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youreallyshouldtalkmore · 2 years ago

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Dark Imagination_ Part 3

Genshin Impact MasterList

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You were walking outside, exploring the grounds at your leisure, as the moon slowly made it way into the sky. You smiled as you heard the familiar trickle of water, the magnificent water fountain, coming into view. Even though you had seen it a couple of times by now, it still took your breath away. You carried your little portable music player, its gentle music fitting perfectly with the surroundings.

You giggled, feeling childish suddenly, as you set it down and began twirling around in a kind of dance. You were not one to dance with an audience, as you felt too shy to do so. But with you and yourself, that was another matter. And with the music and surroundings, you had perfect fodder for your own private fantasy.

But after spinning gently, eyes half lidded, you quickly realized your hand had been captured, and you looked up to see Neuvillette standing before you. Your breath caught as you saw his silhouette haloed by the moonlight.

It took you a moment to find your voice, “Monsieur Neuvillette.”

He gave a bow, over your hand, looking as an old world lord, “Mademoiselle, may have the pleasure of this dance?”

You gaped at him.

His lavender eyes captured yours, “Please, it’s only a dance, no?”

You nodded, “S-sure.”

He squeezed your hand gently before straightening, then pulling you to him. You went to him, your gaze never leaving his lavender ones. His hand found his away around your waist, pulling you closer. It didn’t cross your mind to say that you never danced with a partner before. But your gaze on his, he led and you followed.

Neuvillette finally broke the silent night, “You are a magnificent dancer, mademoiselle.”

“This…this is my first time. This kind of dancing, I mean….”

He looked amused, “It looks like you had a basic idea of that concept from what I saw.”

You ducked your head, embarrassed to be caught. You had forgotten yourself in a moment of whimsy, “I was just flailing around to the music.”

“I would not call what I witness, flailing around. I’ve heard that one’s soul is guided by the music. You seemed like a nymph, enticing me so that I could not help to want to be part of this dance with you. A selfish request, I know, to intrude on your private time.”

You shook your head, eyes still downward, “It’s fine….”

“Do we frighten you, Miss. Y/N?”

You had to think about it for a moment, “I’m…not sure. I’m just, not sure…what you expect from me. I suppose that frightens me.”

“Then you are looking forward to going home, aren’t you?”

You looked up at him then. You wanted to say yes, but instead, “Shouldn’t I be?”

“It’s only natural.” Neuvillette spun you out gracefully and back toward him, “However, you know that we will try our best to make you want to stay here.”

How could you not realize by now? How they went out of their way. Everything designed to entice and give you more reasons to leave your old world behind.

Upon wandering their grounds once, you came across a pool. Granted, it was too chill to swim, but you did sit down and watch the water. You weren’t sure how long you had sat when you realized that Neuvillette had been sitting at the table with you.

“I, too, get captured by watching water. I quite love the ambiance a still pond of water creates. Do you like to swim, mademoiselle?”

You turned back, allowing the water ripple gentle sway to lull you, “I haven't swum in a long time. I suppose it's alright, but I like watching it much more. It’s soothing…”

A few moments of companionable silence, before you heard something clink and looked up to see Neuvillette stated pushing a goblet towards you.

You had picked it up and gazed into it. Blinking, your mouth quirked, “Is this water?”

He peered at you over his own goblet, “Does one need anything else than a good cold sip of water?”

You had smiled then, “Aside from tea, I can say that water is my favorite drink. Especially if it’s as pure as this one.”

“Naturally, water should be purified to perfection.”

You both smiled at each other before lapsing into silence as you both gazed at the water, allowing it to lull you.

You found yourself frequently sitting quietly with Monsieur Neuvillette, usually at the pool side if the weather permitted. If Zhongli preferred to drink tea with you, Neuvillette drink of choice was water.

It was so quiet here, you quickly discovered. Different from the hub-bub of your old world. But then again, you did live in the suburb. Not quite the inner city, but still noisy in its own way. Here it was nice to just be and no more was required.

Yes, you admitted in the deep recesses of your heart, they were doing a stellar job thus far to convince you. You weren’t sure they even realized what it was.

But still a thought niggled at you, what would happen if you refuse to stay?

They were vampires, after all. Supernatural creatures. Two of them, old as time and probably use to getting their way.

Neuvillette stopped. He realized you had gone deep inside your own thoughts.

“Miss. Y/N?”

You blinked, realizing that although the music kept playing running through its preconfigure songs, you had stopped dancing.

You looked up at Neuvillette who had yet to let go of your hands. His eyebrows relaxed only slightly when your gaze met his, “It seems your thoughts are far from here.”

“Ahh, sorry about that….” you murmured. You made no move to share them.

Neuvillette slowly turned your hand-over, palm up. You looked at him as he slowly brought it up to his mouth, placing an open kiss over your pulse, his gaze never leaving yours.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“We won’t hesitate to use whatever means to convince you. All is fair play here, as long as you aren’t physically harmed.” He spoke, and you shivered, feeling his hot breath over your delicate skin.

Why did the moonlight make him look far more ethereal than you would have liked? Why did you feel, if he sunk his teeth into your wrist at the moment, you might have thanked him?

“Patience. Now is not the time.” Neuvillette spoke as if reading your thoughts.

Or was it a reminder to himself?

Oh, so slowly, he released your wrist before taking a step back. Then he gave a low bow before turning and swiftly walking off without a backwards glance.

Once he was out of sight, your legs could no longer support you, and you sunk to the ground.

The month, should come quickly before…

…before, what?

Part 4

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #zhongli #zhongli x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #vampires #Youtube

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trayoftrinkets · 8 months ago

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I think it is about time I sell my soul to Brothers Without A Tomorrow because I really do not know how else to thank them for consistently putting out such amazing works— yes, I finally caught up with Dear Zero and am currently experiencing the worst existential crisis of the year so far.

Like I want to throw myself off a cliff so bad because how can something so perfect just exist? It should be kept in a temple and worshipped because oh. my. fucking. god.

The concept? Mindblowing.

The worldbuilding? Jawdropping.

The story so far? Impeccable.

The characters? My new obsession.

The art? Should be worshipped by all of humanity for all the years to come.

I'm happy that this precious piece of media is my introduction to guideverse, a genre that I've been meaning to explore for quite sometime now but did not know from where to begin. But now that I've gotten a taste of this hidden fruit, I think I will be digging through the darkest corners of the internet to find more. But before all that, let's go back to bwat because this is a bwat appreciation post and I need to yap about them.

To say that I'm obsessed with their writing and their art would be an understatement. I will forever be grateful to the stars that allowed me to be alive at the same time as this person and I'm not even being dramatic, I really do owe them my life.

I was first introduced to their works by my best friend, who had asked me to read Taming the Tiger. And when I tell you I felt my world shift.. l mean it in the way that I finally unlocked a door that would let me experience some of the strongest feelings I've ever felt while engaging with any form of media. Like, you know I absolutely love pretty art and amazing stories, right?

So when the two blended in such a seamless way that ticked every one of my boxes, how can you expect me to not vibrate at the frequency of light and erupt into flames? I MEAN LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT THEM.

Not to mention how some of the illustrations reminded me so much of ranwan. You know it's serious when my brain connects something to ranwan. I really was fighting for my life out here. And those side stories? Oh, I was sobbing into my pillow, alright.

A few months later, after I was finally able to take in all of Taming the Tiger, I decided it was time to read Miscreants and Mayhem. It was a spur of the moment kind of decision, but oh boy did it spur me to jump off the nearest cliff because Juicy. Fucking. Citrus.

Pleek do mind the tags on this one if you haven't read it yet and/or are planning on reading.

It was a total surprise. In all sense of the word. If you've known me long enough, you know I am always on the hunt for stories with subversive tropes, morally grey black characters and, well, downright the most problematic shit you could imagine. And this manhwa managed to tick some of those boxes. I did have an issue with some stuff but in the grand scheme of things, it was all fine.

I started Smyrna and Capri quite recently (well, almost three months ago but I've been busy so I'm still stuck in the 40s). I was not expecting to like it but to my surprise, it quickly became a favourite.

Absolutely love the chibis in this one, and the little spirits. Oh, they bring me so much joy. I also like the humour and the awkwardness. Got me giggling, kicking my feet in the air. And I kinda dig the whole concept here even if I'm not that into mpreg stuff (buzzer goes wee woo wee woo, lights turn red, a voice speaks into the mic: that is incorr—), so yeah, I hope I can pick it back up and get back to reading soon!

Another work of theirs I've been eyeing to read is Blood Link. It looks tempting, I'll be starting it once I'm done with Smyrna and Capri.

Now, all that being said, some of the main reasons why I love Brothers Without A Tomorrow is not just because of the writing and the art, not just because of the multilayered stories and complex characters, but also because of how they break the established norm in BL Manhwas. Dark skinned characters and masculine bottoms? I will be at the scene of crime!

(pc: pinterest)

#brothers without a tomorrow

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franciennehaillie · 10 months ago

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Blog Entry 1:

My First Blog in GEE - 16

Francienne Haillie Awiten

Accy 2

As I stepped into the classroom after missing my morning class, I was taken aback by how full and lively it was. The room buzzed with chatters, giggles, and laughter, creating a warm and vibrant atmosphere. Finding my friends, I was grateful to see they had saved a seat for me. Indeed, I had missed these university love languages. Finally, our professor arrived, and everyone fell silent, all eyes on her. She was very beautiful and presentable, kind of familiar since I think she was our proctor during our Cost Accounting exam in our first year. Just like a typical first day of classes, we introduced ourselves. I believe we were all noisy with all the laughs and chitchat, then came the introduction of the subject. This marked the beginning of our journey in GEE 16, a class dedicated to exploring the depths of entrepreneurship.

Entrepreneurial Minds is a course that dives into the essence of entrepreneurship. It’s not just about starting a business; it's about coming up with new ideas and making things happen. This course is what I believe helps young entrepreneurs like me to learn how to think creatively and adapt to changes— giving us the tools to create and seize new opportunities in today's fast-paced world. As we know, we are all familiar with entrepreneurship, considering my program, and it has also been taught during senior high school. Entrepreneurship, based on the ideals of Joseph Schumpeter, who was one of the most influential and renowned 20th-century economists, is the economic actor who breaks the static to push the economy toward development. This is not merely economic growth because development signifies that fundamental changes in the economy take place in the process. I firmly believe that entrepreneurship fosters a culture of innovation. Entrepreneurs are trained to think outside the box, develop new ideas, and implement creative solutions. This creativity is essential for driving progress and addressing modern challenges in unique ways.

Breaking the fine line between a businessman and an entrepreneur, a businessman is a person who operates a business with pre-existing, proven business concepts, and their primary goal is to maximize earnings in a well-established market. Conversely, an entrepreneur is a person who has a unique and creative idea—they create and develop new businesses, frequently forging their own route in the world of business. This was highlighted when my classmate gave a good example. "For instance, we have a ballpen. A businessman will sell the ballpen, while an entrepreneur will make something out of the ballpen, perhaps some innovation or development with the ballpen", said he.

We also learned about Silicon Valley, a region in Northern California that is a global center for high technology and innovation. It is home to dozens of major technology, software, and internet companies. Some of the major companies in the region include Apple, Alphabet's Google, Chevron, Meta (formerly Facebook), and Visa. It is one of the wealthiest regions in the world and one of the hottest real estate markets. We can never deny the economic influence it instills as the wealth generated by Silicon Valley companies has a ripple effect on the local and national economies. It leads to job creation and a thriving ecosystem of businesses and services. In this fast-paced digital and high-tech world that we live in, businesses have also kept up, and we cannot fully grasp the whole picture without studying it thoroughly.

Overall, my first day in GEE 16 made me realize that there is so much more to entrepreneurship. It extends to the very core of its definition. Entrepreneurship is not just about starting a business; it’s about innovation, creativity, and driving change. I am excited to delve deeper into this subject and explore the endless possibilities that come with being an entrepreneur.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

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Kilgharrah: “Kill that child, Merlin.”

Merlin (like a normal person): “No?? What the fuck???”

And with that, everything changed.

Part 2 Part 3(final part)

“You must let the boy die.”

Kilgharrah’s voice echoed incessantly through Merlin’s head for days after the Druid boy’s appearance, and subsequent disappearance.

Merlin had, of course, ignored the scaly old bastard, and hadn’t once questioned if he’d done the right thing by hiding Mordred away in his tiny bedroom.

If the boy truly had such a terrible destiny, then the best thing for Merlin to do was to keep him close, if not to steer him away from his fate, then to at least be able to see it coming if it was indeed inevitable.

Currently, Morgana was the only one aware that Mordred was still here (other than Gaius of course, who was somehow disapproving and proud at the same time). As far as everyone else was concerned, Arthur and Uther included, the boy was never found, and must have slipped out of the city somehow (going by the extra patrols in the woods, as opposed to the castle and town).

The Warlock was nervous about anyone knowing at first, but when Morgana had tearfully thanked him for saving Mordred, and proceeded to sneak in spare blankets, food, and money for clothes, Merlin was glad for the co-conspirator.

The boy was currently curled up in the corner of Merlin’s room, a pile of blankets and pillows organised like a bird’s nest around him, wearing a soft shirt and sleeping the night away.

Merlin watched him from his bed, realising with growing horror just how protective of Mordred he had already become. He was so young. How could Merlin even consider punishing a child for some stupid destiny he didn’t even know about?

He had to think of a solution quickly. He couldn’t risk sending him away, not even to the Druids, they were as much slaves to the so-called prophecies as Kilgharrah was, and Merlin had once been (”Gods. Sounds like I’ve been dealing with destiny for years. It’s been like six months. I’m too young for this shit.”). But equally... what could he do with him??

Thankfully, no one had really gotten a good look at the boy, so hopefully with a change of clothes and a haircut, he wouldn’t be recognised, at least not if Merlin came up with a convincing enough story.

To be honest... the cover story worried him far more than the prospect of someone recognising him. Uther hadn’t recognised Nimueh, the woman who had been his court sorceress for years... the man was apparently not very observant.

In the end, it was a throwaway comment by Morgana a few days later, about a week after the Druid boy had “escaped” that gave Merlin a very stupid idea. So stupid, that it might just work.

Morgana had once again snuck away from the main castle to sit with Merlin and Mordred in the servant’s room.

Gaius had said nothing as she’d entered the Physician’s chambers, enough food for four hidden away in the picnic basket she carried, just raised his eyebrow slightly, and thanked The Lady for the food offering that was definitely-not-a-bribe.

She gave him a quick wink, and the old physician rolled his eyes fondly as he set an overturned bucket in front of the door; if anyone came in, they would come in loudly.

Mordred was happy to see her, and Merlin hid a fond smile at the boy’s quiet giggles. He still didn’t speak much, so it was a relief to see him finding joy in something, even if it was clandestine visits from Uther’s ward.

She ruffled his hair slightly, resisting the urge to pull the touch averse boy into a tight hug, and set the basket on the bed. Merlin sat against the pillows, and Morgana sat down opposite him, the basket in between them as Mordred clambered up to sit just in front of Merlin.

Morgana and Merlin talked quietly as they ate, Mordred staying silent as the adults (or...as adult as they could get. Like Merlin kept thinking to himself, he was too young for this shit at sixteen, and Morgana was only two years older than him) avoided the elephant in the room.

The elephant being that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Arthur had a habit of bursting in whenever he so pleased, and it was a miracle he hadn’t done so already. Plus, it would be cruel to expect Mordred to stay cooped up in here for much longer. He was a child, he deserved to play outside and explore and do all the other things he couldn’t do in Merlin’s bedroom.

Once they finished eating, Mordred moved to his makeshift bed in the corner, tightly clutching a book that Morgana had bought him, and furrowing his brows in concentration as he read.

Morgana stared at him with a soft smile, and Merlin sighed, once again worrying about his new ward’s future.

Morgana tilts her head, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, and looks slowly between Merlin and Mordred as the servant raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You know Merlin, the two of you look remarkably similar.”

Mordred is engrossed in his book, and doesn’t react at all to Morgana’s quiet comment, but Merlin’s eyebrow goes even higher as he huffs out a laugh:

“You think? I don’t see it.”

Morgana looks at him with a deadpan expression:

“Merlin, you don’t have a mirror in here. I’m fairly certain you have no concept of what you look like.-”

Merlin looks indignantly offended for all of two seconds before he sighs and nods, she’s right to be fair. He’s tall-ish, with pale skin, and he thinks he has brown hair. That’s about all he knows.

Morgana chuckles as she once again looks at Mordred:

“You both have very dark hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. You know...-”

She looks back at him with a thoughtful frown on her face:

“-if someone told me you were brothers... I’d believe it.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow:

“Really?”

She nods decisively:

“Yeah. I mean, the more I think about it, the more I look between you, yes. You could definitely be related.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, thinking. He takes in a deep breath and tilts his head slightly:

“It could work. I haven’t really talked to anyone about my family so... we could say that... he came to live with me? Because life here is... good?”

Morgana snorts slightly, rolling her eyes before looking back at him seriously:

“You’d have to be more convincing than that. You could say that the harvest was poor in your village? That Mordred was better off coming to stay with his big brother in the big city?”

Merlin nods at her words, grimacing slightly as he mutters:

“If we’re running with the whole... brother thing, I need to write a letter to my mum, just in case. Gods she’s going to laugh so much.”

Morgana laughs at him quietly, but the noise finally catches Mordred’s attention and he looks up in confusion. Merlin moves the basket to the floor, and gestures to the boy to come over.

He walks over wordlessly, climbing up to kneel between them, biting his lip nervously.

“Is it time for me to leave, Emrys?” echoes through Merlin’s head, and he gives the boy a comforting smile, shaking his head slightly, before saying out loud:

“You’re staying with me, Mordred-”

The boy smiles slightly as he stares at Merlin in reverence, and Morgana quickly hides her questioning gaze. She could see that there was more between them than simple protectiveness over a child, and thankfulness for being saved, but she kept her thoughts to herself as Merlin continued:

“-but we can’t keep you hidden in here forever, so we’re going to tell people that you’re my younger brother, come to live with me. Is that alright?”

Mordred nods his head vigorously, and Merlin chuckles slightly as the boy’s grin grew:

“Ok. We’ll get you a haircut and tell Gaius the plan. Probably wait a few more days for things to settle down further, and then see how it goes, ok?”

Mordred nods once more, smile not leaving his face. Morgana bites her lip to stop herself from laughing at Merlin’s shocked face when the boy threw himself into the servant’s arms for a tight hug.

Merlin spends the next few days teaching Mordred all about Ealdor and his mother and Will, so that the boy could have at least a little knowledge on what was supposedly his home and family.

The next time Morgana came to visit, she brought a comb and a sharp pair of scissors, as well as a few more changes of clothes that looked less... Druid. By the time she left that evening, Mordred had much shorter hair, and a wide grin on his face at the prospect of finally being able to go outside (he was Druid after all, he needed trees and fresh air).

The letter had been sent home, and Merlin was expecting a reply any day now. The only thing left to worry about was how to hide Mordred’s Druid marking. It would be easy to cover with clothes, but Uther’s increasing paranoia meant that it would be best if they could find a more permanent solution.

Gaius suggested some sort of glamour spell fairly quickly, but Merlin was unwilling to cast one on the boy until he’d mastered it.

And THAT meant showing up to serve Arthur with ink all over his hands that he had tried and failed to cover.

Merlin had also realised with dawning horror, that he would have to tell Morgana the truth. She knew about the marking, and she was smart, there was no way that hiding it wasn’t something that had occurred to her. She would bring it up eventually, and how could Merlin explain without having to... explain??

Morgana was already risking her favour with the King, and frankly, her life, by protecting a Druid... she would do the same for Merlin, right? But Mordred hadn’t actually done any magic... BUT she’d always spoken against executions... BUT Merlin had lied and hidden it from her, his friend...

Hmm...

In the end, he’d decided he would just have to suck it up, and tell her. Fuck whatever that dragon said. After Kilgharrah’s last round of... advice, Merlin had been ignoring his calls. If there was an emergency, the cryptic bastard would tell him, and until then he could just sulk in that cave on his own.

That two weeks was also enough for Uther to become convinced that the mysterious Druid boy really was long gone, and to just forget about it. He was pissed of course, but talking about it and extending the search just highlighted that a child, barely eleven summers, had managed to evade all of his forces and that... did not cast him in a good light.

It took Merlin about two weeks to fully master the spell, which was longer than the three of them were hoping, but he was adamant that he perfect it before he cast it on Mordred, and Gaius was incredibly impressed at his ward’s determination.

Morgana was of course confused about why they kept pushing it back, she thought they were only going to wait a few days before they started introducing Mordred, but she trusted Merlin and saw no harm in waiting a little longer.

When Morgana arrived that evening, she could tell that Merlin was... anxious. They’d agreed on a specific day to make introductions but it wasn’t until the end of this week, it didn’t make any sense for Merlin to suddenly be nervous about it.

Mordred wasn’t quite as good at hiding his emotions, and didn’t even giggle like he normally did when Morgana came over, just stared at his “brother” anxiously.

Morgana rolled her eyes and huffed as she shut the door:

“Alright, Merlin. What is it? Spit it out.”

Merlin opened his mouth, about to come out with an excuse, before he snapped it shut again and took a deep breath.

It worried him, how easy, how automatic it was for him to lie, but that was a worry for another time.

Mordred reached up and took his hand, squeezing it, and Merlin looked down at him with a weak smile before sitting on the bed and gesturing that Morgana join him.

She looked at him worriedly, but settles where he gestures, and doesn’t acknowledge the way Mordred sits defensively between them.

The boy looks back at Merlin:

“Are you sure, Emrys?”

Merlin gives him another smile, and squeezes his shoulder slightly as he raises an eyebrow:

“I’m sure. And you need to get used to calling me Merlin at some point.”

Mordred pouts slightly, and Merlin ruffles his hair as he laughs, before looking back up at Morgana’s questioning stare.

He takes another deep breath, before slowly speaking:

“I... we’ve found a way to properly hide Mordred’s marking.”

Morgana looks taken aback, but relieved:

“Oh. Is that all? That’s good isn’t it? I have to admit, it was worrying me.”

Merlin gulps:

“Yeah it... it is good... it’s just, it involves... magic.”

Morgana raises her eyebrow, and nods slowly, as if it were obvious:

“I figured it would be. It’s not like it would be easy or reliable to cover it with make-up every morning, or hide it with clothes.-”

It’s Merlin’s turn to look taken aback now, and Mordred fixes her with an unreadable expression. Morgana continues:

“-The problem, lies in finding someone willing to do whatever spell it is. Someone we could trust wouldn’t share the secret, no matter what.”

Merlin grimaces slightly, more gulping, and taking yet another deep breath:

“We already have someone. Me.”

Morgana gasps slightly, and she’s vaguely aware of the brothers in front of her tensing up, but all she can focus on is the gold of Merlin’s irises.

The gold fades, and Merlin clears his throat, breaking her out of her stupor. She reaches over and punches Merlin harshly on the arm before getting up and beginning to pace, speechless.

Merlin and Mordred panic at first, but when she makes no moves towards the door in her pacing, they relax. That only lasts for a moment or two however, before she looks back to Merlin, furious:

“Are you thick Merlin? Why on earth would you learn magic in Camelot of all places?? Do you have a death wish!?”

Merlin laughs slightly, cheeks turning pink as he rubs the back of his neck:

“Actually uh... I was born with magic; I’ve always had it. My mother sent me here because she thought I would learn to control it better.”

Morgana looks incredulous as she continues to rant:

“What? With the fear of execution hanging over your head?! That’s not control, that’s terror.”

Merlin shrugs:

“It works though. My magic is mostly instinctual, the threat of torture by pyre sure as hell stops me from losing control when I’m angry or scared or whatever...”

Morgana huffs, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare. Both Merlin and Mordred cower slightly as they are reminded of angry and disproving mothers; as if they were about to be scolded for getting their clothes dirty, or ruining their dinner with too many snacks.

She just stares at him for a minute, before she sags slightly, and begins chuckling at the boys’ fearful faces:

“You are ridiculous. But it’s far too late to persuade you to leave now. Does Arthur know?”

Merlin’s face morphs into a mournful frown, as he looks to the floor and mumbles:

“No. I wish I could tell him but... with Uther...”

Morgana sighs, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“Uther won’t be here forever. We’ll just have to keep Arthur from turning into too much of a prat before he becomes King.-”

Merlin laughs at that, and looks up to give the woman a grateful smile. She returns his smile before continuing:

“-So, you can do the spell?”

Merlin winces slightly and gestures for Mordred to pull the collar of his shirt down, to reveal a blank patch of skin:

“I’ve actually already done it. It’ll stay there permanently until I take it off. Though we should keep checking, just in case.”

Morgana looks surprised, and smiles:

“What’s the problem then?-”

She rolls her eyes when Merlin looks at her incredulously:

“-Oh, come on Merlin. I’m not going to turn you in, you’re safe with me. You both are, and you always will be.”

The servant jumps up to give her a tight hug, which she quickly returns as Mordred nervously joins in. Morgana smiles to herself, and squeezes her boys tighter.

She may love Uther and Arthur, and she knew they loved her back, in their own way, but this? This was family.

The time finally came for Merlin to introduce his baby brother. Hunith had supposedly dropped him off late last night and left immediately, having to get back home quickly.

Morgana had gone to gather Gwen and Arthur whilst Merlin and Mordred waited in their room (it was definitely their room now, instead of just Merlin’s).

It was early in the morning, and to say that Arthur was grumpy at being woken by Morgana instead of Merlin, was an understatement.

But he eventually caved, and dressed himself as he grumbled, allowing Morgana to drag him to meet Gwen (who was equally confused) before the three of them made their way to the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius was suspiciously absent, and Morgana knocked on Merlin’s door, before slowly opening it and walking in, Arthur and Gwen following her quickly.

Gwen was surprised at the sight of Merlin stood behind a child, hands protectively on his shoulders, but smiled and gave Mordred a soft wave in greeting.

Arthur however, froze, and stared at the boy with a shocked expression.

Morgana moved to stand next to Mordred, and took one of his hands as Merlin began to speak:

“Gwen, Arthur, I want you to meet my baby brother, Mordred. He’s come to live with me.”

Gwen waved again, and bent over to Mordred’s height:

“Hi Mordred, I’m Guinevere, but all my friends call me Gwen. I didn’t know that Merlin had a brother, but it’s lovely to meet you.”

Mordred gave her a small smile, and Merlin suppressed a chuckle as-

“I like her, Em- Merlin.”

-echoed through his head.

Arthur’s gaze moved away from Mordred finally, up to Merlin.

Merlin stared back at him blankly, but Arthur saw the way his jaw clenched as he moved a protective hand down, to pull Mordred closer to him.

The Prince let out a deep sigh, growling slightly as Gwen looked at him in confusion, and Morgana and Merlin stared at him challengingly.

He shook his head as his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking back to Mordred with a strained smile:

“It’s nice to meet you, Mordred. My name’s Arthur.”

With that, Morgana smirks slightly, and Merlin relaxes. Gwen just rolls her eyes:

“Sorry about him Mordred, he doesn’t spend much time around people your age.”

Mordred gives her another smile, and Merlin glances to Gwen, before looking down at Mordred:

“Why don’t you go with Morgana and Gwen to see the city a little? Me and Arthur need to talk, I’ll catch up with you later, ok?”

Mordred turns around quickly, and grabs Merlin’s hand tightly:

“You promise??”

Gwen holds in an “awww” and Morgana hides her smile. Mordred rarely talks aloud (she’d been told of the mental link), but she’s glad to see he was feeling at least a little more comfortable.

Merlin crouches down, and pulls the boy into a tight hug, stroking his hair slightly as he stares straight at Arthur:

“I promise. I’ll never leave you for long Mordred.”

Arthur gulps at Merlin’s hard stare, but gives him an almost imperceptible nod, which Merlin returns as he stands up. Mordred gives him one more look as he takes one of Morgana’s hands, and one of Gwen’s, and follows them out of the room.

Morgana shuts the door quietly, and Arthur sighs again before looking at Merlin:

“What are you thinking Merlin?? You just thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Merlin crosses his arms, his glare still hard:

“No, I knew you would notice, I just had faith that you’re a better man than your father.”

Arthur is still deep in his “my father can do no wrong” faze, and takes great offense at that, taking a threatening step forward and growling:

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Merlin just huffs and raises an eyebrow slightly:

“I had assumed that you were not the type of man to have a child executed, just for existing.-”

Merlin copies Arthur’s step forward, raising his chin and continuing, his voice low and dangerous:

“-Did I assume correctly? Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect that kid, Arthur. Nothing.”

Arthur stares at him incredulously, only managing to hold Merlin’s surprisingly confident stare for a few moments, before nodding and stepping back:

“Of course. He’s a child, Merlin, I won’t see him hurt, if I can help it.”

Merlin nods slowly, not looking away from Arthur as he softly says:

“I’ll hold you to that.-”

He walks around The Prince, opening the door and stepping halfway through before looking over his shoulder, and quietly saying to a confused Arthur:

“-If you truly believed that all magic is evil, and always corrupted, no matter what, then you wouldn’t care that he’s a child; you’d want him dead anyway. So perhaps think about your... prejudices, a little more deeply, maybe you’ll discover you are different to Uther in other ways as well.”

Before Arthur can even really process what Merlin said, the servant is shutting the door behind him, and rushing off to find his new brother.

OK SO!!!

I really LOVED writing this, there will definitely be more parts, I just figured I should end it here before I got carried away

This series is finished!! (Links at the top <3 )

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switch-writer · 3 years ago

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Could you do tickle starmora headcannons?

A/N: I haven’t wrote for marvel in ages, so I’d normally deny something like this, BUT. Gotg happens to be like, top 5 favorite movies marvel wise so I gotta. Plus, I need to get out of my like, 3 month writer block LOL. I’m rusty. So fair warning. I also typically don’t do like, shipping/dynamic HCs? It’s usually for a single character. So I’m hyped! (Also, had to rewrite due to tumblr not wishing to save it. RIP.)

StarMora/Star-Lord and Gamora Tickle HCs:

• Alright! Let’s start this off simple, how did one another find out about the other being ticklish.

• Quill happened to be getting close to her, literally. He was scooting close to her because they had decided to stay back at the ship while the others went to explore. He was being confident as usual, asked her to dance. No biggie.

• Until her touch was extremely gentle when her her hands went back to his side/ribs.

• From confidence and a smooth dance, lovely moment, then he just kinda squeaked/yelped.

• As if that suddenly happening wasn’t enough, Gamora then asked what it was and it went from tracing to some scribbles. AND HE DIDNT WANNA SHOVE HER AWAY SO. He just. Kinda. Let her tickle him and get him all giggly.

• And with her being very direct and deciding to be a little bit soft for him since the others weren’t there, she happened to ask if she could continue since she wasn’t very familiar with it.

• PLACE YOUR BETS ON WHAT HAPPENED.

• However, Peter tended to love affection, whether it’s tickles, hugs, secret handshake, you name it. He probably loves it. So he ended up letting her. Though, in front of others he acted tough for the sake of being taken seriously- but shhh-

• She did stop sooner or later after making him a smiley, laughing, slightly flustered mess.

• And Quill. Oh Quill. He decided after he recovered and was slightly tingly, that he wanted to test something. He slipped his hands over and started scribbling around her tummy and sides.

• And impressively, she didn’t sock him! Well done Star-Lord! Actually she even decided to be fair for a moment and let him while slightly pushing him away. Though she started to poke him once he found a better spot.

• But needless to say this was a bit forgotten since the rest of the guardians showed up soon after.

• BUT THEN. The guardians found out Quill was, well, embarrassingly ticklish thanks to him being human/Terran, it sparked a tickle fight. And it served as a reminder of sensitivity.

• Gamora and Quill ended up in a tickle fight the next time they were alone.

• Gamora honestly finds him being ticklish both adorable and kinda amusing. Mainly since he tries to act all confident and then just squeals upon being tazed.

• However, he seems to like being on mostly even ground and being the main one to introduce her to the concept, along with her actually laughing. It just makes him quite happy.

• She’ll gladly wreck him to knock him down a peg or two. But it’s all in good fun for them.

• I can see Quill being the one to start tickle fights either as a attempt to make her laugh at a sucky joke or something along those lines. Gamora starting tickle fights is very rare and if she does? Everyone is in for it, whoever it is started with, she will finish and win it.

• And a final one for the time being! Hmm. Just for that extra bit of fluff, whenever they give kisses, one of them (it switches a lot) will just start quickly/rapidly give neck kisses to make the other giggle because it’s tickly.

There you go! Hope you’ve enjoyed. After not writing for a long time and recently revisiting marvel as a fandom, this was a nice little change. Thank you for the request! :)

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themultiverseofmarvel · 4 years ago

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Ranking Every Episode Of Marvel Studios' 'What If...?'

(updated weekly, be sure to check back next week!)

Only two episodes remain of Marvel Studios' What If...? Here is a little sneak peek of what is to come...

Here is every episode of What If...? ranked so far...

#7: What If… Killmonger Rescued Tony Stark

While it was great to hear Michael B. Jordan and Andy Serkis reprise their roles of Killmonger and Ulysses Klau, this felt like a story we really didn’t need to see. It’s the only episode of the show so far where I was genuinely bored at times, and it ultimately seemed pointless and ended up feeling like a more convoluted way for Erik Killmonger to achieve the same as what he did in Black Panther. Just when What If…? needed to step things up a gear, this episode actually held it back.

6/10

#6: What If... Captain Carter Were the First Avenger?

Although the episode had some fun action sequences, this episode really didn’t have much going for it. But perhaps that might have been by design? It was always going to be jarring seeing characters we know and love in animated form, but this episode was basically a retread of something we'd seen before and had some wildly inconsistent voice acting. It felt like it was just introducing us to the What If...? concept.

Not terrible, but it wasn't the best start.

6/10

#5: What If... the World Lost Its Mightiest Heroes?

The key to writing a good murder mystery is giving viewers just enough clues so that they can try and play along. Whilst this episode was fun (and pretty good to be fair) the payoff was slightly underwhelming because it came out of nowhere.

7/10

#4: What If... Zombies?!

Marvel Zombies is something that I, along with many others, have been hoping to see on the screen for many years. Whilst it's not entirely accurate to the comic book version, the 5th episode of What If...? was a fun and surprisingly heartwarming entry to the series. We got to see Hope van Dyne be the Avengers leader she should have been from the start, we got to see characters like Kurt actually get something to do, and we got to see a Futurama-esque version of Scott Lang, which was particularly silly.

This was one of the most gruesome entries of the MCU so far and left us with a twist that I hope we get to revisit in Season 2.

8/10

#3: What If... T'Challa Became a Star-Lord?

How good was it to hear Chadwick Boseman's voice again? After the slightly underwhelming first episode, What If...?'s second instalment provided us with a fun adventure, giving us a version of T'Challa we hadn't seen before, whilst also giving us fresh takes of The Collector and Thanos. We're still waiting to see what will happen after that finale with Ego and Star-Lord. Fingers crossed we'll find out what happens before the end of Season 1!

8/10

#2: What If... Thor Were an Only Child?

By the far the silliest episode of What If...? so far, this episode had me giggling like a child. A lot of the humour throughout the show has been more eye-rolling rather than chuckle-worthy, but Chris Hemsworth was clearly having a blast whilst recording this episode, which in turn made it a hugely enjoyable entry to the series. I couldn't help but laugh at his high-pitched squeals every time he was punched by Captain Marvel.

Considering What If...? is an animated show, and assumedly intended for children, it has delivered some of the MCU's darkest tales to date, so it was nice to have an episode that explored what it is like to be a teenager (even if you are a literal god) and the consequences of throwing a house party when your parents are away for the weekend.

Good silly fun.

8/10

#1: What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

This was the first truly great episode of What If...? and the darkest thing Marvel Studios have ever done, with Benedict Cumberbatch delivering his best performance in the MCU to date. Watching this, it's hard not to wish that Marvel and Disney would take risks as bold as this in their feature films and it proved that they can deliver more mature and darker content alongside the sillier entries such as Guardians of the Galaxy and Ant-Man.

Hopefully this is a good sign of things to come in Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness. We only have to wait until February to find out.

9/10

What's been your favourite episode of What If...? so far? Let us know!

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alltheworldsinmyhead · 4 years ago

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ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

!!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well.

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot.

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title.

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great.

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court.

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next.

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know.

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick.

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it. They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not.

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment.

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER?

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better. I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic.

#acosf #acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #rhysand #feysand

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

160 notes · View notes

anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

Note

sub!azriel but the reader and him aren't together yet and she keep teasing him without knowing until he finally has enough and goes and begs her

Pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

Warnings: smut, sub!az, slight degradation, lotta fluff tho

A/n: so i kinda did the ending of this drunk while watching pulp fiction so if it’s confusing that’s why and I apologise lol

——————————————————————————

He had first met you while training the priestesses. You were a friend of Emerie’s. A fae woman that almost brought him to his knees with a single look.

You had nervously spoken to Cassian about joining in the training and had progressed past his group and into Cassian’s within two weeks.

That was probably for the best.

Besides your original nerves, you had thrown yourself into training - eyes always on him as he spoke and went through moves, moved which you copied with the precision of a ballerina.

He had withered under your kind gaze, soft eyes making him want to fall into you and let you fight away all his fears. And whenever you had spoken to him it was with undivided attention, always listening carefully and providing whatever he needed - whether it was someone to complain to or someone to laugh with.

The night he fell in love with you however was different. He had gone into the library searching for Nesta and found her with Emerie, Gwyn and you, all relaxing in soft clothing.

He had almost fallen over when he saw you in an oversized hoodie with tight shorts and baby pink toenails, your face clean of makeup and still somehow the prettiest he had ever seen.

You had smiled brightly when you saw him, patting the empty space beside you and - unable to deny you - he had come to sit beside you, shivering when you lay your head on his shoulder with your book abandoned in you lap.

As he sat, Gwyn carried on explaining a new concept she had been exploring with her tutor when you spoke up, “But you’re basing that hypothesis presuming the butterfly effect doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head down then, as you sat up, frowning at the loss of contact while Nesta barely hid her smug grin behind her hand as she watched the interaction.

“The butterfly effect?” Gwyn asked, grabbing a notebook as you smiled.

“We’ll you’re talking about fate, saying that everything is predetermined. But the butterfly effect proposes that anything, even something as small as a butterfly flapping it’s wings, can change the whole course of the future and can split reality into different pathways. This creates alternate realities, one were the butterfly flaps it’s wings and one were it doesn’t, and even such a small change is still a change.”

He didn’t really understand your concept but Gwyn was furiously scribbling things down and scoring things out as you continued.

“So yes, there is a large chance that maybe once there was a predetermined set of events, but as things change and as people are born and stray from these paths, there is no feasible way to ensure everything goes exactly as determined.” You spoke with your hands, something he had never noticed before. You explained the concept slowly and clearly to Gwyn as you discussed the topic in depth, your face lighting up as you spoke about the unknown.

He fell in love then, when he watched you speak so enthusiastically about a topic he had no idea about. But even with a lack of knowledge he wanted to hear all about it - wanted to become so well versed in it that one day you might look at him the way he looked at you.

The problem there was that in his love drunk state, subtleties went out the window. You’d had suspicions before but now, with him blatantly staring at you, you were sure.

You had spoken to Nesta about him before and discovered he didn’t have the greatest track record of admitting his feelings so you decided to step it up a notch, ready to bust out all the tools that would make him confess.

You decided to start simple; removing your top during training and continuing in your sports bra, leaving lingering touches on his shoulders or hands, turning on what Emerie lovingly deemed your ‘sex eyes’ when you spoke to him. And it seemed to be working, he started avoiding your gaze and would pause speaking whoever you touched him, subconsciously leaning into your hand or gently laying his head atop your when you placed yours on his shoulder.

It wasn’t for a couple weeks however that you made a startling discovery. You had decided to make some cupcakes and Azriel had run into you in the kitchen - accepting your offer to help. He had been doing an amazing job delicately filling the cases with batter and you smiled when he finished without spilling a drop.

“Ugh perfect! You did amazing Az!” You had exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before opening the over with one hand and balancing the tray in the other.

He had made a sound under his breath and when you turned back you found him bright red and looking down with a shy smile on his face. Then it clicked why your beautiful, strong spy always seemed so nervous around you. He was a sub.

You were ecstatic the rest of the day, having hit the jackpot with Azriel and with a plan forming in your head. He wasn’t likely to admit his feelings to you but you had an idea that would make sure he had them before you did anything else.

The next day you saw him at training, smiling warmly at him as you usually did and hopping over to speak to him before you got started.

“Hey Az, did u get a cupcake last night?” You asked, smiling brightly when he blushed bright red having run off soon after receiving your praise with a half assed excuse about finding Cassian.

“Yeah they were amazing,” he said, finally meeting your eyes as you looked up at him expectantly.

“Ah couldn’t have done it without your help,” you praised and he blushed looking down again. You heard Cassian call your name impatiently and turned to stick your finger up at him, “Gotta go but we should hang out again tonight.”

He nodded with a smile, equal parts delighted and terrified at the idea of spending so much time with you.

“That’s a plan! See you tonight pretty boy,” you said, walking away while he stared dumfounded at your back. That - that was new.

He fumbled his way through training the priestesses, maybe pushing them slightly too hard because it meant he had plenty to do that didn’t involve thinking about you or about what seeing you tonight entailed.

Or that you thought he was pretty.

You on the other hand, couldn’t get through training quickly enough. You were finishing moves and sequences before Cassian even said them so used to his rhythm that he ended up just letting you leave when you were finished before everyone else - not without rolling his eyes dramatically however.

As you walked out Azriel couldn’t help his eyes from following you as you sauntered away with flushed, glowing skin and your hair swaying with every step as you shook it out. You shot a final look over your shoulder as you left to go shower, waving at him when you caught him staring with mischievous eyes.

You left quickly to go shower and get somewhat ready, ensuring you smelt good and pulling on your favourite underwear. You then decided to fuck with him and pulled on an oversized t-shirt that you kept from an ex-boyfriend on account of how soft it was and your smallest, softest shorts. You had finished getting ready and were making yourself an ice coffee when Azriel walked in with flushed cheeks, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt.

You whistled when you saw him and his eyes met yours, widening comically when he saw your bare legs - shorts barely visible beneath your large shirt.

“You alright hot stuff?” You asked as he moved to grab some bread from next to you. He inhaled sharply when you spoke and you barely contained your giggle,

“Want an ice coffee babes?”

“Um sure I don’t I-“ he stumbled over his words as his brain slowed trying to form a single thought other than your soft legs and even softer lips.

“I’ll make you one,” you said with a laugh, “so what do you want to do today?”

“I really don’t mind,” he muttered, watching as you mixed the drink for him and pressed it into his hand with a smile.

“What about a spa day, when was the last time you got to relax?”

“Cauldron I don’t think I’ve ever done that,” he joked and you smiled.

“Let’s do that then, I’ll get you so relaxed your bones will liquify,” you grabbed his hand as you pulled him out of the kitchen and started leading him to your room.

“Do- do I want that?” He asked and you squeezed his hand,

“You’ll understand soon,” you laughed.

You started with face masks and manicures, conversation flowing easily between the two of you despite Azriel’s nerves and the electricity that shot through him every time you touched him.

You were sitting reading together a while later when you shoved your book down and turned, your eyes focusing on him. He felt your heated gaze and tilted his head to meet your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked,

“You’re pretty,” you said suddenly, reaching a hand to trace his jaw gently. He went comically red and you smiled.

“What? I- you think I’m,” he stuttered and you giggled, nodding.

“Yeah you’re so pretty,” he could feel himself grow hard, blushing impossibly hard at your words.

“Say it again,” he forced out and you smiled - reaching a hand to rest on his thigh, stroking it gently as you spoke again.

“You’re so pretty, and I’m sure you’d be so good for me would you?” Your voice got lower as you spoke, Azriel whimpering as you slid your hand up his thigh. “Do you want that? Wanna be my good boy?”

Azriel’s eyes widened and his hips bucked up slightly as he nodded, movements small and insecure.

“Words sweet boy, I need you to say you want this,”

“I want this!” He practically shouted and you laughed sweetly,

“I’m so glad baby, I’ve wanted you for so long,” you confessed - stroking his face gently as you moved to straddle him.

“You- you have?” He was confused and feeling a million feelings at once but so happy with the position he found himself in.

“Mhm and if I’m correct I think you have to,” he nodded quickly underneath you, his hands flying up to grab your hips as you started slowly rolling your hips over him.

“I have,” his voice was already so desperate and you had barely touched him, smiling as you leaned down to press kisses gently into his jaw.

“Mm good boy,” you whispered, “would you like me to touch you now?”

He shook his head and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at him with concern filled eyes.

“Wanna touch you instead,” he whimpered out and you cooed stroking his hair.

“Awe baby, go ahead,” you giggled, climbing off his lap as he crawled off your bed and kneeled on the floor - eyes wide as you spread your legs in front of him. He gently removed your shorts and panties, inhaling sharply and your pretty pussy was revealed to him. He looked up at you with his doe eyes, whispering as he silently begged you for permission - but you just smiled and laughed at him with a gentle hand stroking through his hair.

“Please miss I’ll be so good for you, please just wan’make you feel good,” he begged and you relented.

“Okay baby boy,” he swung forward so quickly and buried himself into your pussy, spitting on it before devouring you. His long fingers spread your folds open and he probed your tight hole with his tongue, thumb coming up to rub circles on your clit as he moaned against your heat.

He ate you out like it was his sole purpose in life, putting all he had into the task - almost delirious as he finally got what he had wanted for so long. The days he had spent daydreaming about your soft legs that were now wrapped around his head, the nights he had spent thinking of your pillow lips and how sweet you would sound as you told him what you wanted him to do.

“Oh baby you’re doing so well for me, so good baby. My good boy,” he moaned loudly against your pussy, hips rutting into air.

“M’ yours, all yours,” he cried, pushing two long fingers into your tight pussy and twisting them as he looked up, meeting your eyes as you tangled a hand in his hair.

“Make me come then baby, prove you’re my good boy,” he nodded against you - desperate to make you happy as he worked with renewed vigour. “Azriel baby you’re so good at this.” Your moans were like music to his ears as he scissored his fingers inside you, sucking on your clit hard enough to make you see stars. You swore - hand tightening in his hair - as he pressed into your sweet spot and sucked particularly hard on your clit at the same time, coming hard with an arched back as Azriel stared up at you. Awed at how he had tamed the goddess above him.

You ended up having to pull him off of your pussy as he whined, wet lips pouting as they tried to get back to you.

“No baby no more,” your voice was stern and he whined as you pulled him up to his feet, standing with him and spinning the two of you around.

He was considerably taller than you but even the height difference didn’t negate the power you had over him and when you shoved him down onto the bed and straddled him - kissing him harshly with your fingers squeezing his cheeks together.

“You’re so good baby, so good,” you whispered into his mouth.

“Did I do well?” His voice was so soft that you cooed and kissed him again.

“So, so well that you deserve a reward,” he looked up at you with those hazel eyes you loved so much, “do you want that, want to fuck me?”

“Yes miss, yes please wan’ fuck you so bad. S’all I think about,” you could never resist Azriel and now he was begging, you couldn’t deny him anything.

You reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, choking on a breath at his size. “Fuck baby, you’ve been holding out on me,” your hand moved on its own accord, pumping him slowly - needing two hands to hold him.

He was moaning lowly as you pumped him, precum leaking out the tip and making it easier for you to slip onto him, sinking down until you were fully seated and you could see a faint bulge through your belly.

“God you’re so big baby, filling me up so well.” You moaned as Azriel tried to form a single coherent thought other than how tight and wet you were.

“Do I feel good baby? Do you like having me wrapped around you?” You asked and he simply moaned in reply. You continued bouncing as you waited for a response but when he didn’t reply you slapped his cheek lightly.

“Words Azriel I asked you a question.” Your words were harsh but you spoke with a sickly sweet tone.

“You feel so good, didn’t know you could feel this good. So tight,” he moaned loudly when you clenched down on him, his words making a new gush of wetness coat his cock.

You smiled, drawing a hand over his hair as you bounced in his lap, the strength in your legs only letting you lift yourself halfway up his cock before you’re sinking back down.

“Fuck Az, baby you’re so big,” you whined into his mouth as you kissed him and he responded with a low grunt - his mind and body completely under your control, despite your intentions.

“I’m gonna come miss, please please let me come,” he begged after a few minutes of your hips rolling slowly over his and you laughed, holding him in your arms.

“Awe such a needy baby,” you cooed, “gonna come so early baby, needy slut.”

He whimpered underneath you, hips rutting into you as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise - desperately trying to stop himself from cumming as you were yet to give him explicit permission.

But that was a losing battle as he lost himself in the warmth of your cunt. He was throbbing within you, pulsating as you clenched around him, the sounds your pussy made as he pushed into your body. He was addicted to the small whimpers leaving your mouth and as he watched you move he knew he would never be able to let you go. He had fallen so hard over the short time he had known you and now he watched you take over his body when you had already taken his soul.

“Please can I come miss, please,” his begs were so soft that you nodded, kissing him again.

“Let go for me baby, show me you’re mine,” you commanded and he shook underneath you, coming with a string of curses.

“‘M yours miss, all yours please,” his eyes were teary and voice broken, but he looked so happy as he stared up at you - mouth hanging open in a silent sob.

He reached a hand between you rubbing your clit gently as you came all over his cock with a loud moan and shudder. He guided you through your orgasm, refusing to take his eyes off of you, completely entranced with you.

When you had both come down from your powerful orgasms, you climbed off him and stood to retrieve a wash cloth and to relieve yourself in the bathroom. When you returned Azriel was staring up at you with tired and nervous eyes.

You cleaned him up gently, pressing gentle kisses into his face and lips as you did so.

“You okay baby?” You asked when you were finished, pulling him into your arms as you lay back down - his head on your chest.

“I’m so good right now,” he whispered, propping his chin on your chest and looking up at you, “was that- was I alright?”

His voice was so small and you furrowed your brows, “baby you were so good, perfect.” You promised, stroking his hair and leaning to kiss his head gently.

“Are you sure cause I-“

“Baby,” you cut him off, “you’re all I want, I’ve wanted this for so long and you were so good. Was it good for you?”

He nodded furiously and you laughed as he came up to kiss you, “then we’re all good baby.”

“I think I love you,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled.

“I think I love you too.”

#acofas #acotar #acomaf #azriel #acowar #azriel x reader #acofs #acosf

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blanknamed · 4 years ago

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trial and error pt. 3 [senku x reader]

I had a lot of issues writing this chapter for some reason. I think I ran out of creativity for a good few weeks so I kinda struggled trying to keep Senku in character. I really just wanted to get the third chapter out though so I hope you like it!

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER THREE: FINDINGS

He was standing near his base by the time [Name] was done. From the looks of it, he had tried to dress up as well, even if it looked like the littlest effort was made. His hair stayed as big as it was, but what seemed to be a makeshift bowtie was settled on his neck (albeit lopsided, but [Name] didn’t really expect much from him in the first place).

“Jeez, who dressed you up, the local village boys?” She asked once she was within hearing range with Senku.

Scowling, Senku only shook his head. Flicking the strip of rag around his neck, he said, "Chrome and the bumbling fools of guards obviously haven't gone on dates before."

"I don't think you have much room to talk. Besides I’m pretty sure that was obvious," [Name] replied humorously, remembering when Ginro couldn't even look her straight in the eye during her and Senku's first few months at the village. "Why would you ask them of all people anyways?"

Senku raised his eyebrow, as if finding the question peculiar. "Who should I have asked?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the married men in the village?" [Name] suggested, watching as Senku furrowed his brows even more. Giggling, she shoved his shoulder. "So much for being a genius. What, were you so nervous to go on this date with me you forgot something as simple as retrieving data from the most obvious people?"

Senku rolled his eyes. "I'm busy with other things--saving the world from going back another thousand years in society, being one of them.” He reasoned as he turned his head away from her.

[Name] only laughed at him, pushing him to forward so they can start walking towards the woods. “Let’s just get this date other with, shall we? You didn’t forget to plan, I’m presuming?"

“Of course I didn’t. Do you take me for some idiot or something?” Senku asked as he peered at the younger girl, who only gave him a knowing look. Instantly, he shook his head. “No don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” [Name] trailed off. “Remember when you were so caught up in one of your projects you ended up putting too much laundry detergent in your washing machine?”

That day had been burned into her memory--it had probably been the only time she’d seen Senku visibly panic over something so mundane. They were helplessly watching the washing machine shake violently and become a soapy mess in it’s little area for almost an hour until Byakuya came home to a disgustingly sweet smelling hallway and two elementary school children covered in bubbled up laundry detergent from head to toe.

“Don’t remind me; I smelled like laundry detergent for two months.” Senku muttered.

“It was funny, though. Definitely took thoughts away from my dad and brother.” [Name] replied happily. She didn’t need to turn her head to see that Senku had immediately spun his head toward her at the mention of her father.

A warm silence followed between them, no doubt Senku was thinking of something to say--should he say something about it? Should he brush it off? Senku had known [Name] enough to know that, while he never took anything like emotions too seriously, she wasn’t exactly emotionally attached to much either. He didn’t doubt for a second that [Name] thought about her family during those late night preparations she partook with him when Kohaku or Chrome couldn’t stay up past the 20th hour like they did.

He also didn’t doubt that she had done the same thing he had done once she thought her family over--understand the probabilities of seeing her mother and finding her father and brother’s grave were most likely slim and choosing to focus the task at hand: saving the world from total chaos at the hands of Tsukasa and his wildlings. So, she kept it silent, just like she always did.

Should I even mention anything about that? He wondered to himself as he helped her walk down a narrow junction between some large trees. They’d known each other long enough to understand each other without much verbal communication. Even after not having much contact once Senku entered middle school along with the whole thousands of years of being petrified in time, they still had a weird connection with each other. Maybe that was why he decided to free [Name] of her stony confindes; no one else could read his mind or understand what he’s thinking like she does.

Whatever route he took, it wouldn’t be awkward, he finally concluded when they reached the river. He let [Name] hop on the rocks that stood above the water before following suit. “Right, that was the day they got into that car accident.” He stated once they reached the other side.

[Name] hummed. “Mom was stuck at the hospital all day and wanted to take me with her; I couldn’t bear the smell there. It was too clean. So I went to your place thinking you might need something since you’re so useless--OW!” She rubbed her head as she glared over at Senku, who looked the other way, acting as if he hadn’t just slapped the back of her head so hard it made her hair flip over her head. “Anyways, I thought you needed me for something and apparently you did, but I don’t think an eight year old could have done much if a ten year old couldn’t do anything except stand around and watch the mess. It was funny, though. Mom and I laughed about it after a few years.”

“Glad to know my endless suffering and pure shock brought joy.” Senku said sarcastically, though [Name] could pick up the light heartedness behind it.

Elbowing him lightly so he can turn to look at her, [Name] smiled at him. “Well just so you know every time I think of the dad and brother, I also think of you with a bubble beard right after.”

Senku, for a moment, felt something turn before he wrinkled his nose. “Did you just family zone me? During a date?” He asked disgustedly. It was his turn to get a slap on the back of his head.

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from that?” [Name] asked, irritated. She decided to look forward as they kept walking, however it seemed as though they walked mindlessly through endless amount of trees. “Where are we going anyways?”

“Just a few more feet. There’s a clearing close by; I think you’d like it.” Senku said as he nudged her forward.

[Name] covered her eyes as she began to notice leaves becoming lower and lower to the point that she had to duck and sometimes even squat to get through some spaces. Man, if I knew this would happen, I would’ve worn something besides this kind of dress, she thought reluctantly as she watched the ends and edges of the dress get dirtied. Still, she persisted as she had been curious as to what the clearing had looked like. She hadn’t gone so far in terms of exploring for the past few weeks; winter was coming and Senku needed every available person possible to help prep the village for the freezing season. She spent hours lining and sewing furs onto their cloaks and coats to the point that she left little prick marks on her hands permanently.

“Okay, we’re here.” Senku announced once they both managed to stand again. Shaking a few leaves away from her head, [Name] looked up to see a green clearing, like Senku said. However, he never said how… Ethereal it was. Wild flowers, ones she vaguely recognized to be new versions of flowers from the past, spread across the spanse of the field. Lightning bugs flicked and glowed every now and then, being the main source of light besides the makeshift lantern Senku was currently crafting beside her.

“Whoa,” was [Name]’s only response. “Don’t tell you found this last minute just for a date, Senku.”

A snicker followed right after. “No. I found it a few months ago when trying to collect foxtail millet for the noodles. Let’s keep walking, though. This isn’t what I wanted you to see.”

It’s not? [Name] thought as she let Senku lead her further past the clearing, walking around the flowers as best as possible. The walk was silent, which surprised [Name] since Senku sometimes never did keep his mouth shut when it came to his little experiments. Could it be he's taking this date more seriously than she expected? She let that thought cross her mind as she watched him walk ahead of her. Not possible. If anything, he might just be keeping things a secret since I'm the test subject. [Name] thought to herself. Why would he even take this seriously in the first place?

"Look I know this is a date and all, but could you not glare at me?" Senku finally piped up, looking at his companion warily. "You look like you're about to plot my murder?"

"Who said I haven't already?" [Name] quipped, finally shaking herself from her thoughts. "Anyways, where did you take us, Casanova?"

She laughed as she watched Senku's face scrunch up in disgust at his nickname. He opened his mouth, ready to spew an insult before he stopped himself, staring at the shorter girl. Sighing, he just waved a hand forward. "Look above you."

"Above…?" [Name] questioned as she craned her neck. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the lightened sky above her. Of course, she's had plenty of nights where she stood outside to marvel at the stars and sky--she had never seen it so bright pre-petrification. She had thought that was the brightest and clearest she'd ever seen when she was in Senku's observation tower.

That is, until today.

"It's so… So…" [Name] started, but couldn't quite put her words together. She felt Senku brush up against her shoulder as he finished for her.

"Beautiful." He complimented as he stared up as well.

The sky was littered with various shades of purples, pinks, and blues. There wasn’t a coud in sight, which allowed the stars to litter across the dark plain above them. Faintly, she can make out certain constellations, pointing out the ones she wasn’t too sure to her companion, who nodded in confirmation to all of them.

"Who knew we'd get to see the sky as non-polluted as this." Senku said as they continued to keep watch over the sky.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." [Name] laughed. "I thought the observation tower was something else, but you really outdid yourself here, Senku. I didn't even expect you to walk this far without having you get carried by Chrome or something."

"Killing the mood." Senku replied, flicking her forehead, though [Name] made sure to take notice of his shortened breath he tried to hide. She pretended to feign ignorance even further when she let him walk behind her, catching his breath behind some bushes and then shuffling around until he finally brought a basket out.

"Suika should've given better instructions on where to find this thing." The spiky haired scientist said. "It looked like it got buried under a bunch of dirt instead of sitting plain out in the open like she said."

Senku opened the lid, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out two bowls of his notorious green ramen, wrapped tightly in large leaves to keep it from spilling. With it came a makeshift picnic blanket (though, it just looked like old scraps of dresses sewn together over the years; no doubt Suika had asked one of the older village women if she can borrow it). Together, they worked to keep the blanket down, placing heavy rocks at the corners to keep it from flicking upward since the wind picked up a little stronger from where they placed themselves.

"This ramen tastes gross." Senku groaned once he settled down, though it didn't stop him from continuing to eat it. [Name] only rolled her eyes as she ate it herself (though she did have to agree with Senku; the ramen was gross, but she put up with it anyways), basking in the windy air.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet about the information you’ve gathered for this date,” [Name] said. “Usually you relay the data to me once you get it all down."

“Can’t exactly tell the subject about the data I’m gathering about them.”

“Oh but you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?” [Name] pushed. Truth be told, she was more curious on just how exactly he thought of the experiment. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it, but she had zero idea on what his plans are--what were his variables? Was he gathering information? Was he including numbers or was all of this just pure observation? There was no doubt in her mind that someone was observing them as well; most likely Kohaku since she’s better off at hiding and watching without being noticed once.

“Maybe. I’ll tell you after I’m done with this whole experiment.” Senku replied as he took a sip of the water packaged with them before handing it off to her. [Name] took it graciously, taking a few sips as she thought about his wording.

Quirking up her eyebrow curiously, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Senku confirmed. “You think one night will determine this whole thing? It might take more days actually--a few weeks even. I’ll gather all my information, relay it to you, and then confirm whether or not love is just a construct of emotions for me. Which it will be, from the information I’ve gathered.”

[Name] watched him in disbelief. There was no way she actually heard that correctly. Weeks? How’s that going to work? Would I even last a few weeks managing to go on more dates with this idiot? She questioned. “Wha-- I-- Don’t you have a grandiose plan that requires all your time and attention?”

She only received a shrug as an answer. What the hell does that even mean? She questioned herself as [Name] watched Senku stretch. He was the one repulsed by the idea of going on a date. Why would he extend this to weeks? She let herself wonder, pulling all the probable possibilities as to why he decided it so suddenly. Sure, Senku was right about not being able to gather enough information from just one date, but he could have easily just done one or two more nights of their little experiment dates instead of presuming it down to a matter of weeks.

Finally it finally hit [Name]: he was hiding something. What it was exactly, she’s not entirely sure, though she knew Senku was probably planning something stupid that could most likely put him in danger, or worse killed, which in turn would cause her to intercept and talk him out of it. He was probably using this date shenanigans to distract her from his death inducing plans.

Squinting her eyes at him, she decided to hold back on her on findings. After all, if he isn’t bothering to tell her what he’s gathering on her, she’ll do the same. Instead, she sighed, opting to make it seem as if she should have known. “You’re unbelievable.” [Name] replied.

“Oh, I know. That’s what gets you on your toes right?”

PREVIOUS PART - NEXT PART

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Jeon Wonwoo

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Wonwoo isn’t huge on affection and aegyo, so when he does approach you with affection, it’s always special. He’ll make sure to make you feel as loved as possible as he knows there are times when you want a little more from him.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you met through a couple of the members at an event and naturally got talking. Wonwoo was incredibly shy, and so were you, which ended up being the perfect catalyst to get the two of you talking with each other throughout the whole event, much to the joy of the others who were watching you.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Love at first sight wasn’t something that Wonwoo believed in, but he wasn’t far off it with you. As the two of you got to know each other more after the event over weeks, Wonwoo knew that he was falling for you. After a couple of months just enjoying each other’s company, Wonwoo ended up confessing to you whilst you were out and exploring one afternoon in the middle of nowhere, mainly to stop you thinking you were lost.

D ⇴ DATES

The two of you would often spend your days indoors with each other, Wonwoo wasn’t someone who was huge on going out and exploring things. He loved using your dates as a time to relax with each other, he’d often set up his games console so that the two of you could play together. Other times, your dates would just be spent laid together with a book in hand, and maybe takeout beside you, peaceful, but still knowing that each other was there which was just what the both of you wanted.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

The concept of love wasn’t something that Wonwoo necessarily believed in, so he never worried about dating. However, when he met you, he began to understand a little more about love and why people always used to tell him you’d know when you found the one. He was still skeptical for quite some time, but with the more time that he spent with you, the more he allowed himself to open up to the idea of falling in love and suddenly having one person take up such a huge part of your life.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Wonwoo has one of the softest hearts in the world, and fighting will be an absolute nightmare for him. When the two of you argue, he’ll get very shy and quiet, he won’t ever really know quite what to say. He’ll usually listen to everything that you have to say and wait until you’re done to take the chance to defend himself. Once you’ve both said how you feel, Wonwoo will usually be the one to try and put things right and continue the discussion until you can both find a point that you agree on to move past what you initially disagreed on.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Being able to introduce you to his family was a huge deal for Wonwoo. They often worried that he wouldn’t want to find himself a partner because he didn’t trust in love , so to be able to show you off and let them see how happy he was around you meant a lot both to him, and to them as well.

H ⇴ HOME

The two of you were very lucky that Mingyu was so understanding of you both which meant the dorm was often your home. But Wonwoo also loved to spend time at your place too. He often worried that the boys would be a bit of a burden for you, even if you always tried to assure him that they weren’t.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

When Wonwoo beat you at your favourite game, he suddenly said those three special words to stop you getting mad at him. He didn’t even think before he spoke, but he trusted in his heart and that it had made the decision to speak up. You were surprised to begin with, but when he said it again, you finally realised that he’d meant to say it all along.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There weren’t many times when Wonwoo would get jealous, he wasn’t someone to cause a scene if there was a person around who wanted to speak to you. But, there was very much a line as far as Wonwoo was concerned, and if someone overstepped it, he’d certainly be a little more protective. He was shy to a point, but when it came to protecting you and making sure that you were safe, a wave of confidence would often wash over him to remind him that he was your boyfriend and that he had to be there for you.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having a family was something that Wonwoo had never really considered before he met you. Without love, he knew there was a small chance of having a family, but just like how he began to believe in love, he began to believe in kids and a family of his own too. He’d often find himself drifting into daydreams about what your future together could look like, but he’d never let himself runaway too far just yet.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

The two of you could often be heard by the other members giggling away to yourselves. Neither of you were loud, but you shared a very similar sense of humour which would often leave the others clueless as to what you both found so funny. Wonwoo’s laugh would always put a smile on your face, neither of you had to be doing anything, but as soon as you’d hear just the smallest sound of a giggle, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself Ron laughing too. Laughter was the thing that brought Wonwoo out of his shell more than anything when he met you, and really was the sign that made you realise that he was comfortable around you.

M ⇴ MISSING

No one would ever know when Wonwoo was missing you, he’d very much keep it to himself. Mingyu would usually be the only one who would be able to tell when something was wrong, but even then, Wonwoo would be very reluctant to tell him. Usually, Mingyu would end up getting in contact with you to tell you what was going on and how he was closing off, and ask if you’d try and give Wonwoo a call or a text. As soon as he saw your name pop up, he’d leave the room, which was also the definitive sign to the others that he was missing you, even if he’d always say no whenever any of them asked.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Wonwoo tended to just call you ‘jagi,’ as he much preferred traditional nicknames for you. It was something that would always roll off the tongue for him, he wouldn’t even need to think, whenever he addressed you, it would come.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your voice, it was very comforting for Wonwoo when he could hear you beside him or listen closely to whatever it was that you had to say to him.

P ⇴ PDA

Affection in public wasn’t something that Wonwoo was huge on. He was smart at reading situations however, and if he felt like he needed to hold your waist or pull you a little bit closer, he’d do it without second thought to make sure that you were safe with him. Other than that, he’d often hold your hand in public too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Wonwoo was quite a fan of discussions with you and talking about random things about the world. He’d often ask you what you thought of a random topic to spark a discussion between you both and find out more about you and your views, especially at the start of your relationship.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Your game dates at home became such a frequent occurrence that the two of you turned it into a bit of competition. Whoever lost the most at the end of the month would end up buying something for the other person that they wanted. The two of you loved that they added a bit of competition to your evenings, and especially enjoyed when you won for the month and had to get the other to buy you some thing.

S ⇴ SEX

It took a little while for Wonwoo to feel comfortable with you in a intimate capacity. To begin with, he was shy and worried about not doing a good enough job for you, however over time, as he began to learn more about your body and the things that you enjoyed, he found himself relaxing a lot more. Once he knew how to make you feel good, he became a lot more confident and self assured around you too.

T ⇴ TEXTS

The two of you didn’t tend to text much as Wonwoo much preferred to call you so that he was able to hear the sound of your voice. If you didn’t pick up his call, he’d try again and again until eventually he heard you answer.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Wonwoo never saw himself as boyfriend material until he met you. He never imagined that he’d enjoy falling in love as much as he did with you, but then he never really trusted love as a whole until he met you.

V ⇴ VACATION

Any free time that Wonwoo had would usually end up being spent at the dorm too. He enjoyed being in his own space and bubble, and best of all, he enjoyed being able to stay home with you whilst you still went out to work in the day. The only difference was he’d be there waiting every night.

W ⇴ WHINING

Whining wasn’t something that Wonwoo tended to do, if he didn’t have your eyes on him then he’d patiently wait until he got them again.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Wonwoo much preferred to kiss you then he did to cuddle you. He’d often use his height to be able to reach a part of your body that you never thought he could from the position that he was stood in. Whilst he wasn’t huge on affection, he was a big fan of kisses and how easily they were both to give to you, but also be received from you. He’d often stand before you and drop subtle hints that he wanted a kiss from you.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a first for him for so much, and hopefully the last too.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

You’ll often end up having to push Wonwoo into bed at night. You’ll usually spot him starting to stare and become distant, refusing to stop annoying him until he finally caved and allow you to put him to bed.

---

Masterlist

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #seventeen drabble #seventeen one shot #seventeen fluff #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo reaction #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo one shot #wonwoo fluff #kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen wonwoo

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fanfic-about-fictif · 4 years ago

Text

Know about it

Type: drabble/oneshot

Pairing: Felix Escellun x female reader

Words: 1552

Warnings: slight nsfw

The first time Felix noticed it was when she decided to have a competition in climbing trees against Sage. He watched them from afar, leaned on the windowsill of the castle, since he made it abundantly clear that under no circumstance will he participate in these kind of shenanigans. Sage responded at Felix’s condescending tone with a witty remark, while she didn’t comment on it, only asking Felix to cheer for her. He was grateful that she never pushed him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, without making fun of him or remarking on him being stuck up.

Still, he had to admit it was fun seeing her try to beat Sage. She was pretty good at first and Felix actually thought she had a fighting chance, but Sage still managed to get to a higher branch. She was giggling and laughing the whole time, having fun in both climbing the tree and teasing Sage.

Felix noticed it when she was hanging from a thick tree branch, her shirt riding up and revealing only a small part of it on her waist, the rest of it hidden under the fabric.

After she got back on the ground, she watched Sage carefully go down the tree, joking with him about needing help from something called firefighters. Felix could tell that Sage didn’t understand the concept of firefighters either, but still put on an offended face expression as she continued to tease him.

Felix grinned as he looked at them, shaking his head like a father does when he sees his children playing in mud.

The second time though, Felix saw it from more up close.

She was training with Anisa, which led to an accident. Felix didn’t know exactly how it happened, but she got hurt, earning a superficial cut across her abdomen. He didn’t want to hear Anisa’s explanations, since he was too busy tending to her wound and scolding Anisa at the same time. When a fight between Anisa and Felix was imminent and tensions got a little high, she assured Anisa everything will be alright and that she’s free to go, without needing to worry about her.

Felix was concentrated on disinfecting her wound and stopping the weak bleeding, as Anisa sighed and left them to it. He was focused and his hands were practiced, like he did this a million times already. She was silent, laying down on the couch and gazing at him. Well, actually, admiring his scrunched up face and the worry he radiated. She felt good when she was being taken care of, and more importantly, she felt safe around him.

“It’s nothing serious, Felix. I’ll be fine.”, she smiled at him, but he didn’t look up.

“She should know better.”, he chided. “She’s supposed to protect you, not put you into harm’s way.”

“Don’t be dramatic, I’m alright.”, she put her thumb under his chin, making him look up at her.

He relaxed immediately, which was her goal. After a heavy sigh, he wrapped up her wound, also covering up the thing he wanted to ask about for quite some time, only he was too scared to do so. It was a big tattoo, stretching along her side, from her waist upwards. But, it was in a rather private space, so Felix was not feeling comfortable asking about it. Despite the fact he had a clear view of it mere seconds ago.

The curiosity was eating him alive though. Did it have a meaning? Was it just something she liked and did it in a spur of the moment?

He wanted to know about it, just like he wanted to know everything about her, but was too intimidated and shy to ask.

After some time, he forgot about it. Other things were pestering his thoughts and it was pushed somewhere deeper, in the corner of his mind.

The third time he saw it was when she actually showed it to him and told him all about how she got the tattoo in question.

They were kissing in the library, pressed against the bookshelf. Felix boxed her in between his hands, which she was equally surprised and pleased about. It seemed like with each passing day they spent together, he was opening up more and getting more cosy and content with their relationship. They were taking it slow, but there were certain heated moments when both of them got frustrated and wanted nothing more than to tear each other’s clothes off and have their way with the other.

This was one of those moments, when their kisses were hungry and passionate, their bodies pressed together. Her arms were around him, one hand going through his soft hair and pulling at the strands softly. As the kiss deepened, his hands explored her body, hesitantly at first. But then, as she bit his bottom lip teasingly, he responded by slipping his hands beneath her shirt.

It was then he remembered about the tattoo, without actually seeing it, but knowing his fingers are tracing the skin where the black lines were drawn. Felix broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. For a moment, they stared at each other’s eyes, feeling the connection, the unspoken love linking them together.

“What is it?” she asked when she noticed Felix’s eyebrows furrow, like he was thinking about something.

He blinked, like she just woke him up from a daydream. She couldn’t tell if his cheeks were rosy from the make out session or if this was one of those times she interrupted him thinking about something he would rather not share.

She smirked, moving closer to him. Right when Felix was about to lean in closer to her lips for another kiss, she turned her head and moved to kiss his neck, pecking tenderly at first, but then biting slightly, certainly leaving marks that were going to be visible tomorrow. Felix’s head fell back and his eyes closed in satisfaction, even letting a soft moan escape his lips after she planted a few more kisses along his collarbone.

“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking about or do I have to pry it out of that pretty head of yours?” she whispered against his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

When she pulled back, she was thoroughly delighted at the dazed and gleeful expression on Felix’s face.

He cleared his throat, but smiled as he locked eyes with her. “Uhm, I… A certain question simply popped into my head.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Wh-what?” Felix suddenly tensed up. “No, it was nothing important, really. Just something I… Well, it does not matter in the slightest, especially right now when…”

“Felix.”, she stopped his blabbering. “Tell me. Please.”

He stared at her with an open mouth, contemplating whether that was a smart idea.

Then, he looked at his hands, still resting under her shirt. He caressed her soft skin as he moved his fingers up, slowly revealing more and more of her bare skin and also more of her tattoo under her right breast. He stopped when he felt the lace of her bra, blushing furiously. They sometimes slept in the same bed together, never naked, but often in their underwear. Somehow, this moment seemed even more intimate.

Felix’s grey, stormy eyes glanced up at her. “I… I wanted to know about your tattoo.”

At first she was stunned, then Felix felt her whole body shake under his fingertips from the laughter. “That’s all? Why didn’t you ask sooner?”

Felix shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Well, you can ask me that too, before you want to know something that you think I won’t want to talk about.”

He nodded and she kissed him in turn.

Much to Felix’s shock, with one swift movement, she took the shirt off over her head and tossed it aside. At that point, she looked a little unsure and shy as well.

As if sensing her unease, Felix smiled reassuringly. “You are beautiful. And uh, the tattoo looks wonderful as well.”

She looked down on it, seeing Felix’s fingers slowly trace the black lines of the beautiful depiction of roses. The lines were thin but both the roses and the leaves were extremely detailed. It was in black and white and simple, but yet it looked so alive, even without the shading that usual tattoos have.

“My best friend from home really liked roses. I wanted something to remember her by.”

Felix’s heart ached. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”, she whispered, taking a deep breath. “This way, I always have her with me.”

Felix was mesmerized by the tattoo, feeling content at finally finding out the meaning behind it. He was the one to initiate the kiss now, soft and loving, his arms sliding around her and embracing her tightly.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Do you like it?”

“I’m disappointed in myself for not asking about it sooner.”, Felix concluded. “I like it very much.”

“Do you want to check if I have any other ones?” she asked, winking at him.

“Couldn’t you just tell me-“ he caught himself, eyes widening when he realized what she meant by that. “Right. You mean… Yes. I would very much like to check if you have any other ones.”

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 4: The Bounty ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2400>

Warnings: allusions to male masturbation, protector!Din comes with his own warning.

Series Masterlist

Maker, you were beautiful.

The way you slept was so peaceful, basking in the moonlight. Din was surprised you could even sleep that well on top of the rock hard slap he called a bed. He thought the child was cute when he slept, but as Din watched you, revelling in the way your chest rose and fell with every breath, he swore he had never seen such heavenliness in his life.

He’d gotten lucky, he had to admit that. You were the Manda’lor, and you could’ve been a Gungan or a Rodian or who knows what… but you weren’t. You were a human who looked distinctly similar to the illustrations of angels in the fairytale books Din grew up reading. You were brave and fierce, but you were still the same girl who burst into tears only minutes after meeting Din. You were special, different. And Din had never let himself feel this way about anyone before. Truthfully, it scared him.

And Din didn’t get scared either. He was a scarred, battle hardened Mandalorian warrior. Very little affected him... but already, his heart ached for you. He was yearning. He saw the way you were with the child, and the love you had in your heart. He was a fighter, and the way the creed had brought him up, he’d never known any different, but you were a princess. You showed him that you didn’t need to win your battles through violence, but you could do it through peace and love. Just like your mother; duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.

Din sighed, and raised his hands to remove his helmet. You were asleep, so it was okay. Just for once he wanted to look at you with his own eyes. And somehow, it was even better. Din discarded his gloves and quietly took off his beskar armour and boots, preparing to settle himself down for bed, but as he undressed, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. So so beautiful.

Maybe you and Din were more similar than you first realised, because Din was throbbing by the time he went to the refresher. He leaned against the cool wall and closed his eyes, palming at his erection through his pants. He felt so confined and he was desperate for some kind of relief. But when he closed his eyes, he wasn’t seeing the usual darkness. All he could see was you.

-----

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep for. But it was the distinct smell of bone broth that woke you up. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and it took you a few moments to focus your vision, getting used to what was about to be your temporary (yet still new) home. You stretched your body and yawned, bringing your fists to your face to rub your eyes.

“You're up,” Din commented, his modulated voice stating the obvious. You jumped when you saw the beskar clad figure standing at the edge of the bed—just watching you. How long had he been watching you? “There's a bowl of bone broth waiting for you.” he informed you and you scrunched up your nose at the unpleasant smell. “What? You don't like it?”

No. Was there anyone in the galaxy who actually liked bone broth? You assumed it was just something the settlers on Sorgan ate because they had no other choice, and it was cheap. Did the Mandalorian really drink bone broth? He’d already sounded irked and you had just woken up.

“Uhm…” your voice trailed off, your gaze flicking between the bowl of soup and the Mandalorian. "Do you have any fruit? Sourberries, maybe?" You tried your best to dodge his question and sound polite, but judging from Din’s reaction, you mustn’t have done a good job.

Din scoffed, before taking his rifle out of the armoury and attaching it to the holster on his back. What did he need a rifle for? "No. You think I have the credits for that? Sorry princess." He grumbled. And with that, he disappeared into the shadows of the ship.

You felt bad. You didn't mean to offend him, although you could completely understand how your comment came across. Ungrateful. You weren't ungrateful, it was just… bone broth was what you fed to the palace bluurgs. It wasn't something you ever voluntarily chose to consume. You looked back over at the steaming bowl of soup and sighed. Why did you even feel bad? You barely knew him. You were the literal princess of Mandalore and - no, you wouldn’t feel bad for a child of the watch. If anything he should feel bad for the actions of his people and what they had done to yours. What they had done to you. You slipped out of Din’s bed and picked up your bowl of broth before heading down the hull of the ship, wanting to find him and apologise. He’d given up his bed for you, he was making sure you were well fed, the least you could do was say sorry.

But he was nowhere in sight. You’d noticed the ramp of the ship had been lowered, and a stream of natural sunlight was blazing into the ship. You had landed. Were you on Nevarro? Had he… had he left you without saying anything? Surely not. You padded into the cockpit only to find Grogu sitting in the pilot seat, playing with a small steel ball. He threw it between his three clawed hands and giggled every time he caught it.

“Hey kid,” you sighed, slipping into the co-pilot seat. “Where did your dad go?”

Grogu garbled a long winded response and you listened closely. No way. He was a bounty hunter? Kriff… you’d somehow managed to tie yourself into a bounty hunter’s affairs. You cursed yourself but continued to listen to the child’s explanation. Din had gone out to earn some quick credits, goodness knows what for. And he’d left Grogu on the ship with strict instruction to watch over you. You couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. He’d asked his child to make sure you wouldn’t get into trouble.

“He can’t just leave me on the ship and not say anything,” you laughed to yourself in disbelief, letting your head fall in your hands. The birds outside the ship tweeted and for Din to have left the ramp open, you knew that Nevarro must have been a safe planet. At least for the most part. “Do you come here much?” You asked Grogu, who nodded his head in affirmation, You hummed, picking up the child and nursing him on your lap. “Does your father always expect people to follow his rules?” you asked slyly, and even Grogu giggled. “Come on. Take me around Nevarro little one. I wish to explore.”

It wasn’t like you gave Grogu a choice, but you learned that he was practically just as mischievous as you were, and Din was wrong to leave a child in command of you. He was wrong to leave anyone in command of you. You’d lived on Mandalore your whole life, not once ever leaving the planet. Now you were finally further into the outer-rim than ever before and Din just expected you to stay on the ship? Not a chance. You picked up the child and carried him outside and oh stars - it was beautiful. The golden sunlight radiated warmth and you overheard the happy sound of children excitedly chirping away. Din had parked the Crest dead centre in the middle of town, it seemed, with stalls and vendors on every corner, peppering the streets. You hummed in contentment, and sat down on the edge of the ramp with your bowl of broth and Grogu.

“Do you like this?” you asked, mixing the broth with the spoon Din had provided you. Grogu nodded his head happily and you laughed. “Does Din eat it?” Grogu nodded his head even more and his lips curled into a smile when he realised you were about to try the soup. If both Din and the child ate bone broth regularly, then it couldn’t be that bad…

And it wasn’t, not really. You could get used to the taste. The odorous smell was more off putting than anything else. So, without fuss, you ate the bubbling brown substance and discarded the finished bowl back inside the ship. You weren’t going to be gone too long, just long enough to meet the townsfolk and get a feeling off the planet. You hadn’t been this excited about anything in a long time.

-----

This was never part of the plan, but in the 24 hours of knowing Din Djarin, you had softened him considerably; more so than what the Mandalorian would like to admit. He didn’t plan on being gone long. But he still wanted, no, he needed, to get on your good side if he planned on asking you to marry him. The thought of winning you over through a façade of lies didn’t sit right with him. He never had a strong moral compass but he believed that you should at least marry for love. But then again, love was a foreign concept to him. He’d seen it before, in his parents, but that was just a distant memory. It felt like a lifetime ago, and if the Armorer told him to marry you, he had to do it.

It wasn’t a choice. It was his duty as a Mandalorian.

“I need a quick job.” Din announced, sliding into the booth opposite Karga.

“Mando! Good to see you. Kid not with you today?” Greef Karga, esteemed magistrate of Nevarro asked.

“He’s on the ship,” Din shrugged casually, knowing that the child’s safety - and yours - would be guaranteed as long as you just stayed put. “I need a quick job. Something simple and on Nevarro.”

Karga scrunched up his eyebrows in bewilderment. “Coming from the hunter who normally takes four pucks at a time, this is new,” he chuckled. “But I don’t have anything of the sort. What’s it for?”

Din hesitated, having no reason to be dishonest but yet not wanting to explain more than necessary. “Sourberries.”

This was a foolish plan, but if you wanted sourberries then Din would get you sourberries. He had this primal urge in him to appease you. To win you over.

Karga blinked before erupting into a fit of belly laughter. Din shuffled around in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

“Sourberries? Let me guess, is that code for something? I get it Mando. Us men have needs!” Karga laughed. “I do have one puck on Nevarro. Brand new. High paid. Imperial bounty," Karga hissed once his laughter settled down, but a smirk still played upon his lips. "You could buy a whole sourberry forest with the credits from this bounty.”

“You’re doing Imperial work, after everything we’ve been through?” Din frowned, shaking his head in disappointment. “Does Cara know?”

“It doesn’t matter. The Imps are the only ones who will pay Guild rates. Besides… I really didn’t have a choice. The guy who came to see me was an ex-ISB officer. Said he’s looking for a runaway princess. Figured the guy she ran away with is a settler on Nevarro. Told me he has a very distinct look but didn’t provide much more information.”

Din swallowed, his heart sinking in his chest. It couldn’t be, could it?

“What other information do you have?” Din countered. He had to know. He had to know so he could return back to the Crest and warn you. Maybe Nevarro wasn’t as safe as he’d predicted after all.

“Will you accept the bounty?” Karga asked. “Otherwise I can’t-”

“Listen, I need to know all that you know.” Din said sternly.

“Unless you’re willing to accept the puck, I can’t give you that information.”

Dank farrik. He couldn’t accept a bounty on you… he was your protector. What would he even tell you?

Once upon a time, he would’ve felt comfortable enough to explain his situation to Greef but if he was working with the Imperials again… maybe he wasn’t as trustworthy as Din once believed. He understood where Greef was coming from, to a degree. You were living during difficult times, but if he learned that you were the bounty and you were literally just a mile away, waiting on his ship, he’d have no choice but to notify this ex-ISB officer. If it meant Greef would earn his coin, Din wouldn’t put betrayal past him.

He needed the puck. He needed the puck because if he didn’t take it, another bounty hunter would. Of course Din wouldn’t let anyone even get near you, but if it was an Imperial bounty, he knew they’d just keep coming and coming. The Imperials didn’t give up easily. They didn’t give up with the child and they wouldn’t give up on you.

“I’ll take it.” Din announced after a moment of contemplation.

“Excellent!” Karga grinned, fishing out for the puck. “What I can tell you is this. She’s the princess of once of the very few Empire ruled planets. Could be Lothal, Naboo, Dathomir, maybe even Mandalore…” and then Karga began to describe your appearance. Everything from your eye colour, hair colour, skin tone… he had you to a T. This was not good.

“Do you know why she ran away?” Din asked, trying to swallow away any fear for your safety.

“I don’t ask questions like that,” Greef responded, shooting the Mandalorian a strange look. Din should have known better. “But they’re almost certain she’s on Nevarro so hopefully you won’t have to look far. I have no doubt a man of your talents will be able to bring her back to the Guild before nightfall, right?”

“Right…” Din replied, a little too quietly. “Dead or alive?”

“Alive only. No reward for a cold body,” Greef said strictly. “Good luck Mando,” Din was going to need more than just luck. He took the puck and stood up, Greef following from behind. “Hey, for your journey,” He smiled, handing the Mandalorian a bag of sourberries. “No charge. I’ve just… missed you.”

Din made a small noise of gratitude although it wasn’t received through the modulator, before taking the berries from his friend and leaving the cantina. It really was warm outside, so much so, wearing the beskar was even more uncomfortable than usual. He had to go see Cara, but suddenly, it was very unsafe for you to be on the ship if Imps were roaming the town looking for you. Thankfully, Nevarro had the perfect hiding spot for you; the covert. Only Din didn’t know how much the other children of the watch would take a liking to you… or you them. But neither of you had any other choice.

So when Din returned to the Crest, with sourberries and one hand and your bounty puck in another, he was mortified to see that neither you nor the child were there. His heart sank into his chest and his movements became erratic as he called your name and searched every crevice. Had they found you already? Had they taken the child? Oh no no no -

On impulse, Din fished into his armoury and grabbed more weapons, including explosives and detonators. He didn’t want this to get messy, but if the Imperials had taken both you and Grogu, there wasn’t a chance he’d go down without a fight. He’d have them begging for mercy. No one gets on the wrong side of Din Djarin.

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overwhore-s · 4 years ago

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A Freak in a Sheet (Ghost!Bakugou x Reader) part 2 NSFW

part 1

AO3

There are more advantages to living in a haunted house than just cheap rent.

Warnings: swearing, sex (gender-neutral reader)

It was a shit day if you’ve ever had one, and at the end of it, you just want to curl up on the couch and binge the fuck out of Keeping up with the Kardashians. Kicking off your shoes, you call out to Bakugou.

“You wanna see what Kim’s been up to?”

“Fuck yeah I do!” He answers from the living room. You grin. You are extremely lucky to live with someone who shares your passion for cheesy reality television.

When you walk into the room, he’s already waiting for you, TV remote in hand. “You look like shit,” he observes upon seeing you. You don’t take it personally though, knowing it’s his own unique way of encouraging you to open up about what’s been troubling you.

You stifle a yawn and plop down next to him. “Tough day. Customers were acting entitled as usual. And I forgot my wallet at home, so I didn’t have enough money for lunch. Or dinner.” Honestly, worse things have happened to you. It won’t be the first, nor the last day you went without eating.

Bakugou doesn’t see it that way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yells, jumping up from the couch, surprising you. “You can’t be skipping meals!”

“It’s okay dude, I can just order takeout or something,” you try to calm him down, but Bakugou is bit like a really spitty cat when he’s angry – the more you try to soothe him with words, the more aggressive he becomes.

“No pizza for you today. No fucking way. We’re gonna cook you a real ass dinner with real ingredients,” he huffs, already on his way to the kitchen. Confused, you trail after him.

The concentrated manner in which he gathers all his supplies tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He definitely has a presence in the kitchen, like some Michelin chef. And his chopping technique! You’ve never seen anyone chop onions that fast.

“Whoa,” you say, feeling kinda awkward just standing around and letting him do all the work, “you’re really good at this.”

His cheeks redden, his hand holding the knife slowing down momentarily. “So what If I am?!”

“Man, you really need to learn how to take a compliment,” you chuckle, “what are we making, by the way?”

“Fried rice. So make yourself useful and grab me a pan and a bag of rice, would you?”

“Roger.”

You work well together, you think. While he takes care of chopping and cutting the vegetables, you heat olive oil on medium heat, waiting for that tell-tale sizzle. You soon catch yourself humming some tune you heard on the radio at work, hips swaying as you stir the vegetables, rice and meat Bakugou put in the skillet. You giggle as he makes you surrender the frying pan so that he can toss the rice, and subsequently you marvel at how expertly he’s doing it. It’s been a while since you last cooked. You almost forgot how fun it is – even more so in good company.

“A shame we don’t have cashew nuts,” said companion murmurs, frowning at the contents of the pan after they’ve been tossed and fried and spiced to his liking. He looks at it almost longingly; you can’t help but notice. Ghosts can’t smell or taste anything. Bakugou told you he feels things, like pressure or texture to a certain level, but only if he concentrates.

“Ah, well, this is a low-budget kitchen,” you wave your hand in dismissal, eager to lighten up the mood. “Never mind though! It smells absolutely delicious!” And it looks absolutely gorgeous, but you don’t say that aloud, fearing his ego might explode.

“You should taste it before serving, just to be sure,” he suggests, already bringing a spoon to your lips. You hesitate for a second, suddenly hyperaware of all the sounds, smells and sights in the kitchen. The oil sizzling. The sweet smell of spices and fried onion. Bakugou, staring at you expectantly with an undecipherable expression on his stupidly attractive face as you part your lips and slowly, tentatively lick the spoon.

He shouldn’t have need for oxygen, but his breath hitches all the same.

“So, how is it?” He asks, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“Delicious,” you answer, but in truth, it’s not the food you’ve been paying attention to.

He positively glows in the kitchen lights. Like some otherworldly, ethereal being, and in a way, he is one. You look at him and have to fight the impulse to touch, hold, never let go.

“That’s all?” He questions further, with that adorable frown of his.

And his lips. They look soft. If you were to kiss him, right now, right there next to the stove under the lights and in your silly little apron, would he reciprocate it?

Stop it. You’re being disgusting. He’d probably, no, certainly think so, and push you away and never talk to you again.

“Why don’t you taste it as well?” You blurt out, realizing your error far too late. The spoon has already been pushed to his mouth, conveniently open as he was about to say something – most likely tell you to get fucked – and then he swallows and his eyes widen like he’s discovered something amazing.

“You…” You start to say, only to get immediately cut off by him.

“How in hell is this possible?!” He shouts, but not angrily, more like he can’t hide his excitement. “I…could taste it. The onions. The carrots. The…the fucking chili.” He brings the spoon to his mouth one more time and here it is again – that glint in his eyes. To the evident surprise of both you and him, he laughs, a rich, beautiful sound you’ll never get sick of.

Happy Bakugou is a foreign concept, but you like it very much.

“You kidding me?!” You exclaim. “That’s excellent news! Does that mean your sense of smell is back as well?”

He sniffs the air before grinning widely. “It wasn’t there just a few minutes ago, but now there’s no mistaking it. That’s some good fucking fried rice we made, all right.”

We made. You and Bakugou, together. And for some reason he can feel like a human now? You can only speculate why that happened, but maybe your grandma would know? She’s the one who introduced you to the world of the not-living, after all. You have to ask her, gosh, she’s going to be angry with you for not giving her a call in so long – but first, first you have to hug Bakugou.

And so you do. You squeeze him for all you are worth and he responds in kind, arms wrapping around your back to press you even further into his firm chest. As always, he’s slightly cold to the touch, but warms up quickly enough.

The hug lasts for ages, and as much as you wish to fall asleep like this, the food must be getting cold. You wonder if he can eat it with you – it’s not too much to hope for, is it?! – but when you attempt to wriggle free from the embrace, he grunts and presses you against him even tighter. And that’s when you notice, when you feel it, the unmistakable hardness poking you in the lower belly.

Oh. So that works too.

This is impossible, and flattering, and far too tempting to not comment on.

“All that just from a hug?” You tease, as if you yourself weren’t practically dripping just from him spoon-feeding you.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Well, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You kiss him like your life depends on it. He appreciates the intensity of it, judging by the groan escaping from low in his throat, the way his hands drop from your sides to knead at your ass. He slides his tongue into your mouth, rubbing it against yours. You’re only kissing and your head is spinning already.

He nibbles at your lower lip before releasing it and looking you straight in the eye. “You want more?” He asks, urgently.

Incapable of responding verbally, you only nod.

He gives your ass one last playful squeeze before lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, the fried rice all but forgotten as you dive in for another heated kiss. Bakugou, you find, is a very hands-on kind of lover. His calloused palms venture under your shirt, exploring your smooth flesh and curves with unhidden curiosity.

“So soft,” he informs you in between kisses, making you blush even more if that’s even possible, “and you smell nice.”

You disagree, seeing as you’re in a sore need of a shower after the long day you had, but you’re not about to argue with a man who has his tongue in your mouth.

He lifts the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head, chuckling when you get trapped, and gasping when you free yourself and grind against his still clothed cock in revenge.

It soon becomes painfully clear the kitchen won’t survive you fucking in it once you knock over the bottle of chili and it spills on the ground, creating an ominous red pool.

“Bed?” You say, breathlessly, and he agrees. “Bed.”

You stumble into the bedroom as in a drunken haze, and while you remember him undressing you on your way to the bed, him becoming suddenly naked was not your doing. Well, he is a ghost. You can’t exactly say you’re bothered by it, as it saved you significant time and trouble.

“Before we do this,” you whimper as he lavishes your neck and chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses, “I need t-to tell you…”

He slides further down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing what he’s about to do. “B-Bakugou…”

“You can tell me later. Just relax now,” he purrs, his hands spreading your legs further apart. You close your eyes and press the side of your face into your pillow.

The very first touch of his tongue to your overheated sex is enough to send your mind reeling. You whine, wanting more pressure, but he keeps you in place, keeps teasing you with short little licks and bites to your inner thighs. It’s infuriating. Every time he brings you close to the edge, he purposefully slows down, robbing you of your release. It’s hardly fair; he hasn’t so much as felt anything in years, you’ve only gone without sex for months, so how does he find himself with so much more patience than you?

“I think you’re ready for it now,” he notes, finally reappearing from between your legs.

“I have been forever now, thanks for noticing,” you roll your eyes.

He narrows his eyes at you. “If you don’t like it…”

“Never said I don’t! Shit…look…j-just do it already, okay?!” You bite your lip, looking at him pleadingly without actually saying please. You’ll save begging for later. Something’s telling you you’ll need it.

Bakugou’s expression is that of concentration as he aligns himself with your entrance. “Say if it hurts.”

It doesn’t. You thought it would be cold too, but he’s just as warm as a real man. He is a real man, you remind yourself. He certainly takes you like one, all hard thrusts and savage grunts as he chases his, and your release.

And God fucking damn it, he’s beautiful. Illuminated by moonlight, shining with sweat – yours? Do ghosts even sweat? – producing all those sounds that are pure music to your ears. You run your fingers through his spiky, soft blonde hair, scratch his scalp and have him reward you with a particularly deep thrust. It’s usually awkward with new lovers, not knowing what they prefer, having to learn it the hard way, but with Bakugou, you fuck like you were made for each other.

This round – because you know there will be more – looks like it’s going to be a short one. You’re too overstimulated from his earlier ministrations and Bakugou, well, he isn’t exactly pacing it out with how fast he slides in and out of you.

In the last few seconds, as need for release overdrives all his senses, he grabs onto your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave bruises, and buries himself into you for one last time before coming with a shudder. You’re close behind, burying your face into his shoulder while babbling incoherently. You don’t believe you ever came this hard. Your ears are ringing, heart beating fast like a hummingbird’s.

“What?” He asks, petting your hair comfortingly as you try to catch your breath. He sounds fine, if not a little dazed. His chest does not heave with uneven breaths, nor is he all red and sweaty in the face. And, the wetness sticking to your inner thighs is all your own.

“You wanted to say something, before,” he murmurs, as you begin to calm down, “so what was it?”

You meet his eyes with your own, finally. You must look like a mess, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Instead he stares at you like you’re the only thing on Earth he doesn’t hate, and the feeling’s mutual.

“I love you, you asshole,” you sob.

“I love you too idiot. So whatcha crying for?” He frowns, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. You lean into his touch, drawing a sharp breath before answering.

“I’m just so damn happy.” And you are. Really. You’ve spent years believing there wasn’t a person alive who could possibly love you in a way that you deserved, and turns out you were right.

You lie there for a while, limbs intertwined, dreaming up a wonderful future together, until you’re propelled to sit up by a terrible thought. “The food!”

“Shh. You can still microwave the shit.”

“But it won’t taste as good! I don’t wanna let your good food go to waste…”

“Hey.” He pulls you back into the bed just as you were going to leave it. “I can bring it to you. Get some rest, pipsqueak.”

Fried rice in bed?! The man wants to spoil you.

And you don’t mind in the least.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #if you are reading this i am sorry mom

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