to protect me. Please, send anyone! Send Mr. Crusoe if you have to!

She was hit with a blinding light…

and a hand around her throat.

NO!! Get your filthy hands off me!

She screamed in her mind for her voice was clutched in the coarse grip around her neck. She fought with all her pampered might, her arms striking in all directions until they too were held in place by a second firm shackle.

Finally, Elsa managed to force her voice through the death grip.

“Get…. your brutish hands… OFF ME!!”

Blackness began to overtake her vision. The brute had her lifted against the back of the closet, her feet dangled in the air and the force around her neck tightened.

Her ears were once again flooded, but with the sound of her own heartbeat as the blood in her veins struggled to course. Until a most unexpected sound washed everything else into non-existence.

“Elsa…?”

….

That voice… a woman’s voice? I am being manhandled by a woman? And how does she know my name?

Elsa forced the darkness in her eyes to recede. The grip loosened and she fell to the closet floor. All she could see through the blur of burst veins was a wide, feathered hat, impossibly maroon hair, braided and beaded and rather filthy, and two verdant gems staring with a wide-eyed familiarity.

I know those eyes…

…..

“Anna…?”

Her attacker backed away, seemingly unsure of what she was looking at.

They stood within that broken, gilded box of a captain’s cabin. Alone with the sounds of swords and gunfire lost amongst the storm of surprise and uncertainty surrounding them.

Elsa could not bear it any longer.

“What happened to your hair?”

And years of separation vanished.

“My HAIR?! It’s been ten years and the first thing you do is judge my hair?!? Not, ‘oh hey, Anna, you look good for a dead girl’ or ‘oh my darling little sister, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you terribly?’. Either of those things would have been more normal!”

Elsa picked herself up and gently caressed the rapidly forming bruise around her neck.

“Nothing about this is normal! You tried to strangle me!”

“Oh relax. I was just trying to stop you from screaming and then knock you out.”

“Ah, I see. I am most relieved to hear that your plan was to simply render me unconscious.”

Anna’s head jerked back in a motion of mild disgust.

“Why are you talking like that? You didn’t use to sound so hoity-toity.”

Elsa looked rather indignant at the accusation as she mumbled “It’s not ‘hoity-toity’. Its grace and sophistication”.

“Well, you’re not in a graceful or sophisticated situation so come on.”

Anna grabbed her slender arm and she had almost forgotten that the hulking brute who was upon her moments before was the same lithe girl pulling her out into the rain as easily as a toddler dragging her teddy. The rain had washed the image of her sister away and all that was left was a pirate.

And her fear.

The ship rocked, lulled by the sudden absence of violence. Elsa found herself before a horde of men. Each one a more frightening image than the last and each one fit into her imaginary brute far better than the frame of her sister.

So much for Mr. Crusoe…

An immensely rotund man stepped forward with a sneer in his mouth and a hunger in his eye. Elsa had no idea someone got so large living on a ship. “Oi Cap’n! You found a bit o’ treasure there!”

His grubby hand reached for Elsa’s bosom in the most indelicate manner before a blade came between his dirty fingernail and the lace of her corset.

“You know the rules, Bob,” Anna said with a voice commanding Poseidon’s wrath. “You touch her and you lose a finger.”

Bob had the look of a scolded schoolboy as Anna dragged Elsa to the edge of the ship. “Aw cap’n… you always get the blonde ones!”

Anna spun around in a fury, leaving Elsa to stand perilously on the thin plank that formed a makeshift bridge. She panicked as she fought for her balance in her heels and voluminous dress that was gaining pounds of water every second.

“You shut your hole or I will shove Pete’s peg leg so far down your throat that you’ll be a three-legged barstool on Tortuga with a sign that says ‘reserved for Whale-Butt Willie’. Do I make myself CLEAR?”

*Silence* as the men all looked at each other in submission.

“Aye, cap’n…”

Elsa swung her arms in vain to save herself from falling when Anna decided to skip the plank altogether, lifted her like a commoner’s bride, and leaped across the gap between ships. She was carried to a new gilded box, although this one noticeably less gilded but with significantly richer contents.

“Let go of me, Anna! I am not a child, I am your older sis—”

Elsa landed on her butt as Anna crossed her arms.

“No, you’re not. Because your little sister died ten years ago. Now be quiet while I think of what to do with you.”

Elsa did her best to wring the rain out of her skirt, channeling the fear and anger building from her situation.

“What to do with me? You mean like the other ‘blondes’? Tell me, Anna, what exactly do you plan to do with me?”

“Elsa, don’t.”

“Not only do you slay men, but you bed women as well? Do you mean to have your way with me?” The anger was rapidly overtaking her fear as she glared at her little sister who still stood with her arms crossed, looking away.

“What? Gross, you’re my sister!”

“I don’t claim to know the depravities you pirates get up to. And you just said that I am not your sister. How am I to interpret that other than to treat you as you appear. A pirate who’s kidnapped me.”

Elsa’s gaze turned hard as thoughts filled her head of all the women Anna had grabbed by the neck and forced her will upon.

“…How could you, Anna?”

Anna’s shoulders visibly stiffened.

“I said, don’t.”

But Elsa did anyway.

“How could you do that to those women? You have your way with them and then what? Sell them into slavery? Is that my fate? You call yourself a woman while forcing—”

*SLAP*

Elsa stood, speechless, as a red brand formed across her cheek. The pain was nothing compared to the shock that came from her sister’s palm now embedded into her skin.

“Don’t you DARE judge me! You have been out here for all of five minutes. I have been on these waters since I was twelve FUCKING YEARS OLD! You don’t think I have had to put up with some shit?! You stand there in that ivory tower and judge my life when you don’t know the first thing about it!”

Anna’s chest was heaving in rage while she stood pointing an accusatory finger. Elsa remained motionless and silent, still trying to process the sensation across her cheek and the words being said.

Anna’s breathing started to calm. She crossed her arms again and turned so that she didn’t have to look at the bright red memento left behind by her hand.

“I…I don’t force them. I never force them. Don’t assume you know what life has been like for me. I could never do those things. I would never. My ship has rules, and those rules include being god-damned respectful so you better be god-damned respectful of me.”

Elsa’s fingers spread across her cheek, matching tip-for-tip against the first contact she has had with her sister since they were children. Her voice was low, almost a whisper.

“You’re right. I don’t know what your life has been like. I don’t know what drove you to run away, but I have a pretty good idea seeing as how I lived it in your stead. Perhaps… I sound so much like mother because…

… I was left behind.”

Anna felt the words land across her cheek as assuredly as Elsa felt her palm. She refused to turn and look at her sister. The shame of the truth was staring at her from across her own cabin and she would not bear it. She quietly stormed toward the door.

“Anna…? Where are you going?”

Still refusing to turn, Anna simply said “someone needs to pilot the ship” and walked into the rain.

I sat alone, looking out my window for years wondering if she would ever return to me, and now that she has she slaps me and holds me captive so that she can decide my fate?

Storm be damned, Elsa launched herself through the doors and turned toward the banister that led to the helm above. Her adrenaline-fueled legs carried her halfway up the stairs before she saw Anna at the wheel, staring at her in absolute shock.

Their eyes met and time seemed to slow to a fraction. Elsa felt the sound of Anna’s name on her breath as she began to release it into the howling wind. She didn’t feel the rain, or hear the shouting, or see the pully flying through the air as it slammed into her skull. All she knew was that she was about to yell out her sister’s name after she failed to do so ten years ago from her window as she watched Anna leave her behind.

\\///////////////////////////////

I’ve had the most wondrous dream. My ship was besieged by pirates! But I was not afraid for I was confronted by a most dashing figure. He was rough around the edges but with the kindest green eyes, like a crystal spring dusted with scattered sundrops through the canopy. He held me with such strength as he kissed me most tenderly. I can still taste the spicy sweetness on his lips; rum and coconut.

There he is now! The hat is missing but there is no mistaking those piercing eyes. And that hair, such an unthinkable maroon color. Yes, my dashing pirate.

\\///////////////////////////////

“Hey, you’re alive!”

As her vision cleared, Elsa lay with her back in the sand and stared wide-eyed and mouth ajar at the woman leaning above her.

“I… where…? ……..Anna?”

Anna leaned in close to inspect for signs of a concussion or any other injury. So close that Elsa caught a familiar scent from her sister’s lips.

Rum and coconut…

“Well, you look alive at least so that’s something.”

Elsa slowly sat up, fighting back a sudden pain in her temple. She reached for the side of her head and found a swath of fabric wrapped around.

“What happened?”

“You got knocked overboard. It was pretty awesome actually. You flew clear over the railing.”

“How did I get here?”

Anna placed her index finger under her bottom lip while she began to sort through her memories.

“Let’s see, first, mother married you to a slaver. Then I think I cut his head off but it’s hard to remember which dead dutchman was him. Then—”

“Anna! I meant how did I end up on this beach?”

“Oh! Be more specific, jeez. The storm carried us for a while and we washed up here.”

“You… jumped in after me?”

Anna’s face turned solemn but determined. She stood, clearly uncomfortable with the words she was about to say.��

“Of course. I wasn’t going to leave you behind again.”

And despite the fact that she managed to get the words out, she still walked away in that same manner trying to keep the unsettling shame at arm’s length.

As Elsa watched her sister stroll up the beach toward the tree line, the reality of her predicament suddenly dawned on her.

“Wait, Anna! Are you telling me that we are stranded on a deserted island?!”

While keeping her stride, Anna replied with a simple “yup”.

Elsa scrambled off the sand after her, with a newfound panic quickly settling in.

“What are we going to do? How are we going to survive?! We are going to starve to death. No, we will die of thirst first. Or perhaps cannibals will eat us—”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, chill out! There’s no such thing as cannibals on these islands. Seriously, you read too many books. Relax, this isn’t the first deserted island I’ve been stuck on.”

As they made their way off the beach Elsa saw swaths of blue cloth tied around branches and an array of wide leaves that formed a surprisingly well constructed little bungalow complete with a floor, walls of fabric to keep the bugs out, and a watertight roof.

“You’ve already made a house. How long was I unconscious?”

“Only since last night,” Anna said with a casual shrug.

“You constructed all this in a single morning?” Elsa’s jaw had dropped. “Where did you get this material…”

As she examined the blue strips of fabric and the makeshift netting her eyes grew wide and wider as she inspected herself to find that she was clad in nothing but her shift dress undergarment.

“That’s my dress!”

“Ya, you had enough fabric in that thing I could’ve made a whole other house! And the boning from the corset was a real help getting things sturdy.”

“You undressed me!”

“So? We’re sisters last I checked.”

Elsa’s modesty couldn’t help but notice that Anna was equally in a state of undress unfit for a lady. She wore a pair of simple slacks that ended at the middle of her calves and tied around a low waist with a piece of rope. Her shirt, or lack thereof, was missing a few buttons, a few sleeves, and several inches too short. Her bare ankles mocked Elsa’s sensibilities and were only eager to point out that Elsa’s ankles were also parading around the sand in nothing more than her pale skin.

“Last I checked, you told me that my sister had died. So who are you to take off my dress?” she said hoping that she wasn’t blushing.

Anna sat in her makeshift hovel with a sudden onset of melancholy.

“…You’re right. I’m sorry. The sister that you knew may have died, but perhaps I was hoping… considering that I saved you and all, that you could be… this Anna’s sister.”

Elsa came over, her heart suddenly heavy as she watched this brutish pirate transform into the girl she last saw ten years ago. She sat down next to Anna, their exposed freckled shoulders barely a hairsbreadth away.

“Anna… why did you run away?”

Anna looked down, twiddling her thumbs.

“I… I was betrothed to Duke Weasleton.”

Elsa tried to recall but confusion had clouded her memory.

“Weasleton? But he was so old. And didn’t he—”

“Die? Yes, he did die. After I left a letter opener in his eye socket.”

“Oh my God, Anna!

“Mother was going to disown me and sell me to a brothel. No way was I going to let that happen so I ran. Pretended I was a boy and stowed away on the first ship bound for the Caribbean.”

Without giving Elsa any time to dwell on her history, Anna changed the subject.

“I thought you were destined for the cloister?”

Taking the cue, Elsa obliged her sister’s request.

“I was, but after you left… I became mother’s only method for climbing the social ladder. You know I was never comfortable at social gatherings. Mother basically told me to smile, and not say anything or do anything. Conceal, don’t feel. Eventually, I caught the eye of one of the ‘princes’ of the West India Trading Company. I think you and I have spoken more words in the last few minutes than he and I spoke during our entire marriage, which admittedly was only just before we set sail.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry?”

“For cutting your husband’s head off. Let’s have a toast!”

Anna reached behind her and pulled out from regions unknown a massive coconut. She reached around her other side and pulled out from different parts unknown a large knife. With the coconut in one hand and the knife in the other, she dexterously spun the coconut in her palm while slashing with the knife in precise timing to cleanly create a neat opening off the top of the husky surface.

“How did you do that?”

“Lots of practice. You should have seen the gash on my hand the first time I tried.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

Anna gave her sister the newly opened coconut and proceeded to open her own in the same fashion. With her own drink now ready, she motioned to Elsa’s coconut.

“To dead husbands and forgotten mothers!”

Elsa, a bit hesitant, found herself suddenly distracted. The scent of the freshly opened coconut combined with the stare of those green emeralds triggered a flutter she did not understand. She mentally shook the feeling away, concussion no doubt, and lightly knocked her coconut against the other.

“And to new sisters!”

\\///////////////////////////////

I have been stranded on an island with an unexpected companion. I don’t know how long it’s been. Time seems to pass differently here.

A moment ago, I found myself watching her for what seemed like hours. She was squatting on the beach, her elbows propped on her knees with her hands between them while she stared most intently at the sand below. I noticed that she was watching a crab enter to and fro from its burrow. At one point the crab came out of the hole and started scurrying about with its claws in the air like a little dance. Then Anna raised her own hands into the air, made little clamping motions, and started to scuttle across the sand after her newfound companion. It was absolutely absurd, this grown woman scurrying like a crab on the sand.

I can’t seem to reconcile this image of my sister who is just as boisterous, playful as ever, with this other woman. She hunted a wild boar, which she carried over her shoulders, seemingly with no effort, through the forest, barefoot, without a shred of decency. I could see the muscles of her arms tense under the weight. The freckled skin of her stomach has seen far more sun than any woman ought to. The heat and exertion caused beads of sweat to travel down her neck and across her collar bone…

It is a sight that I have neither seen nor read in my entire life and yet it is here and churning with the image of my sister scuttling across the beach. How do I reconcile such a thing?

And to make matters worse, she does not conduct herself as a lady should at all. As we explored the island, we hiked through rather rugged terrain. The ground was painful and I took quite a stumble. She had the gall to reach out and assist me as if she was a gentleman! I took the hand, grateful for the assistance nonetheless and she continued to aid me through our trek. As we scaled a wet rock, she lifted me as easily as the dead boar, and as I soared through the air, our arms glistening from the water and sweat, I couldn’t help but look up into those eyes. I thought I knew those eyes but… sometimes they stare at me in such a way…

How do I navigate these torrential feelings as they spin around my thoughts like the whirlpool of Odysseus? How can a single person be your oldest, dearest friend and yet also someone who you’ve just met… and who makes your heart skip a beat when you reach out and take her hand…and look into her eyes…?

“Wat’cha doin?”

Startled, Elsa nearly jumped out of her skin and sent the paper in her hand flying into the air where she hastily grabbed them to whisk away from her sister’s prying eyes. Anna had magically appeared behind Elsa as she sat on the beach.

A shudder trembled across Elsa’s skin as she felt the linen fabric of Anna’s shirt press against her bare shoulder blades. Two freckled arms wrapped around her shoulders and embraced her in a close but casual fashion. Yet Elsa did not receive such affection casually. She bolted up and spun to look at her younger sister who knelt in the sand with her head cocked like a confused fox.

“Really, Anna, why do you not act like a lady!”

Her response to this was to lean back, causing her shirt to stretch against her chest, and bend one knee over the other as she gave a taunting eyebrow raise to Elsa.

“I am perfectly capable of acting ‘like a lady’. In fact, It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Elsa looked away at the sight sprawled out on the sand, basking in the sun and taunting her with wiggling eyebrows.

“Oh really?”

“You didn’t see my closet of dresses in my cabin. I can pull off quite a figure if I want to.”

“When does a pirate have need of dresses?”

Anna grew a mischievous smile. She rose from the sand and slowly sauntered over to where Elsa was standing.

“It’s one of my favorite cons. I go into one of the big cities, Port Royal or Havanna, I insert myself into the circles of aristocratic socialites whose husbands are either too preoccupied or too deceased to notice. I mingle, I dance…”

She reached out with her hand and placed a single pad of the tip of her middle finger on the edge of Elsa’s shoulder so lightly that Elsa barely felt it and yet a new shudder rocked her entire body.

“Maybe I enter the service of a… very respectable woman…”

The fingertip slowly danced across Elsa’s shoulder. It skipped over the sleeve and made its meandering way toward the base of her neck. All the while, Anna stepped around to once again place herself against the rapidly stiffening back of her sister. That single middle finger now moved in short, deliberate strokes, up and down, gradually undulating pressure against Elsa’s neck.

Her head couldn’t help but lean to the side, coaxing the finger to lengthen its stride, where she unwittingly leaned into the soft whisper of Anna’s voice against her ear.

“As I…delicately pull at the laces that bind such a… woman of standing, releasing her from her monotonous life of apathy, I let my voice carry between the edge of my lips and the arch of her ear…

‘What more will you have of me, my lady…’”

“I would have you devour me.”

“What?”

“What?” Elsa’s entire body and mind froze.

I didn’t… I couldn’t! Did I just…?

“Did you just—”

“I just— I… jest! Yes, I jest, obviously. Really, Anna, you think I don’t know how to tease you back. I may be socially inept but I can surely tease my sister!”

Elsa broke free from her sister’s thrall, clutching the papers against her thundering chest. She shuffled down the beach, her legs as rigid as wooden pillars kicking up sand in their wake. Anna watched the pitiful sight stumble over a piece of driftwood, only to pick herself back up and continue on as if nothing had happened.

\\///////////////////////////////

Conceal, don’t feel. I must conceal for I can not possibly feel what I am feeling. I can not. I do not. I love my sister because she is my sister. I have missed this connection for so long… my mind is just confused. The heat, the concussion, the sheer insanity of this place. I should find Anna. Make sure that she didn’t take what I said as anything other than sisterly teasing.

As if on cue, Anna came bounding down the beach, arm swinging wildly to get Elsa’s attention.

“Els! Come look what I found!”

She grabbed Elsa’s arm and started pulling her back toward the way she came. Elsa kept pace this time and her arm relaxed into the grip that led it down the moonlit beach. They made their way over rocks and turned a corner into a small cove. Anna stopped and spread her arms out with a beaming smile of excitement.

“I don’t understand”, was all Elsa could think to say.

To Elsa’s horror, Anna lifted her shirt over her thick, maroon locks and threw it on the rocks. She now stood half-naked in the silver rays of the night sky.

Oh, dear God in Heaven and all that is good and decent in this world and the next…

“Just watch!”

Anna looked out on the water, as black as night with only the moonbeams cascading across the surface. Then in one swift motion, she dove in.

And Elsa’s eyes became filled with magic.

The water bloomed into a burst of color. Waves of blue light rippled across the surface, radiating out from the body that had penetrated it. Anna stood in the shallow water, surrounded by the light of heaven trapped within the waves of a starlight sea.

“What magic is this…?”

“Isn’t it awesome! They are like, tiny little animals that glow at night. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?!”

“Never…”

“Well, don’t be shy Els. Dive in! They don’t bite or anything.”

Elsa hesitated. She looked at Anna, then at the black water below her, then at the mystical blue speckles dotting the surface around Anna’s waist, like a dress sewn by fairies that twinkled in the starlight. She placed one timid toe on the surface of the water and gasped in shock as spirals of blue light erupted from her touch. She looked once more to her sister who gave her the most reassuring smile in the entire world.

And she dove in.

Elsa soared through the azure sky, her loose hair flowing behind her as she came up from the surface near where stars in the sea met the stars that studded the pale skin of her sister’s body.

I can’t. I don’t! I won’t…

They stood inches apart, wading in the night sky like star-crossed constellations desperate to reach out and touch only to be perpetually far apart for eternity.

I mustn’t……..

She felt Anna peering deep into her soul. Did she wonder what was going on behind her eyes, as blue and brilliant as the luminescence surrounding their bodies? Could she sense the howling winds? Could she feel the thundering heartbeat through the water?

Would she feel it?

I… Oh to hell with it!!

The raging storm crashed against the surface. Hard and heavy and full of unbridled desire and longing. All at once, Elsa had released the torrent within her, letting the swells of her passion wash over her sister’s lips, her skin, her entire body, and soul. The magic had struck like lightning.

And then it was gone.

Anna pushed her sister away. That chasm of the cosmos restored.

“Elsa, what the hell are you—?”

“I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truthfully.” Elsa stood her ground in the heavens that would deny her.

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

“I don’t understand Elsa…”

“Do you see that girl, looking from her bedroom window? Her hand on the glass. Too afraid to go outside, too afraid to call out your name. Because when I look at you I see this girl. I see her laughing and playing and rolling around in the mud. But I also see this woman. Strong and kind. She makes me laugh, makes me inspired! I tremble when faced with the perils of the entire world, and yet she stands on top like it’s her domain! Tell me that I am insane. Tell me that all you see is that girl in the window and then I can be rid of these feelings that plague me for this impossible woman who can not be both sister and lover! Please—!!”

“YES, that is ALL I see!”

Anna was trembling. She still looked deep into her sister, locked by the pleading gaze no matter how much she wanted to turn away.

“That girl… that big sister who I left behind. When I look at you that is all I see.”

Elsa’s breathing finally started to slow. The words that she pleaded to hear had broken through the clouds of her heart and the calm would soon take over. The acceptance of what she already knew to be the way of the universe would come. Once back to civilization, she could resume her life. Banish the madness and—

“I saw her… every day. Everywhere. She was there when I joined a crew. She stood by me as I learned to man the wheel. I would not have survived a single day out here without her by my side.”

Elsa’s breathing had slowed to the point of imperception.

“…I saw her in the women that I knew. In…the women that I loved…It sounds so wrong but when you’re a young woman who relied on the faded memory of a long-lost sister for your support you can’t help but find that sister in any amount of affection you find! I had long accepted that it was my madness and I would take that madness wherever I go. And now that madness has taken a hold of you. When you came back into my life, I thought I could bury it, but instead, I passed it on to you.”

Each woman now turned away from the other, no longer able to meet each other’s solemn gaze.

“When we get off this island, I will go back to my ship and I will bring you to Curaçao and we will go our separate ways.”

Elsa simply nodded.

“I would still like to write you… if I can?” Anna’s voice had lost her usual commanding confidence.

“I would like that…” Elsa’s voice could barely carry itself over the narrow strip of water between them.

Anna slowly made her way across the water to the rocks where her discarded shirt lay. She buttoned the few remaining buttons over her chest when she heard the whisper of the water moving behind her.

Her dress clung to her body, revealed in the glow. Their eyes met for the first time once more and an inexplicable force dragged Anna back into the water and in the embrace of the siren below. Elsa’s hand caressed Anna’s cheek. Her finger traced lines down Anna’s neck. The span of cosmos between them receded until the storm that had once rocked both their celestial cores had dissipated and all that was left was their lips crossing the horizon. And Elsa felt her sister’s name on her breath once more as she finally released it to the wind.

“Would one night of madness be too much to ask?”

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm #lime #cw: violence

12 notes · View notes

purplebass · 4 years ago

Text

Holograms

This is something new that I’ve written for @lucieblckthorn 💜 I know there are some good TLH/TDA time travel one shots out there, but I also wanted to write mine, so here it is.

Ship/Characters: TLH gang, Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn, Mina Carstairs Rating: T Prompt: Kit, Ty and Mina find themselves in 1903 and meet the TLH gang

“Jamie? Matthew? Thomas?”

Christopher’s voice echoed through the stairs that led to the laboratory in the basement. James and Matthew were at the Institute, and they run downstairs to check on him once they heard him call for their help.

“Are you okay, Kit?” James asked, looking around the room that used to be Henry’s lab once upon a time. Relief filled him when he realized that there wasn’t anything on fire. “I thought you were hurt.”

Christopher shrugged and adjusted his glasses. His hand left a black mark on his cheek but he didn’t seem to care. “I’m good, thanks for asking. Don’t you notice something wrong?”

“It seems all in order to me,” Matthew commented with a smirk. “Considering that there are no broken chairs or tables or glass on the floor. That’s a new achievement for you, Kit.”

“Christopher is right, though,” James interjected, moving closer to the furthest wall in the room. “Someone has been through the portal.”

Both heads turned and examined the area James had just pointed out. “It’s true, Jamie. The portal has been activated. Was there an Enclave meeting or something that you know of?” Christopher wondered as he untied his protective jacket that he only used when he was in the lab.

“My parents are here. I’ve just seen papa, so I doubt it.”

“Then who could have…?” Matthew began, but then something caught his eyes in the portal. “By the angel, who is that?”

James and Christopher were as speechless as Matthew when a little girl who could have been around two strutted into the laboratory.

“James! It’s a baby!” Christopher said.

“We can see that,” Matthew remarked. “The problem is, who is she and what is she doing here?”

James ignored the two and walked to the little girl trying not to scare her. “Are you lost, little one?”

The girl was petite and had deep dark brown eyes and dark hair. She didn’t say anything, she just put her finger in her mouth and clutched on the teddy bear she was carrying.

“I think we should cross the portal and take her back,” Matthew offered.

“What? No. We can’t do that! What if we go somewhere and we can’t go back?” Kit said.

“Christopher is right. What if we cross the portal and it closes on us and we’re the ones who are stuck?” James noticed, trying to take the kid’s hand. The little girl gripped her hand around James’ really hard, then she looked up at him with adoration as if he was the most beautiful thing on Earth. “Oh, she trusts me,” he added.

“James, she seems to have a thing for you.”

“Gross,” Christopher commented.

Matthew glared at Kit and rolled his eyes. “My comment didn’t have a double meaning.”

“This is not the time to argue. Shall we take her to Lucie before I ask my parents how we should handle this?”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

James, Christopher and Matthew found Lucie in the training room with Cordelia.

“Do you want something, James?” Lucie asked as she tried to duck because Cordelia was aiming her sword at her.

“We have a guest,” Matthew said, but neither Cordelia nor Lucie stopped their practice fight to look at who the guest was.

“Would you please not ignore us, Luce?” James shouted to get her attention. The little girl held on his hand with such strength he thought she might not be human.

Lucie and her parabatai halted their movements and grabbed a towel from a bench nearby to wipe the sweat off their faces. It was Lucie who noticed the baby. “By the angel, Jamie!!! Where did you steal a child? Do you know that kidnapping a mundane is punishable by law?”

“Calm down, Lu,” James reprimanded his sister, who usually imagined the most creative scenarios when it came to their lives. “We did not kidnap this kid. We found her in the lab in the basement.”

“She’s adorable,” Cordelia commented, crossing the room to get closer to her. She lowered to her height so that they were at the same eye level. “What is your name, baby?”

Everyone in the training room waited for the girl to say something, anything. “Mi-mi, Na-na, Mi-mi,” the baby girl replied.

“She’s just blabbering nonsense,” Matthew concluded.

“Maybe she’s just shy, don’t you think?” Lucie noted, crossing her arms on her chest expectantly.

Matthew was about to reply to Lucie when two people barged inside of the training room and closed the door behind them. They hadn’t realized they weren’t alone.

“I told you to get that Magnus Bane to help us,” the blond guy said.

“He was having a vacation with his husband! And you know that we can’t use the damn portal just like that. We can’t do like that time we tried to revive…” said the second guy, who had a mop of black hair which reminded the people present in the room of somebody else.

“Who the heck are you?” asked the one with golden hair. He had a set of deep blue eyes, but that wasn’t the trait that Matthew, Christopher, Cordelia, Lucie and James noticed first.

Matthew advanced towards them. “What is that expression? Heck? What does it mean?”

“Math, that’s not the problem here,” James interjected. “Who are you?”

The two guys exchanged a glance and whispered something in each other’s ears before speaking. “Look, dude, you are in no position to ask the questions here. And why are you dressed as if you were in the Victorian era or something?”

“Edwardian, we’re in the Edwardian era,” Lucie corrected him.

“Are you kidding, right?” The guy with black hair wondered in astonishment, then tugged on the other guy’s jacked and pointed at the little girl next to James. “Your sister is here!”

“What the flying -! How did you come here, kiddo?” he said, running towards the baby girl and hugging her. She hugged him back but she still wouldn’t leave James’ hand. The teenager glared at James, but James grinned smugly at him.

“Now you’re going to tell us who you are, okay? And why are you here.”

“Speaking of, where are we? I mean, which year is this?” the other one asked.

They all seemed confused as they gazed at each other. “Could they be from the future?” Christopher wondered out loud. “It’s not impossible, you know? Uncle Henry and Magnus Bane created the portals, what if the shadowhunters who come after us shall create even greater things?”

Some of them nodded in agreement.

“Do you also know Magnus Bane?” Blond guy asked.

“He’s one of our allies and one of my parents’ old friends,” James explained. “Speaking of…”

The door of the training room opened to reveal James’ father William, who was holding some papers in his hand. He looked at the young girls and boys scattered around the wide space with skepticism, tilting his head when he focused on the strangers.

“I heard someone run and came to check. Is someone hurt?”

“We’re fine, mister Herondale. Thank you for your concern,” Cordelia offered.

“You’re William Herondale?” The blonde guy guessed.

Will examined the young boy from head to toe, frowning at his weird clothes. “That would be me.”

Blond guy turned to black-haired guy as if he had just remembered that he had something on the stove and had forgotten to turn it off. “It’s him, Ty. Him! What the heck, wait till I tell my-“

“I guess you’ve come here through the portal, haven’t you?” Will stopped their exchange.

“Yeah? We come from 2015. We activated it because we wanted to go back to a specific moment in the past because the book we’ve stolen from Magnus Bane’s house said so- “blond guy put a hand on Ty’s mouth.

“Would you shut up, Ty! He doesn’t need to know all of these things! And he’s the director of the London Institute, he will call the Clave and we’ll go to jail and we’ll lose our marks.”

“Stop being dramatic, Kit! Ugh!”

“Kit and Ty, huh? Shadowhunters from the future thanks to a portal. Interesting,” Will commented with a grin. “Shall we make an agreement? I’ll help you go back to 2015 or something – does the world live until then? Amazing! – but you have to promise me that you won’t do it again.”

“But my sister –“ Ty said, but stopped abruptly. His whole features darkened. Kit patted his shoulder and they looked at each other. A look of understanding and affection.

“Dude, we agree, uhm, William Herondale,” Kit said, offering his hand to him. “Agree handshake?”

“What? Ha, okay, Kit,” he agreed, and he and Kit shook hands. “Alright. I think I should call Magnus now, because what do I know about going back to the future, huh?”

Their moment was broken by a: “by the angel!” uttered by Cordelia, which made everyone turn towards her. “You’ll cut yourself, dear,” she told the baby, who was gripping her hands on Cortana’s handle but she still couldn’t hold it properly since she was not strong enough. They were sitting on a bench. “Cortana isn’t rejecting her,” she added, awed by the fact that her sword was not pushing the child away.

“Maybe because she is a child?” Lucie offered, but Cordelia shrugged.

Will stared at the little child with dark hair and dark brown eyes and smiled. He had just thought that the baby reminded him of someone, but he wouldn’t say out loud nor he would ask Kit and Ty whether his suspicion was true. He could hinder the future of these kids or he may just delude himself that she was… “It’s time to go, kids. Come with me. I’ll take the baby if you like.”

Kit and Ty agreed and they left the training room with Will holding the baby in his arms.

“Wait until I tell them,” Kit said to Ty, and at that, Will grinned again.

A few hours later, after Magnus Bane had come and blamed Will for not letting him sleep his beauty sleep since he was still adjusting to the London time zone, he was able to create an enchantment that would bring Kit, Ty and the little baby girl to their time.

“I don’t know if it will work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. I’m actually enthralled by this!”

“You just like that the future you are able to cast such magic,” Kit commented, at which Magnus glared at him.

“If the guys from the future are all so conceited and direct, I don’t know if I want to live forever.”

“Trust me, you do,” Kit winked, and Magnus had no idea of what he was talking about.

As Kit and Ty and the girl were about to cross the portal to hopefully get to their future, Tessa arrived to the basement.

“Will, bach, you’re here.”

“Tessa,” the guy named Kit murmured. Will shot him a glance and smiled like a fool, which made Kit uneasy.

“It’s time for you to go back or to go forward as you please,” Will urged them. “Your parents may be worried for you.”

“My parents are dead,” Ty said. “But his parents…”

Kit elbowed Ty. “Yes, yes, I agree. They’ll be super worried because me and my sister have disappeared. We better go. Ty?”

Ty rolled his eyes and grabbed Kit’s hand, then they turned one last time and crossed the portal and they were gone.

“Do you think they’ve made it?” Will asked Magnus.

Magnus shrugged, unbothered. “I guess only time will tell. By the way, I’m suing you for all the time you’ve made me lose all of these years, William.”

“Let’s say we believe you, Magnus,” Will smirked, then Magnus started climbing the stairs to leave the basement.

He and Tessa were alone now, and she was confused. “Who were those people?”

Will took her hands in his and he kissed both palms. “Just people from the future.”

“Just people from the future? I wonder who they were and why they ended up here,” Tessa said, squeezing her husband’s hand and leading him towards the stairs so they could leave.

Will smirked but tried not to appear too excited because of the recent events. “I wonder that too, but we shall never know. Ugh, I’m hungry, Tess. Aren’t you?”

“That’s why I went to look for you. Dinner has been ready for ages, Will.”

“You should have eaten without me. You shouldn’t starve because your silly husband is dealing with dudes from the future,” he said with a jovial tone.

Tessa’s face contorted in confusion again. “Dude… what?”

“I heard those fellas say it. No idea what it means.”

“Then you shouldn’t say it, Will. What if it’s a bad word?” Tessa admonished him with a smile, not entirely convinced that was a bad word in the future.

“I doubt it or I’m going through that portal to scold those two.”

#tlh #the last hours #tsc #tsc fanfiction #tsc fan fic #james herondale #matthew fairchild #christopher lightwood #kit herondale #kit rook #ty blackthorn #mina carstairs #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #will herondale #tessa gray #magnus bane #tweety.writes

85 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

Note

this isn't off any prompt list but hero/villian indruck where they have a meetcute and both desperately try to keep the other from finding out their alter ego as their relationship gets more and more serious while simultaneously trying to keep their rival away from their seemingly innocent love interest for fear of endangering them

Here you go!

“You win this round, Knight,” The Moth hovers, mechanical wings flapping and smile spreading across his face. The blood trickling down his nose doesn’t faze him in the slightest, “But I’m sure we’ll see each other quite soon.”

He flies off before Duck can grab him, leaving the hero standing, arms crossed (and cross in general), his quiet evening at home ruined by The Moth’s need cause trouble at the Governors Ball.

He’d just gotten to a good part in his book too.

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

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry!”

Duck looks up as he’s wiping coffee from his lap to find a tall, gangly, angular stranger hurriedly tossing down his bag to help clean up the spill.

“I’m sorry, I get lost in my thoughts sometimes and oh, darn it all.” In his eagerness to help, the taller man splashes coffee onto this white tank top, giving him a belly splotch that matches the one on Ducks green t-shirt.

“It’s uh, no big deal, ain’t like I was in my Sunday best and, uh, that ain’t a library book.”

“Oh no your book.” The other man lifts the stained paperback, looks at it sadly, “At least let me buy you a replacement.” He’s holding the book to his chest now, clearly hopeful that Duck will let him make amends.

Between the red-brown eyes, the tousled, silver-dyed hair, and the earnest, odd smile, he has an air of disheveled charm that, at his age, Duck ought to be past finding adorable.

Instead, he smiles back, “Sure thing. Bookstore two blocks down oughta have copies, and a little cafe to boot. You let me buy you a replacement drink, I’ll let you buy me a new book. Deal?”

The other man nods, hands flapping, “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”

Duck grins, suddenly excited, before noticing he’s a bit sticky.

“Meet me there in an hour so we can both change?”

“It’s a date.”

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

It’s a date? Agh, of all the ways he could have phrased it, why did his blasted, traitorous mouth choose that one?

He stands awkwardly in one corner of the cafe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pink and yellow cardigan. Was this too flamboyant? He doesn’t even know if the other man is gay. He supposes he could look into the futures to determine the answer to that, but doing so feels rude.

This is why he turned to supervillainy in the first place; he’s terrible with people.

He wishes he’d worn his glasses. They’re technically a tool of his trade, but they make him feel safe.

“Uh, howdy.”

He glances up, finds the man from before looking at him. Now that he’s not racked with panic trying to clean up a spill, he has a chance to take in just how much his type the man is. Short, but bear like (”a teddy bear” his mind supplies, unhelpfully), with green eyes and charming, unhurried vibe to him. His drawl does remind him of a certain hero who’s always in his way, but he won’t hold that against him.

“Buy you a coffee?”

“Yes, please. Ah, um, I guess I should introduce myself; I’m Indrid.”

“Duck” he holds out his hand and Indrid takes it, enjoys the warmth and strength in his grip, “Nice to meet you.”

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

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Duck tightens Beacon around The Moth, who tears at the blade with his retractable claws. Duck learned about those the hard way, when the villain extended them during one of their first meetings. The slash broke the skin, something rare for Duck on account of his durability.

“And you have got to come up with some more creative lines, hero.” The Moth snarls, “you have used that one twice before now. Which is also how many times you have forgotten about this.” The villain throws himself sideways and down with enough force to yank Duck to his knees and loosen his grip. As his sword clatters to the ground, red powder fills his eyes.

“Gah, jesus, not that shit again.” His eyes sting, and as he pats the ground for Beacon he hears the scrape of metal moving away from him. Beacons hilt disappears into the mist, dragged slowly back by The Moth’s foot.

Duck looks up at him through watering eyes, trying not to breath in the dust.

“Well, you got me at your mercy. You gonna start gloatin about your evil plans or some shit?”

A light, sharp laugh, “Why would I waste my time in such a way? Oh no, I shall be making off with my prize. And making sure you don’t follow me.”

He raises his foot, and Ducks vision whites out on one side as he crumples.

He should be more worried about the villain getting away with the schematics for the ApCorps latest government security features.

Mostly, he’s worried he’ll have a black eye tomorrow.

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

“Hel-oh goodness, Duck, your eye.” Indrid opens the door a half second before Duck knocks, then quickly cups his cheeks to take a closer look.

“Looks worse than it is, sugar, don’t worry. And, uh, surprise.” He produces a small bouquet of Irises from he behind his back. Indrid beams, taking them with squeak of delight.

“They’re lovely, but what’s the occasion?” He’s smiling almost like he knows, almost like he just wants to hear him say it.

“Know, uh, know I said I wanted to take things slow, but I realized we been datin a month I ain’t given you anythin.”

“You bought me coffee that first time. And we have each bought dinner for the other multiple times.” Indrid takes his hand, drawing him inside.

“I know but, well, kinda wanted to do somethin a little more special.”

“Any time with you is special.”

Duck snorts, “Cornball.”

Indrid kisses, “I learned from the best.”

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

“What can I say, I learned from the best.” Indrid grins at The Knight, who is currently hanging upside down in an elegantly simple snare.

“I got the idea from that unpleasant sword of yours. Keep your enemy tied up nice and tight to keep them out of your OW, ow, alright I should have seen that coming.” His glasses are now cracked from the Knight headbutting him.

“I’m impressed you could manage that upside down.”

“Drop these fuckin chains off me and I’ll show you somethin real impressive.”

Indrid tilts his head, “Tempting, but I have a pressing engagement tomorrow morning. Not to mention I need to get this,” he pats the painting he just lifted from the house of a man with a gold toilet, “somewhere safe. Until we meet again.” He offers a mocking salute, and takes flight.

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

“Again?” Indrid offers, pressed against warm, sweat-tinged expanse of Duck’s chest, his heart beating in time with the rapid rise and fall of Ducks breathing.

“Nope. Not that the body and mind ain’t willin, but the mind and body also got work tomorrow. Damn that felt good.” He usually tops, but with Indrid he’s found it more variable; some nights, like tonight, the other man fucks him into the bed, or over the nearest table, or however far they get before Duck can’t stand waiting anymore. Other nights, Indrid gets on all fours so Duck can fuck him with the strap, drops to his knees before they make it past the entryway, tugging at Duck’s belt buckle with little whimpers.

“Mmmm, it was magnificent my love.” Indrid goes stone still in his arms as that last syllable flutters in the air.

Duck brushes strands of pale hair from his forehead, “I love you too, ‘Drid.”

His boyfriend flops down in relief, “oh thank goodness that’s the way it went.”

“As if I could feel any other way about you.”

Indrid mutters something that might be “cornball” into his chest, yawns and nestles closer with whisper of “love my teddy bear.”

“Love you too, sugar.”

Shit.

He’s in love with Indrid.

Bad things happen to superhero love interests. Very bad things. He can’t bear losing him, but no one beside the other members of the Pine Gaurd know his secret identity. He’s not ready to tell him yet. Soon, but not yet.

Indrid rolls sleepily onto his side and Duck goes with him, turning into the little spoon in his embrace. God, what if an enemy decides to kidnap him, hurt him, just to get to Duck?

Then again, no villain has singled him out, save for one.

Which he’ll need to deal with that one as soon as he can.

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

“Give up while you still can, Moth!”

“Not a chance.” Indrid hisses back, clutching the gash on his arm from the sword. What has gotten into the Knight today? Usually he only fights Indrid the amount needed to stop whatever crime he’s busy committing.

Today he’s trying to destroy him.

He’s been training, that much is clear, he has new moves that Indrid finds difficult to anticipate in a fight, and a fire in his eyes that heightens Indrid’s guard.

As he flits out of reach of yet another strike, his goal of thievery long forgotten in favor of not getting chopped in half, he tries to determine the source of the change. What would make him fight harder?

Duck. He’d burn this city to the ground, tear every hero in it to pieces, if Duck were in danger.

He reaches the edge of the building, but before stepping off to safety he turns.

“You win tonight, Knight. But do give that new lover of yours my regards.”

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

“Hey, Indrid?”

“Yes?” His boyfriend looks up from his sketches.

“I was wonderin if, uh, if you’d like to go to a fancier place than normal? Barclay got me an in at La Lune, thought we could go on Friday. There’s, uh, there’s somethin I wanna talk about.”

“Is is a marriage proposal or breaking up with me?”

“What? No!”

Indrid chuckles, “I am teasing. Mostly.” He bounces his eyebrows and Duck rolls his eyes in response.

“Thought afterwards, might be nice to go out to the park and stargaze, tell you what I need to in private.”

“That sounds lovely, my love.”

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

The stars are aligning in Indrid’s favor this week.

Yesterday, when the Knight tried to corner him on his way out of his lair, he took the gamble of getting close, earning him the reward of landing a deep slash on The Knight’s cheek. One he won’t be able to heal by tonight. Whether he’s in his hero get-up or his civilian clothes, Indrid will be able to spot him.

And tonight, he has it on good authority that the Knight will be appearing in this block of the city. The same block on which sits La Lune. Indrid can go to dinner with his boyfriend right after removing the biggest threat to said boyfriend.

He’s perched on the roof of the restaurant, steering clear of the large skylight. His glasses scan the streets, the windows all around him.

But this is taking longer than anticipated. He hasn’t looked too far into the futures for the night, since his growing romantic side wants whatever Duck tells him to be a true surprise.

He pulls out his phone, swipes to his conversation with Duck. Beneath the photo of a Scarlet Tanager Duck sent him from his work at the ranger station he types, running behind, will be there shortly after 7.

He receives back, NP, see you soon sugar with a kissy face.

The minutes tick by, the spring sun setting inch by inch behind the downtown skyline. At 7:05, he peeks through the skylight, spots Duck. He can’t see his face all the way in the mood lighting of the restaurant, but he knows his gait, his profile.

At 7:30 there is still no sign of his nemesis. He’s been scanning and staring and searching, looking at his phone only once after it buzzes many times. He has four missed calls and five texts

Duck: ETA? Damn, this place is even fancier than I thought.

Duck: Everything okay? If you’re close, I can order us some appetizers so you don’t got to wait to eat.

Duck: Can’t wait to see you.

Duck: Are you still coming? Are you okay?

Duck: Sugar?

That last one comes as he’s reading the others. He peers down through the skylight, sees Duck stare at his phone for a ten count, gnawing his lip. Then he looks up at the sky, eyes shut, as if weighing a decision.

Indrid’s heart plummets.

There’s a gash on Duck’s cheek.

A gash he put there.

Every coincidence, every strange incident he’d pushed to side, lost in the happiness of their courtship, floods his mind.

Suddenly, he knows what Duck was going to tell him.

With shaking fingers, he types,

So sorry, my battery died at the worst of all times, I borrowed a charger from a good samaritan. I’m nearly there.

It takes him two and a half minutes to descend the building and change into his evening wear that he stashed nearby.

At three minutes, he’s walking through the doors, Duck jumping up and hugging him before he even makes the table.

“Sorry for, uh, textin so much, I guess I got a bit nervous. Y’know how shit can get here; can be walkin home and suddenly a supervillain is wreckin shit and you’re collateral.”

“I understand.” He takes his seat, Duck relaxing into the chair opposite him, “in fact, my love, I understand a great deal.”

Indrid reaches into his pocket, producing a pair of red glasses. He slips them on, knowing the other diners will think nothing of it.

“I look familiar, don’t I?”

Duck stares so long, moving so little, that Indrid fears he sent him into some kind of shock.

“Get out. Now.” Duck’s tone is level, his eyes glinting with threat.

“Duck, please, I, I want to explain-”

“Out. I ain’t gonna tangle with you tonight, but I don’t wanna see you ever again.”

Wordlessly, Indrid removes the glasses, and walks into the night.

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

Indrid is out of ideas.

For the first week after his confession, he searched the futures religiously for any sign that Duck would come after him, would reveal his apartment to the other heroes.

It never came.

He hasn’t stolen anything in two months.

He sent a single apology letter to Duck, doing his best to explain the situation. Watched the futures narrow down to a single one; Duck reading it, then tearing it up.

He even sent anonymous notes to the Pine Guard, altering them to several oncoming disasters or the kind of supervillainy that has a body count.

Wounded pride, a loss of purpose, a wave of self-loathing, and a dozen other complexly unpleasant emotions could form the center of his world.

But it all comes down to one simple feeling: he misses Duck. Misses his smile, his sense of humor, his strange laugh, the safety he felt by his side, and endless list of things stripped from his life by his own actions.

Which is why it has come to this.

He sets up the camera, and starts recording.

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

“Hey, Duck, I think you should see this.”

Duck plods into the main control room, where Ned is fiddling with the video feed while Aubrey waves him to sit by her.

“I swear to fuck if it’s that police chief tryin to recruit us again-”

“Nah, Aubrey and I finally got through to him.” Mama tosses out from the corner where she’s busily whittling a wooden duck.

The screen flickers blue, and then Duck feels the opposing pulls of revulsion and longing as Indrid’s face appears. His glasses are off, but he’s otherwise in his full villain get-up.

“Hello Duck, and, ah, I assume the rest of the Pine Guard. It is fine with me if you all listen in, but this message is ultimately for him.”

Barclay reaches over Ned to hit pause, “Duck?”

“Y’all can stay.”

The video resumes.

“I have two messages. The first is an apology; not necessarily for the things I have stolen, but for any genuine harm I caused other people, yourselves included. And I apologize once again, and as many more times as you require, Duck, for not telling you the truth sooner. In my defense, there is no easy way to admit to the man you love that you are a supervillain. All the same, I ought to have been brave enough to try, for your sake.”

Indrid sits up and Duck leans forward.

“My second message is that I am retiring from supervillainy. I could say something about a change of view on the world in general, but the truth is that villainy is less interesting without an equal to rival and banter with me. And, well, I am sure I can find other ways to fill my days. Especially if the man I care for is by my side. I should be clear that my retirement is not contingent on you reaching out to me again, Duck. Merely that it is something you may wish to know. Ah, I suppose that is all. This is the Moth, signing off for the last time. I’m sorry again, Duck. I love you.”

“Think it’s a bluff?” Aubrey asks as the screen goes dark.

“No, as one who has mastered the art of insincerity, I do not believe so.” Ned responds, switching on the lights.

Duck, for his part, says nothing.

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

Indrid rolls off the bed at the knock, rubbing his eyes as he trudges to the door, too tired to look at the futures.

“How can I…”

The sight of Duck Newton on his doorstep elicits so many emotions that he short circuits.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“So, retiring huh?”

“Yes.” He fights the urge to chew his nails.

“Guess that means you’re free to talk right now?”

“Indeed.” He steps back, allowing Duck to step in and shut the door.

“Great, Because we got a lot to talk about. But, uh, first.”

He cups Indrids cheeks, kissing him so lovingly that the former villain melts against him, gripping the front of his ranger jacket the way a falling man grasps at a cliff.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers, and before he has time to hate the crack in his voice, Duck is kissing him again, guiding him slowly and surely to the couch, murmuring in between kisses.

“Missed you too, so much, goddamn, couldn’t stop thinkin about you, love you so much ‘Drid, wanna make things right, we’re gonna make ‘em right, I promise.”

Indrid glances at the futures, sees that in all of them they do, in fact, end up having a long, serious conversation, one that ends in even softer kisses and Duck curled around him in his bed.

But there’s still a few more minutes for him to savor being here, safe and secure, in the arms of his hero.

#prompt fills #superhero au #indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #duck x indrid

58 notes · View notes

detroitbecomeyandere · 6 years ago

Text

Hank Somnophilia

Here’s the brainchild of me and @indifferent-depravity that nobody ask for. Come get y’alls foxy grandpa smut!

3 am-the witching hour. Hank sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly into his fourth glass of whiskey, reflecting on the events that put him in such a precarious situation. When you first started at the DPD, bright-eyed and eager, something indescribable stirred within him and he took you under his wing immediately. In kind, you began to view him as a mentor - a father figure. You were there for him when he lost Cole and desperately tried to console him as best you could. But despite all your efforts, you couldn’t put a broken man back together.

As he tried to move on from the accident that took his son away he in turn became more protective of you. It started with “suggesting” to Fowler to refrain from putting you on riskier missions, despite knowing you were more than capable of handling the worst of the worst. His plans had succeeded, and so you were consistently assigned to secretarial duties in contrast to actual cases.

But Hank knew this was only a temporary solution to keeping you out of harm’s way. Your fiery spirit - a trait he often found to be a double-edged sword - refused to let you sit idly by and be sentenced to clerical work after years of countlessly proving yourself in the field. Truly believing there was no other choice - he decided to take you.

He just wanted the best for you, he knew that deep down somehow what he was doing was justified. He had seen firsthand how ugly this world could get and he would be damned if he would let you succumb to it.

When Hank first brought you home, he saw you as his own daughter; almost a surrogate child to fill the empty space Cole had left behind. He would let you pick the movies you two would watch before bed, allowed you to cook dinner when you were feeling up for it, just little things any father and daughter would do together.

But the longer your captivity went on, the more his thoughts and feelings shifted into forbidden territories as he found his eyes lingering on your body more and more. He tried to keep convincing himself that his intentions were pure, but somewhere down the line his “fatherly intentions” had warped.

It first started when he had let you out of your room for dinner and you started playing with Sumo as you waited. The way your eyes lit up as you smiled and laughed to yourself made his heart beat faster. After that, he became more acutely aware of the little things you did: how gently you brushed your hair, the idle dances you did as you cooked, your fingers as they delicately turned the page of a book.

His breaking point was when he saw you doing your yoga routine. He’d noticed you doing it before, but now as you bent down his eyes gravitated to your curves and the way your leggings hugged your rear.

Tossing the last of his whiskey back, he stood up with a groan and started down the hall, giving Sumo a scratch behind the ears as he passed. He paused by “your” bedroom and quietly unlocked the door to peek in and check on you.

You were resting peacefully and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for slipping a few crushed sleeping pills into your dinner that night. Unfortunately, you’d been having trouble sleeping since your unexpected arrival. The last thing he wanted was for you to be more mentally and physically exhausted than you already were.

Sometime during the night you had kicked the covers off yourself and were now sleeping flat on your back, clad only in a tank top and his boxers to cover your bottom. Apparently he didn’t think to buy women’s wear before bringing you here.You had to roll the waist up so they would comfortably fit; it gave him a clear view of your bare thighs.

Hank swallowed hard as he looked over you, lingering primarily on your breasts. The cool air had made your nipples stand out against your thin top that was pushed up your stomach, exposing more of your skin to his wandering eyes. He could feel his resolve weakening the longer he looked at you. Slowly, he moved towards your bed only stilling when his knees brushed against the mattress.

He reached out to gently touch your face when he noticed, clutched tightly in one of your arms, was a small teddy bear that he had bought Cole for his birthday, long forgotten about. Seeing it in nestled in your arms made him hesitate; he almost didn’t want to touch you, lest he ruin the innocent image before him.

Ignoring his greater instincts, he cupped your face, running his thumb lightly over your lips and marveling at how full they were. When you let out a soft noise he snatched his hand back, worried you would wake up. After a minute, your breathing had settled and he let out a sigh of relief, tentatively reaching out to touch you once more.

There was this incessant compulsion to keep going, a beast that wouldn’t be satiated until he felt every inch of you beneath him. He ran his hand over your arm, greedy fingers dipping underneath the strap of your tank top. He just stroked your shoulder for a while, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin under his calloused fingers.

Feeling bolder, he rested his other hand on your knee, gently moving up your leg until he reached the edge of your boxers. He let out a shaky breath before slipping the tips of his fingers under them, his breath hitching when he came into contact with your panty-covered core.

Hank pressed his fingers against your warmth through the fabric, eyes darting up when you made another gasp, your eyebrows furrowing momentarily before relaxing again. He diverted his attention back to between your legs as he started to rub you through your panties, circling your clit with every pass.

Something was overcoming him; becoming impatient, he removed his hands from your body and curled his fingers into the waist of your boxers, pulling them and your panties down with haste. He groaned as your center was revealed to him, cock throbbing painfully in his pants as he ran a digit over your slit to collect the wetness that had gathered there unbeknownst to you during his ministrations. He placed a finger lightly against your entrance, letting out a breathy moan as it sunk in up to the first knuckle.

This is wrong, I just wanted to be her father, he reprimanded himself as he moved his digit in and out of you, gingerly at first.

But nothing could convince him to stop, convince him this isn’t what he wanted from the moment he first laid eyes on you. The thought of your beautiful eyes and how they lit up when you two were introduced was enough to pick up his pace, as he threw all rationality to the wind.

These carnal urges continued to overwhelm him. More, I need more, he thought ravenously, like an addict chasing their next high - he knew that type all too well. He gently nudged your legs apart to give him room to settle between them, re-adjusting his hand so he could continue pumping his finger into you.

A soft whimper made him look up, heat creeping up his neck as another moan seemed to escape your parted lips. He paused briefly to admire you again, in awe. Your hair was loose, sprawled out behind you and your cheeks came alive with a pleasure-induced flush. With the faint moonlight slipping in from between the curtains, you looked almost ethereal.

Hank continued his movements, greedily adding a second finger. You were so wet, surely that was a sign that this was fine. It’ll be a one time thing, he tried to convince himself, Just for tonight.

Aiming to get his fill, he slid his hand up your stomach, pushing your tank top up to reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes. He leaned down and peppered kisses over them before sealing his lips around your nipple with a stifled groan. He carefully teased it into a hard peak before switching to the other breast, palming his clothed erection all the while. This fondling wasn’t enough to sate him - still he felt deprived. His gluttony knew no bounds and he needed more.

Licking a stripe down your stomach, he soon reached your aching core. Removing himself from you, he brought his trembling fingers up to his lips. Your essence had completely coated him and he eagerly sucked every drop, savoring it as if he were a dying man. How heavenly you tasted; he never considered himself a praying man but he would happily drop to his knees for you.

He tentatively put his tongue in between your folds, languidly dragging it up until the tip of it was hovering above your clit. A shudder wracked you, urging Hank to repeat the process, slower and deeper within you as he applied more pressure to the bundle of nerves the second time around. Again your body shook and you arched your back in response, which Hank took as an open invitation.

Flicking his tongue over your clit once more, Hank straightened, moving to crouch over you and losing his breath at the vision of tranquil ecstasy that laid beneath him. His cock twitched, lust burning in his veins like Hellfire as he watched your breasts rise and fall with each erratic breath.

He pushed his pants down far enough to free his aching member, wrapping a loose fist around himself as he lined up with your entrance, inhaling before slowly pushing into you. Leaning over on his forearms, Hank softly moaned sweet nothings in your ear as he steadily thrust into you.

You were drifting on the precipice of consciousness, a warmth blossoming in your lower abdomen as your body rocked in a steady pattern. Albeit its initial pleasantness, it was something foreign to you and you struggled to regain your senses in order to identify it. Fatigue weighed on you but you managed to force your eyes open, panic rapidly increasing as you saw Hank looming over you.

Eyes closed, lips parted, he moaned deeply as he continued his lust-fueled cadence. He pushed harder into you and you weakly gasped at the unwanted coil of pleasure; your blood ran cold as realization swept over you. Words wouldn’t form, your cries falling apart in your throat - it felt painfully dry. All you could manage was pathetically kicking your feet in attempts to get him to stop.

Your movements caught his attention and he looked down at you with the saddest eyes, sadder than usual. He carded his hands through your hair, murmuring in your ear, “don’t cry baby girl.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you had started; perhaps you conditioned yourself to cry whenever he was around. The consistency of his rutting was making you nauseous as you tried to kick at him, to no avail.

“H-hank,” you hoarsely whispered, earning you a growl of disdain in response.

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that,” he said sternly. He stilled in you, briefly to your delight, only to slam back into you harshly. A yelp escaped you as he found a new, ruthless tempo, and a newfound burst of adrenaline urged you to thrash wildly against your captor.

“Hank,” you said with more force this time, fueling his ire. He delivered a crisp slap to your cheek, something he had never done before. You skin burned and your head was feeling from the strength he put behind that hit. His fingers formed a vice around your neck, not giving you the chance to catch your breath.

“No! Daddy, you call me daddy,” he demanded, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. You desperately clawed at his grip with weak fingers, your vision already beginning to blur around the edges. You were conflicted between trying to gasp for air or continue scratching away at Hank’s skin. There was no point to either - if he kept going, perhaps it would grant you a warped sense of the freedom you had been begging for.

Unfortunate for you, Hank had no intention of sending you Cole’s way.

Selfish as always.

Hank’s hips began to thrust erratically, chasing his release furiously while your hands fell limply to your sides. The headboard slamming into the wall behind it as Hank pushed into you harder each time - he was so close.

Now he had truly taken everything from you, he now had your autonomy while he used you as a vessel for his pleasure. You felt a disgustingly familiar heat between your legs as Hank slowed to a halt within you. And the last thing you heard as you slipped out of consciousness,

“We can still be a family”

-Mod Vic

#writing #yandere x reader #detroit become yandere #yandere dbh #mod vic #yandere hank #hank x reader #no one asked for this #and i delivered :)

272 notes · View notes

ibijau · 5 years ago

Note

Revali says something mean as usual, because that's what he does, except this time he actually makes link cry, oh no, it's easy to be dickish and callous when the boy is blank-faced and dumb-looking, but now that he's clutching his sword like a teddy bear and crying ? Halp he has Bad Feelings now. Could it be guilt. Oh no.

If you send me an angsty prompt, get ready for an angsty fill is all I gotta say.

“I wonder who must be most disappointed, the Goddess or your father?”

Link’s hand stilled on the princess’s arm, and Revali smirked. Finally he was getting a reaction.

Of course, he was tragically sad that the princess had gotten a few scratches during a yiga ambush. The poor girl, now sitting in his house and being tended to, had enough problems already. But her knight… That damn boy, always so perfect, with his great sword and his amazing destiny he was fulfilling without a hitch… No, Revali wasn’t going to feel sorry for him.

“Isn’t it your entire fate to protect the princess?” He insisted. “And yet you couldn’t defend her from some measly renegades.”

“Revali, stop that,” Zelda asked. “It is nobody’s fault.”

“But that isn’t true. If he had done his job properly, you would not have suffered. One must wonder what he was doing then, when he let so much slip past him?”

To Revali’s satisfaction, Link glared at him.

“Tell, great chosen one, are you always this good at protecting those around you? I must wonder if they ever bothered to check your proficiency before they tasked you with protecting the princess. Judging by how well you did today, I can only wonder how many people you’ve left to die before, when they should have been under your care?”

Revali heard the princess’s gasp. But what really got his attention was the sudden shine in the hero’s eyes.

“He didn’t mean that,” Zelda quickly said. “Revali you cannot…”

“He’s right,” Link cut her.

The knight finished tying the bandage on the princess arm and, without another word nor a glance to Revali, he left the house. It should have felt like a victory to have made him lose it composure. It didn’t.

“You will apologise to him this instant!” Zelda ordered, rising from her seat. “That was needlessly cruel!”

“I will not…”

“You will, or Vah Medoh will be given another pilot!”

She couldn’t do that. Vah Medoh had chosen him.

Could she do that?

Not that Revali cared if he lost the Divine Beast, because he did not need it. And he certainly did not care either if he had hurt the feelings of that imbecile of a knight. And yet that shine in his eyes…

“I might consider it,” he reluctantly muttered. “For your sake. Not his.”

“Then consider it now. I will not easily forget an attack against… against a friend who took risks to protect me.”

Zelda glared at him and if she hadn’t awakened her powers yet, she had certainly learned to be as frightful as her father. Not that Revali was frightened of course. If he left his house in search of Link, it was only because the poor princess’s nerves had suffered enough for one day.

He found Link on one of the landing platforms, training with that ridiculous sword of his. It was never wholly unpleasant to watch that, although Revali never would admit it out loud. The knight did have a certain proficiency with the legendary blade, and there was an undeniable grace to him. Or at least there usually was; that day, for the first time in their unwanted acquaintance, Revali saw the hylian trip and fall.

Followed by Link letting out a loud “Fuck!”.

That should absolutely have been funny. The great hero of Hyrule leaving his silent glory because he had fallen on his knees like a clumsy chick. Yet Revali couldn’t laugh. Because instead of getting up again and resuming his training, the hylian knight remained on his knees as an odd shaking started spreading through his body. Almost as if he were…

“I have been sent to make my excuses,” Revali announced, the only thing he could think of doing so his heart would stop constricting that way. “Apparently my words were cruel.”

Link jumped to his feet, sword in hand and pointed at the rito.

There was no hiding the tears in his eyes.

And Revali hated that. This was supposed to be a healthy, manly rivalry. All he was asking for was Link’s attention, a little banter, the occasional duel. It was always frustrating that the hylian never reacted, but Revali had never wanted tears. He was an asshole, proudly so, but not a monster.

“You were right,” Link shrugged, resuming his exercises.

“About you being a shitty knight? Well, much as I hate to admit it, one close encounter doesn’t fully undermine your… qualities. Not in time such as these. Your skill clearly could still be perfected, but…”

“You were right about me letting someone die under my guard,” Link elaborated, slicing the air violently. “And this time, it could have been the princess.”

Revali stared, unsure how to react. That was the first he heard of that. He knew the chosen hero wasn’t very old, had teased him on it more than once. He knew also that he had been serving Zelda for a few years already, and she was still very much alive. How old had that boy been when he’d seen someone die?

“Who was it? A former employer?”

Link, of course, did not reply. Continued his training. Well, Revali had tried to apologise, which was more than most people could ask for. He could have gone back to Zelda, told her about it, and forgotten the whole incident.

He could have.

He did not.

“You realise of course that whoever died, the responsibility is born by whatever or whoever killed them, not by you. It was not you who threw them in the way of danger, and to blame yourself is…”

Link put down his sword and stared blankly at Revali.

“It was me. We were not supposed to leave the village, but I wanted to surprise my mother with mushrooms and I was supposed to look after my sister. I thought for a few minutes, it’d be fine. I was wrong.”

“How old were you?”

“Does it matter?” Link asked as he lifted the sword once more, arms trembling with the effort. “She’s dead. It’s my fault. You were right to say I ought to be more careful. Enjoy knowing you were right all along about me being a pitiful excuse for a knight and leave me alone.”

Again, Revali should have left. Link would not say anything more to him. It was surprising he’d even said that much when they got along so little… But perhaps the guilt was such he’d have spoken to anyone who asked him. There couldn’t be many people who tried to really prob into the mysterious life of the great chosen hero.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Revali said. “It is never easy to lose someone.”

Link paused again for a second, staring as though he was looking for the insult that had to be hidden in those words. There was none though. Revali just knew about loss.

“It was long ago,” the hylian said. “I don’t really think about it very often.”

That was a lie, and an unconvincing one at that. Perhaps that was why the hylian usually spoke so little; he didn’t seem to be a very good liar. But certainly he would have wanted to not think about it, and that was something Revali could sympathise with. There was a lot he too would have gladly forgotten too.

Link, again, returned his focus to training and this time the rito left him to it. There was little else he could have said. But as he turned to walk away, Revali wondered if perhaps there was more he could do. He still very much hated the hylian, obviously, but it might not be a bad idea to keep some of that dislike to himself. The knight, just like the princess he protected, already had enough on his mind.

#revalink #mystery person #jau answers #revali #Link #fanfic #it's shitty to post from the app so I probs won't post the others today even if I finish them

35 notes · View notes

etheralisi · 6 years ago

Text

What’s lost will be found

So, I finally decided to actually post (and finish) one of my works for this fandom. It’s part of the Papadopoulos Fam AU (derived from http://flightfoot.tumblr.com/post/183365981727/so-is-lester-a-being-that-zeus-created-like-did ) and all OCS in this fic belong to @ArtJunkyard. It’ll make sense if you read their fic first ( https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13196036/4/Trials-Of-Apollo-Oneshot-Series ) because every single character here isn’t even cannon. Every. Single. One.

Much to her displeasure, she often misplaced things. A trait she'd shared with her grandmother apparently (her mother often told her stories of that woman always losing her glasses, which nine times out of ten were still on her head.) But she had always been told that no matter what she lost — how insignificant, how small — it would always find its way home.

She just hoped someone would tell her son that.

She'd lost it.

The memory dated way back to when she was merely a child. It was hazy and fractured, like all old memories were, but she could never forget the compassion that burned deep within her mother’s eyes. Or the way she smiled at her, gentle and understanding.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” Her mother had asked, kneeling down so as to look her in the eye. A gentle hand found its way to one of her unruly curls, tucking the loose strand behind her ear. It sent a pang of warmth through her heart, though it wasn’t enough to ease her troubles.

A single tear managed to trek down her cheekbone.

“Teddy,” She mumbled under her breath, almost incomprehensible. “Teddy’s gone.” She was so sure he’d been with her a few moments prior, clutched in her arms so tightly that, had he been a living breathing creature, he would have been sure to suffocate. Yet, all she grasped now was empty air.

Her mother nodded sagely, though the encouraging smile never slipped from her face.

“Not to worry! We’ll retrace our steps, okay?” She stood up, wincing slightly as her knee let out a worrying ‘pop’. Even so, her mother’s attention promptly turned back to her and she laced her calloused hand with her own, still oh so small from youth.

“Thanks Mama,” She said, her voice still small but filled with the faintest trace of hope as the pair of them began to make their way back to where they’d just come from. With her free hand, she began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt. It was a little too fancy for her taste — too many ribbons. But her mother seemed to think she looked adorable in the colour pink.

“Don’t look so worried Susan. Look,” Mother stopped in her tracks, almost sending her toppling on the floor. Her mother laughed, joyful like bells rather than bitter or mean as she reached into her coat pocket (also — if she remembered correctly — pink.) Out of it she retrieved a small, silver object attached to a length of chain. Encrusted in the centre a green jewel glinted, its colour coming close to mirroring her mother’s own eyes.

“It’s a necklace,” She gazed at the object fondly, no doubt recollecting a precious memory of the past. “My mother gave it to me many, many years ago,” She laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges. But, even in that moment, with a face riddled with wrinkles and laugh lines, Susan could have sworn she looked as young as ever.

Her mother hesitantly removed her entwined hand from her own before unclasping the chain. She took either end of it with both of her hands and draped it around her neck. Susan gasped as the metal brushed against the back of her exposed neck, maybe even shivered a little, but she remained speechless even as her mother backed a step away from her. In that moment she almost reminded her of an artist, stepping back to admire their work.

“You look just like her, you know? Ah, um. Nevermind sweetie. I just think she would appreciate you having this. My mother, uhm — your grandmother, she was quite the forgetful soul. Especially in old age. But she would always tell me that whatever she lost, no matter what she lost, it would always turn up one way or another. Often when you least expect it. Just like this necklace.” Her fingers traced over the silver plated necklace, now resting on Susan’s neckline. “I was always losing it… but it came back.”

“Just like your teddy will.”

She’d lost it.

It had to have been around here somewhere, Susan knew. It just had to be.

She knew she must have been a mess. A frantic girl on her hands and knees in a nearly deserted school digging through the contents of a rubbish bin. Must have stank, too, though she had long since grown used to the stench. Either that or the smell was so strong that her nose has given up its ability to smell.

Maybe it was a combination of both.

At long last, her fingers clasped around something smooth, cool, metal and decidedly not yet another mouldy banana peel that had been festering in there for months on end (she really wished people would come and clean their school bins more often.) She yanked it out and, despite it being filthy, she recognised the necklace her mother had given to her when she was just an infant. Susan let out a sigh of relief she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

The trinket, even in its battered and worn state, held a firm place in her heart. If those boys had actually managed to…

No.

She wouldn’t dwell on it. All that mattered now was the necklace was still in her hands and she would not by any means let it out of her sight ever again. Ever.

As Susan fastened it around her neck, being mindful to keep her hair out of the way, she heard an inhuman shriek that, had she had her hands free, would have caused her to have thrown her hands over her ears. As it was, she didn’t, and for many years after the incident feared that this very moment ruined her hearing.

She peered around the corner. Her angle was awkward and the way the building jutted out obscured her view. But what she could make out left her heart hammering in her chest. A blur of bronze. A pair of malicious, red eyes that flared with a hatred so intense that nothing human could ever bear it (she’d be having nightmares of those eyes a lot in her foreseeable future.) Though these eyes, the pure image of rage, were reduced to nothing but crumbling ashes by that blur of bronze, that was no doubt now a sword (a sword? In this day and age??), which sliced through the creature if it were nothing more than a slab of warm butter.

Susan never found out who the wielder of that weapon was. She’d already passed out.

She’d lost it.

Now, please remember that she was a level headed person. Was never one to lose her temper. No, she’d call herself a rather calm person.

But these- these girls… they just tipped her over the edge of that metaphorical cliff and straight to the burning pits of hell. Made her lose that temper of hers she, under any normal circumstance, would have had under control.

“Excuse me?” She did not shout. Didn’t even raise her own voice above speaking level. Yet the way she carried her voice through the air, venomous enough that even the room itself seemed to cower at her tone, worked better at carrying the message across than anything the loudest person in the room could have said (which would have been Jonathan. Man, that boy could shout.) “What do you think you're doing?”

Internally though, despite the raging white hot heat that burned from her very core, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit smug when she caught sight of how Angela flinched, even if she regained her composure straight afterward.

“What is it Susan?” The dark-haired girl sneered at her, through her eyes never left the sight of the boy before her. He was tall for his age, easily towered Susan, and she was short by no means. She recognised him now, she realised. They only shared one class together but it was hard not to forget that grinning boy that sat in front of her for chemistry.

Except now that smile was gone, wiped clean off his face and instead replaced by one that simply didn’t belong. Somehow, Susan’s blood managed to boil even more than it had been previously. Angela had no right —

“This doesn’t concern you.” For the first time, Angela twisted to look around at her, eyeing her distastefully as if she were a piece of rotting meat that she had allowed to fester. Or a mouldy banana.

Laughter bubbled in her chest, though it tasted bitter and acidic to the tongue. “Doesn’t concern me, huh? You’re one to talk, nosing around in this boy’s personal life, using his father’s uhm… record as material to torment him.” Her eyes flicked back up to the boy who was now staring at her with tears in his eyes. Damn, Angela had gone and made him cry. She opened her mouth yet again to continue admonishing the girl when Angela beat her to it, now glaring at her with complete and utter hatred.

Like the eyes.

She swallowed back a gulp as Angela spoke in that rather frustrating voice of hers, “You think you can lecture me on being nosy? Look at you! You were listening in on our conversation—”

“Sounded more like you were harassing him.”

Angela dutifully ignored her. “—just mind your own business, okay Susan? Not everything is all about you, you know?”

“I never said it was.” She folded her arms, pointed look never wavering from its place on her face. “I just asked you to leave him alone. I don’t appreciate people treating my friends like that.”

Was it her or was that boy tearing up even more than before?

“Sureee,” Angela drawled, “your friend.” She turned back to the boy who flinched under her narrowed gaze. “Remember to have it tomorrow, Thomas. I’d hate for rumours to spread around the school about what your dad does. Especially, if they are true.”

With that, Angela spun on her heel and walked away from the pair of them with her entourage (ugh, how cliché) who repetitively sent amused glances their way. As if this were all just some game, some form of entertainment to keep them preoccupied for the time being. The idea alone made her skin crawl.

“That was pretty cool of you,” Susan turned, a little stunned to hear the boy’s (Thomas’, his name was Thomas) voice for the first time that day. While not at full force, his easygoing smile was back and he was looking at her with — was that admiration? “I would never have been able to stand up to Angela like that! Thanks!”

Her cheeks may have flushed at the praise. “It was no problem — really.” She added the last part on hastily as he opened his mouth to protest. “I hate those girls. Always being so ugh!” She clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles started transitioning to sheet-white. “And they’re still planning on spreading rumours about you.”

Thomas’ face crumpled, and as much as that made her heart pang, she couldn’t help but notice that like this he held an uncanny resemblance to that of a sad pug.

“Don’t worry, though. They won’t get away with it.”

Thomas blinked in a look of adorable confusion. “How do you know that?”

“Because.” She tried out that encouraging smile her mother always used to give her out for size. “I won’t let them.”

She’d lost it.

“You’ve lost what?” Thomas asked, tucking into a peanut butter, cheese, ham and Oreo sandwich he’d made for himself at the kitchen counter. Personally, she didn’t know how he stood the flavour of the thing. Susan had once taken a (reluctant) bite of it and promptly dashed straight for the bin. She could no longer see Oreos the same way again.

“My Mother’s recipes!” She threw her head into her hands, narrowly avoiding face planting in her very own (non-Oreo filled thankyouverymuch) sandwich. “I’ve looked everywhere at home and I—” She choked out a sob. “I can’t find them!”

“Oh,” Thomas deflated a little and put down his sandwich in favour of twiddling with his hands. “Umm… are you sure you’ve looked everywhere?”

Susan picked herself off of Thomas’ family kitchen table as she rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan.

“Yes,” She sniffled. “I’m sure.”

“Urm… why don’t you just, you know, stop looking for it?”

Susan stared at him. Really stared. “Thomas,” She said slowly, a hysteric edge accompanying her tone. “This is my Mother’s cookbook we are talking about. I’m not going to just say ‘oh well, that’s that I guess’ and stop hunting for it.”

“No! No!” He bounced up from his seat, hand instinctively reaching out to her own. “That’s not what I meant at all, Suse. I was talking about what you told me she used to say to you when you were younger. About lost things.”

“That they’ll always turn up? Yes, well I—”

“The other thing. How stuff will come back to you when you least expect it. So just stop looking for it.” He returned back to his sandwich. “You’re bound to find it eventually.”

Susan took her hand from her necklace, only just realising that she had been stroking the jewel as she usually did when she was anxious.

“She did say that, didn’t she?” Her lip twitched upwards. “Thanks Thomas… but that still doesn’t solve the problem of what I’m going to give my uncle Lester for his birthday next week. I wanted to bake him something from the book, but…”

“Why don’t you write your own book, then?”

Susan found herself frowning at him, not for the first time that day. “My… own… book?”

“Yeah!” He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Your baking is the best. You’ve been doing it for so long… you’re a natural. Making your own recipe book will be a breeze.”

“No offence, but you would eat just about anything,” She retorted, eyeing his lunch. “And I don’t know so much about it being a ‘breeze’. Writing down the correct amounts and temperatures is quite challenging.”

“But if anyone can do it, it’s you Suse. Go for it.”

Her heart caught itself in her throat. What did she do to deserve a guy like this? “Thanks Thomas. I- It’ll try.”

She’d lost it.

Okay, admittedly, it wasn’t her this time doing the losing. And it wasn’t really lost per say. According to her daughter, she knew exactly where the book was. At school. In her drawer. And it was stuck there for the entire weekend, much to her displeasure.

“But I want you to read to me about princess Raven Way.” The six-year-old pouted, once again using her ‘puppy dog eyes’ technique. It was effective.

“Oh Katie,” She soothed, ruffling her fingers through Katie’s hair. “You know I love reading to you at night. But the book is at school. We can’t break in just to get it back.”

It amazed her to no end that her daughter managed to pout even more. “Mummyyy pleaseee. We read the others.”

“Haven’t we already read that book too, though?” She chuckled as Katie grumbled under her breath. “Don’t worry little princess. I’ll see what I can find, okay? Brush your teeth and settle into bed. I’ll be back up soon.”

She placed a sloppy kiss on Katie’s cheek, causing the little girl to dissolve into a fit of giggles and cry out ‘eww!’ as she prodded at the scene of the kiss. Susan only smiled at her second youngest before she headed downstairs to see if she could locate something of her daughter’s interest.

It proved… difficult.

She found crosswords, multiple ‘touch and feel’ books that had once belonged to her eldest son, Lester (named after her favourite uncle) and she’d kept for the multiple children she had had since (and in Cameron’s case, adopted. He wouldn’t let you forget that and always used it as an excuse to get out of his chores as if that even made sense.) She had even come across her Mother’s old cookbook in which she had lost a very long time ago. Fortunately, it had turned up a month after her uncle’s birthday. She had promptly stuck in her own additions to the book (including the chocolate brownies she had made for Lester — uncle Lester that was) and placed it by her bed where she promised never to lose it again. Of course, she lived in another house now. But it still remained at her bedside.

Eventually, after furiously routing around the household, she came across a book from Cameron’s collection (it was rather small. With his dyslexia, he tried to avoid reading on the most part.)

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” She held it up from his shelf.

Cameron furrowed his brow as he looked up from his homework. But the boy, bless his soul, didn’t even question it. “Uhh sure Mum? Go nuts.”

With that, she returned back to Katie who was, as promised, sitting in her bed. Well, if you could call it that. It was more like a mound of pink furry blankets, cushions and sparkly stuffed animals. And as if it wasn’t pink enough? She was surrounded on all sides by fairy lights that her dad, Thomas, had caved into buying for her. With this love of pink and frills, Susan couldn’t help but think that Katie reminded her of her own Mother. They’d have gotten on well.

“I’m back.” She smiled as she sat at the end of Katie’s bed. She fidgeted a little as she began to sink into the bed as if it was one of her own soufflets. At last, when she finally found herself in a position that didn’t have her in any danger of being swallowed whole by a bed, she turned back towards the six-year-old. As per usual, her girl was wearing a pair of glittery pyjamas. It was the rainbow pair and even had a print of wings emblazoned on the back (she was going through that fairy faze.) Katie’s favourite pair.

“Ooooh! What’s that, Mummy?” She pointed at the book clutched in her hands.

“This, little princess, is a book on Greek mythology.”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Mithigy?”

Susan patted her on the head. “Mythology. It’s… educational.” The only thing she could find in the house. “And makes great bedtime stories!” She’d just have to cut out all of the gore.

Katie didn’t look all that convinced. Even so, she didn’t protest and listened as Susan spoke.

After an hour of telling myths, she glanced over to see that her daughter had fallen into the realms of sleep and was now snoring — a trait she’d attained from her father of course. Man, her husband could snore.

Susan leaned in to kiss the tip of Katie’s nose, though was careful not to waken the little girl. As she pulled away, she froze, the distant echoes of two very, very familiar laughs echoing throughout the landing. Susan had to hold back the urge to groan.

Tyler.

Tyrone.

The youngest members of the family. Twins and definitely their father’s children. Why she had thought it okay to leave the three of them in the same room again? That was just asking for trouble.

Susan clambered up from the bed and switched off the fairy lights. Guess she'd have to deal with the aftermath of whatever had just been unleashed.

Two weeks later after she found out the three t’s of the family (Thomas, Tyler and Tyrone) had taken all of the mugs from the kitchen and scattered them around the front of the house, Susan was approached by Katie.

“Mummy?” She asked, tugging on the hem of her skirt. “Can you make me a costume?”

Susan didn't know if she'd heard her daughter right. Did she just say she needed yet another costume?

“A costume? Sweetie, what for?”

“Just wanna.” She blinked slowly at her, making sure she fluttered her eyelashes. Oh, Susan could already see the anime glitter. “Pretty please!”

As always, Susan proved to be swayed by Katie’s eye fluttering. “Okay then. Another princess I'm guessing?”

“Nah,” She shook her head which made her pigtails jiggle up and down, further emphasising the cuteness that Katie loved to flaunt. “Artemis.”

“Artemis? But… why?”

“She's cool. So can I?”

Susan thought for a moment. “I suppose. I've never been one to sew, though, so I might need to get in touch with one of my friends… but why Artemis?”

“The mimtholigy story was good. And thanks Mummy!”

As she watched her daughter skip away, Susan felt her heart warm. Maybe losing that book (but not really. She got it back after that weekend) wasn't so bad after all. Maybe…

She glanced down at her necklace strung around her neck.

Maybe it was time it found a new owner.

She’d lost him.

Susan hugged her knees, still in her bedroom with the door locked as she had done as a young girl. She - she couldn’t face her family.

Not after this.

Not after she lost him.

Her poor, poor son.

So young. Too young.

“Mum?” The voice was small, fragile, shattered.

Broken.

She wanted to kick herself. Of course she wasn’t suffering with this problem on her own. They had just lost a member of the family, and here she was. Hauled up in her room doing absolutely nothing to help ease the pain everyone else felt. Help stitch up the holes in their hearts.

She had abandoned them when she was needed the most.

Susan leaned over to the door and unlatched the lock, allowing her second oldest son (but he was the oldest now, wasn't he?) to enter the room.

His eyes were rimmed red, no doubt from crying too. They'd been close, Cameron and Lester. Two peas in a pod. Very rarely would you see the duo apart.

“He’s coming back, right Mum? It’s like you always said. All lost things come back. Tell me it’s true — please.”

All lost things come back.

She wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. Maybe do a bit of both. Because deep down that traitorous part of her knew, truly knew that her son was gone.

Her baby boy. The one always there to help the family and give comfort wherever he could. The first person who helped her realise that, no, she wasn’t crazy when she thought she saw monsters and strange, unexplainable things — because he saw them too.

But this time? What she lost would not be coming back.

Thanks for reading (seriously, thank you for spending time reading my stuff!) :))

^ Also, that’s Susan.

#Toa #Papadopoulos Fam AU #Susan Papadopoulos

8 notes · View notes

marichat-sins · 8 years ago

Text

Bar-Off

Genre: Romance

Rating: T, edging onto M

Pairings: Nalu, tiny bit of Gruvia

Summary: When Gray challenges Natsu to a ‘Bar-Off’ all sorts of shenanigans ensue, especially once a drunk and flirty Lucy enters the equation.

Found on FF.net

Word Count: 2,246

Erza’s beating on Natsu was definitely unjust, in his opinion. In fact, he was the victim here! Lucy totally was the one who attacked him, so why was he the one receiving punishment? Natsu softly glared at Lucy who was sitting at the bar, turned away from him and sipping a strawberry milkshake, a dark pink blush creeping up the back of her neck.

“How dare you defile Lucy!”

“Defile her? She came onto me!” Okay, so he might have also been partly at fault, for somewhat going along with it; but he was still the innocent one! No matter what Lucy says.

It all began when Gray challenged Natsu to a ‘Bar-Off’. Natsu wasn’t even sure what led up to that, but there the two were, shirtless because Gray had torn Natsu’s vest and then lost his own shirt. They stood behind the bar where Mirajane usually stood. Lucy, Erza, and Mirajane herself were perched on stools in front of them as Juvia, Laxus, and Gajeel sat off to the side near the three girls.

His best friend had become one of the judges for the competition, even though the pinkette knew how much of a lightweight Lucy was when it came to alcohol. He shivered at the horrid memory of the previous Christmas party. Not only was she a clumsy drunk, but a flirty one as well. And Erza, who the hell had let her be a judge of a competition that had even a drop of alcohol in it? The woman is an absolute demon when she’s drunk!

“You ready boys?” Mirajane asked in her typically sweet voice, her legs crossed as she smiled innocently at Gray and him.

“Gihi, I don’t think either of ‘em are gonna make it through the night.” Gajeel chuckled darkly, earning a sharp glare from each of them which only made him laugh louder.

“Juvia knows her Gray-sama is going to win!” The blue haired water mage cheered for her loved one next to the burly Gajeel who continued to laugh at the duo behind the bar.

“Don’t have your hopes up too high, Rain Woman. Bunny Girl and that other crazy woman are gonna get drunk by the third round, gihihi.”

“Anyways, here are the rules I have come up with.” Mirajane continued, ignoring Gajeel. “First to win five rounds out of nine is the winner. Each round will be a different drink that the judges, Erza, Lucy, and I, will decide on.”

“Is that simple enough for you to understand?” Erza asked, looking up from her half-eaten strawberry cake, narrowing her dark coffee brown eyes on them. When they nodded, she returned to finish the sweet delicacy. “Good. The first round will be a Strawberry Daiquiri.”

Natsu stifled a laugh as he saw Lucy’s chocolate eyes widen in surprise and delight as her favorite alcoholic beverage was announced on the first go.

Thank god Lucy forced me to learn how to make that… Those were horrible nights…

The reasoning behind these long lessons was that when she had her rare relaxation days, she didn’t really want to make it herself. Hence, making her rose-haired best friend make it for her. That, and foot massages, no matter how badly the rough man did them.

“A Strawberry Daiquiri? What kind of girly shit is that?” Gray snickered, but quickly shut up when he noticed all three judges, especially Lucy’s glare that was directed towards him. “I can make it though. Yep. No problem there.”

“Great then. Make our Daiquiris boys.”

45 minutes and 15 downed drinks later for Lucy, Natsu found himself holding the wobbling blond as she drowsily wrapped her thin arms around his waist, giggling something about him and cats. What the hell was a Nappy Dragneel? It sounded horrible in Natsu’s opinion but Lucy found it to be the most hilarious thing in the world.

“You!” Erza shouted as she staggered over to Gajeel and Gray, pointing angrily at the latter. “You are a terrible drink maker person! Now go get me more booze.” Gajeel went stock still as the fiery redhead whirled onto him. “And you! What is with that long hair? Cut it! In fact, I’ll do that for you!”

The dark haired man visibly paled as the woman called on one of her many swords. “Damn. I knew I shoulda spent my night with Shrimp.” He grumbled before narrowly dodging the swing of her sword. “Calm down woman!”

“My, my, look at what’s happened.” Mirajane commented to Laxus who was just sitting there surveying the chaos. “Hey Natsu, you should take Lucy home. I don’t want her to walk by herself like this, especially not at this time of night either.”

“What do ya think I was plannin’ on doin’? I wouldn’t leave her on her own like this- she’s a danger to all of Magnolia!” Natsu shouted out in a choked response as Lucy’s arms snaked up around his neck, her grip vise-like. His eyes widened as one of her legs came up to hook itself around his hip before the other followed in suit. He barely had time to place his hands under her thighs so she wouldn’t fall flat on her bum, a choked noise coming out of his strangled throat.

“Lucy-”

“Carry me, Natsu!” The drunk laughed into his ear. Suddenly, he stumbled forward, his grip on Lucy tightening as his breathing went rugged.

“Lucy,” Natsu said in a semi-threatening tone. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Her wet tongue darted out to lick the outer shell of his ear once more, causing shivers to go down his spine.

“That, Lucy! That! Stop doing that!” Natsu spat out as he began to walk out of the guildhall, leaving Gajeel to be chased by Erza, Gray trying to fill a bottle of whiskey with water, and Mirajane giggling at Natsu and Lucy. Now that he thinks back on it, he was glad he got a drunk Lucy instead of a drunk Erza. He was surprised the next day to see that Gajeel had survived and that his hair had managed to somehow be salvaged and Gray was alive as well.

Once they finally escaped the clutches of the guild, the cold air began to nip at their skin, the only warmth being the areas where Lucy and Natsu were touching. “Hey, Natsu…” Lucy purred as her legs tightened around his waist. “Your back is so warm…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me that before.” He muttered in response as he hiked her up higher, walking next to the river near her apartment. The cobblestone road was dimly lit by spaced out light lacrimas hidden inside the lanterns.

“Y’know,” Lucy slurred as she slid farther down her partner’s spine, fully intending to let herself dip back to experience the world upside down. And she would have too, if it had not been for Natsu hiking her back up. “I really like it when you sleep in my bed. It soooo warm. And the cuddles…” Her body went slack against him, the only thing keeping her up now was his strong hands. “Like my own warm teddy bear!”

Lucy giggled loudly at the thought whereas Natsu felt his blood creep up the back of his neck, tinting it a dark red. “You hear that?” Lucy shouted out, swinging an arm back as she pointed at a random window on someone’s apartment. “He’s mine! So back off girls!” Lucy laughed again and Natsu sighed in relief as he saw her apartment coming up.

Walking to the door, Natsu was jerked back as Lucy tightened her chokehold on him, throwing her weight back as she pointed at the window that led to her bedroom. “No! Window! Window!”

Growling in frustration, Natsu backed away from the door opting to stand under the windowsill.

It all went downhill from there.

It was after he had leapt the two of them up into Lucy’s room, the duo collapsing onto her soft pink bed. She had only been drunk for an hour tops, and yet he was already this exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, but as it turned out, Lucy had different plans.

Instead of just laying on the bed, she dragged him off along with her before she skipped, actually skipped over to her drawers where he knew from experience from previous pantyraids that held her undergarments.

“Luce? What are you doing? Why don’t you just go to slee-” He was caught off guard when some black tights were flung in his face.

“Tie that over your eyes.” Lucy ordered, her body slightly tilting to the side as she took wobbly steps towards him, a weird smirk planted on her face before she fell in a heap on the floor.

“Lucy!”

“I’m okay!” She cheered as she popped back up, a huge grin on her face. “Now do what I said!” Natsu obeyed, figuring that it was probably better if he just listened to her. He just hoped that whatever was going to happen next would be less painful than a Lucy Kick.

One time when she was drunk, she had blindfolded herself and used him as a pinata, so there was a good chance that this might be just as abusive, if not more. His theory was proven right in a way, as a minute later, he was shoved onto her bed and forced to lay down.

“Luce, whaddya doin?” The only thing he got in response was a shift in the bed as new weight was added. Pressure built on his stomach and it only took him a split second to understand that Lucy was in fact, sitting on his abdomen, her legs on either side of him.

“L-Luce,” he gulped as he felt her slowly crawl up him, creeping ever so slightly up to his chest. “I- What a-are you doin?” Again, he got no reply as she continued her torturous walk until she was seated at the top of his chest, her knees pressed next to his head with his arm tucked to his side.

“Luce, we can’t-”

“Shh…” A slim finger was pressed to his lips, successfully shutting him up. A sudden need to grab ahold of something to keep him grounded to reality caused him to reach up for Lucy’s sides, keeping her in place on his chest. Where he expected to feel thick fabric from the heavy sweater she had been previously wearing, his hands were greeted by her soft creamy skin that was hot to the touch.

“L-Luce, are you not wearing a shirt?” Her finger stayed in it’s place as his lips gently brushed against it with every word it formed.

“What do you think, silly?” She giggled, trailing her finger down to his chin before tracing it along his jaw delicately, barely even touching his boiling skin. The makeshift blindfold was killing him. Just when he didn’t think that it could get any worse, he felt something nibble at his ear causing him to groan. The feeling was foreign, but he welcomed it with open arms as Lucy continued to bite and suck at the lobe of his ear. He groaned in appreciation once more as she gingerly pecked the junction where his ear and jaw met, before she left a trail of open mouthed kisses along his jaw.

Her movements were slow and tantalizing as she made her way towards her destination. At this point, Natsu was a trembling mess beneath her as his fingers gripped desperately at her hips, clutching her closer to him. He knew he should make her stop, that she was drunk and this was somewhat taking advantage of her, but he couldn’t. He was selfish right now, and all he wanted was Lucy.

This might fuck up yer entire friendship with her, ya bastard. Ya might lose her forever.

His subconscious kicked in but was quickly ignored as the blonde vixen above him pressed her soft pink lips against his chapped ones in one quick motion. He raised his head up to meet her again as she pulled away, kissing her back with fiery passion.

The only thing that could make this moment better, would be taking off the blindfold so he could see her, but he can deal with this. He wanted to freeze time, and to just stay like this forever with just him and Lucy, nothing could ruin this.

“Lucyyyyy, Natsuuuu! Charle rejected me again!”

Except for that.

Happy burst into the room, tears streaming down his face. “She threw away my fish! And then… she told me…” The exceed’s voice died down as he saw the position his two best friends were in. Lucy was on top of Natsu in nothing but a bra and some shorts, her cheeks were tinted a light pink as she stared at Happy in confusion. Natsu was no better, as he was shirtless and blindfolded, his cheeks flushed a pink as well as he held Lucy by the waist.

Happy was frozen for a moment as neither of the two made any signs of moving. Then he shouted, “I’m so gonna go tell Mira and Erza!” before her flew out of the room in a hurry, not forgetting to add a ‘they liiiike each other’.

And that was what led them to this.

“Luce, tell her!”

“Nope. I was drunk. Don’t remember a thing.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s not what you said in bed this morning- Ouch! Erza stop hitting me!”

I hope you enjoyed this one shot @thefairytailguild230 I’m sorry for the long wait!

If anyone else has any requests, don’t hesitate to ask me!

65 notes · View notes